Page 8 of Elysium
“You have done more than should have ever been expected of you.” Was the reply he managed to force out. How could he put into words that he was learning how to be a father again? That he knew he could never recreate the years lost, and that he would do anything to have that time back.
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Odysseus smiled down at his wife as she dozed in the noon sun. She had fallen asleep on the chaise, cuddling their son to her chest. Pride echoed in his heart. His entire world sat in front of him, illuminated by the rays that spilled in through the window.
Their whole lives lay ahead of them, the king, queen, and prince of Ithaca. Gently, without waking his sleeping wife, Odysseus picked up his son, walking onto the balcony with him. Telemachus squirmed in his arms, eyes squinting in the light. “What do you think, little prince?” He asked, beaming down at his son. The smell of the sea surrounded them, the waves crashing against the shore.
Odysseus looked out to the horizon, watching as the ships came in. He knew what they were here for, knew they were here to make good on the pact that he had come up with. Menelaus was gathering his armies to fight for his wife back.
His heart tightened. There was a time in the past when he yearned for adventures and journeys, the lust that followed glory, pulling him into every conflict and battle. But now… All Odysseus wanted was right here. He would do anything to hide them away from the duties of war and the risk of bloodshed. And yet, duty spared no man.
How could he refuse Menelaus?
And now, standing here in the bright sunlight, watching the life he had dreamed of take place in front of him, he wanted nothing more than peace.
Menelaus wanted the fame and the honor of being married to Helen, and couldn’t stand that he had been jilted by a woman and a Trojan prince.
All Odysseus wanted was right here…
7
IN ANOTHER LIFE, PERHAPS, Penelope would be a wife that threw parties and celebrations for each small occasion. In that life, she suspected, she wasn’t nearly as happy as she had been with Odysseus all those years ago.
The people of Ithaca had been more than willing and excited to host a celebration for the return of their king, of the reunification of Ithaca. He had been a hero even before stepping back onto their soil.
Men and women both had been singing tales of Odysseus the Brave, weaving tales of the feats of the cunning warrior and his ability to outwit even the smartest of gods and armies.
And now that man was home, and they had reason to sing once more.
The music surrounding them thrummed over her skin, the warm evening air settling over the courtyard like a gentle, familiar blanket.
Penelope was never one for a revel, preferring the quiet of night and the captivation of a good conversation. But what kind of wife and queen would she be to avoid the party being held for Odysseus?
And he deserved a festival, deserved the praise and adoration that he had received since returning home. Not just for being the hero of the Trojan War, but for saving his people for the continuous onslaught and destruction that the suitors brought to his walls.
She needed him like water, ached for the woman she used to be by his side. He had been the strength to her weakness, the breath in her lungs. And yet… she felt inferior tonight, watching him throw his head back in laughter with old friends. She knew he was the face of Ithaca, the reason men traveled from far and wide - people were drawn to him, like moths to a flame.
She had fallen victim to the same charms all those years ago. A bright young man with a mischievous glint in his eye. She had known he was trouble the moment she overheard him arguing and bartering with her cousin’s father. His reckless confidence was impossible to resist. Even though she had learned to be cautious, even she couldn’t stop herself from sneaking out to meet him.
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He was grinning before she could even fully make him out against the gentle lap of the ocean waves. He knew she would come, she could see it in his eyes. There was never a doubt in his mind.
“Oh daughter of Icarius, what a lucky man I am for you to spend your evening here with me.” His voice carried confidently across the sand, his auburn hair illuminated in the moonlight. He bowed, arms outstretched, as she approached. The young king’s eyes sparkled with mischief as he watched her.
She almost turned around, leaving him alone on the sand. Forcing herself not to roll her eyes, she continued, watching as he drew nearer to her. “May I call you Penelope?” He asked, his throat tightening with an unspoken emotion as he swallowed. Perhaps the King of Ithaca wasn’t as confident as he led others to believe.
“Most people tend to.” She responded, forgoing all practicum and manners. The man in front of her was a king. He was several years her senior and held a power she had never even dreamed of.
“Ah, the princess has a bite to her,” Odysseus laughed, throwing his head back. Penelope watched, eyes wide. She had never seen such an outward display. Her mother and father kept their emotions, even their joys, tightly wound.
This time, she couldn’t stop the scoff that came out of her mouth. “If this is your idea of flattery, it won’t get you very far, king of Ithaca.” She told the man before her, “Suitors have brought horses, goats, gems, and treasures from far and wide. Helen will never pick a man with your unruly mouth.”
“And what if I told you I have no interest in Helen?”
“Great waste of your time then, isn’t it?” Though her heart skipped a beat. Surely she was being fanciful. Penelope was plain, an ordinary woman. Men tripped over themselves for women like Helen. Her father made many mentions of how her dowry would have to be very large in order to sell her off.
“No, no, I don’t think so.” His head was cocked as he took another step towards her. Her breath caught in her throat, chin tilting up to keep eye contact. He took yet another step, this one slower, leaving a question unasked in the air around them.
