Achilles allowed a smile at Patroclus' words. Let them be grateful that it was not war. After everything, Achilles had to agree with that, but he could remember the time when war - or the motions leading up to the war - brought him excitement. There had been a part of him that knew this was what he was meant to do. But now, here, he was meant only to be with Patroclus. He tipped his head closer, pressed his lips to the side of his lover's temple.
The look he gave Patroclus about those ridiculous notions was one part guilty, one part amused. How well his beloved knew him. "Would it be so ridiculous? You fell in love with Achilles, not with a man who could lose." He was linked to this pride, this ability in battle, so inextricably. If he was not the best warrior then was he still Achilles?