Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

His hands held the Trident tightly, knuckles white, ichor smeared across his face, he stared down at the God, the God of the tides, crumpled into a pile, covered in his own ichor, screams ripping through the air, as thunder split the sky, as rain washed down on Odysseus.

He dug the prongs of the Trident into the arm of its master, dragging it through the Gods arm, as he screamed and begged, perhaps, if Odysseus was the same man he was only ten years ago, he’d have stopped, he’d have tried to organize some sort of compromise.

Instead, he grinned, slowing as he tore the Gods arm, the sick crunching of meat tearing slowly, he pulled the trident out of the Gods arm, ichor dripping slowly onto the rocks, the storm was slowing, though the thunder simply screamed louder.

He revelled in the idea of Zeus, King God, watching down as his brother was tortured, and yet doing nothing, he hoped Poseidon felt it, that feeling of being helpless, of having people who love you do nothing.

He hoped he felt the sting of betrayal, of abandonment.

He heard the God scream out, his ears tuning into the screams, he expected more begging, more pathetic grovelling, the type of screaming he’d once done, the screaming that was ignored, by the God he was torturing.

“alright! Please"

The storm stopped, the thunder quietened, he dropped the Trident down by his side, the sound of metal hitting stone filling his ears, the water lapped lazily at the rocks, touching his heels, though no hands reached out to drag him down, no waves spilled over his head.

The god was too weak for that.

“after everything you’ve done tonight. How will you sleep at night?”

The God's voice was gravelly, weak, the words alone made him wish to pick up the trident, to spear it into Poseidon's eyes, instead he smiled, and spoke.

“next to my wife”

__________________________________________________________________________________

He must have looked a mess, with dried ichor staining his face and hands, with blood splattered across his chest, he didn’t miss the way his son seemed almost to shake upon seeing him, the fear so evident across his face.

He couldn’t stand it, couldn’t trust himself to speak, no, should he have spoken first he wouldn’t know what he’d say, would he start crying inconsolably, he felt like he was going to no matter if he spoke or not.

“father?”

He snapped his gaze back to Telemachus, eyes meeting his sons, he had the same stormy eyes as Odysseus, he didn’t know why such a detail made the tears flow out of his eyes, it was a detail he knew well, the last thing he truly remembered of his son, grey stormy eyes, eyes that clung in his mind almost as tightly as Penelope's.

“son”

He was home, he could hardly stand, his breath caught in his throat, twenty long years away from home, and he was back, it didn’t feel real.

He was home he was safe, he could stop fleeing and fighting.

He was finally, finally safe.

Chapter Text

He was in his room, sitting on a bed he’d made, staring out the window, down on the grounds was Telemachus, training with a God he’d thought he’d never see again, a God he frankly had wished not to see again.

Athena.

She'd left him, she’d abandoned him, she hadn’t answered his desperate calls, all because he made one mistake, he’d chosen mercy one too many times, and yet she thought she had the right to train his son.

He wanted to storm down there, to yell at her, and then his son, but he knew that was foolish, he hadn’t been around to teach Telemachus how to fight, how to lead, how to rule, he was hardly the man's father, so what right did he have to tell Telemachus to stop.

Instead, he sat on a bed that he’d made by hand, breathing in fresh air, air that didn’t stink of salt, air that didn’t remind him that, at any second, Poseidon could come, and could kill him, could stop his journey at a moments notice.

It was weird.

It was weird knowing he didn’t have to fear for his life at every second, and yet constantly worrying, constantly feeling like something was wrong, like he’d die if he let down his guard, he hadn’t even told Penelope what happened, hadn’t told Telemachus where he’d been.

His eyes drew back to the window, the sun had almost completely set, and the moon was creeping up, his eyebrows furrowed, he’d never lost track of time like that, not once in his life, and yet, here he was, sitting on a bed that should have been dusty, staring at the sun setting.

He dragged his gaze down to the fields where Athena and Telemachus had been training, half expecting them to still be doing just that, he expected Athena to push Telemachus to his limits, as she’d pushed him to his.

Instead they were sitting down on the grass, their weapons abandoned behind them, it was the first time he’d seen Athena abandon her spear, to leave it out of sight. Briefly his stomach twisted with an ugly emotion. Jealousy.

He dragged himself up and off the bed, eyes darting around the room, no threats, no danger. His legs shook as he walked, he hadn’t even slept yet, though it had been a day, he had simply lay in the bed, not used to the plushness of the bed, he’d stared at the ceiling for hours, before getting up, and walking around, looking for danger.

Now, his head felt full off cotton, and his body ached to sleep, he could not let himself, he had people to protect, a whole kingdom. He would not make any more mistakes, would not cost the lives of anybody else.

He opened the door, eyes sharp, looking for danger, instead he found his beautiful wife, Penelope, her face sporting an expression of concern, an expression he’d never wished to see her wear.

“Ody, are you okay? You haven’t left our room in hours”

He frowned, his brows furrowing, he knew that already, he’d been shocked by it initially, but now as the minutes had passed, he’d come to terms with it, having evaded sleep for what could have been three days in a row by now would do things to a man, this he knew.

“i am fine Penelope, i was sleeping”

At that Penelope’s eyebrows lifted, her lips creasing into a line, she exhaled sharply through her nose, her fingers finding their way to her braided hair, fiddling with the loose strands, the ones upbraided at the end of the tie.

A nervous habit, one she’d done for years, even when her hair was shorter, when it went only to her chest, her hands always found themselves twisting hair around them, Odysseus didn’t know why she did it, nor when she’d picked it up, but he knew it meant she knew she was lying.

She dropped her hands from her hair, reaching one forwards to cup his face with, his skin crawled at the touch, an ugly reminder of Calypso, even the thought of comparing his beautiful wife with the woman who’d kept him trapped on that accursed island made his stomach spin with guilt and disgust, not at Penelope, but at himself.

“you haven’t been sleeping Odysseus, you’ve got bags under your eyes, so what were you doing?”

He frowned, staring at her, he shouldn’t have lied, for one he knew it was just wrong to do, but he should have known Penelope would have seen right through it, even if he had Hypnos backing him up.

“nothing”

It was the truth, he’d done nothing, nothing but think, and stare down at his son and his old teacher, watching them spar, though nothing they did had even registered in his mind.

“literally nothing? Or are you avoiding telling me something?”

Her eyebrows were furrowed, her arms crossed across her chest, brown eyes with a piercing stare, not judgement but worry, that worry that had made her decide to pause her day to come check on him.

“literally nothing.”

He clarified, and she only looked more concerned by that, but at least he wasn’t lying to her, he couldn’t do that, not after twenty years away from her.

“look, dinners ready, join us, won’t you? I can get Athena to join us, if you’d like. I know she was your old mentor”

He frowned, was it truly that late? The idea of Athena joining them, it wasn’t awful, and he knew she meant no harm by offering it, she didn’t know what had happened to their relationship, how he’d ruined it, how he’d been abandoned.

“yeah sure, bring Athena over”

The words left his lips before he could truly consider them, the idea of them, not to mention he knew someone, it didn’t matter who, would ask him what had happened to strand him at sea for twenty years.

Penelope nodded, a calmer smile on her face.

“i’ll go get Telemachus and Athena, I assume you still remember where the dining room is?”

He nodded, he hadn’t let himself forget the layout of his castle, he’d gone as far as to draw maps of it in the sand and dirt, to study it, to burn it into his brain, and then to wipe it away, that was on calypso’s island, trapped for seven years.

He moved quickly, hands crossed across his chest as he roamed the halls that he’d built himself, his hands itching to grab the dagger he kept on his hip, to look for any danger, though he knew none would come for him.

The dining room was almost exactly as he’d remembered it, a large table, though low to the ground, a mat across it, set already with clay plates and larger ones, made for serving meals, it looked almost to be a feast, though the table was only set for four.

A cow, and a small bowl, filled with salad, Odysseus knew he wouldn’t be eating the cow, no matter how much he knew he’d need the meat, love it perhaps, he couldn’t. Not after the decision he’d had to make, where he let forty nine men die.

He did not sit, instead he stood and waited, he knew he could have, probably should have, but he wanted to wait for his wife, for his son, for the God that had abandoned him. They arrived quickly, his eyes locking with Athena’s, she averted her gaze, nodding awkwardly at him, he returned the gesture.

Penelope sat down, and so he followed suit, eyes tracking Athena and his son, watching them sit down next to each other, finally after a few seconds of silence, Penelope spoke.

“I’ll get everybody some meat”

He stared at her for a brief few seconds, gripping the fabric of his Chiton tightly, knuckles white, he watched her serve Telemachus, Athena, herself, and then she moved to serve him, and he spoke.

“don’t get me any meat please Penelope”

His words came out jumbled and quick, scared. He was scared, and of what? Eating a little meat, he was a king for Gods sake, he fought Poseidon and one, and yet here he was, trembling at the idea of a dead cow.

Penelope looked at him in concern, as did his son, and Athena, the expression suited none of them.

“are you sure Ody?”

She’d already sat back down, having listened to him, something he was thankful for, he was sure that Calypso wouldn’t have listened to him.

He'd done it again, compared his beautiful, loving wife to Calypso, guilt pooled in his stomach.

“yes Pen, I'm just not very hungry today”

She nodded, and silence fell around the room, thick enough to be cut with a dagger. again it did not last long, though this time the one breaking the silence was not his lovely wife, but instead his Son.

“dad, Mother said you left with six hundred men, what happened to that?”

He dropped the fork that he’d been loosely holding. His crew. His friends. Six hundred lives lost, all so he could get home. He didn’t even know how to answer the question, could hardly look his son in the eyes, he knew he’d be grinning, a sparkle in his eyes, and he knew he would do nothing but disappoint his son.

And still he knew he could not avoid this, not forever, and avoiding it now would only cause him strife in the future, so he willed himself to speak. Only one word left his lips.

“Poseidon”

Chapter Text

Their expressions, he couldn’t stand to look at them, with furrowed brows and pursed lips, Athena in particular stared at him, she knew it wasn’t the full story, she knew he couldn’t blame Poseidon for everything wrong in his life.  

“I...that's not all of it though”  

Penelope nodded, though she made no other gestures, his eyes darted away from her, he didn’t want to feel her judgement, didn’t want to say this, didn’t want the monster he was to be the only impression of him that his son would ever get.  

“we won the war, against troy. Not a single man died. So we set sail, for ithica. We were hungry, ten years at war depleted our resources. We needed food, six hundred men were hungry, i couldn’t ignore them, it was only meant to be a quick stop”  

Penelope nodded as he paused, a gesture, an offer to continue, an offer he knew he’d have to take, he’d already started and the words seemed to roll off his tongue.  

“we found a cave, filled with sheep, enough to feed six hundred for weeks, without thought we killed one. The cyclops killed polites. Killed five of our crew, maybe more, we didn’t have time to count.  

We blinded him. And made off. I told him my name.”  

He paused, taking in another deep breath, he felt tears prick at his eyes, threatening to spill over, threatening to show how he truly felt, but no. He did not let them, instead he continued, he didn’t think he could stop.  

“we set to sail. And Poseidon. He...he killed our men, five hundred and fifty, give or take a few, the cyclops, it was his son. I was going to die, forty-nine men were going to die. I couldn’t let it happen.  

The wind bag. I used it”  

Telemachus' eyes narrowed, eyebrows furrowing, he ignored the odd look Athena had given him, he didn’t want to think, not about the fact he’d omitted their fallout, he didn’t know why, but admitting it felt so wrong.  

“what windbag? You didn’t mention it”  

He hadn’t, he didn’t even know why, nothing truly bad had happened with Aeolus, save for what Eurylochus had done, what his men had done, they just never listened to him, did they?   

“i’m sorry, i must’ve forgotten to mention it. Twenty years weighs heavy. We got the windbag from Aeolus, my men opened it, thinking it was treasure, it must have alerted Poseidon.”  

He paused, maybe to breathe, maybe because he could swore, he felt the prick of eyes on his back, the crunch of something in the background, but nobody else reacted, he must have just heard something, and yet he could not stop being on edge.  

“i sailed. With forty nine men, and no food. We found an island, the island of Circe, she turned my men to pigs. Only three of them, but i could not stand for it, Eurylochus told me to leave them, i could not.  

Fighting back did not work. So i told her of you Penelope, it moved her, apparently, because she turned them back, told me of a man that could help us, he was dead, down in hades.  

So we went, with her help of course, he told us things, the most important was that we were to find cows, golden and delicious, we were not to kill them”  

Penelope’s eyes dragged to the cow, and when he finally looked at Athena she wore an expression of pity, one that his wife seemed to wear as well, it almost disgusted him, had it been anyone but his wife and old friend he’d have simply left.  

“someone killed one of Helios's cows. The golden ones, they were Helios’s, anyway, they sacrificed the cow to Zeus, and he did appear. Not to thank us, no, to kill us, he gave us an ultimatum. Me. Or my crew. I...i had to see you again, both of you”  

He stared at his feet, he couldn’t bare the faces of his family, he couldn’t face the idea of telling them what Calypso had done, and yet what was he going to do?  

“i arrived on an island. One with a woman, her name was Calypso, she trapped me there for seven years...someone set me free, and i left, i sailed and i sailed and-”  

And a window broke, his head snapped to the sound, hand on his hip, fingers grasping for his dagger, instead of finding an intruder, perhaps a suitor he’d failed to kill, he found a God, a God with a familiar hat, one with copper wings, one that shadowed his face.  

A God with a satchel against his hip, a God with golden sandals, white fluffy wings that let him fly, the only God he found himself actually excited to see. Hermes. His one true friend, the only person who’d stuck with him through it all, who he had managed not to push away.  

“oh darling! It seems you’ve forgotten a crucial aspect of your trip...ME!”  

The God wore a crooked grin on his face, an arm wrapped around Odysseus’s shoulder, fluffy brown coat plush against Odysseus’s skin, the God had casually dropped his hat down on the table, his orange circular glasses visible on his face.  

“i did not forget you Hermes, i was getting to you.”  

The God laughed obnoxiously, and that laugh brought a tired grin to Odysseus’s face, a grin he seemed to reserve only for Hermes and his family.  

“oh but you did darling! Who helped you escape Circe? it was me everybody!”  

He laughed, not because Hermes was wrong, no instead because he knew Hermes was correct, not to mention his wife and son were giving him the most bewildered expressions, he couldn’t read Athena’s expression though, he’d never been able to. At least not well.  

“okay Hermes, i admit i forgot to mention that, may i continue?”  

Hermes simply lifted off the ground, sitting mid air, legs crossed, hands still, held in his lap, he was being oddly still, though he supposed it made sense, he’d only truly interacted with Hermes when he had to be moving, had to get somewhere.  

“i don’t think i can trust you to tell the full story anymore Darling! So I'll recount it from here!”  

The God wore a familiar grin, pushing his glasses back up as the began to slip down his face, Odysseus found himself smiling and rolling his eyes, he wouldn’t mind letting hermes take the reigns for a bit, this had been...taxing, to say the least.  

“so, there i was, just meandering about Circe’s island, as you do, definitely not following Ody, when i see he’s trying to find Circe, and me being the most gracious person ever decided to swoop in and help.  

I got him the root of a plant, that let him resist Circe’s spells, if i hadn’t your husband would be a pig!”  

Odysseus rolled his eyes, he could have gotten past it he was sure, glancing up at his family he was relieved to see they weren’t on edge, Penelope's eyebrows were raised, she must have seen the exaggeration in his words.   

“so, he defeats Circe, not through fighting of course, but word! He-”  

Odysseus didn’t feel like listening to Hermes recount the rest of his tale, he was taking too long, and the part Odysseus had forgotten to mention was done.  

“yes. I have told them Hermes. I will continue now.  

Where was i? Right. I sailed. To another stretch of land, where Hermes helped me. I suppose, gave me some advice.  

I was so close. Barely a stretch away from Ithica. I....Poseidon...again.”  

This time, when Hermes interrupted, he was not as boisterous, having gone back down to the floor, a hand of Odysseus’s shoulder.  

“Poseidon didn’t keep him for long don't you worry! i'm sure you saw that storm the other day! that was him, he absolutely brutalised Poseidon, just destroyed him!”  

He couldn't tell if he was glad that Hermes had filled them in on that, he didn't know if he'd have been able to recount it himself, yet the way Hermes said it, so excited, so proud of him for such an awful act, it made his stomach roil, at least Hermes hadn't recounted everything word for word, Telemachus didn't need to know just how ruthless he'd been.  

Chapter Text

the night was young, Selene hardly had brought upon the moon, it was still dipped low in the sky, the sun hardly a whisper, though its light still shone kindly as it sunk below sight, he watched them, slow and painful the view was, as hours passed, as the moon hung in the middle of the sky, almost taunting him.  

Had he somehow upset Hypnos? Sleep was evading him, and yet his eyes hung so heavy, he could hardly hold them open. Beside him lay his wife, though he’d put as much distance between them as he could, guilt spun in his stomach, but touch, from anyone made his skin crawl.  

Shutting his eyes, he stared at the darkness that his eyelids provided, hours must have passed before sleep finally claimed him. His world was no longer dark and unfeeling, the fabric of the bed no longer holding him down.  

Instead, he could not breathe. His chest felt as if something was weighing heavy down on it, his eyes would not open no matter how hard he tried to open them, something was in his chest, something piercing through it.  

Finally, the ground the water? Opened up, and the world came into colour, a green field, an olive tree on a hill, one so far away, with the woman he loved, his legs moved quicker than he thought they could.  

A hand wrapped around his ankle, his face met the ground, dirt crawling into his mouth, his head whipped around, a hand grabbing at his calf, bloodied and slipping down, Polities, his eyes bruised, his legs bloodied and shattered.  

“you left me to die, Odysseus”  

The voice echoed around the the island, clouds rolling in, a face in the fog, one with pale skin, white hair that whipped around the island like smoke, a grin on his face, bodies lay on the ground, his friends, his crew. Forty nine men, dead at his command.  

Chapter Text

He sat up sharply, he was in his bed, with his wife, there was no Polites, there was no Zeus, just him.   

The room was dark, like the water, the water that had tried to hold him under, the air was not fresh, not like he would have liked it, no, it was stiff, stale, the room had never felt less inviting.  

On his wife’s desk was a scroll, one accompanied by a small bottle, round, with some sort of liquid in it, he frowned, biting at his lip as he thought, his teeth tore too deep, blood spilled through his mouth, metallic, salty. Blood. A taste he knew far too well.  

He moved slowly, shifting the sheets off his legs and shakily walking over to the scroll, holding it lightly, thump pressed under the flap that had been sealed with wax, wax with a wing imprinted into it.  

Hermes.  

He opened the scroll with both hands, carefully peeling the hardened seal off, placing it down on his desk, and unravelling the paper, the words were inked, and based off the words he’d crossed off it was clear Hermes had not planned before he had written.  

‘hello Darling! Hypnos said he hasn’t been able to reach you as well as usual, so i managed to nick something for you! All you need to know is that it will help you sleep at night! Use it wisely, i only have so much to give you!   

If you do ever need more just call my name darling, I'll be over in a jiffy!’  

He frowned, could he trust it? Probably, but still. He'd felt the affects of the holy moly for weeks afterwards, always tired, always chasing that high he’d been given, finally the jolts of thunder and the adrenaline that coursed through his veins had given his brain enough to remember fears face.  

To smell the charred remains of his fallen comrades had wakened him almost immediately, it was a feeling he wouldn’t ever chase again. Though that tired still reached its Boney hands at his throat sometimes.  

He didn’t need that sleep, he’d lasted days without it, he could last one more. He must’ve gotten an hour anyhow, it would be enough. He dropped scroll as though it were made of fire and rushed out of the room, careful to be quiet.  

The halls were quiet, he didn’t know if he liked it or not, he couldn’t really tell, on the one hand, it was comforting, to be in such quiet, he knew he’d hear any movement made, and yet, his mind would not stop reminding him, that he’d thought he would hear Poseidon. And he didn’t.  

He opened the doors, the large garden was quiet, though the sound of breathing was not lost on him, sitting alone on a bench was Athena, her helmet lost, long red hair spilling over her shoulders.  

There was a scar, large and almost symmetrical and yet so clearly that of lightning, of Zeus, he knew because he himself had one, he’d only been grazed by the lightning, yet it had stung awfully for months, sometimes it still stung.  

“Athena, what are you doing out here?”  

She turned her head sharply to him, eyes wide, owl like, her posture was stiff and rigid, but only for a moment, her shoulders lowered, though it was a sharp movement, intentional, she stared at him for a good few seconds, her stare felt scrutinizing.  

“Nothing”  

Her tone was bland, so much unlike her that it worried him, he moved slowly, careful not to make sharp movement as he walked in front of her, sitting himself down next to her, the bench cold.  

“silence doesn’t suit you”  

He said finally, voice oddly calm for the anxiety that pulsed through his veins, she once more did not respond for seconds, as if her mind was lost somewhere, as if she had to think of her responses, though he doubted that, she was Athena, her mind was quicker than Hermes.  

“i couldn’t sleep. Does that answer appease you Odysseus?”  

He frowned, his teeth going back to bite his lower lip, a habit he’d picked up far too long ago, back when he still had Polites. He recognised something, he and Athena were on awful terms, and a part of him still yearned for her friendship.  

“no. I am not. Athena, we aren’t on good terms, and i know that i didn’t want to be your warrior anymore, but why does that make you so averse to being my friend?”  

The words left his throat, choked out as his lips quivered, he was scared, again. He was scared with a more reasonable excuse this time, he reasoned. He was talking back to a god, sort of.  

“i... did not think you wanted to be my friend. You never clarified”  

Her voice held a hesitant tone, Her eyes adorned with heavy purple bags, she clearly hadn’t slept in a long time, guilt swam in his stomach as he looked at her, was her tiredness his fault? Was that scar, the one that stretched down her eyebrow to her neck, his fault?  

“i didn’t think i needed to.”  

His words came out harsher and more bitter than he’d intended, her eyes narrowed, and her taloned hands held her skirt tightly as she opened her mouth to speak, but he ran his words over any should could have tried to speak.  

“i should have told you though. You aren’t a mind reader. I think”  

That got a chuckle out of her, her grip on her skirt loosening as she turned to him, it was odd he realised now, for her not to wear that helmet of hers, in almost all of their interactions prior she’d been wearing it, as if preparing for a fight she knew wouldn’t come.  

“would you maybe, like to have a do over? Try again, at being friends that is.”  

Her words pierced the silence he’d hardly realised had fallen over them, slowly he nodded, turning his head to look properly at her, to meet her gaze.  

“sure.”  

That familiar silence returned, a cold blanket, though one that was familiar to them both, he stared up at the sky, the darkness was fading into a warm orange, the sun was beginning to rise.  

“i should go”  

And with that, Athena’s form changed, something almost impossible to see for him, one second athena stood beside him, and the next an owl was flying through the air.  

Chapter Text

He couldn’t help but stare at the sky as he sat on the cold bench, the sun crept up, its rosey light illuminating the garden around him, grape vines bore fruits that would soon be turned to wine.  

Flowers of types he didn’t care to remember the names of littered the floor, their sweet scents filling the air, a calm tranquillity let him finally slow his mind. The gardens had always been like this for him.  

His head snapped to the side as the sound of leaves and twigs crunching underfoot filled the air, the chirps of birds flying away from the sound followed by silence. The woman next to him was of course his wife, though she wore an expression of panic, that slowly melted into one of anger.  

“Odysseus, i know you have been at sea for twenty years, but please do not dissapear on me like this again”  

He stared at her, his eyebrows furrowed, he couldn’t understand it, not really. She'd never been mad at him for sneaking out before those awful twenty years, he couldn’t have possibly even been out that long, certainly not long enough to worry.  

The dawned sun refuted that point harshly, with light that forced him to squint to even look at Penelope, so instead he looked at the ground.  

“it was never a problem before”  

The sun shone harder on his back, an almost painful warmth, he looked back up at Penelope, eyes squinted to make out her face from the light that refused to dim, her eyes held an anger he’d only seen in wars, the look of fear and anger mixed.   

“Ody. That was before you disappeared for twenty years! How am i meant to feel! Waking up and finding my husband gone again, how am i to not panic! To think this was all a dream!”  

He could have sworn he saw tears filling her eyes, he let out a tired sigh, standing up from the bench and facing her properly. He hadn’t even considered that she’d panic if he was gone, he hadn’t considered her thoughts at all.  

What kind of husband did that make him?  

“i’m sorry Pen”  

The words left his lips almost automatically, though they couldn’t live up to the guilt that swam angrily in his stomach.  

“i won’t leave you ever again, won’t even touch a boat”  

He attempted at a joke, to lighten the air, Penelope’s eyebrows furrowed, and she moved to sit down next to him, taking his hand in hers.  

“Ody, I'm not asking you to not leave, you’re a king, you’ll have to. But just...tell me, before you disappear”  

He sighed, leaning his head against her shoulder.  

“okay.”  

They sat like that for a long minute, the silence stiff and uncomfortable, he heard Penelope take in a deep breath, before she spoke.  

“you have a meeting today. You've come back and, people want to know what happened. Along with that My father would like to know if you’ll continue your reign.”  

He turned to face her, eyes widened, he’d hardly been home at all, barely a week, and already people were clamouring for a story, one of granduer, one that told them why six hundred men were dead.  

Six hundred sons, six hundred husbands, six hundred fathers. All dead, at his command.  

He stood up stiffly, eyes darting around the once serene garden, as if panicked, as if he believed someone was there, but no. He was not panicked. If he was panicked surely he’d be in danger, and he was not.  

Again his eyes fell onto Penelope, her hair was loose and fell over her shoulders, she looked tired, he didn’t like it, didn’t like what she’d had to do for Ithica. Didn't like what she’d had to avoid.  

He hadn’t been there for her.  

“i’m...i’m going to go get ready”  

He rushed off quickly, legs moving him through halls of a palace built by his hands, and yet that palace seemed so foreign to him now, only just gaining people working, women and men, cleaning stables and making wine. People who’d been driven out by the suitors.  

It still wasn’t home, no matter how much he wanted it to be, he hadn’t had a home in a long time now.  

He burst into the bedroom, locking the doors behind him and collapsing down on the bed, chest heaving as he tried to get oxygen into his lungs, and ever cheeky Aolus seemed to evade him, to rob his lungs of the air he needed so desperately.  

“Odysseus darling, the air isn’t going anywhere”  

He shot his head up to the godly voice that hung in the air, his eyes meeting with Hermes’s, the confusion of it, of a literal God being in his own bedroom, giving him what he could hardly call advice, seemed to shock him enough to stop hyperventilating.  

“hermes. What are you doing?”  

He didn’t mean to sound so brazen, so rude, and yet he could hardly control his tone, the panic that seeped into his voice.  

“well, i wanted to check in on my favourite relative, seriously Darling you are so much better than my siblings, anyway, i wanted to check in on you and here i find you trying to breath in all the air in the room!”  

He stared at Hermes, the information almost an overload, one phrase seemed to jump out at him, ‘relative’ as if he were related to a literal god, the idea was humerous, if not a little scary.  

“what do you mean relative?”  

Again his voice was stiff and scratchy, though it didn’t seem like Hermes cared.  

“you’re my great grandson! Did i not tell you?”  

He blinked slowly, staring at Hermes, the god wasn’t joking, it was obvious as day, slowly he stood up, grabbing his cape, a blue one, Penelope had made it for him twenty years ago, he hadn’t taken it with him, choosing to take a worse one, he hadn’t wanted to ruin it.  

Clipping it onto his shoulder he moved quickly to grab his sandals.  

“no, no you did not.”  

Hermes laughed, that stupid maniacal laugh, though he couldn’t find it in himself to truly hate it, it was part of Hermes’s character, a character he’d once wondered about the realness of.  

“what are you getting dressed for Darling?”  

He sighed, turning back to face Hermes, the reality of what he’d have to do, what he’d have to admit to, that he’d singlehandedly killed six hundred men.  it sent a shiver down his spine.  

“a meeting, the people of Ithica want to know where I've been”  

What I've done.  

The thought was angry, and cruel. Something he didn’t want to say, he didn’t know if he could even rehash what had happened.  

“you’ll do great darling promise! You’ve got my genes! You can spin the tale as much as you want, make yourself out to be the hero if you need it!”  

He stared at Hermes, frowning, he really couldn’t see the resemblance between them, how was he related to such a trickster?  

“i don’t need to lie to them. And i don’t want to.”  

Hermes must have noticed his fear, because the god settled down on the bed beside him, sitting cross legged, he fiddled with his arm guard, before taking it off and placing it in Odysseus’s lap.  

“Ody, you’ll be okay. They'll understand. And you don’t need to say everything okay. I'll be there for you okay”  

And with that, Hermes was gone, a Hawk flying out the window, a feather left on the bed, the only evidence of him.  

Odysseus looked at the arm guard, a frown etching on his face, before he tied it around his arm, a comfort. He had at least one god on his side.  

He could do this, for the six hundred.

Chapter Text

The meeting room was one he used to spend most of his days in, sat at a table letting compaints and messages be heard, though most often they were personal issues that he could do nothing to alleviate.  

Now he was here with three men, one to write the contents of the meeting, something he’d once been excited to have, now something that made dread pool in his stomach, across from him was a person who’d been appointed to ask the towns questions.  

And finally, icarius sat to his side, the man far older than he’d been last Odysseuss had seen him, then again it had been over twenty years, his hair was graying, his eyes set deep in bags.  

He placed his hand over the arm guard Hermes had given him, he was safe, sort of. There was always the chance that Icarius could attack him, or the townsman, maybe even the scribe, he had a knife at his hip for a reason, hidden under the folds of his chiton.  

He glanced at the window, a hawk stood with almost golden tinted feathers, Hermes he assumed, he was being watched, he had a god on his side, for the first time in a long time.  

“Odysseus of Ithica”  

The words snapped him out of his stupor, his eyes dragging to the townsman, he wasn’t bad looking at all, rather average for an Ithican man, his hair was short and his beard was not scruffy like Odysseus’s had been once.  

“i am here as a symbol of Ithica’s people, with a list of questions, may i ask them?”  

And as he had once done, the way he used to speak, the way these meetings always went he nodded, the townsman spoke again, though his voice was shaky, almost afraid.  

“we want to know if the queen will continue reigning, or if you will take the throne again?”  

It was an easy question, and one he was thankful for, something he could answer strongly, at least he’d assumed, he hadn’t asked Penelope had he? Hadn't wondered if he could even rule a kingdom properly.  

Still he could not answer with that, his people had to listen to him.  

“we will continue to rule together, as we always have.”  

The Townsman nodded, and looking back at the window he saw the Hawk looked almost to be grinning, though he couldn’t place how.   

the townsman spoke once more.  

“Penelope in your absence has changed how we procure meat to make it more ethically sound, now that you have returned will you change it back?”  

He stared the townsman, he didn’t particularly know what changes had been made, but he trusted his wife, if she found it fit to change something, then he’d keep that change.  

“Penelope is my wife, i trust her decisions, the changes will be kept”  

Again he held his arm tighter, these choices were too easy far far too easy, he knew they had to ramping up to something big, no war was easy, no fight was easy, and even if he had no sword drawn this was still a fight.  

Again the Townsman spoke, a question he’d been dreading.  

“what happened to leave you stranded out for twenty years”  

Vaguely he was aware that he was being stared at, his heart sped up like horses on a marathon, his lungs refused to get enough oxygen and yet he couldn’t find it in him to try and draw any in, he was scared.  

And he’d frozen up on the battlefield.  

“we were shipwrecked, left alone on an island with nothing but sheep, unknowing to the monster that lurked we hunted one, a cyclopes killed our men. I attacked him, blinded him and with the men we had left we fled, we gave him mercy.  

The cyclopes was son to Poseidon and gave lies to him that we attacked him with no rhyme or reason, we angered Poseidon by accident, and our men died. I was left stranded for years alone on an island, before i could build a raft and make my way to home.”  

It was a lie. All of it.  

Turning his gaze back to the hawk it seemed proud almost, a flash of gold and the hawk was a man, with a golden cap hung over his eyes, Hermes was going to get himself caught like this. He waved with his fingers a grin on his face.  

He turned his gaze away from the waving Hermes back to the townsman.  

“right, I'm sorry to hear that. Final question, Ctimene told me to mention that it was her who asks.  

Why did you let Eurylochus die?”  

His breath caught in his throat. He stared at the townsman, and it seemed without his own will that lips ran lies, was it Hermes doing this?  

“i tried to save him, but he gave his life for mine”  

A lie, an absolute lie. He felt sick to his stomach, and yet he couldn’t refute it, now that he’d spoken it.  

Finally Icarius spoke, the mans voice gruff.  

“do you feel guilt. For abandoning my daughter for twenty years, leaving her to deal with one hundred and thirty men vying after her”  

He stared at Icarius, again he was sure that Hermes could have helped, but he didn’t need that help, not today.  

“of course i do. I spent twenty years dreaming of the moment i could see my wife again. And that moment was better than anything i could have imagined”  

Icarius didn’t respond, not for a good few seconds, before finally he nodded, short and curt, finally Icarius stood, and so did the Townsman, the meeting was over, and he could not have wished for anymore in the moment, the feeling of his entire being scrutinized was something he wasn’t sure he’d ever get used to again.  

He watched them leave, the offer to show them out cold and foreign on his tongue, so he simply let them leave, staying seated on his chair, watching the table with tired eyes, how was he to rule his own kingdom if he could hardly make decisions, if he had to have the God of lies help him speak.  

“you did so well darling! Positively amazing!” 

He turned his head sharply, eyes widening as they met with Hermes’s almost golden ones, he narrowed his eyes, hoping to slow his heart rate before it became evident just how much Hermes had startled him.  

“you helped me with almost all of it.”  

The words rolled off his tongue easily, not a lie, but not quite the truth. He didn’t miss the way the Gods eyes widened, the way his eyebrows raised, not startled, no God could be. No instead surprised, proud maybe? He'd lost his ability to make anything out of facial expressions.  

Seven years trapped almost all alone on an island would do that to you. Seven years with only two emotions to read, Pity and Anger.  

“exactly! Thats why it was so good! Don't sell yourself short though darling, you did do a LOT” 

He scoffed, how was he meant to believe that, when he’d clammed up at almost every question, the only ones that he could answer were the easy ones, everything else was Hermes.  

But he didn’t bother arguing that, not when Gods never listened.  

Never listened to thank you’s or sorry’s, to begging and crying and screaming for them to spare him, to spare six hundred.  

Chapter Text

Odysseus for all his claims, had not spoken to his son much, the air around them was awkward, he was quite sure that was his own fault, he’d very much missed twenty years of the boys life, how was he to make up for that spare time.  

Apparently, it was by training him, Telemachus had come into his room at the crack of dawn, a bright smile upon his face, one that Odysseus would never forget, he’d never forget a single thing about this, a peaceful life, one his mind seemed so eager to leave behind.  

He wouldn’t say he wasn’t scared, because he was. He was terrified of losing his family again, perhaps that's why he’d been so hesitant to talk with him, or Penelope, perhaps that's why he spent his days whittling wood and talking to a God who seemed so eager to bother him.  

“Father! Athena’s off doing some Olympian business, would you mind training me in her stead?”  

His eyes were wide and bright, and he supposed it explained why Hermes hadn’t come to regale him with tales that were most certainly not true, or at least ones riddled with so many lies the truths in them were buried.  

He found himself nodding, after all how could he say no, he’d longed to help his son train only days ago, and yet now that the opportunity arose, he was almost scared, what if he hurt his son?  

He stood up placing his carving knife down, along with the half finished Tortoise Hermes had all but begged him to carve for him.  

“what weapon is Athena training you in now?”  

He asked, standing with shaking legs, he willed himself to stand casually, not so formally, not so scared, it was only his son for titans' sake, only his son.  

“hm, she’s been training me with the spear, but to be honest, i don’t really understand it that well”  

He nodded slipping into sandals that he didn’t quite remember placing near his bed, he walked to the door in the middle of the room, holding a hand out to Telemachus, an offer, one that his son accepted.  

He led him to the weapons room, one he’d had difficulty scrubbing the blood out of, flecks of it still covered long abandoned weapons, and tapestries yet to be taken down and remade.  

He stared at the spears, he hadn’t held one in so long he was sure he was rusty himself, so instead he walked to the swords, grabbing one in his hands, the hilt wooden and comfortable in his worn hands.  

The other he tossed to Telemachus.  

“lets give you a break from the spear, maybe you’ll figure it out if you stop thinking about it so much”  

He didn’t miss how Telemachus flinched almost, at the sword hurtling towards him, before catching it, fumbling it slightly, he smiled at it, Telemachus reminded him of himself, even if he didn’t like that.  

The walk to the cliff was lead by Telemachus, in the first silence between the two that felt comfortable. He watched his son get into position, his eyes darting around him, looking for weaknesses, pauses, anything to get the upper hand.  

First he blocked a parry, then Telemachus blocked one he returned, he swung his sword forwards, ducking down to miss Telemachus as he moved to block Odysseus, he wasn’t playing fair he knew it, but war was hardly ever fair.  

He blinked, the thought foreign yet so comfortable in his mind, war. He wasn’t at war, he was with his son, practicing, so he let Telemachus get the second strike, one he moved to block of course, he’d rather not die to his own son.  

Then Telemachus managed to catch him off guard.  

“did you make Athena that little owl hilt on her spear?”  

The question was odd, he’d not expected it, though he supposed it was befitting of him, conversation during a fight was hard, and it would be a great distraction for him if he ever began to loose in a battle, it was a strategy Odysseus had employed himself once or twice.  

“Yeah, when i was younger, maybe fifteen? Didn't know she kept it on her, i never saw it on her spear”  

Telemachus hummed in response, stepping backwards, and aiming for a slash at Odysseus’s chest, again he blocked it.  

“what was your childhood like?”  

The words left Odysseus’s lips easily, he was slipping back into familiar patterns, ones where he’d use conversation as a distraction, he moved forwards and thrusted his sword forwards, a loud clang an indicator of it being blocked.  

“eh, a lot of it was spent around the suitors, when i was eight they arrived, they were nice enough at first”  

Another clang filled the air, but Odysseus found himself more interested in Telemachus’s story, rather than the fight.  

“but then they must’ve realised that they weren’t getting anywhere by being nice to me, so they just. Stopped.”  

Another slash and they were close, face to face, at the edge of cliff, and Telemachus stepped backwards.  

Odysseus dropped his sword quicker than he though he could, hands moving quickly to try and grasp at Telemachus as he plummeted backwards, his hands found themselves clutched around Telemachus’s sword, fingers digging into the blade as it slid down with Telemachus.  

A splash, a scream.  

And then Odysseus’s worst nightmare, silence.  

Chapter Text

The silence didn’t last long, loud splashes, angry and cruel filled his ears, his feet moved quicker than he thought possible, if Hermes were to see him he’d have made some stupid joke about Odysseus being faster than him.  

His stomach churned as his sandals crunched against the sand, the water’s foam lapping at his feet, cold, cruel.   

Infront of him, a God larger than life, one who’s appearance shifted and waned, hard to truly get a glimpse of, made of crashing waves, and rolling sea foam. Poseidon.  

Below the Gods hand was his son, one of his eyes squeezed shut, waves lapping over him, blood mixing with the water, turning both it, and streaks of Poseidon himself, a faint red, a colour that washed quickly from the Gods appearance, but not from the water.  

“Let him go.”  

The words rolled from his tongue quickly, and the gods gaze turned to meet his, he couldn’t help but stare at the dried flakes of ichor that clung across the gods face, the bandages wrapped tight around his arms, and chest, evidence. He'd beaten Poseidon before, surely he could do it again.  

“and why should i do that? You have no way to hurt me again Odysseus, i chose not to bring any godly weapons, except for myself of course”  

He frowned, staring back at his son, his very reason for existence, he’d worked so hard to get back to Ithica for him, for Penelope, he’d struggled through everything that Poseidon had thrown at him, and still the god had ways to get the better of him.  

It wasn’t fair.  

“i...what do you want from me, I'll do anything”  

He felt disgusted with himself, begging the very god who he’d prior torn to shreds, but if it would work, if he could save his son, then it would be worth it, everything would be worth it.  

“nothing. I want nothing from you, my very goal has been thwarted. I’m only here to fufill a promise.”  

For a moment, though only a moment, Odysseus was confused, and then it snapped back to him, that awful threat, he’d messed up, had he only chosen to die, had he chosen to hurt Poseidon more, blind him more? If only he had made any other choice, Telemachus wouldn’t be here.  

His feet moved fast, sand kicking up behind him, the uneven surface not daring to slow him down, perhaps Gaia was on his side today, the water rushed above his knees as he ran, the ocean pushing against him, trying to force him away from his son.  

“what are you doing”  

The words boomed in his ears, Poseidon was angry, when was he not?  

He knelt down, beside his son, hands grasping his shoulders tightly, heels kicking against the ground, rocks pulling and digging into his feet, blood streamed into the water like ribbons as Poseidon's claws dug through his sons body.  

Water slammed into his chest, the water pushed him down, head slamming against rocks, a sharp ringing the only sound he heard, his vision blurred as he stared at the sky slowly disappearing, surely the water had not been this deep, had he gone further into the ocean than he’d thought?  

The world seemed to black, if only for a moment, his eyes pried open as salt water attacked them, a violent pain hung in his head, he kicked himself forwards, head breaking the water, gasping for air as he scanned his surroundings.  

Poseidon had a finger poised at Telemachus’s other eye. He practically threw himself forwards, hands grasping at his son, grabbing his tightly and dragging him from Poseidons grasp.  

Claws reached out for them as he ran, digging through his chiton easily, as if the fabric were sand, he could feel blood warming his back as he ran, his feet sunk into the sand as he pushed forwards.  

His vision was failing him, Telemachus was starting to feel heavy in his arms, he was slowing, the world felt far from him, and yet he could see the garden so clearly in his vision.  

He wouldn’t make it, that was a fact he knew well, but if he let himself fall, let himself lose consciousness, both he and his son would die. So with what little energy he had left, he screamed for the only person he could think of.  

Hermes.  

Chapter Text

He drew a sharp, heavy breath. He wasn’t dead on sand, that was a good thing. He was lying down on a bed, a rather cushy one at that, the room he was in had roughly three beds, each with a table next to them, only the closest harboured anything reminiscent of medical equipment.  

A bottle, one with a drop or two of a golden liquid, one with a name he couldn’t quite remember, a plant, with closed white leaves, missing its roots, moly. And bandages, so many rolls of bandages, some bloodied.  

He sat up, lying down would do him no good, he had not a clue where he was, and he couldn’t find Telemachus, the room did have a door, so he assumed he must have been some room in his palace, that or someone in Ithica had a very large house.  

He stood up, falling over almost immediately, his legs shook as he tried his best to get himself back up, his back ached, and he could have sworn he heard tearing as he stood. He limped himself forwards towards the door, legs dragging as he struggled to even move.  

The doorknob was cold, as if it hadn’t been touched in hours, he pushed open the door, eyes being met with the familiar halls of his castle. The stone was cold underneath his feet, and the distinct realisation his sandals had been destroyed dawned on him.  

Looking down at his chiton he winced, it was covered in his own blood, though at least it indicated he mustn't have been asleep for long, it was torn from the back, though he hadn’t needed to look at it to tell, he didn’t think he’d forget the feeling of his back being torn open as he ran for his life.  

The only part of his outfit that was not horrifically damaged was the arm guard Hermes had gifted him, no quite the opposite, it seemed almost to shine, as if taking perverse pleasure in just how close to death Odysseus had come.  

He didn’t miss the feeling of cold blood gushing down his back, he must have torn stitches, though that hardly mattered to him, he had a son to find.  

“Darling what in my name are you doing here! Gosh you’ve torn your stiches, okay just, come with me I'll fix it right up!”  

He was spun around, made to meet the gaze of an uncharacteristically worried God, the wings that sat upon Hermes’s head fluttered, as if stressed, he found himself being dragged forwards, though the God walked at a slow place, far slower than he’d ever seen the God go.  

His feet met that of blood that stained the floor, and his eyes instinctively drew to it, it didn’t look wrong perse, still red as day, and as sticky as any blood should be, but it was flicked with gold, as if mixed with the blood of an immortal.  

His stomach turned and he forced his eyes away from it, he couldn’t stand to think about what that could bode for him.  

“Hermes, where is Telemachus?”  

The words left his mouth faster than he could think them, though by the way the God stopped for a brief second, before dragging him along faster, his feet hovering lightly above the floor, he couldn’t assume it to be any good, what had happened. Was his son even alive?  

“Darling. He's fine, you clearly are not, he was let out two days ago. I'll bring him over later, once we take care of this”  

The God's voice was strained, though Odysseus could hardly care for that. Two days ago, the boy had lost an eye and he’d only been under medical care for what, two days? He hadn’t a chance to speak before the God ushered him down on the bed he’d woken up on, flittering back behind him and grabbing a needle and thread.  

“this will hurt.”  

Those three words were his only warning, before the needle pierced through his skin, he could hardly hold a scream, though the moment it threaded through his skin again said scream ripped from his lips, tears spilled down his cheeks, he felt awful, like a child, he’d faced so much worse and yet he was crying at some stitches.  

He could hardly hear the poor attempts at comfort from Hermes, focused too terribly on the pain, the needle that refused to be painless, the way it tore through sensitive skin, skin that had only just seconds ago been forced to be shut.  

Finally, after what felt like hours, the string was snipped. Hermes floated back around to face Odysseus, his face contorted into an expression of worry, or pity. He couldn’t tell, he didn’t have the energy for contemplation on it either.  

“i’m sorry, Ody i really am, but i don’t want you bleeding out”  

He swallowed, staring back up at Hermes, when had he averted his gaze? He knew what was happening, it had happened many times on Calypso’s island, where she’d whispered sweet nothings to his ears, words he’d tuned out, where she’d promised a life of paradise to him, one he’d always pushed away so vehemently.  

“Hermes, whats wrong with my blood?”  

He had to know, perhaps the answer would bring his mind back to focus, would convince it that he wasn’t in danger, it was just Hermes, they were related for heavens sake, he wouldn’t be hurt.  

Hermes’s eyes flicked away from him, as if he’d decided the door was suddenly very interesting, finally after minutes of silence Odysseus’s question was answered.  

“i gave you Nectar.”  

It seemed as if his heart had stopped, nectar, the drink of the gods, something that made any mortal that got their tongue on it Immortal, his stomach twisted and turned, and bile rose in his throat as if trying to expel it, though he knew it would have been far too late to try.  

“why would you do that”  

His voice shook and tears threatened to spill down his cheeks, to stain them further, Hermes had stopped floating midair, his sandals touching the cold floor, amber eyes trained on Odysseus’s.  

“you would have died Odyssues.i waited, three days for you to wake up, you just wouldn’t, i went to Hypnos, he couldn’t get you to wake up, dreams are his entire domain and you were just...gone.”  

He took in a deep breath, trying to calm the raging fire in his chest, he had to understand, he had to try at least, he didn’t understand why, couldn’t understand, for what reason, what purpose would Hermes keep him alive.  

Nothing was making sense.  

“why do you care so much! What purpose do you have to keep me here?”  

If he wasn’t a smarter man, he would have said Hermes was hurt by that, his eyes seemed wet with golden tears that hid in his amber eyes, but he knew it was a lie, Hermes was a god, he couldn’t care about him.  

“you are my great grandson. I may not have been around for your entire life, but i care for you, Odysseus look at me.”  

And he looked Hermes in his eyes, the god had tears of golden on his cheeks, hitting the stone floors.  

“i’m sorry i gave you the nectar, i didn’t want to betray your trust, but i didn’t...i didn't want you dead.”  

Chapter Text

He was alone, Hermes had left in an explosion of sparks all of varying colours, as pompous and extreme as Hermes himself, only golden drops on the floor evidence of his being.  

Odysseus didn’t know how long he’d sat there, staring at the floor, hands shaking as his mind raced. Two days, he’d only been under for two days, and yet Hermes decided to curse him with immortality, to tear him from meeting Polites, to tear him from apologising to the six hundred men he’d let die.

The door creaked open. And in strolled Athena, as if she owned the place, she sat down near him, though she had not begun worriedly chattering as Hermes had, the golden stains barely visible on her cheeks told him all he needed.  

“Odysseus. You're awake.”  

He took in a deep breath, what was he to say? What was he to ask? He was mad, hells he was scared, he didn’t know if he could trust Hermes anymore, the God had gone so horribly against his wishes, it had only been two days, and Hermes had run out of patience.  

“Hermes already told you, didn’t he? I told him to leave it to me”  

Her voice sounded almost annoyed, and he was sure that if he glanced at her he’d figure out if she was or not, but the idea of moving his head was too much for him, he was hardly even awake, his head hurt. His back hurt. He felt like he was dying but he knew he couldn’t.  

“did he tell you how long you were out?”  

Another question, this one was real, she wanted an answer, and he’d provide, disobeying the gods had grave consequences Afterall. He shook his head, the action proving only to lead him to more pain.  

“oh. You were out for two weeks, on the third day Hermes gave you the nectar. You humans are so frail, you can’t handle a couple days without water, its no wonder you die all the time”  

He stared at her, he didn’t mean to, he wasn’t really even looking at her, moreso through her. Two weeks. Two weeks of nothingness, they’d passed so quick in his mind it was as if they’d only been that of an hour, he’d not even dreamed.  

A part of him wasn’t as angry at Hermes, he would have died wouldn’t he, but to force Odysseus to live forever, the thought alone made his stomach churn.  

“why did you let him? I don’t want to be immortal, i didn’t even get a choice”  

A silence sat on the room, only broken by a long sigh taken in by Athena, before she spoke once more.  

“i...i didn’t want you to die, Penelope didn’t want to either, we asked her, she said it was the best option for you. So we went through with it. I...i couldn’t do it myself, Hermes didn’t want to either, but he’s always been brave, braver than me at the least"

He hummed, the idea that Athena was okay with it, was okay with him being forced to live forever, it was disgusting, they’d hardly been friends and yet she already seemed so ready to ruin their carefully taped together friendship.

A part of him wanted to scream, to yell, to demand them to take it back, but he knew they couldn’t, he knew what Polites would have said to him ‘ greet the world with open arms’ some good that did him.  

“i’m...will there be any side effects?”  

It was best to know, best to be prepared, he could make a better plan that way, could be better prepared for the future.  

“most of the time no. We haven’t seen anything of that sort before, however given your relation to Hermes you could...adopt some of his traits. Small things, like talons, maybe ankle wings”  

His breath hitched, he’d have to take them off whenever they arrived, if they arrived that was. Would he rule his kingdom forever? Would it fall and crumble while he watched powerlessly.  

“please do not be mad at him. He didn’t have a choice. I would have given it to you by force if he did not, and if i couldn’t we would have got someone else to do it. Penelope begged us to save you. I could not simply watch you die and neither could she, she was crying at my feet Odysseus. i know you would have done the same for her"

It felt like everyone was against him, everything that his life hinged on was being destroyed, he was going to be immortal trapped on an earth that would crumble underneath his feet, never to let him die. He'd drift in space once the earth had burnt.  

And he’d stay alive.  

“i’m sorry Odysseus, but be easy on him. He was scared, he still is i do think. He spent the entire time at your bedside, that or looking after telemachus”  

He took in a shaky breath, speaking in a hoarse voice, one rough with screaming and crying.  

“is Telemachus okay?”  

Athena simply nodded, her eyes drifted aside, to the window, as if the olive trees were anything interesting.  

“you’ll be bedbound until the stitches have healed. You will see quite a bit of Hermes during that time, call for me if you wish for a change of scenery”  

And with that, a feather fell to the bed as she changed her form, turning to an owl and flying off through the doorway left open.  

Chapter Text

He couldn’t care to listen to the seemingly endless yabbering of the god next to him, his head ached and throbbed as if something was trying to force its way out, the room went peacefully silent and for a moment he was sure that something had gone wrong.  

Turning his head to the side, which only proved to make the pain worse, he found no Hermes, but a small wooden tortoise and a letter, his eyebrows furrowed and he placed the tortoise on the nightstand, not bothering to open the letter, knowing it would only be more empty apologies.  

He lay his head down on the pillow, staring up at the painfully bland ceiling, time seemed to march slowly, the pain in his head only slowing to show that his ankles too hurt, a part of him wanted to pry open his chest, to see if his heart still beat, if he stopped it from doing so would he die?  

Or would his body rot without his mind?  

The thought process only stopped for his mind no longer was left alone, the wooden door creaked open, revealing a face he’d hardly recognised as his sons, the boys hair was gone on one side and bandages wrapped around half his face, stopping only above his mouth so he could move it.  

His eye no longer held the spark that it had only three weeks ago, and if Odysseus squinted he was sure he’d see grey lining the boys thick russet hair, his stomach churned with guilt, had he been quicker, had he not fallen and hit his head, had he any weapon, he’d have saved his son the pain.  

“son”  

His eyes felt heavy with tears that he was sure would be mixed with golden flecks, much the same as his blood was, the thought alone seemed to make his head throb in sync with the disgust that swam in his stomach like a leech.  

“father. I'm...i’m so sorry, i didn’t mean for you to get hurt, or to fall, and now your hurt and its my fault”  

He sighed, sitting himself up and pushing himself out of the bed that had been his prison for the last week, his legs still insisted on being weak, though he’d been doing nightly and daily walks, ones that could last for hours if the messenger god hadn’t been at his side almost 24/7.  

“son. You are not the reason i got hurt, i should have been paying attention to how close to the ledge we were, i should have been faster when saving you, but most of all, i shouldn’t have pissed off Poseidon in the first place”  

He found himself thrown backwards by his son, his arms wrapping around his body, ensnaring him in a tight hug, one Odysseus was eager to return, though his legs seemed far against the idea, they threatened to buckle under him, so much to his sorrow he forced Telemachus off him, so he could sit.  

“father, what did Poseidon mean when he said he was fulfilling a promise?”  

He didn’t miss the way his sons voice shook, the way his eyebrow furrowed, as if in pain only by speaking, the odd strain and pull of the muscles in his sons face, as if they were torn, he didn’t want to think on it long, to know his son had been hurt for his own folly.  

“he...when i was trying to get here, he said he’d find you and...well, i'm sure you can see whats happened to your eye. he promised that i...didn't believe him, or maybe i just thought i was better than him"

He found himself trying to soften the blow, as if the idea itself was in any way able to be softened, as if his son wasn’t a fully grown man, and yet he couldn’t help himself, a part of him knew it wasn’t to protect his son, but to protect himself.  

“i didn't listen. maybe i didn't want to. i was a fool"

His voice almost caught in his throat, tears almost fell down his cheeks, and from the way Telemachus was staring at him, as if pitying him, it only proved to make it worse, to make the fear and disgust at himself spin faster, like a loom trying to create the perfect fabric, uncaring for the wools pain.  

“oh.”  

It was all the response he got, as if Telemachus had expected something grander, and by the way Athena and Penelope spoke of him, he supposed he mustn't have been far off the mark, he seemed a dreamer, much the way Odysseus used to be, before those awful twenty years.  

He stared back at his son, the one who he’d not held in all his life, and a deep frown threatened to set in his face, instead he shuffled to the side, patting the spot next him, an offer, one Telemachus took.  

They sat for only a few seconds before Odysseus made the decision to hug him with one arm, the way Athena once had when his first dog had died, an awkward comfort, though one Telemachus seemed to need, as they sat there only a moment before the child began to cry, shifting around to bury his face in Odysseus chest, to which he simply held him tighter.  

“i’m sorry Telemachus, i won’t leave you ever again, i promise”  

It was one he knew he could keep now, he’d have forever to live, and to touch the ocean would be a fools errand.  

Chapter Text

He was laying next to his wife, and though he knew he should have been happy, asleep with dreams of flower fields, not of men dead on battle fields that never happened. And yet here he was, laying awake with a throbbing migraine and aching heels, staring at the ceiling.  

He tried to turn onto his side, to face his wife, as if it would help him in any way, his head screamed in pain the moment it was set on its side, and he rolled over onto his back sharply, eyes shut tight in response.  

He took in a breath of the cold night air, sitting up sharply, he couldn’t do this, couldn’t take this awful, repeated spit of pain and sleepless nights, he’d not slept comfortably in the four weeks he’d been home, and he was growing sick of it.  

Standing up with shaking legs he began making his way out of the house, kneeling by the closest river to wash his hands, eyes shut as his ankles throbbed in response to rocks and sand brushing against their skin.  

Finally he stood back up, walking outside to the garden, where deep in the earth sat a shrine, one he’d not used in twenty years, he could remember the last time he’d prayed at it, he’d poured wine down on the dirt and prayed for the save arrival of any of his dead crew.  

His stomach churned at the very idea of them, as if their memories were tainted by the fates that had befallen them.  

“hear me Hypnos, bringer of dreams or whatever name suits you best, I’ve found myself unable to sleep, and should I, I find my dreams wracked with those dead, turning any chance of peaceful sleep into nightmares, i ask of you Hypnos, bring me a night of peaceful sleep”  

Before he could even finish, a loud audible yawn span in the air, shooting his head up to look at the intruder he found not a human, but a God. He was short, though annoyingly still taller than Odysseus.  

He had wings upon his temples, much like Hermes, and carefully arranged hair as if he spent time meticulously organising it in the mirror, though the idea was quite absurd, given his domains.  

“Hypnos?”  

The name left his lips before he could think on how foolish it was to talk to a god he didn’t know, perhaps his thoughts had been clouded by just how awful his last encounters with Gods had been, how utterly ruthless their behaviors had been.  

“yup, you are an interesting one Odysseus, everytime i give you a good dream, and believe me i do try, you somehow find a way to spin it into a nightmare”  

He stared at the God, it was absurd really, the idea that any of his nightmares could have started as dreams, the God must’ve been mocking him, or lying, though he knew to think so lowly of a divine being was a grand way to find himself giving a coin to Charon.  

“if i am so bold to ask, but what do you mean you’ve given me good dreams? Every dream I've had, should i have been lucky to even have one, has been nothing but nightmares”  

The God didn’t look insulted, perhaps he was saving his wrath for later, when Odysseus would be struck down for his folly, the idea itself wasn’t awful, though he knew he wouldn’t die here, no matter what the God tried.  

“i give you your dreams, i try to control them, give you things that will make you happy, but the thing is, you humans have brains, and they love trying to control my domain, so if your mind is plagued like yours is, i can’t do much.”  

“can’t? Or won’t?”  

The moment the words left his lips he felt dread settle onto his form, he’d spoken back to a God, one he’d never seen before, one who had control over his dreams, and here he was making a fool of himself.  

“can’t”  

He stared back up at Hypnos, the Gods Grey eyes meeting his, he was still here, not dead in a coma, his memories were all still there, and Hypnos didn’t even seem insulted, a part of him wanted to test it, wanted to see how far he could push him.   

“i’m not mad. Too tired to be mad, as for your other wish, yeah, I'll try and get to you and grant you some sleep. Worst case scenario i help you forget some things so you can sleep peacefully”  

He stared at Hypnos, only just realising he was still kneeling down on the dirt, as if kneeling at the Gods feet, perhaps that was why he wasn’t mad, he was still seeing the mortal who’d dared to speak back, as grovelling.  

“i...thank you, Lord Hypnos”  

The god laughed, a tired one that lasted hardly a second, yet it sounded quite similar to Hermes’s laugh, just less obnoxious.  

“no worries”  

And with that, the God left, and he was alone again. He was beginning to wonder just why all the Gods he met seemed to love disappearing so dramatically, sighing he stood up, his knees aching with the movement.  

He washed his hands once more in the river, before returning to his bed, mind oddly tired, he didn’t care to get under the covers, instead he just lay atop them, eyes shutting as sleep finally met him.  

Chapter Text

He didn’t dream, perhaps Hypnos had been kind to him, had spared him the trouble of seeing his friends faces again, he’d not woken before sunrise either, the sky was not dark, and Helios’s chariot was well on its way to the peak of its journey.  

He rolled himself off the bed, eyes drawing to his armguard, he hadn’t taken it off at all, he’d managed to sleep in it multiple times and yet it never hurt, he supposed how comforting it managed to be was due to its status as an item of a god.  

He fiddled with the thick string that tied it to his arm, he placed it down on the bed, trying to ignore how it seemed audibly whine, though he knew it not possible, perhaps, though he’d gotten sleep tonight, his overall lack of it, was catching up to him.  

Walking to the kitchen, he found Penelope, her hair down, grey streaks more visible in her hair, he eyed the bench on which she was working, fruits of all kind laid on the bench, some cut and placed on a clay plate, of which she was snacking on as she prepared barely bread and wheat.  

He was still up in time for Akratisma, he’d have been worried if he wasn’t, if Helios’s chariot was in the middle of the sky, preparing to fall down as Selene’s raced after him.  

“hello”  

Penelope turned around sharply, hand holding a piece of barely as if it were a weapon, eyes wide, as if she hadn’t recognised who was speaking, the moment their eyes met hers softened and she laughed, a sound he relished, and one he wished he’d had the chance to hear earlier.  

“you scared me Ody, honestly how much you slept today scared me a bit”  

He chuckled, walking over to her, grabbing a grape out of her hands and eating it, a shit eating grin on his face as he did so, she feigned annoyance though the way her eyes sparkled and the slight tilt of her lips showed she wasn’t truly annoyed.  

“what, am i not allowed to get good sleep?”  

She rolled her eyes, finger nails digging into the barely bread and pulling chunks out of it, throwing a larger chunk at his face, it hit his face lightly, he caught it before it could fall to the floor, tossing it back at her.  

“you have a kingdom to run Odysseus, no you are not allowed to sleep in”  

She feigned a stern voice, one that his father would have used to chastise him, one he had heard many a time when he was just a little boy, before his fathers paranoia set in, before he’d become convinced that the gods were out to get him.  

“how has running the kingdom been for you Pen? I don’t think I've asked”  

Penelope shrugged, taking a bite out of the Barely bread and stared out the window as she ate, he picked at his nails, they weren’t as brittle anymore, and he didn’t know if he could attribute that to the newfound immortality, or to the fact he wasn’t at sea, starving.  

“Ithaca has been...fine. I've made a few changes to how we source meat, uh mainly I'm just lowering hunting during winter, trying to get people not to hunt boars and all that, dangerous things, we had a good few losses recently.”  

He hummed in response, his head hurt, it was an annoying pain, one that made it hard to hear Penelope, to listen to her, it felt like something was pushing against the skin. But it wasn’t he knew that, it was just anxiety, probably some result of that concussion he’d received.  

“my father actually offered to run Ithaca after the five year mark”  

He laughed at that, bringing his eyes back up to hers, green and lovely, he remembered the first time he’d seen them, when he was in Sparta an unwilling suitor for Helen, it'd been early morning and he'd been admiring her from afar, through the bushes, she'd noticed him immediately and asked him to come over, he'd really thought he'd blown his chances, but she'd been so nice to him, maybe it helped that he wasn't after Helen.

He blinked, back to reality, away from the memories he’d have preferred to stay in, he was sure she was speaking, he could, of course hear it, but his head wouldn’t stop throbbing, and the overwhelming feeling of something pulsing in his temples wouldn’t go away, something was wrong, and he needed to leave. now.

“i’ll be right back Penny, grab Telemachus for me would you?”  

She smiled at him, though her eyes were clouded with unspoken worries, he moved as quickly as he could, rushing into their bedroom and slamming shut the door behind him.  

Chapter Text

Something pulsed under his flesh, begging to be let out, his skin stretched and pulled, trying to keep it in, and then his skin tore, blood, buckets of it, streamed down his temples, pain of such an awful degree that any screams he could have proclaimed were ripped from his throat.  

Thick muscles and tendons stretched and pulled as fresh bones that had been marinating under the surface were made evident, hidden under muscles that stretched wide, and bloody feathers coated with their own viscera that shone under the light of Helios’s chariot.  

His pain would not end there, his ankles pulsed, and had he looked down at them he would seen wing like shapes moving and stretching at the skin.  

He couldn’t endure the feeling of it, couldn’t endure the anticipation, so with little hesitation he grabbed the dagger that hung on his hip, pointing the blades tip at his heels, with less than a deep breath to prepare, he dug the knife down into skin.  

Before he could even pull the knife down, or out of his heel, a wing forced its way out of the flesh, freed like a snakelet without an egg tooth, he could hardly look at it before he moved to his other ankle.  

The blood that stained the hard wooden floors was chunky, filled with feathers that had never been connected to the new appendages, ones that still poked out of his heels, padding where padding wasn’t necessary.  

He moved the dagger to his temple, the knife sliding up against the thin skin of the wing, it was now or never, if he chose to let them sit and fester they’d grow stronger, bones would solidify and become hard, feathers would grow, he’d become a freak of nature for the rest of eternity.  

He slid the knife down through the skin, tears brimming in his eyes and pooling onto the floor, mixing with the blood that had began to travel its way out from under the door, the first wing came off quick and easy, falling to the ground with a prominent thud.  

He changed the blade into his other hand, pushing the blade deep into his skin, cutting through weak muscles that pulsed and moved, trying to force the blade out of them, it too thudded to the ground, meeting its twins fate.  

The door creaked open behind him, the voice he wished he’d never heard, a voice that stopped halfway through its sentence, footsteps rushed to his side, and his eyes fell upon that of golden sandals.  

“fuck, goddammit, what are you doing! Do you know just how much blood you’ve lost, just because your immortal does not mean you are invulnerable”  

Hands met his shoulders, and he was forced to his feet, ones that had bloody wings that flapped in protest, his eyes refused to leave the two wings that sat on the ground, maybe it was the shock that kept him so cold, so frozen, but it felt like he couldn’t move.  

“what even was going on in your mind when you did this! Do you seriously hate being related to me that much!”  

He finally, finally dragged his eyes up to meet Hermes’s, they were gold and worried and anger brimmed in his chest, thoughts and words he thought he’d take to a grave that would never came spilled out of his lips.  

“do you think i wanted to be related to you? That i liked being immortal! I never wanted this, and yet your just like your father, you don’t care about others, you don’t care for what they want!”  

Hermes's eyes narrowed, his wings fluttering and the feathers on them fluffing up as they stretched out.  

“you forget i am a god. You forget your place. You may no longer be able to die but that does not mean i cannot deal you reasonable pain.”  

He stared at Hermes, feet moving backwards, his bloodied, wrecked hands met that of the covers on the bed he’d made by hand, staining them with memories he’d regret for the rest of his life, ones he’d beg to forget.  

“you already have, you didn’t even care to think about what i wanted, what if i wanted to die Hermes! What then!”  

His voice rose and the room fell to silence as he finally stopped screaming, no birds dared cry at him, and Hermes didn’t move, it was eerie seeing him so silent, so still.  

“hold your tongue. Remember i can always get you sent back to Ogygia”  

The moment Hermes spoke the words he looked horrified, stepping forwards, mouth moving in apologies that were deaf to Odysseus’s mind, his heart was beating both too fast and too slow, his lungs refused in any oxygen, his vision was darkening and for a moment he wondered if Hermes had lied about the nectar.  

And then hands pushed him down onto the bed, he stared back at Hermes who was grabbing rolls of Bandages from nowhere, the thick fabrics were wrapped around his head, where the wings had once sat proud.  

Finally the silence was broken, though this time Hermes was quiet, and still.  

“i wouldn’t send you back to Calypso. I’m sorry i said that, i just...i can’t believe you’d do this to yourself, maybe to you its nothing but it hurts so much that you’d hate me enough to mutilate yourself”  

He stared at Hermes the air growing stale, it seemed that not even Aeolus would let her winds into the room, it almost felt like time was standing still just for the two of them.  

“i...don’t. I'm mad and i don’t understand why you chose to give me nectar, like there were no other choices, when there were”  

Hermes stopped him.  

“there weren’t. You were dead Odysseus, i had to shove your soul back in your body, and force nectar down your throat, and i didn’t even have the idea of it, Penelope asked me about it and i...i asked Athena.  

She's my big sister, and the Godess of wisdom, i trusted that it was an okay thing because she said it was, and I'm not blaming her, but please, don’t just blame me”  

He stared at Hermes a tired sigh leaving his lips, he had no energy to argue with an old friend, and certainly not one who’d helped him so much.  

“i don’t forgive you Hermes, because forgiving you would be pointless, I'm mad and I'm scared, but it does nothing to hate you. Just...don’t ever do that to anyone ever again, please.”  

Hermes floated down by Odysseus’s side, his form fuzzy as he moved.  

“okay darling. Also you’re probably going to faint, I'll clean up the room and how about we just don’t bring this up to Penelope or Telemachus, i think they’ve had enough of you getting injured for a lifetime”  

He laughed, a dumb grin on his face as he flopped backwards onto the bed, staring down at Hermes who was anxiously approaching the lopped off wings that sat in a pool of their own blood.  

“yeah, i think they have.”  

Chapter Text

He was awoken not by Hermes, but a door slamming open, wood hitting harsh against the wall, he sat up sharply, his head screaming as he did so, his vision bobbing as he moved, as if his eyes couldn’t keep up with his movements.  

Penelope stood in the doorway, her hair was messy, strung over her eyes, tied loosely and slung over her shoulder, her eyes had eyebags so deeply set that it seemed she mustn't have slept for days, and yet he knew that to be impossible, for he’d only cut off his wings today.  

“Odysseus. What is wrong with you.”  

Her voice was harsh and the use of his full name made his eyes widen, he’d made a mistake clearly, his eyes darted around the room, searching for Hermes, and yet he found no-one but him.  

Blood still stained the sheets where he’d panicked, he brought his eyes to her form again, behind her, if he squinted, he could make out the form of Hermes and Athena talking hushedly, it was odd to see Hermes so still, so worried.  

Another detail he’d somehow managed to miss, was that Athena like her half-brother, had wings, small ones that sat over her ears, only really visible because her hair was tied back, one of her hands was resting on one, as if making sure it was still there.  

“do you even know how long you’ve been in here! You disappeared out of nowhere this morning, Selene's chariot is in the middle of the sky, Odysseus. You missed an entire day, for what?”  

He frowned, a hand going to his temple, the bandages were gone and if he ran his fingers over the light stubs that had once held his wings he could feel stitches, prominent, recent. Blood still crusted around them, matted through his hair.  

“i...”  

How was he to explain this, what was he to say? He'd made a promise to Hermes that they wouldn’t speak about this, he didn’t know if there were exceptions to the rule, and he didn’t want to piss off another god, certainly not one he’d grown to appreciate.  

“well?”  

She was growing impatient, his eyes darted to Hermes, as if looking for guidance, but the god wasn’t looking at him, engulphed in his conversation with Athena, he moved his hand from the splatter of blood he’d been hiding.  

Penelopes eyes widened.  

“i’m...i don’t think i can explain it Pen”  

He swung his legs up to his chest, crossing them as if to hide the wings that fluttered angrily, pressed against the covers of the bed, aching as muscles that had never once existed stretched.  

“you have changed Odysseus. You have been ignoring me and your son in favour of that god. You have been hiding and sneaking around, you have been hurt. You nearly died. I can hardly recognise you”  

He frowned, hands balling into fists, he couldn’t deny it, he’d been ignoring Penelope yes, but in favour of Hermes? No. The god showed up at random, he’d gotten no choice in it, yet he never balanced it out, he’d hardly even spoken with Telemachus.  

“ I'm scared okay, what if you get ripped away from me again? I’ve been trying Pen i really have. I'm just...not the same man as i was twenty years ago”  

Her eyes softened and she sat down next to him, hand over his, though she looked at him he couldn’t bring himself to make eye contact with her, not now.  

“i know. your scared, i am too. But you have to learn to trust again, lets start with something simple, you’ve got wings on your ankles now, how’d that happen?”  

He dragged his hand out from under hers, he glanced back at Hermes, no guidance for him it seemed. Finally he made his decision, if he had to choose between himself and Penelope, he’d always choose Penelope, in all timelines, in every possibility.  

“i’m...related to Hermes, i don’t get quite why but because of the nectar thing, I've got wings now”  

She sighed, a tired smile on her face, she believed him, she believed a sentence that sounded like the most outlandish lie, was the truth. And why wouldn’t she? The anxiety that had clawed at his chest calmed, settled down, if only enough to meet his gaze.  

“okay. Is that why you ran off out of nowhere?”  

Her eyes drifted to his head, staring at the bloody matted hair that hung over his eyes, she hadn’t mentioned it yet, and for that he was grateful.  

“yes.”  

She stood, moving towards the door, and holding it, slowly she shut it, turning to him as she spoke.  

“I'm going to go tell Telemachus you're okay, you scared him. Badly"  

Had he even seen his sons face? It'd been too long since he had, his horror and guilt refused to leave his sickened stomach when he gazed upon the bandages that wrapped around Telemachus, he wondered if the boy had them removed yet? Was his eye still there or was it just a gaping wound?  

He stood up, walking out of the room, moving sharply away from Penelope, a walk would do him good. A walk would clear his mind.  

The stone floors of the castle turned to sand covered grass, he sat down on the ground, knees hitting the dirt harshly, the waters lapped aggressively at the rocks below him, if he fell would he die?  

Would he die if he hit a rock, impaled through the heart? Would he become a shambling mindless corpse? Would he simply get up? Would he learn to faze out pain as his heart refused to slow, as his mind whittled away?  

When Penelope and Telemachus died where would he go? Would he hide away, would he eternally rule a kingdom never to die? When the world ended, when Gaia claimed the earth once more, or when Helios ventured to close to the ground, would he die? Or would he be stranded in space, eternally surrounded by nothing but darkness?  

If he fell now would anyone even care?  

Chapter Text

The silence was broken not by his son or wife, but Hermes, he’d have preferred to have an awkward conversation with Athena, then deal with someone so energetic, right now all he wanted to do, was ponder. Sit and stare at the waves home to his greatest enemy.  

“hello darling! Heard your conversation with Penelope, now you’re out here, I'm thinking you could use a break!”  

He stared at Hermes, blinking slowly somehow, by some miracle the god was not mad at him for breaking a promise he’d made, instead he simply seemed himself, as over the top and exaggerated as usual.  

“what do you mean?”  

He wouldn’t trust Hermes so easily, he’d trusted Athena once, and look where that got him, to trust a god was to be abandoned by them. Still he couldn’t help but smile as the god slung himself around Odysseus’s shoulders, wings beating heavily in the air, as if Aolus was trying to knock him off balance.  

“well darling, i realised i haven’t done my job in probably a teeny bit too long, so i was wondering if you’d like to come along for a day!”  

He blinked, slowly. To go with Hermes on the Gods Job was an interesting idea, on the one hand he’d have bragging rights forever, literally, though those bragging rights really would give him nothing, and it’d be a nice distraction.  

On the second hand. This could be a trap. One elaborately designed so that Odysseus would fall into it. And yet what could Hermes do? Odysseus couldn’t be killed.  

“sure.”  

He didn’t miss how Hermes’s face lit up, a smile, hopefully a genuine one, spread across the gods face, he grabbed Odysseus arm and in a flash they were somewhere else, still sat on grass, but in front of them was a dead woman.  

He was coming with Hermes on his Psychopomp job apparently.  

A long sigh left his lips and the wings on his heels fluttered as wind rushed past them, he couldn’t see any ghosts or spirits, but based on the way Hermes was talking to the air, he presumed that he was doing his job.  

“alrightly darlings! To the underworld we go, now unfortunately young Antolia here didn’t get a coin to take to the underworld with her, so she won’t be able to get over the river styx without my help! Now i could convince Charon...maybe.”  

He blinked, staring at Hermes for a few seconds, before the scenery changed again, the air became cold and constrictive, the life sucked out of it, the ground harsh, the sand cold and gray, and a river, one he’d sailed across held a boat.  

atop it was a person, maybe. He wore a hat so large that it shadowed his face, though Odysseus could swear he saw two empty black sockets, skin stretched over white bone visible beneath it, he held a staff close to his chest, one so long he was sure it was used only to move through the fickle waters.  

Hermes seemed to feel no fear at it, he turned his gaze to the woman who’d appeared next to him, her eyes wide, long black hair hung loose over her eyes, and a large bite mark spanned the left side of her face. Wolves maybe, a bear would have mauled her more, or not at all.  

He returned his gaze to hermes, who was hover a bit above Charon, saying something though he couldn’t quite make out what, a golden coin was dropped into Charon's hand, and Hermes grabbed Odysseus’s hand again.  

“here’s a tip darlings, you can get anything if you pay for it! Now Charon has agreed to let Antolia through, and luckily i managed to convince him that you’re my son Odysseus, so you better play along!”  

He stared at Hermes blankly, he was sure that it hadn’t been necessary in any way shape or form, that had Hermes paid Charon more he wouldn’t have had to act like Hermes was his father, no he was rather sure that this was just Hermes looking for chaos.  

Still he joined Hermes and Antolia in Charon's boat, careful not to touch the river. He made no point to speak to Charon, knowing it’d do nothing for him, and frankly he didn’t really want to know the Psychopomp.  

He watched the land grow thinner and thinner, as souls of the dead clambered anxiously, trying to pull themselves onto the boat, each time their hands touched it they retracted them harshly, as if they were burnt.  

Briefly he wondered if he’d die if he touched that water, if he drank it would it erode him from the inside out? Would it work?  

Chapter Text

The boat came to a slow, and Antonia left the boat by herself, his eyes drew to a long line, one that the woman joined, Hermes hurried himself back up to Charon.  

“don’t bother stopping here darling, just take us to the house, we’ve got a message to send!”  

He doubted it, but it didn’t seem like the boatman cared, he stuck his staff into the water, using it like one would an Oar, the water giving little resistance to him, the dark air coiled around his body, and had he not been in public he’d have curled into a ball, if only to conserve the little heat in his body.  

His eyes were drawn down into the river styx, if he squinted he would see the souls of the damned, the six hundred men he’d let die calling his name in a silent harmony, he had to draw away his eyes and turn his gaze to Hermes again.  

The god had conjured a fluffy brown coat and wrapped it around his shoulders, laying his back against the edge of the boat, he wasn’t worried or scared at all, he knew why, after all this was Hermes’s home, in a way.  

He delivered souls down here, helped chauffer them into the long waiting lines, lines that he was sure would last a millennia as men older than any myths he’d read would bicker and argue, trying to judge whether one soul would go to Tartarus or asphodel.  

Whether their simple crimes, ones that anybody could commit, such as praying in such a hurry that they forgot the wash away the dirt and death that clung to their mortal bodies, one would argue that it was simply human fault, whilst another would cruelly and harshly yell that it was defiling of the gods, finally one would sit indifferent, only to care for the cruellest of men.  

He drew his gaze away from Hermes, and over to the land mass that had begun revealing itself through the thick mist that wrapped and coated the place, it was lonely and sad, with hardly a plant to decorate it.  

Atop it though, sat a house, one so thickly shrouded in mist that he could only make out its shape, and though they drew closer to it, the mist did not reveal a house with any details, no it seemed to hug the house tighter, the air stifling as the permeating smell of death began to grow stronger  

And then, the boat docked, Hermes stood up quickly, waving a hand with nails an unnatural colour, the coat disappearing from his form, he held a hand out to Odysseus, the grin on his face would be worrying if Odysseus didn’t know the god so well.  

He took his hand and stood up, his knees aching in response, and his vision bobbed as the pain from his prior self mutilation returned, though only for a second, he wasn’t exactly worried about the pain that span through his head, he knew that no matter what, he’d removed them, they wouldn’t be coming back, no matter how long he lived.  

Hermes stepped out of the boat with little care, a wing of his sandal brushing against the river styx, a light blue steam rolling off it as its gold was singed black, though with a single flutter the colour returned to it.  

“thank you Charon”  

The words were natural, to thank the man who helped you travel was if nothing else kind, and customary, at least in ithica. He’d been so far away from other humans that he couldn’t quite tell if other cities did that, it wasn’t like he’d ever been to Athens. And his stays in Sparta had been so short he’d never have found out.  

He noticed hermes had not yet let go of his hand so he took the initiative, holding his arms against his chest, crossed as if to protect his heart, though he knew its removal would most likely, do nothing to him.  

“alright darling, now I've got a message or two to give hades but! First we must speak to some friends, so you get the choice, who first? We’ve got Hypnos, Nyx uhhh Thanatos! Never forget Thanatos, Hecate if we’re lucky, queen Persephone but we’ll probably talk to her once we meet with Hades. Gosh i think that's everyone who lives in the house!”  

Odysseus stared at him, he recognised everyone who’d been talked about sure,  but the name Hypnos, it sprung out to him, he’d spoken to him earlier, he’d been nice enough, though he knew Odysseus wasn’t Hermes’s son, at least he’d hope that Hypnos knew.  

Nevertheless he was the safest option, for now at least.  

“uh, Hypnos”  

Hermes giggled, that awfully infuriating giggle, and grabbed Odysseus’s hand again, dragging him forward and through the large double doors, the ones with symbols and images that constantly shifted and changed, like an image trying to be reconstructed from memory alone.  

The air was warmer in the building than out, which he supposed make sense, if they had a fire, though with the house being made of what looked like wood (though to be fair he could never tell) it probably wasn’t the smartest decision.  

The halls turned a dull grey as Hypnos slowly came into view, he lay on a chaise lounge, his eyes were shut and he looked to be asleep, though the moment Odysseus and Hermes came close to him he startled awake, blinking his eyes blearily.  

“i’m up! Oh! Hermes and Odysseus, what are you doing here? Do you have a message for me or something?”  

He held Hermes’s hand tighter, eyes darting away from Hypnos’s  

“you know Odysseus already? Anyways not really here for any message, just a greeting given I'm here, oh yes hows Zagreus? Is he still trying to escape, oh! yes Odysseus we should meet him!”  

He blinked, Zagreus, an odd name, given he was sure he’d heard myths of the man dying to the Titans, or cyclopes’s, he’d heard myths of him becoming Dionysus, though he rather doubted that one, especially if Zagreus was here.  

Hypnos shrugged, eyes lazily dragging to the pool of red that sat near him, the red that stretched endlessly into the river styx, was it so red because of blood, though last he checked no god bled red.  

“may i ask, who is Zagreus?”  

Hypnos laughed, a shrill sound, one almost like an alarm, he could see why the two were friends, both of them had the most ear peircing, headache enducing laugh.  

“you really have not taught your friend here well, Zag is a god. Cthonic obviously, and yes to answer your question he’s still fighting. Persephone is here though. Maybe he just likes the fight”  

Hermes nodded, eyes drawing to the pool, as if expecting Zagreus to drag himself out of the red pool, instead a man of which Odysseus knew not appeared in front of it.  

Chapter Text

The man was tall, possibly taller than Hypnos, though he had no way to check that, given the god always slouched in on himself, the man wore a hooded cape, one that hid most of his face, save for the grey eyes, though not as calm as Hypnos’s, no this one’s eyes were almost like a storm, judgemental, cruel. Unforgiving.  

On his back was a scythe, one with an eye of yellow built into it, though the eye did not move nor blink, he supposed it would simply be for decoration. Hermes’s eyes lit up and he sped forwards, blocking Odysseus’s view of the man, and for once he was greatful for that.  

“thanatos! Gosh i haven’t seen you in so long darling, are you working with Ares again? Honestly i have no clue how you two get along at all, oh but thats beside me, not really my buisness, now I'm sure you’ve noticed this man right behind me, he’s still got a beating heart! And for once i am oh so glad that you are the god of peaceful death because I'm quite sure a lesser man would have him dead within seconds.  

Of course he can’t actually haha! He's my son, yup i know a shocker, yes i found out about him only recently so its a bit of a shock to me too”  

He didn’t miss how the Gods eyes narrowed, set on Odysseus, he suddenly felt the intense need to shrivel into himself and die. It felt like the god was suspicious of him, saw through the half assed lie that Hermes had crafted.  

“is that so? Who is your mother then, boy?”  

The gods voice was calm, each word chosen carefully, plucked from a pool of phrases lesser than the god, it held a certain gravel, as he hadn’t spoken in far too long, and Odysseus, not for the first time, found himself freezing up.  

Finally after what had felt like hours he pulled out a name, one he’d heard only in passing, still he hoped it good enough to maintain the lie.  

“Eumelia, sir. Of Ithaca”  

Right now he really hoped there was a Eumelia in Ithaca, though he highly doubted it, it seemed Thanatos too was unimpressed, for his eyebrows narrowed over his eyes, ones that glazed over if only for a second, before he spoke again.  

“there is no Eumelia of Ithaca here child. Do you mean your mother is still alive, with your age? That would be a wonder.”  

Thanatos’s eyes flicked down to Odysseus ankles, where the wings hugged themselves as tight to his legs, as if trying to meld back in, they were stained an ugly red, and dried clumps of blood still clung to them.  

Embarrassment clung to his chest like a moth to a light, he should have cleaned them, though he was sure even touching the things would make him feel like throwing up with the level of pain he would experience.  

“and those? How did your kingdom react, to a king with wings?”  

He could lie here, could say he’d always had them, that nobody noticed, that he bound them, something he knew he ought to do, but why lie when he had a perfectly good truth.  

“its a recent development. Nobody in Ithaca has seen, and i do not plan for them to”  

Thanatos frowned, as if Odysseus had lied, he supposed he had, quite a bit now. he’d forgotten the adrenaline rush of talking to an unfamiliar threat, he found himself on guard, so much so that his mind chose to rush him to fight, to look for a way to fight against a threat that was not there.  

And how would he even fight death? An inevitability for most.  

“Interesting. Hermes, why are you here? And why did you choose to bring your...associate with you? Any messages, or are you here to waste my time?”  

Though he shrunk in on himself simply by hearing those words it seemed Hermes cared not for how the other god thought of him.  

“well I'm not here for much really! Chose to bring ol Adamantios here with me! But i do have a message or two for Hades! Thought we’d say hi to a few friends on the way!”  

He almost frowned at the named that was not his, though he supposed it was fair, for he had lied so heartily to the death god, who was Hermes if not a liar? Not to mention had the god mentioned his actual name, surely Thanatos would know who he was, and that he’d lied.  

“right. Well i have a job to get to. I will see you another time Hermes.”  

And with that the room lit into a dulled green, and the god before him was gone.  

Chapter Text

Hermes grabbed his wrist, ducking away from Hypnos waving at the floating god, who simply yawned in response, he was dragged this time to a separate corner of the house, one that took far too long to get to, it was odd how slow Hermes seemed to go whenever he was leading Odysseus somewhere.  

In a corner next to a room with no doors was a woman, or more accurately, a god. She wore her hair up, or down, he couldn’t really tell, it folded outwards almost like wings, she wore a robe flowing and dark, enough that he could be convinced that should he have touched it, it would transport his arm somewhere unknown.  

Her eyes held the same grey that Hypnos and Thanatos’s did, no matter how long he looked in them he couldn’t make out what she was feeling. He was however able to take a jab at who she could have been. Nyx, night incarnate.  

“hi Nyx! Gosh we haven’t spoken in ages, I've not been down here much save for my job! How's the husband? Still an asshole? Good good, just what i expected, i heard you got Persephone to stay again, gosh that is just absolutely brilliant!”  

He was rather sure Hermes had upset Nyx, her eyes narrowed, though not by much, a sigh left her lips, and she spoke.  

“Yes Hermes, Hades is still himself. It is...nice to see you again, though i am curious, who is the new face?”  

Her eyes drifted down to the Wings upon his ankles, he felt the urge to take a step back, as he always did whenever a God looked at him, that urge to run wasn’t something new, he wanted to attribute it to Hermes, the Godly blood they shared, but he knew it was a foolish idea.  

“I'm Adamantios. Hermes’s son”  

The lie left his throat closing up, to lie to a God as powerful as her was such a foolish idea, the night itself could collapse around him, could make the moon fall from the sky, and if she found out the lie, well he had no clue how she’d react.  

“interesting, it is nice to meet you child. May i ask why you’ve chosen only now to show yourself to us?”  

He didn’t want to keep lying to her, he wanted to get out of here, the air was oppressive, death clung so heavy to everything, every step he had to avoid shades that meandered knowing not where they were going or where they came from.  

He was glad at least, for Hermes’s swift answer, a lie that rolled easy off his tongue.  

“well i didn’t really know about him! Not well at least! We've really only known each other for oh, six months?”  

She hummed in response, nodding her head as she stared at him, the wings that were her hair at the same time made him want only more to rip the wings out of his heels, he didn’t want to be seen as mocking her with them, and yet he knew he wasn’t.  

“i can see the resemblance between you two. Hermes before you continue your work you may find yourself interested in visiting Elysium for a minute or two”  

Hermes’s eyes squinted yet he nodded, grabbing Odysseus’s wrist and ducking off, waving at her as a goodbye, and Odysseus couldn’t help but be confused on why, on how, Hermes could be so casual around the night herself, and yet it was so in character wasn’t it? Hermes had always been this way, for the short time he’d known him.  

Hermes ducked the two off through a bedroom which seemed rather inconvenient that this was the only way through to Elysium, though he suspected Hermes was simply aiming to upset someone again.  

“to Elysium we go Darling! I wonder why she called us there! Well no matter! We'll find out rather quickly! It'll be a lovely little stroll really it will!”  

He frowned, that was in no way convincing. He followed after Hermes though to his surprise it was in fact a lovely little stroll, if you could ignore the fact that Hermes had had to fight a few unruly ‘shades’ as he called the dead here.  

The two slowed and Hermes began moving through the rooms a bit more carefully, Odysseus couldn’t tell if he was avoiding something entirely or if he was simply cautious around Elysium.  

And then it happened, a shade, not unlike the rest, he sat in a field of lush green grass, he wore a chiton covered with a blue cape over it, much like Odysseus’s, his hair was short and curled, a deep rich brown.  

Hermes froze, his eyes widened, if Odysseus wasn’t a smarter man he’d have said the god looked scared. Hermes grappled for his wrist, as if to pull him away from the area, and it hit him with the force of a boat at full speed.  

Hermes was afraid.  

Chapter Text

The man turned his head towards Hermes, and the gods grip on Odysseus’s wrist tightened to the point where Odysseus could have completely believed it would break, the man's eyes were wide and his pupils were clearly dilated.  

A smile fashioned itself onto the mans face and Hermes responded with stumbling backwards, he could feel the gods wings beating furiously behind him, like a scared bird, a cornered animal.  

“hermes?”  

The man asked softly, standing up and approaching Hermes, who was frozen in place, his breathing ragged and unstable, the man then turned his gaze to Odysseus, his expression was clearly confused, but not mad.  

“hello there, I'm Crocus, who might you be? Forgive my rudeness but you look a little old to be one of Hermes’s lovers”  

Odysseus found himself laughing at that, the idea was rather absurd, him and Hermes was a possibility about as likely as him hating Penelope, so impossible it was funny.   

“you are quite right, i am his relative”  

Crocus nodded, before turning his head back to Hermes, Odysseus too turned to see his great grandfather, worry squirming in his chest like a worm.  

“crocus”  

Hermes’s voice cracked and broke, Crocus’s expression softened, Hermes dropped his grip on Odysseus’s wrist just so he could lung forwards at Crocus and pull him into a hug, he could hear the gods sobbing, tears spilt on the soft grassy floor.  

“I’m sorry, I'm so so sorry Crocus, i never meant to- i didn’t- I'm sorry, I'm sorry if i could turn back time I'd fix it in a heartbeat, Crocus I'm so sorry”  

Odysseus had never once heard a man so torn with sorrow, so ruined by grief, he found himself standing still eyes wide as he watched what must have been a reuniting of two lost souls, though one was never lost was he?   

“it’s okay Hermes, i know, I'm the one who stood up wasn’t i? You did what you could afterwards anyway. I'm just happy to see you again”  

Hermes finally dropped away from him, stretching one of his wings, the ones on his back which Odysseus didn’t often pay attention to (now that he thought about it he wasn’t sure he’d ever seen them before) to drag Odysseus closer.  

“right, yes i should probably introduce Odysseus here, uh not that he hasn’t already, but he is my great grandson! We were just dropping in for a quick visit!”  

Crocus smiled again at Odysseus, he was still confused, he didn’t really know what their relationship was, lovers probably, that was his best guess.  

“and Crocus is my lover! Or uh, ex lover i suppose, we haven’t spoken for a while so i suppose things are over! Hah"  

Hermes had laughed but it was not mirthful in anyway, more self deprecating than anything, Crocus simply hummed in response, as if in thought. He turned away from Hermes waving him over as if to show the two something, Hermes of course followed, so Odysseus did as well.  

“perhaps, i was wondering why you stopped visiting me Hermes, but i will not lie and say i have no feelings for you anymore, as i still do love you with all my soul”  

Hermes laughed only in response, clearly nervous, it was odd to see the god of messages so nervous, so panicked, it was almost unnatural, like seeing the sun in a dark sky, something not physically possible, yet it was occuring anyway.  

“haha wow you can’t just say that to a guy darling! I'd almost think you meant it, i mean i didn’t stop liking you either but we probably shouldn’t discuss this infront of my great grandson how about we pick this up later right darling?”  

Odyssues was being used so that Hermes could avoid his problems. It was blatant, obvious and poorly hidden if it was even meant to be hidden at all.   

“i suppose if you wish to talk later we can, it only gives me more excuses to see your face”  

Hermes giggled nervously before grabbing Odysseus’s wrist.  

“right well yes okay! We can pick this up later, for now i do have to do my job, goodbye darling!”  

Chapter Text

He found himself back in ‘the house of hades’ as Hermes called it, dragged by his great grandfather, finally he was to meet the god of the underworld, would he realise that Odysseus was probably meant to be dead ten times over? Would he demand to reap his soul, only to find it was tied inexorably to his body?  

“hermes.”  

The god of the underworld boomed, his voice shaking the ground, Odysseus was in no way ashamed to say he held his great grandfathers hand a bit tighter at the sound, his back was aching, possibly an effect of the day so far, it had been nothing but walking, walking and more walking.  

“hiya boss man! Got a message for you! I think”  

Hermes grabbed a letter from the air, where it had not been before and was now, he frowned at it, before hopping up to the god of death and placing it on the large imposing desk that the god sat at, Odysseus stayed on the floor where, hopefully the god could not see him.  

“thank you. Leave my domain now. You livings are...hard to deal with being around”  

He was in no way meaning to be cruel, nor rude, Odysseus was sure of that, and yet it sparked annoyance in his very soul, if he had been braver, and he had not been, he would have sent a glare the gods way. Instead he allowed himself to be dragged away by Hermes, taken upon Charons boat and brought back to the land of the living.  

He walked with Hermes, in silence, not for not knowing what to say, but for simply not wanting to say anything, dread was weighing heavy on his shoulders, something bad was going to happen and he couldn’t decide what it was or why it was.  

The grass was soft beneath his feet, his lungs felt like the air was caught in them, he looked to the sky, clouds of grey were huddling in close, his mind was awhirl with memories of the last storm, the way that Poseidon had formed, the water meeting his face, the way the windbag had slipped from his reach.  

He shook his head. There was no time to think of such things. Storms were normal occurrences, brought on by Poseidon yes, but there was no way the god would target his weather at Ithaca specifically.  

The air shifted as Athena materialised beside them, she looked...different. Her eyes were wide her pupils blown, her hair was tied now, up into a ponytail that curved wildly, her curls ruining its ‘perfect’ shape.  

Her back sported two wings, feathers ruffled from her arms, though her peplos and armour hid most of them, her scars, the ones afflicted by Zeus were more prominent, glowing an eery yellow.  

“Odysseus, it is not my, well it is not my nature to give messages, but Zeus has informed me he wishes a council with you...now.”  

Hermes tightened his grip on Odysseus’s hand. Panic was settling in his chest, his world numbing around him. He was glad he was not a sobbing mess as he wished so desperately to be.  

“why?”  

His voice came out gruffer than expected, more startled too, Athena shook her head, reaching for his hand, her taloned fingers a mere whisker away before a violent flinch overtook him.  

“Odysseus, you will only incur his wrath if you dally, we must go now.”  

She did not sound like she did nowadays, her voice was cold, closed off, her posture too rigid, she seemed like she had before, when they were once friends, on guard. Looking for any possible threat. Odysseus could not fault her, for he felt quite the same way.  

She reached for him again and this time he allowed for his hand to be taken in hers, her grip unnaturally strong, bordering on painful.  

“you may wish to close your eyes for this. I know not what the travel to Olympus through my means would do to a human mind. Hermes would you tell Penelope and Telemachus that Odysseus may be missing for a day or two?”  

Hermes let out an indignant squawk, if Odysseus had not been a smarter man, or if he had simply been a less terrified one, he’d have called it a funny sound, though now no feelings of amusement could worm into his chest.  

“No sister, i shall not. They will have to find out on their own, or someone else may tell them, the last time i let Odysseus off alone with a god he nearly died, and the time before that he got trapped on an island for seven years. I will not leave.”  

Ah yes. He supposed Hermes was right in that way, he’d had quite an awful track record with gods of all kinds, Athena sighed, though it was not one of annoyance as he once would have assumed, simply tire that must have bore into her bones as it had long made home to his.  

He screwed his eyes tight as the ground began to lift away from him, or he lifted away from it, vertigo squirmed from his chest, his head feeling all too light and yet all too heavy at the same time, his vision swimming once he opened his eyes.  

Olympus was both just as expected and yet not at all, the ground seemed almost to be clouds with how it changed its shape like the Lethe, he was hurried forwards before he could process more than that, led towards an amphitheatre.  

He could not possibly comprehend how different the god before him looked. His mind ached as he tried to. He instead turned to Hermes, to see if he too had changed, and much to his Suprise the god had.  

His pupils were dark now, filled with yellow irises, upon his head were two pairs of wings, one pair he saw on the daily, though the other were ragged, one burnt sharply, upon his back stretched a pair of wings, one burnt so horribly it hurt to look at, and his skin, gods his skin, it was covered in white feathers, half of them scorched black.  

“Odysseus of Ithaca. Do you know why you have been called here today?”  

He did not. He did not possibly comprehend just why he had been taken, dragged from Ithaca once more, to the feet of the thunder bringer. Zeus’s voice boomed through the amphitheatre and through his skull, he waited until the room was silent, until the gods voice stopped booming, and spoke, his voice quieter and shakier then ever before.  

“i am afraid not Lord Zeus”  

The god did not wear the smirk he had seen upon his face, the one he’d worn the day he’d been told to kill Astyanax, the day that he’d been told to choose, no now the god sported a frown, one that tugged at his lips.  

“you have broken many rules in your life Odysseus, this one is the most heinous of your actions however”  

Odysseus could not help himself from wracking through his actions, he had not broken the laws of Xenia by killing the suitors, he had not let them in, he had not granted them Xenia. He knew that.  

He did not know what prompted him to speak, perhaps divine intervention, perhaps some god found his suffering so amusing they made his mind so open to the idea of speaking back, even in such the quiet way it was.  

“may i inquire as to what rule i have broken this time, Lord Zeus”  

He heard the sharp inhale, the hiss of air going into Hermes’s teeth, it seemed his words, as quiet as they were, had only made Zeus madder, for his eyebrows tugged down as did his lips, his voice louder as he spoke.  

“you truly are one insolent mortal. You were never given any sort of permission for your immortality, not by me. What mortal harbours so much hubris that they break my laws?”  

He had not expected what happened next. He had expected to meet his end to lightning. To having his chest carved open by Poseidon's spear, any number of horrific deaths by the gods he could have expected that, not Hermes stepping forwards, his charred wings closed up on his back, his voice shaking as he spoke.  

“Lord Zeus, Father. As your personal messenger i have had quite some time, and many opportunities to look over your rules, and not only has there not been ever a written rule nor spoken from my knowledge, of immortality granted to a mortal being illegal, but there has been many a time when gods, Olympic and Chthonic alike turning mortals immortal for our own gain, to bring your wrath on Odysseus, my child, and as such yours too, for breaking a law that was never once made would only stir the agitation in Olympus, don’t you think? Those who see you as lesser would only use this for their gain, a mutiny could happen”  

Odysseus tried to ignore the fear that spun in his chest as Hermes all but threatened his father, the way Zeus’s eyebrows furrowed, his godly gaze focused on Odysseus then Athena. Before he spoke, quieter than before.  

“fine. You make a point. Get out of my sights. Know you are on thin Ice Odysseus. One disrespect to me, one failure, and you are as good as dead.”  

Athena clutched his hand tight, the ground fading away before Hermes could rush back over to them, the soft grass beneath his feet made his heart lurch, he had not even realised he’d closed his eyes, he stumbled backwards, eyes wide, Hermes appearing shortly beside him, a hand in his.  

Everything would be fine. He just needed to believe that. His heart still beat in his chest, his lungs still pulled air, his brain still thought, he was alive. even if he didn't want to be.