Archive of Our Own

Five months. It had been five short months since Odysseus had returned home. Five months since he had mutilated a god. Five months since he had killed 108 pigs that had infested his palace. Five months of relearning his kingdom and his son. Of being reunited with his wife. Of knowing that one of his crew made it home. Polites had managed to survive without his knowledge and welcomed the broken man with open arms, even when he learned of everything he did. Odysseus had watched 599 families grieve for their lost loved ones, knowing that he chose his family over theirs. Penelope stayed by his side the entire time. She was the one who held him as he told her of Calypso’s island and sacrificing his men. Telemachus was eager to learn about the man who had become a legend to him.

There were things that he didn’t tell them though. He didn’t tell them of almost betraying Diomedes. Of the final battle, if it could be called that. They knew of the basic details. There wasn’t a person in all of Greece who didn’t. The only one that knew everything was Polites. He’d been there for most of it. He knew the sacrifices that had to be made in war, even though he preached peace. There was a reason Polites was his most trusted advisor. He knew Odysseus just as well as Penelope did. He’d been the one to keep Odysseus from falling apart in the ten years of hell called the Trojan War.

Now the family of four sat down for their evening meal. Telemachus animatedly recounted his training with Athena in between bites. Polites listened politely and occasionally interjected. Odysseus vaguely listened to the chatter, but his eyes were on his wife. Penelope pushed her food around her plate, only taking a couple bites while the rest of her food remained untouched. Odysseus placed his hand on top of hers. She looked up at him nervously.

“What’s wrong, love?” Odysseus asked lowly.

The other two went quiet to hear her answer. “I went to see Eurycleia today. She helped me confirm something.” Penelope said, setting her fork down.

“Is there something wrong Mom?” Telemachus asked, glancing between his parents.

“No, there’s nothing wrong. It’s just…” she paused for a moment. “I’m with child.” Penelope whispered the last part.

“I’m sorry darling, can you repeat that a little louder?” Odysseus leaned forward a little.

“I’m with child.” Penelope repeated louder. She looked between the three men.

“That’s great Mom! You always said you wanted another child. Now you can.” Telemachus said, rushing around the table to hug his mother.

“I’m happy for you Penny.” Polites patted her hand. He discreetly glanced over at Odysseus.

The king’s eyes widened in horror briefly before he schooled his expression into something that vaguely resembled joy. The look didn’t quite meet his eyes though. Polites looked over at Penelope, who hadn’t noticed the look on Odysseus’ face as she was busy talking to Telemachus. Polites nudged Odysseus with his foot. The king just shook his head and returned his attention to his wife. Penelope looked over at her husband.

“How far along are you?” he asked.

“About a month and a half. Two at most if Eurycleia was right.” Penelope asked. Odysseus nodded.

“That’s amazing love. The gods must have blessed you for this. I should give them a worthy sacrifice the next time I’m in the temples. I’m glad.” Odysseus smiled gently.

“Are you truly happy with it?” Penelope asked. She had seen how Odysseus' smile didn’t reach his eyes and how his eyes lacked the distinctive crinkles at the corners when he expressed true joy. He had also very rarely mentioned the gods in a favorable light since his return, even if he had the blessing of Poseidon now. So it was odd to hear him praising them. 

“I am. We have always wanted a large family and now it is growing. Thanks to you, that has come true.” Odysseus kissed her hand that he had been holding.

Penelope smiled. She knew there was something that Odysseus wasn’t saying, but she wouldn’t push it. Not now. Telemachus took up the empty chair next to her and began talking about all the things he could possibly do with his sibling when they got old enough. Polites simply placed the prince’s plate in front of him and returned his attention to Odysseus. The man was tense in a way that Polites hadn’t seen since Troy. His leg bounced beneath the table as he picked at his plate. Odysseus excused himself under the guise of having to review a new trade agreement. Telemachus watched his father slip out of the room.

“What’s wrong with Dad?” he asked.

“Nothing ‘Machus. He just wants to get the agreement reviewed before the meeting tomorrow. He’s had a lot on his plate since he came back. Your mother held down the fort as best she could, but there are things that she couldn’t even do. Well she could, but the old menaces that call themself advisors wouldn’t let her.” Polites replied, looking at the door.

He had hoped his friend was able to put the war behind him, but he wasn’t so sure now. A baby might be what finally breaks him. Polites knew he lived in constant guilt because of the young prince of Troy. He had tried to help him through it, but then they got separated. He was the only one who knew the nature of the prince’s death. Now the gods gave him a child, when he was just starting to heal.

— — — — —

Odysseus laid next to Penelope. She was sound asleep, but he remained awake. His hand rested on her hip. Not her stomach, not near the baby. He laid there staring out onto the balcony. He sighed softly. A child. He really was the gods’ favorite toy to play with. First he had been taken away from his son, then he was given the task of killing an infant who was innocent in every way. Now they deemed him worthy of another when he could barely trust himself. He pulled away from his wife. Penelope briefly stirred, but remained asleep. He placed a kiss on her forehead before grabbing his himation. The breeze was cool as he wandered down the halls of the palace. He found himself in the sparring area without thinking. What better way to distract his mind than training? It had always been one of the few things that calmed his mind. It didn’t require thinking.

He picked up a practice sword. He struck the training pell with brutal efficiency. Each strike cleared his head a little. Each thrust, slash, and parry brought him closer to peace. It was ironic. A man trying to find peace taking solace in violence. The world around him seemed to disappear until it was just him, the sword, and the pell. So much so that he didn’t hear the footsteps behind him. A voice broke him out of his trance.

“Ody?”

Odysseus whirled around, pointing his sword at the person. Polites held his hands up in surrender. Odysseus lowered his sword, jabbing it into the soft ground. Polites smiled sadly. It had been a while since he had seen Odysseus like this. The last time was right after Troy. Right after Astynax. Polites wrapped the shorter in his arms. Odysseus went slack, burying his face in Polites’ neck. Polites readjusted to support both their weight.

“Talk to me Ody.” Odysseus shook his head. “Do you just want me to hold you?” Odysseus nodded. “I can do that, but you can’t bottle this up. If you don’t talk to Penny then at least talk to me, but you can’t hide this forever.”

“Watch me.” Odysseus muttered, taking in Polites’ presence.

“Have you told Penelope about that yet?”

“No. I can’t burden her with what I did.” Odysseus answered.

“She’s your wife. You both agreed to bear hardships together when you took your vows. I remember that very well.” Polites pointed out.

“The vows weren’t written with monstrous acts in mind. There’s nothing written that would force her to take on the misdeeds of her husband, just like a child shouldn’t suffer for the sins of a father.”

Polites huffed lightly, but didn’t say a word. He continued to hold Odysseus. Ever since they were kids, Polites had always been more in tune with his emotions than Odysseus or Eurylochus. Eurylochus mostly responded with an indifferent attitude, but Odysseus always acted like nothing could touch him. Not that he was above emotions, but that they were a nuisance unless they suited his cause. The harsh words he received were turned into silver arrows when he could turn them on their speaker. If they were of no use to him, then they were met with the calm, witty man. Polites had enough for both of them, but sometimes Odysseus forgot that he was human too.

“You need to get some sleep, Ody. You have a meeting with the merchants about the trade agreement tomorrow and you need to get the stuff prepared for Diomedes’ visit next month.” Polites whispered, leaning his head on top of Odysseus’.

“Jus’ a little longer.” Odysseus whined.

“Alright. Just a little longer.” Polites pressed a kiss to Odysseus’ hair.

Polites just held him until Odysseus was ready to go inside. Polites kept a careful grip on Odysseus’ hand, keeping him grounded. The two men had found themselves in the same position many times before. Polites was often one of the few things that could bring his mind back to the present, along with Penelope and Telemachus. Polites dropped Odysseus off at his room, making sure his friend made it inside. 

Penelope hadn’t moved much since he’d left. Now she was facing the door, but she had grabbed his pillow, holding it to her chest. Her hair covered her face. Odysseus brushed it out of the way before he sat down. He could watch over her until Apollo’s chariot lit the sky once again. Sleep would have to wait. His racing mind wouldn’t allow dreams to come easily. He worried for Penelope and for his son. Penelope had a relatively easy pregnancy with Telemachus, but they were both older now. And Telemachus, he had the makings of a good brother, but he had been an only child for so long and there would be such a large gap between him and his sibling. Maybe he was just worrying for nothing, but he learned a long time ago that nothing was always something.

— — — — — 

Penelope woke up to an empty bed. She reached across to where Odysseus usually laid. The spot had long since gone cold. The sun was still low in the sky so she knew it was not a case of oversleeping. He had done this many times since he had returned. Nightmares plagued his sleep and when he did sleep, it was fitful. This time, however, she suspected something else was bothering him. He had been skittish the night before, cautious in a way that she had never seen. A quiet knock broke through the morning quiet. Penelope pulled her robe around her.

“Enter.” she called softly.

The door opened softly. Telemachus stood in the doorway. Penelope waved him in, patting the bed beside her. He climbed up and sat next to her like he had done many times before. Penelope ran her fingers through his hair, untangling knots leftover from the night’s rest. Telemachus looked up at her with a mix of concern and confusion.

“Was it just me or was Dad acting strange last night?” the prince asked. Penelope sighed softly.

“Your father has a lot going on. I don’t think he was expecting me to become pregnant so soon after his return. He’s still trying to relearn the kingdom after so long away.” she said.

“I get that but… he said he was happy. He said that, but his eyes didn’t match his words. Like he said one thing and meant another. Did he not want another kid?”

“Your father always wanted a large family. I don’t think that’s changed. Just give him a couple days and I’m sure that it will change.” The words felt like a lie as soon as she spoke. She had never seen Odysseus like this before. A second knock came soon after. “Who is it?”

“Polites, my lady. I come bearing breakfast.” the person answered.

“Come in.”

Polites came in with a tray in his hands. It was laden with grapes and porridge along with a simple jam with bread. “I deliver this on behalf of Ody. He’s tied up with paperwork at the moment, so he asked me to bring this to you.” He set the tray across Penelope’s lap.

“Paperwork this early in the morning. It cannot be that late already.” Penelope said.

“It’s still early. He couldn’t sleep so he’s working on the official things regarding Diomedes’ visit. He’s only been at it for about an hour.” Polites answered.

“Did he sleep last night?” she asked.

“I don’t know. He was up late training to clear his mind. I brought him back here. Whether he slept or not is something you’d have to ask him.”

Penelope just nodded, popping a grape into her mouth. Before he left, Odysseus would never do paperwork willingly and would do anything to avoid it. Now he seeks it out instead of speaking his mind. Hiding behind Odysseus the king and ignoring Odysseus the man. 

“Something was bothering him last night.” Penelope said. It wasn’t a question, but a definite.

“There was.” Polites acknowledged.

“Why wouldn’t he tell us?” Telemachus asked.

“Your father is a stubborn man. He insists on bearing the weight of his actions alone.” Penelope nodded as Polites spoke.

“Well, do you know what’s wrong?” Telemachus leaned forward, closer to Polites.

“I do.” Polites said. At that moment, the young prince looked so much like Odysseus when he was younger, particularly when he thought someone was lying to him.

“Then you tell us if Dad won’t.” 

Polites sighed. “That isn’t for me to tell. Odysseus will tell you when he is ready, if he ever does. His life after he left wasn’t the glorious one you heard of in stories. He was just a man fighting for his life, fighting to get back home. War isn’t some grand event where everyone is a hero. People have to do terrible things to survive. Your father was no exception. The twenty years that he spent away were…”

“I understand.” Telemachus said.

“Have faith. He’ll snap out of it. He always does.” Polites looked at Penelope as he spoke. He tried to sound reassuring but it was hard when he wasn’t sure himself.

********************************************************************

9 weeks:

The sun shone red over the sea as Odysseus and Penelope walked side by side along the cliffs in Ithaca. It was a common sight for the king and queen, but this time Odysseus was carrying a bundle in his arms. The baby had Penelope’s dark hair, but Odysseus’ grey eyes. It was a precious sight. One that made Odysseus’ heart ache. This child was his flesh and blood. How could he have doubted his love for the child?

Lightning flashed across the cloudless sky. “The child will be your undoing, King of Ithaca.” a deep voice rumbled, only heard by Odysseus. 

“What?” he breathed, holding the child tighter.

“You know what you have to do. If the child lives, your house will be bathed in blood. The blood of your wife, of your son, of everyone you hold dear. You will watch them die, knowing you could have stopped them. Do not defy the gods Odysseus of Ithaca. You know what will happen if you do.” Odysseus stopped in his tracks.

Penelope, she was in danger from his child. The infant he held in his hands. He looked at the child in his arms. They looked so innocent, it was hard to believe that a child could grow into what the king of the gods was describing. But he couldn’t allow any harm to come to Penelope or Telemachus. He didn’t face twenty years of death and destruction to let them die when he could save them. Penelope turned to her husband, sensing that he was no longer beside her.

Odysseus stared at the infant in his arms with the same eyes he used to analyze enemies with. The same cold, calculating gaze he had worn often since he had been home. Since he had become a “monster” in his own eyes and the eyes of his enemies. She watched as he took a step closer to the cliff.

“I can’t let them die.” he whispered, just loud enough for Penelope to hear.

“You can’t let who die, Ody?” she asked, moving half a step closer. He looked up at her. His eyes were hard.

“I can’t let you die. I have to do it.”

“I’m right here Ody. I’m not going anywhere.” she promised.

“Not yet. I’m so sorry Penelope.”

Penelope watched helplessly as Odysseus grabbed the baby’s blanket with one hand, dangling over the cliff. She rushed forward, attempting to grab Odysseus’ arm, but he shook her off. Before she could react, he let go. She screamed as she watched her baby plummet into the sea below. Odysseus just held her as she sobbed.

“You have chosen well, King of Ithaca. Twice you have changed the fate of your family.” A single tear slipped from Odysseus’ eye.

— — — — —

Odysseus had pulled away even more as Penelope’s pregnancy progressed. She watched as he took on more of her royal duties, including greeting audiences that she would usually be the one to host. When he found the time to just breathe, she often found him carving wooden figures. It had been a popular past-time for him before the war had taken him. According to Polites, he had continued the hobby in Troy, often leaving the figures for those that he deemed in need of one. Now Penelope woke up every few days to a new carving in Odysseus’ spot on their bed in place of the man. A basket of wood shavings had taken up residence beside their bed. She suspected that it was so he could remain close while she slept, even if he was awake.

Odysseus had been sleeping less since she announced her pregnancy. It was rare for him to sleep more than two or three hours at a time. When he did manage to sleep, nightmares often woke him. Like now, Penelope laid beside him quietly, watching as the moon hit his face. His brow was furrowed and he tossed restlessly. Every once in a while, he would mutter something that she couldn’t quite hear. Without warning he shot upright, breathing heavily. Penelope sat up, reaching out.

“Odysseus, breathe.” Penelope said, grabbing his hand.

Odysseus sucked in a few sharp breaths before pulling away. “Sorry for waking you my love. You should try to get some sleep. You need it for the baby.”

“And what about you?” she asked.

“What do you mean?” He looked at her and noted the worry in her eyes. “Don’t worry about me. I’m fine. It was just a nightmare.”

“But—”

“I’m just gonna go for a walk. I’ll be right back. Rest. Tomorrow, we greet Diomedes.” 

Odysseus laid her down, pulling the blanket back up over her. He pressed a kiss to her lips. She watched as he grabbed his himation and disappeared through the door. She let out a small sigh as she continued to watch the door. The odds of him rejoining her were almost none now that he was awake. Penelope wasn’t sure how much longer he intended to avoid the elephant in the room.

— — — — —

Odysseus wandered through the halls of the palace. No one was awake at this hour, as it should be. The night was quiet. Almost too quiet. The wind blowing through the trees was the only sound; no birds, no insects, nothing. He came to a stop in the courtyard. Telemachus’ lyre was tucked under the bench, like he had set it down and then forgotten it. He shook his head. Sometimes his son reminded him so much of himself that it hurt. As he bent down to grab the instrument, a branch cracked behind him. His hand went to the dagger that he always carried with him. He spun around, only to see Athena behind him. He tucked the dagger away and began to walk away. 

They hadn’t talked much since he returned beyond that quick conversation when Telemachus went to ready Penelope. She had looked at him with such pity in her eyes. The scar that decorated her face told him of the battle she had fought. He knew she was the one that fought for him. He’d thanked her and then went on his way.  No longer was he her warrior of the mind. He was just Odysseus, the man who had fought gods and monsters to return home.

“Odysseus wait.” she called. The man stopped. “I just want to talk.”

“I'm afraid we have nothing to talk about goddess.” Odysseus said, still not looking at her.

“You're scaring your son. He thinks that you will abandon them.” Athena’s words echoed harshly in his ears. He turned to face her.

“I would never abandon my family. I went through hell to get back to them. It would take more than death for me to leave them.” He hissed. Athena gave him a disapproving look.

“Your family needs you. You are letting yourself become a ghost in your own halls. You need to learn to live again, not just survive. Otherwise you will hurt those you claim to love.” With that she disappeared, leaving no trace of her presence.

“You wouldn't understand. Human lives are simply a game to you. When you experience humanity, then you will understand. Your guilt is momentary. Your actions don't haunt your every waking hour and your dreams.” Odysseus said into the air. He received no answer but continued anyway. “You wanted a world where empathy lives, yet you still show me none. I let you guide my son without protest, but you haven’t changed.”

Odysseus scoffed. What was the point of talking to someone who wouldn’t listen? The gods did what they wanted and as long as they left him alone, then he didn’t care anymore. He made a mental note to talk to his son after breakfast in the morning. Odysseus continued to walk through the palace. He stopped briefly to check on Penelope, who had fallen back asleep. Closing the door, he felt the need to check on Telemachus. He found him sprawled out across his bed, snoring lightly. Shaking his head, Odysseus retreated to his office. He had found solace in the room since he had come home. No threats, just parchment and ink. 

Odysseus grabbed a half-carved figure and his knife off the desk, before moving to the window. This time it was a horse. The general shape had been carved, but it was rough. Working by the moonlight, he carved out more of a solid shape. He hoped to make a full set of creatures by the time the baby was born. With the lack of restful sleep, it was becoming a very real possibility.

The smell of the ocean filled room as Poseidon made his presence known. He bore a teal chiton with gold fastenings. The arm of water was gone, replaced by a normal one. He looked surprisingly human, if you ignored the golden scars decorating his chest and his sheer size. His trident was notably absent as it had been every time he'd appeared to Odysseus since their fight. Though in all fairness, Odysseus had stabbed him before and there was every chance he'd do it again if he annoyed the human too much.

“Two in one night.” Odysseus muttered.

“Tell me, little monster. Why is it that when something is wrong with you, someone always blames me?” the Lord of the Seas asked.

Odysseus didn't even look up from his carving. “Hello to you too. Who blamed you for what this time?” 

“My dearest niece seems to believe that I'm the reason for your mood change recently. You know as well as I do that I had nothing to do with it.” Poseidon answered.

“Athena has no business worrying about me. I'm no longer her student.” Odysseus said, looking up briefly.

“While that may be true, she still cares about you. You still carry her blessing. It's natural for her to worry about you. Besides that, I can even see that something is wrong with you, along with everyone else.” 

“Since when have you cared what she thought?” Odysseus asked, pointedly ignoring the second part.

“Don't change the subject Monster. What is bothering you so much that it is so noticeable?”

“I may have made it home but the things I did came with me as well. Don't concern yourself over a mere mortal, oh great Lord of the Seas.”

“Keep your secrets then, but don't let them consume you. You are no mere mortal, Odysseus of Ithaca, because no mere mortal can wound a god and walk away alive. Let alone be able to hold a civil conversation with them afterwards. You interest many of the Olympians. Keep that in mind” 

“So you say, but I would rather be a mere mortal if it meant that I could live in peace.” Odysseus snarked, digging his knife in a little deeper than he meant to.

Poseidon walked closer to look over his shoulder. “A horse huh? I thought your son was grown.”

“He is.” Odysseus murmured, staring at the carving. “It’s not for him.”

“Then who’s it for? Surely you do something with the carvings you make. I remember seeing some in the water after I sunk your fleet.” Poseidon said, plucking the figure out of Odysseus’ hands.

“I used to give them to my crew or some of the soldiers that were feeling homesick. It was just something small, but it reminded them of the little things. Their children, their siblings, home. Carving, it calmed my mind. And it produced something useful so it was a bonus.” Odysseus snatched the half-finished horse back.

“Get some sleep. You look exhausted.” With that Poseidon disappeared in a swirl of mist.

Odysseus set the carving aside and stared out the window. Dawn would come early and he needed rest, but he couldn’t bring himself to sleep. Not when all he heard were the screams of the dead and the death of his children. Someday he would tell Penelope and Telemachus everything he’d done, but only when he knew they would remain safe. 

********************************************************************

11 weeks:

Odysseus stood in the nursery. He had to kill the prince. To save his family, he had to kill an infant. He hummed softly to the child in his arms. Why couldn’t he raise the child as his own? He shouldn’t have to pay for his father’s sins. No child should. Tears fell from his eyes. The child reminded him so much of his own son, who would be approaching his first decade. Odysseus walked over to the balcony that looked out over a courtyard. The courtyard was untouched by the battle that raged on the other side of the palace. 

Absent-mindedly, he ran a hand down the prince’s cheek. The baby cooed softly. Odysseus smiled. He’d missed this, being able to hold a child. For a moment he could pretend he was back in Ithaca, holding Telemachus. Pretend that the war had never come and that he was home with his family. But pretending did him no good. Not when Zeus’ warning echoed in his head. Kill the child or forsake his family. The choice should be easy, but he was loath to end a life that had just begun.

Odysseus looked down, before gasping in shock. Staring back at him was not the Trojan prince. The child had honeyed hair and soft brown eyes that reminded him of his wife. The child was a perfect mix of him and Penelope. The infant grabbed his finger, hand barely being able to fit around the digit. Odysseus took a step back from the railing.

“If you don’t end him now you'll have no one left to save.” Zeus’ voice cut through the air.

“I can’t kill my child.” Odysseus protested.

“Then forsake your family and wear their blood.” Zeus said.

Odysseus held his breath. He couldn’t defy the king of the gods. He had to save Penelope. He hadn’t spent ten years away from home for her life to be cut short. Closing his eyes, he held the child over the open air. He let go before he lost the will. Before he could change his mind. He let out the breath he had been holding. He whispered a quiet prayer to the gods, for the child’s sake and asking for forgiveness.

“Ody?” Odysseus turned. Polites stood in the doorway. “It’s time to go. The Trojans have surrendered.”

“How much did you see?” he asked.

“I saw everything. You did what you had to keep your family safe.” his friend replied.

Odysseus’ shoulders slumped. “Yeah. Safe.” He turned back out towards the balcony. “I’m so sorry.” he whispered to the soul below.

— — — — —

Odysseus woke up with a gasp before remembering where he was. His breathing was ragged. He was in his office, where he’d been doing some paperwork. He rushed out of the room. In his hurry, he ran into Polites. Polites caught him before giving him a concerned look. Odysseus brushed past him. His friend simply followed him. Odysseus made his way to his room. He threw open the door, startling both Penelope and Telemachus. The former had been weaving, while the latter chatted about the new baby. At his feet sat the basket of carvings. Both looked over at Odysseus with worry.

“Odysseus, what's the matter?” Penelope asked. 

Odysseus stayed silent. Polites was alive. Telemachus was safe. Penelope was safe. The baby was still safe in Penelope’s womb. He took a deep breath to calm his nerves. Polites guided him into the room, depositing him in the bed. With telegraphed movements, Polites knelt in front of him, exaggerating his breathing. Odysseus stared at him until his breathing began to slow.

“What’s the matter?” Polites repeated.

“Had to see they were safe. Alive.”

“We’re alive, Odysseus. We’re all safe. All five of us.” Penelope said, resting a hand on her barely noticeable stomach. “What caused you to worry?”

Odysseus looked away, shaking his head. “Come on Ody. Please. We can’t help you if you won’t tell us what’s wrong.” Polites pleaded.

“Dream.” Odysseus muttered.

“You had a dream that worried you, so you wanted to check on everybody to make sure we were okay.” Telemachus shrugged. “Seems reasonable to me.”

“It was weak. I can’t be weak. I have to be strong.” Odysseus pushed himself up off the bed. “I have to go.”

Telemachus reached for him. “Dad, wait. You don’t need to be strong all the time. You taught me that.”

Odysseus looked at him. He ruffled his son’s hair gently. “Look at you using my own lessons against me. Good. But I have a few things to finish. I’ll see you at dinner.”

Odysseus walked out of the room. Polites let his forehead hit the bed. Penelope and Telemachus just stared after Odysseus. No one spoke for a moment, just giving each other time to breathe. Polites looked at the basket of carvings.

“He hasn’t done that much since the war. Not that many.” He grabbed one off the top. A majestic lion mid-roar on a rock. “How often has he been doing this?”

“There’s a new one every two to four days. Usually left on the bed.” Penelope answered, moving to sit on the bed.

“When does he find time to do all these?” Telemachus asked.

“When everyone else is sleeping. He used to do it in Troy. He had a whole chest of them. Ody started giving them to homesick soldiers or whoever he thought needed a boost in morale. If you got one, you knew Ody was looking out for you. He learned to carve when he was a kid. He told me it was therapeutic.”

“He carved some for you when you were a baby. That’s where your wooden wolf came from. But if he does it when everyone is sleeping, then that means he isn’t.” Penelope said, holding Telemachus’ hand.

“He told me he’s been having trouble sleeping. Worse than when he first came home.” Penelope grimaced. They all remembered when Odysseus couldn’t sleep for more than an hour at a time or when he did, his sleep was plagued by nightmares. “I’m starting to get worried. He’s gonna crash before long and it’s not going to be good when he does.”

“He’s always gone before I wake in the morning and he is always restless. I worry for his health.”

“He has been more tired lately.” Telemachus agreed.

“What should we do?” Penelope asked.

“Let’s give it a little while longer. Just another week to see if he comes to us first. If we pressure him…” Polites trailed off.

“He’s going to close off.” Penelope finished. Polites nodded.

“Unfortunately, yes. When we do talk to him, or I should say when you talk to him, you shouldn’t corner him. Just start slow.” 

“You mean we. You are part of this family as well. Do not think otherwise. We face this as a family.” Penelope said. 

“Should we ask Athena? She might help.” Telemachus looked between the two.

“No!” Polites exclaimed. He cleared his throat. “I mean, we probably shouldn’t. Odysseus still doesn’t quite trust her. No disrespect to the goddess, but she abandoned him when he needed her the most. The only reason she realized her mistake was because of you. Odysseus might have forgiven her, but that doesn’t mean that he would go to her with a problem.”

Telemachus nodded. Penelope just looked resigned. I wish he would let us in, she thought. She picked up some of the carvings, setting them in her lap. She ran her hands over a rabbit. It was the most recent one. Its eyes were stained with charcoal. The basket had to contain almost thirty of the carvings. Some Odysseus had done since he’d come home, but most had been in the weeks since he’d found out about Penelope’s pregnancy. It made her wonder what had happened to drive her husband away. Surely it couldn’t be the pregnancy, could it?

— — — — —

“When are you going to tell them?” a voice asked. Odysseus jumped and spun around. Poseidon leaned against the wall of the courtyard. “They’re worried, you know.”

“Do you have nothing better to do than to come find me?” Odysseus asked, crossing his arms.

“At the moment no. Besides, you didn’t listen to me.” Poseidon pushed off the wall. He stalked closer to Odysseus. The king was forced to look up to see the god’s eyes.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about. You’re the one who came to find me.” 

“I told you your secrets would destroy you and they are. You look like you haven’t slept in weeks. You looked better after being awake for nine days straight. You’re going to kill yourself if you keep going.” Poseidon leaned down so his face was even with Odysseus’. “One week. Or I’ll tell them myself. You will not like it if I do. Do not test me, little monster.”

“I can’t be trusted. You should know that better than anyone.” Odysseus spat. “You saw me sacrifice my own crew to get home. I used them like pawns in a game. I killed a defenseless child purely because Zeus told me too. I’ve made deals that I have no intention of following through on. So why should they trust me if they find out?”

“You may have done that, yes, but a majority of that was forced by the gods. Zeus gave you an ultimatum. He delivered a prophecy that left you no real choice. You lived to survive for years. Most people would have given up after the first year. Let them support you. I may call you monster, but even they have their support. You don’t decide if they trust you. They do.” Poseidon set a heavy hand on Odysseus’ shoulder.

“And if they are appalled?” the mortal asked.

“Then they don’t deserve you. But I doubt that they will react how you think, little king.” 

“What if you’re wrong?” For once Odysseus didn’t sound confident or strong. He sounded afraid.

“I gave you a blessing, though you don’t like to admit it. Neither do I for that matter. But that means I won’t abandon you. Even if you weren’t a king.” Poseidon soothed.

“That’s what Athena said too but look how that ended.”

“I keep my promises. You should know that. You saw me wait ten years just to get to you, like I promised I would. I don’t take promises lightly.” Poseidon pinned him with a hard look.

“There are loop holes in every promise and deal. I should know. It’s my specialty.”

“Let me make this one thing clear. I protect what is mine and whether you like it or not, you became mine the day you received my blessing.”

Odysseus nodded. He stared out at the distant waters. “Okay. I’ll try, but if you abandon me, I’ll find out how to end immortality.”

Poseidon chuckled. “I wouldn’t expect anything less, little monster.”

********************************************************************

12 weeks:

The one week deadline that Poseidon had caught up to Odysseus faster than thought. He had spent most of it avoiding the topic and trying to soothe his family’s fears. Unbeknownst  to him, others had set the same deadline. Odysseus stood in the main hall, staring out the window. He had been doing that a lot lately, just watching. Watching as Telemachus grew into a fine man. Watching as Penelope took to pregnancy with the same grace as being queen. Watching as his unborn child grew and became closer to meeting the world, as unfair as the world was. The sun shone softly through the window. Odysseus basked in the light as his mind ran rampant. The doors behind him slammed open. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Poseidon enter in all his godly glory. His black hair flowed like water behind him, a crown of sea rock nestled in it. His blue eyes glowed like torches. He wore his usual blue chiton.

“Time’s up little king.” he sing-songed as he came up behind the king.

Odysseus turned to face him, eyebrow raised. “I don’t remember asking for a reminder.”

“I know you haven’t told them. Let’s go. You’re not putting this off any longer. Where are they?” Poseidon asked, pinning Odysseus with a glare.

“How would you know? You just want to see me break.” Odysseus shot back.

“We’re past that Odysseus. As smart as you may be, you’re not smarter than a god. Now you go with me willingly or I will throw you over my shoulder and take you there myself. Now walk.” Poseidon crossed his arms. Odysseus led him out of the hall, knowing that Penelope and Telemachus would be in the garden enjoying the sun. He walked for a couple paces before suddenly veering off, hoping to escape. He didn’t get anywhere before Poseidon’s hand shot out. The god’s hand latched around the back of his neck. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“Leaving.” Odysseus said hopefully. 

“I don’t think so. Walk and take me to them or so help me, I am not above kicking your ass.”

Odysseus had the decency to look scolded. Even when he started walking, the god’s hand never left the back of his neck. Poseidon’s grip left no room for possible escape. Not tight enough to bruise, but tight enough that the king couldn’t escape. About halfway to the gardens, the pair found Polites wandering the hall, seemingly looking for something. Seeing the king and god together, Polites followed them down the hall. Odysseus remained silent, even when they reached the gardens. Penelope was sitting in the shade beneath a flowering Manna Ash, reading a scroll. Telemachus leaned into her side, writing something with the parchment resting against his knee. The pair looked up as the other three approached. 

“Sit.” Poseidon ordered, still not releasing the king. “I believe you have something you want to tell them.”

“I never said I wanted to tell them. You are forcing me. Now let go.” Odysseus snapped.

“If I let you go, you are not to run and you will tell them. Do you understand?” Odysseus nodded, looking resigned. Poseidon slowly let go, waiting for Odysseus to run. When he didn’t, he relaxed.

Penelope grabbed his hand. “Ody, whatever you have to tell us, we won’t judge you.”

Odysseus scoffed, looking at the tree above them. “Yeah sure. That’ll change quick.”

“Odysseus Laertides, I swore to love you no matter what. I forgave you for everything you told me. Do not dismiss that so easily!”

“I killed someone!” Odysseus blurted. Polites gripped his shoulder lightly in a show of support.

“People die all the time in war.” Telemachus pointed out. Odysseus looked down at his lap.

“I killed a child,” he whispered. Polites winced. “He died because of me.”

“Maybe you should start from the beginning.” Poseidon said quietly. Odysseus nodded once, tears coming to his eyes.

“After we laid siege to Troy, I went to check the palace. Zeus showed me a vision and gave me a prophecy. ‘A vision of what is to come cannot be outrun, can only be dealt with right here and now. A mission to kill someone’s son, a foe who won’t run, unlike anyone you have faced before. This is the son of Troy’s very own Prince Hector, know that he will grow from a boy to an avenger. One fuelled by rage as you’re consumed by age. If you don’t end him now, you’ll have no one left to save. This is the will of the gods. The blood on your hand is something you won’t lose. All you can choose is whose.’ He was only a baby. The same age as Telemachus when I left and I killed him. He trusted me… and I let him fall.” Quiet sobs shook Odysseus’ body. Telemachus and Penelope just watched him sadly. Polites just held him tighter.

“Was it quick at least?” Telemachus asked.

Polites nodded. “As soon as he hit the ground. He died on impact. I saw it all. Odysseus tried to bargain for the prince’s life, even offering to raise him. Zeus wouldn’t have it.”

“You knew,” Penelope said. There was no question about it. “You knew that’s why he was pulling away.” It wasn’t quite an accusation, but it was close.

“If I may, Queen Penelope.” Poseidon interrupted. She turned to him. “My brother gives no room when he wants something. Odysseus did what he had to for you to survive. He is afraid for his child. That if he gets too close, then the child will die.”

Odysseus hated how well the god knew him. Even Athena, who had known him since he was a kid, hadn't noticed. Just remembering the small prince broke his heart. He curled in on himself. He felt Polites gently pull him into his side. He felt a second set of smaller arms wrap around him. Telemachus curled around him, shielding him from the world with Polites.

“You did what you could. You didn’t want to kill him. You made it home safely. We’re safe because of you. It’s okay to be upset about it, but if you let it consume you then you’ll miss everything else.” Telemachus said lowly, just loud enough for Odysseus to hear. 

Odysseus chuckled wetly. “When did you become so wise?”

“I learned from the best.” 

“Yeah. I guess Athena is pretty wise.” Odysseus replied, keeping his head buried in his knees.

“She is, but I wasn’t talking about her. I was talking about you,” Odysseus froze. “You taught me that standing strong doesn’t mean hiding everything. It means being able to lean on people and continuing on despite the challenges. Lean on us now.”

Odysseus looked up. Telemachus smiled tenderly. Odysseus pulled away from Polites slightly, returning his son’s embrace. Tears still fell from his eyes, but they weren’t the heavy sobs from before. Now it was something lighter. He felt lighter, like the weight of the world had been lifted from his shoulders. He looked at Penelope over his son’s shoulder. She just squeezed his hand. There was no judgement on her face, only sorrow and love. 

“I’m sorry,” Odysseus murmured. “I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t apologize Ody. You did what you thought was right.” Polites told him from beside the pair.

“He’s right.” Poseidon agreed. Odysseus had forgotten he was even there.

“Odysseus, I would never leave you over this. You had no choice. Just like the rest of your journey. You did what you had to in order to keep yourself and us alive. Never be ashamed of that. You have paid your debts to the gods.” She put the hand she was holding on her stomach. “This child is here because you were able to make it home to us. I don’t care what you had to do to get here. All that matters is that we are together.”

“I’ll try. I can’t promise anything, but I’ll try.” Odysseus promised, a fresh wave of tears coming as his hand rested on Penelope’s stomach.

“That’s all we ask Ody. Nothing more.” Polites rubbed his back, careful of Telemachus’ hands.

“I’ll be on my way. I got what I came for.” Poseidon said, rising from the ground.

“Thank you.” Odysseus looked up at the god.

“Don’t thank me little monster. You did the hard part. I just gave you a nudge in the right direction.”

Polites snorted. Poseidon disappeared in his usual wave of mist, leaving behind the smell of the ocean. Odysseus stayed still, not wanting to disturb the peace. Eventually, Telemachus pulled away but didn’t move far. His knee still rested against his father’s. Polites stayed close as a silent support. Penelope traced the scars on his hands and arms. Odysseus let out a small yawn.

“Sleep Odysseus. You need it. We’ll be here when you wake up.” Penelope told him. Odysseus hummed and laid down on the ground. It didn’t take him long to fall asleep surrounded by his family. And for the first time in a while, he didn’t dream.