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Chapter Text

There used to be a meadow here. In better days, herdsmen would bring their livestock out here to graze. The animals would happily forage through grasses, shrubs, and flowers for food. Green and life stretched far and wide.

Not anymore.

Today, feet of men have trampled down these meadows. The only plants growing are stray bundles of weeds or brambles.

This old meadow rings with sounds of battle. Victorious war cries from some, and screams of pain from others. The disruptive din of bronze clanging across bronze can be heard all across the battlefield; a clang when a sword's broad edges clashes with a shield, or scraping sounds when two blades meet.

Underneath this bronze are the soldiers themselves. It is their arms that swing these weapons. It is their legs that move them forward. It is their muscle that provide the force to push forward. While most attacks land on metal, some strike true. Blunt weapons slam into flesh, sending shockwaves through the body, rupturing blood vessels and shattering bones. Sharp blades cut through skin and muscle. Screams and blood splatter through the air. Some wounds are more severe. After these, a soldier is reduced to a lifeless corpse clad in armor, his soul on its way to Hades. What was once a meadow teeming with life is now a field of death.

The walls of a great city can be seen in the distance. The walls of Troy. This battle is just one of the many sites of the Trojan War, which has been going on for several years at this point.

In what feels like ages ago, the Goddess of Strife, Eris, tempted three Olypmian Goddesses with a golden apple for the fairest. These three goddesses were Aphrodite, the Goddess of Love, Hera, the Goddess of Marriage and Queen of the Gods, and Athena, Goddess of Wisdom and Strategy. Each of them wanted the apple, and argued between themselves, unable to concede another goddess earning the title of "the fairest". They eventually settled on allowing a mortal to decide who the apple went to, a Prince of Troy named Paris. Paris gave the apple to Aphrodite, who rewarded him with the love of a beautiful woman named Helen. This decision by Paris sparked much discord from Hera and Athena. This sparked discord from the Achaeans as well. Helen was betrothed to a Achaean King named Menelaus, but the work of Aphrodite whisked her away to Troy. Menelaus, enraged and betrayed by Helen and Paris, sought out revenge. He called upon other kings and warlords to assist him in his pursuit of revenge on Troy. His brother, Agamemnon, answered the call with no hesitation. These warlords marshalled a grand army to sail to Troy for conquest. With a tribute as simple as a golden apple, Eris was able to spark a war between mortals. By extension, she sparked a war between the gods, with some supporting Trojans and some supporting the Achaeans. The war has been going on for years, with no discernable end in sight.

Chapter Text

The battle today was one like many others. Ranks of soldiers would form, with battle pulses pushing towards advantage when possible. But stamina is short lived. An overextension could lead to amplified reprisal. Gaining a permanent advantage would require a mind for strategy.

Behold Odysseus, King of Ithaca! Blessed by the Goddess of Wisdom herself, his mind is sharper than the blades of war. His arrival to the front lines was more than welcome. Odysseus gathered all men under his command, and gave orders to hold position. Wounded soldiers were ordered to retreat, with fresh reinforcements filling their rank. The men laced their shields together to form a shield wall, creating a sturdy barrier.

"Perfect," said Odysseus. "This gives me time to think..."

"Captain!" said a nearby soldier. "What are your further orders?"

"Troy is bringing more reinforcements, I can see them approaching in the distance. I've arranged for some of our soldiers to cut them off while they are on the move. They will strike when I fire my arrow. However," Odysseus explained. "We need to hold this position. If the Trojans push us back now our flanking party will have no support."

"Yes sir!" chanted the soldiers. They planted their heels into the earth and leaned against their shields to brace them. The Trojans slammed against them with no success.

Odysseus fired his arrow into the air. Achaean soldiers ran around the flanks with shortswords drawn. They had removed their shields for increased agility; agility necessary to make this plan work. The main battle line of the Trojans could not react in time, and the Achaean flank succeeded. The Trojan reinforcements were trickling in and had not yet become organized. They were not expecting this. This single-file line of reinforcements could not organize itself fast enough to support itself. A single Trojan soldier in this line was quickly surrounded by several Achaeans. A clang of a shortsword being blocked by a spear. A sword clashing with another. But soon enough, a blade slashes through an arm. The muscles holding the shield give out. A blade slashes through legs. The soldier falls to his knees. From here, only one more strike is necessary. A final shortsword pierces through the neck. Another soul sent to Hades.

This pattern happened repeatedly while the reinforcements trickled in. The Trojans were losing soldiers quickly. Occasionally a stray soldier managed to fight off the attackers and escape, but the trend was clear. This tactic of Odysseus was working as planned. The forces of Troy were losing this battle. Something would need to change for the tides to turn.

Behold Prince Hector of Troy! The son of King Priam, and brother of Prince Paris. The finest warrior of the Trojans, his strength and valor are unmatched. He was travelling with the trickle of reinforcements in the middle of the pack. As soon as he saw what was going on to the stragglers at the front, he reacted.

"Trojans!" he yelled. "Form up. We're under attack!"

Hector noticed one of his men getting surrounded ahead of him. He charged forward with his spear raised. With the Achaean soldiers focusing on picking off this other soldier, they did not see Hector coming. His spear impaled an enemy soldier, carried through with the momentum from his charge. With his spear stuck in this enemy soldier, Hector drew his sword. With a few more slashes, another Achaean soldier was down. These soldiers dropped their shields to get here quickly, but now it put them at a disadvantage. No shield was raised to block Hector's killing blow. In this skirmish, one soldier remained. He swung his sword at Hector, only for it to be parried and fall to the ground.

"It's over..." panted Hector between breaths. "Stand down."

The Achaean soldier kicked his sword away and slumped to the ground.

"Keep an eye on him, I'm going to help the others."

And so did Hector, until the flanking party of the Achaeans was dealt with. Many of them killed by his hand, but some disarmed. Thanks to Hector, the reinforcement party finally reached the main force.

The Trojans turned to see their compatriots join them. Their gaze turned to Prince Hector, standing tall with his men. The light from the sun shone upon his armor, causing it to shimmer. Upon seeing their beloved Prince arrive, the Trojans cheered. His presence brought morale to the soldiers. A second wind of energy flowed through them. Despite their fatigue, it had been like they had just rested. The tides of the battle had substantially turned in Troy's favor.

Hector kept fighting forward until he could see Odysseus.

"Odysseus!" he called out. "Let us put an end to this bloodshed for today. If you agree to remove your forces from this area, I will release the survivors from the flanking party. I will order my soldiers not to pursue yours as you leave."

"My soldiers! Stand down, but remain on guard. I need to talk with Prince Hector."

The Trojan and Achaean soldiers stopped fighting, but kept their shields and weapons ready just in case. Both sides breathed a sigh of relief. Many were breathing heavily and exhausted from the fighting, a pause was much appreciated. Trojan soldiers parted ways for Hector to walk through, the Achaean soldiers did the same for Odysseus.

"I'm inclined to accept your offer, Prince Hector. But I have to ask. What's in this for you? Why not push your advantage?" Odysseus asked.

"A stop to the fighting is a victory for me. The soldiers that survive today will live to fight for Troy another day. We don't need to waste our forces killing more Achaeans. I hope you feel the same," explained Hector.

"I haven't met a man that noble. Surely there is something you're not telling me," Odysseus replied.

"I guess there is one more thing. When your soldiers vacate the area, we will use that opportunity to fortify this area. We'll shore up our defenses and secure our supply lines between here and Troy. I also expect you to leave behind anything permanent, like your planning tent."

"Well, that sounds more like it. And as much as I would like to stop this plan of yours, this is a losing battle for us. We'll gather our men, living and dead, and head back to our main camp."

With that, the Achaeans sheathed their weapons and started their exit. The wounded pulled away first, clasping their hands around their wounds, trying to keep them shut. Some injuries were more severe, and other soldiers had to help them limp back. Many slung the bodies of fallen soldiers on their backs. Their faces were scowls of anger, adrenaline, or exhaustion. But as the Achaeans shuffled past Prince Hector, most gave a solemn nod of respect. Despite being the enemy, he had spared their lives.

Soon, Odysseus was the last Achaean there. He felt the eyes of scorn from the Trojans he had been trying to kill moments ago. He stood to face Prince Hector.

"I may very well be the man to kill you someday, Prince Hector, and end this war. But if I have to be the one to do it, I will be reluctant. Until that day comes, I wish you well."

Odysseus paused.

"...Thank you." Then he left.

After a moment's rest as the Achaeans departed, the Trojans started to work. The first task was to tend to the wounded. Prince Hector helped many to their feet, and slung their arm over his shoulder to help them walk.

"I will be taking the wounded here back to Troy. When I arrive, I will send more soldiers to replace those of us leaving today," Hector announced. "I will need some assistance."

A handful of men stepped forward to help him. Together they all formed a group ready to head back to Troy. As they left Hector turned to look at his men one last time before leaving. He raised his fist in the air.

"Hail, Sons of Troy!" he exclaimed.

"Hail, Prince Hector!" the men responded.

Walking away, he heard chanting from the soldiers remaining.

"HECTOR, HECTOR, HECTOR, HECTOR..."

Chapter Text

Hector's wife, Andromache, had spent her entire day near the top of a tower, staring out the window. From up here, she could see nearly the entire city and past the walls into the countryside. Worry coursed through her heart. She stared out the window, trying to catch a glimpse of the battlefield. Of course, there was nothing that could be done from up here. The distant dots of soldiers moved like grains of sand from this far away. An unfamiliar eye would be unable to distinguish the difference between the different groups. 

But Andromache knew. She woke up with him. She remembered how it felt to place her hand on his chest while he breathed. She helped him get ready for battle. She tightened the leather straps that secured his armor to his body. They walked through the city together until they reached the gates. Andromache had the chance to kiss him one last time before he donned his helmet and left.

Andromache kept a rhythm in her mind of where Hector should be. She knew how long it took for a group of soldiers to march from the city to the front lines. But they weren't where they were supposed to be. Something was wrong. There was some sort of interruption. She couldn't do anything but stare. Stare and pray. But who to pray to? Athena would be the best patron for safety in battle, but she favored the Achaeans. Ares? A reckless warmonger. Hera was spurned by Prince Paris. Another goddess remained: Aphrodite. She had protected Paris, surely she could protect Hector.

Andromache raised her face to the heavens, her heart filled with worry, her eyes filled with tears. She squeezed her eyelids shut and the tears streamed down her face.

"Aphrodite! If you can hear me, please..." Andromache wailed. "Please protect my husband from harm. Goddess of Love, please honor the love we share for each other and keep him safe!"

She kept her eyes closed and her face facing upward. She cried for several minutes like this. Eventually she found a catharsis. She took several deep breaths and opened her eyes.

She could see the front lines! The distant soldiers still looked like grains of sand. But they were buzzing anymore as if they were fighting. Something had changed. They stopped, they were calm. Then half of the grains slowly drifted away. The Achaeans were retreating! Hector's fate was still unknown, but Andromache felt a wave of relief wash over her. She was able to remain composed for the rest of the day. 

Night fell, and Hector was still gone. This was common; Hector spent days away at battle often. Andromache laid in bed alone that night. Although she had done it often, she still felt the sorrow of his absence, the longing for his body to share their bed. Many restless hours went by. Waiting...

The new day began with Rosy-Fingered Dawn stretching out across the sky. Andromache walked out to the window again to see where the Trojans were. Much closer than yesterday, she saw Hector's group approaching. He was coming home! Joy filled her heart. She changed into her street clothes and hurried down to the gates.

Eventually Prince Hector and his troops reached the city. They were welcomed through the gates. Hector bid farewell to his soldiers, and they went their separate ways. As the crowd cleared, he saw Andromache panning her view in the crowd, searching for him as well. Even standing in her ordinary clothes, the sight of her was incredible. Her eyes locked with his. Her look of confusion instantly transformed to a grin when she saw him. She ran over to him and slung her arms around him.

"Hector!"

There was a special way she said his name. Her tone was so specific to him, her voice entered his ears like a key in a door. Everyone else refers to him as his noble title of prince, or his military commander on the battlefield. But when she said it, there was an implication there. Hector. Husband. 

"I'm so glad to see you, Andromache," said Hector. He wrapped his arms around her as well, and they held each other. She buried her face in his chest. With him here, the world returned to peace; the worry she felt in his absence washed away. They remained for a moment, then parted to prepare to go home. They started walking home together, holding each other's hands as they walked.

"Tell me everything," she said.

"We were losing the battle before my forces arrived. I saw some men perish before I could help..."

"Hector, you did everything you could. Not even your shoulders are broad enough to carry the whole of Troy."

"There's more too. And this part is better. Our forces arrived and the tides turned."

"That's good!"

"And the best part. We convinced Odysseus to stop fighting and surrender that position."

"We? You're too humble, Hector. That couldn't have happened without you."

A shy smile crept over his face.

"I suppose I can take some credit. I maintain that it was a group effort. But... thanks."

Andromache and Hector reached the palace where they lived. The hour was still rather early, so there were not many people around. This gave them the chance to retire to their quarters without getting locked into too many conversations. In a different context, they would be happy to converse with their friends and family, but they were both exhausted. However, Prince Hector did feel a duty to let his father know that he made it home safe. 

Here Hector entered, finding King Priam atop his throne. He appeared to be deeply absorbed in thought. 

"Father?"

King Priam looked up and saw his son. He gave out a sigh of relief.

"Welcome home, Prince Hector," said King Priam. His regal voice resonated through the hall. In his years spent as Troy's king, Priam had become a skilled orator; his speech carried an aura of authority and wisdom.

"I have spent many hours wondering about the progress of you and our countrymen. I am glad to see you return alive," he continued. "I know you have been away for a long time. You need some food. And some rest. Go now, knowing you have made me proud."

"Thank you, father. Farewell."

Hector exited, with a strange surge of energy. The thought of food and rest gave him something to look forward to. Andromache was seated at a table in their quarters. She had prepared a meal for the both of them already. The bulk of the meal was bread, with olives and figs as a side. For this meal, they did not follow the patterns and decorum that nobility would normally follow. As it was just the two of them, they enjoyed the food and each other's company.

Andromache pointed to Hector's armor. It was filthy, covered in dust, grime, and old blood. 

"This blood. Is it yours?"

"No."

"Then who's?"

"Our enemies. Our allies. Too many wounded. Too many dead."

She paused. She spent a moment trying to imagine what her husband had been through. 

"We should clean you up. Let us wash away the battlefield. We are home now."

He agreed. Andromache took his hand and led him to the bath. 

Chapter Text

He stood tall. She walked to his back, and loosened the straps that fastened his armor to his body. Andromache remembered how it felt to put his armor on; it felt so long ago. She removed his armor, and began to strip the clothes off underneath. Her face was now right near his bare back. The seams of his clothes and armor had left an imprint on his skin. She traced the imprint with her finger, feeling the familiar muscles along his shoulders and back. She continued following down to his lower back, and then slid down under the back of his pants. Her hands grabbed the edge of his pants and pulled them down to the floor. He wore no clothes now, wearing only the splotches of crusted blood and caked dust from the battlefield. He stepped over the edge of the bath and entered.

Andromache began washing Hector. She would dip a sponge in the water and squeeze it above him, the warm water pleasantly showering down on him. Once his entire body was soaked, she began scrubbing his body with a soapy sponge. The crusted filth soaked up the water, soon to be washed away by another rinse from Andromache. The water splashed and dripped down his body. Andromache stared intently as the water travelled down his chest, his abs, into the notches in his hips, and down. She repeated this cycle over and over, rinsing and scrubbing, until Hector was completely clean. The skin that had once bore the weight of the past couple days now shone fresh and radiant. 

He gently placed his hands on her shoulders and grabbed the straps of her dress. He lifted it up past her shoulders and over her face, completely removing it. She now stood completely exposed. They stood extremely close, but not yet touching. They held hands, looking into each other's eyes. He paid close attention to how beautiful her eyes looked. The way her eyelashes moved as she slowly blinked at him. The way the light twinkled. The color of her eyes: rich, brown irises. Bronze. They stared at each other, communicating so much without speaking any words.

"Your turn," said Hector. He guided her into the bath to join him. Hector washed Andromache just as she had washed him. A sponge filled with clean warm water, squeezed out to get her wet, followed by a soapy scrub, then another rinse. Every new rinse of warm water felt so nice. He watched the water drip down the features of her body. The water flowed from her raised arms down her sides. It dripped from her shoulders, down her back, over her butt and legs. Another rinse on her lower back, the water flowing between her legs. Another rinse on her chest, watching the water drip over and around her breasts, and continue down her belly, and down. 

Now they were both clean. Both fresh. They dried off, but did not put clothes on. Andromache led Hector to their bed.

"Here, Hector. Let us rest," said Andromache. 

"Gladly," Hector replied. 

They got under the covers and cuddled together. They pressed their naked bodies against each other’s. They felt the warmth of their fresh skin pressed together. The hours of restlessness had caught up to both of them. They were entirely ready for sleep. Completely. The rest came nearly instantly. 

Several hours passed. Hector and Andromache laid in bed together, their slow breaths of sleep synchronized. They were spooning, with Hector as the big spoon and Andromache as the little spoon. She gently awakened, fluttering her eyes open but not lifting her head from the pillow. She had felt something hard press against her ass. She smiled, she knew exactly what it was. She pressed her ass up against his hard cock, still in the spooning position. She pulsed a couple of times, rubbing her butt cheeks on his crotch. He let out a moan.

"You woke me up," he said softly.

"Oh yeah?" she replied. "I think it was you who woke me up." She reached around behind her back and touched his cock with her hand.

"That?" he laughed. "How about this?"

He grabbed her hip and humped his cock against her ass, this time with intention. She pressed her ass against him, maximizing the sensation. 

"Do that again," she commanded. 

With the hand that was grabbing her hips, he reached down further and found her clit. He gently rubbed it as he grinded against her. She moaned.

Hearing her moan like that awakened Hector completely. He got out from under the covers and into an upright position behind her. He used his left hand to flip her from her side to her belly, then grabbed her hips from behind with both hands. He lifted her hips up into the air, and she let out a yelp of excitement. 

Stark in front of Hector's face was Andromache's thighs, cheeks, vulva, and asshole. She was wet already. He could see her dripping wet, with the telltale sign of her pubic hair soaked. He pressed his face up against her vulva and started to lick. He stuck his tongue as far forward as it could reach, trying to lick her clit. She let out another moan, and pressed her ass hard into his face. She tasted amazing. He eagerly lapped up all of her wetness, which excited her even more. She loved it so much, she simply needed to keep backing up into his face. Waves of pleasure washed over her as she felt his tongue run along her clit and vulva. With how she was gyrating, his tongue went inside her sometimes too. 

"Yes, yes, YES!" she screamed into her pillow. She kept her face buried in the pillow as he went down on her. She was gasping for breath through it in a pleasurable way.

"Don't stop, don't stop, please keep going," she cried. He eagerly continued. He couldn't get enough of how she tasted. 

She reached her own hand down to her clit and started playing with it. With her hand there, Hector put his face slightly higher, licking closer to her vagina. She could feel his firm grip on her hips, keeping her raised up. She felt his grip tighten any time she moaned or screamed, reminding her how much he was turned on too. 

"Hector, I..." she said in a flustered moan. "...I, I, I'm going to, I'm going to cum!"

Uncontrollably, her vagina and anus started pulsing. She felt an intense wave of pleasure crash over and over. Her muscles gave out. Blood rushed to her head. Hector watched Andromache's asshole clench in orgasm, turning him on incredibly. He dropped her hips, and allowed her body to collapse onto the bed. She turned over to her back, her face now revealed. The hot fever of orgasm continued as she looked up at him. She weakly made a gesture beckoning him, and pointed to her lips. He climbed over her and kissed her. 

"Mmm," she moaned. "But that's not what I meant when I pointed at my mouth."

She looked down at his cock, extremely erect from him being so turned on. A thick bead of precum had been released as he went down on her, and she could see it all over the tip of his penis. 

"Your cock. My mouth," said Andromache. 

Hector raised himself up onto his knees, and Andromache sat up and approached his crotch. His cock twitched erect right in front of her face. She looked up at his eyes and smiled. She stared into his eyes, just as she had done before her bath. These were the eyes of her husband. There was something else in there too: a fire, a hunger. Lust. She locked her eyes with his, and wrapped her lips around the tip of his cock. She could taste Hector's precum, and she could feel how hard he was. He let out a moan. 

"Mmmm," she let out, the moan escaping through her nose. She pulled her lips away for a second to catch her breath. She was still flustered after her orgasm, and was panting on his cock. She reached around his body and grabbed his ass, and pushed his cock in her mouth as she lowered down again, his cock completely swallowed by her. She bobbed up and down, feeling his cock throb at the sensation. She pulled her mouth away again, staring at his cock, now soaked with her spit and his precum.

"Fuck me, now." she commanded. "I need you."

He was in such a state of pleasure, it made it difficult to speak. Instead, he gave a moan of agreement. Andromache laid all the way back on the bed and spread her legs open. Hector lowered down and positioned his legs and crotch to meet an angle complementary to hers. He rubbed his cock on her clit and vulva, using his tip to spread her wetness all around. This felt good, but also a bit of a tease.

"Please..." she cried softly.

At last his cock lined up with her vagina at the perfect angle. She was so wet that it slid in smoothly. 

"Ohhhhhh," he moaned. The way her vagina felt around his cock was incredible. She was perfectly turned on, and her vagina stretched and was filled by him in perfect harmony. She raised her arm over her mouth, and bit her own forearm to scream.

"Yesssssssss," she screamed, her voice slightly muffled but still quite loud. 

He kept thrusting, and the two of them kept moaning at each other.

Andromache reached up and grabbed Hector by his shoulders, and pulled him down to kiss her. She felt his lips on hers, and reached around to the back of his head to keep him there. She stuck his tongue in his mouth, and he immediately answered too. Together their lips and tongues intertwined, as did the rest of their bodies. 

He tightened his grip on her body, and started thrusting even faster. Her heart was racing, she knew what this meant.

"Andromache, I..." moaned Hector. "I'm going to..."

"Cum for me, Hector!"

With his penis deep inside her, Hector started to cum. The sensation was incredibly intense. She felt him keep thrusting as he came, pushing the cum deeper and deeper inside her. 

"I'm going to cum!" she moaned. Her hands that were clasped in his hair and on his back now tightened. She gripped a lock of his hair with one hand and dug her fingertips into his back with the other. He vagina and anus started pulsing again, as it did before. This time, her vagina was contracting around his cock while he was inside her. The pleasure was so intense, she felt it crashing and rippling throughout her whole body. Hector felt the same pleasure too, and he collapsed on top of her. 

They laid there like that for a moment, listening to each other breathe, their breaths shaky and fluttered. Eventually he slid his cock out of her and laid down at her side. She cuddled up next to him, wrapping him up with her arms and legs. He turned his head to its side and they pressed their foreheads together. They stared into each other's eyes once again. The lust was still there, but it had something even deeper blossoming in his eyes now. Love.

"I love you," they said in unison.

Chapter Text

On Mount Olympus, the Olympian Gods watch over the mortal world and partake in their own affairs. The realm of the gods is more rooted in imagination than physicality. Objects and features have the ability to slowly transform based on the collective perception of the gods. The closer an object or place is to the essence of a god, the easier it is for them to rationalize its existence in accordance with their imagination. For collective objects, like structures and spaces, the appearances of them is a combination of collective belief and will. Neutral spaces such as parks and temples have classical appearances. The private quarters of gods have more personalized spaces, and vary wildly from god to god. However, the gods don't perceive the world like mortals do. Where a mortal would recognize this pattern and try to consciously change objects, the gods simply observe the world, with objects conforming to their subconscious belief. For this reason, it is impossible to know exactly quite the extent of this power and the speed at which transformations occur. The gods are aware of this phenomenon, they just think about it differently than mortals.

Ares, the God of War, and Aphrodite, the God of Love, were laying together in the bedroom of Ares. The bedroom was large, as with most things on Olympus. The aesthetic of the room reflected Ares's taste, with broken columns, rubble, weapons, and bones littered all over the walls and floor. Ever-blazing torch sconces emitted a terrifying blood-red light. The room had 4 walls, with one wall composed of a huge window that took up the entire wall. The view was typically like a normal window, looking to the outside of Mt Olympus. This window was magic, with the ability to observe anywhere in the mortal world that Ares was aware of. He would spend hours and hours looking around the world to find sites of active battle or violence. Sometimes, he even just found people stewing in quiet rage. That was when he was alone, though. With Aphrodite visiting, the view from the window was much more pleasant.

Aphrodite had changed the view on the window to look at Andromache and Hector. She had heard Andromache's prayer the previous day, and had taken an interest in her since. Aphrodite would pan from Andromache's view, to Hector's view, back to Andromache's, back to Hector's and keep repeating. She got very invested in their love story. Ares, on the other hand, was more interested in Hector's time on the battlefield.

"Look, look! Look how adorable they are," said Aphrodite as Andromache kissed Hector goodbye. Ares rolled his eyes.

"Let me know when something interesting happens," he said.

When the Achaeans flanked the Trojans and started killing, both of the gods watched. When Hector charged in and impaled a warrior on his spear, Ares shot up into the air and cheered.

"Did you see that!? Look at him go!" yelled Ares enthusiastically. He mimicked Hector's movements with a spear of his own. "He went all the way through! Up the armpit and through the other side of the neck. Whoo! You don't see that every day."

Aphrodite watched, but clearly this part was not as interesting to her. She and Ares followed their story with alternating moments of excitement. They watched Hector and Andromache depart, they watched Hector fight, they watched their reunion, they watched them eat and bathe together, and they watched them make love. After it was over, Aphrodite kicked her legs in the air and giggled.

"Awww! That was amazing!" she said. "That was so romantic! Did you see how they looked into each other's eyes? Did you see what they did to each other?"

Ares grunted to acknowledge her.

"And what they said to each other, so cute!! 'I love you', 'I love you'," mimicked Aphrodite. "I just love those two. Just love them. They're my favorite!"

"Okay, you can't just say everyone is your favorite," said Ares. "Every time we watch someone in love you say they're your favorite. Earlier you were saying Paris and Helen were your favorite. Are Hector and Andromache your new favorite?"

"They're all my favorite! I'm the Goddess of Love! I have enough love to go around," she said, waving her arms around happily, as if to show the space between her open arms was the vast bounds of her love.

"Bah!" Ares replied. "I'm more interested in what the mortals do on the battlefield. That's the most important realm. That's where they go to show what is in their heart."

The happy and giddy Aphrodite suddenly turned cold. When he said that, the joy she had been showing mere seconds ago vanished. She now had a shocked and disgusted look on her face.

"How could you even say that!?" she said. "I thought you understood me, but the fact that you just said that shows that you don't. At. All."

She started to walk away. Ares watched her with every step, getting farther and farther away from him. He did love her, after all.

"Woman, wait!" he called out. She kept walking.

"Aphrodite, I want to show you something!" he called out, this time using her name.

She paused and looked over her shoulder. She had to brush her long hair out of the way so she could see.

"Oh? What is it?" she asked.

Ares stood up, and changed the view of the magic window to the Achaean camp. They panned over to the warlords' tents. Their view went inside the tent of Menalaus.

"Look at this man," said Ares. "King Menelaus. Look at his face. Imagine what is in his heart. He was betrothed to Helen."

Aphrodite nodded, with the understanding that her actions led Helen to Troy.

"Look at everything he is willing to do for her, even after all this time. He called out for war. He sailed across the sea. He killed, and he was willing to let others get killed. All because he loves Helen," explained Ares. "Your realm of Love and my realm of War are intertwined. Mortals are willing to go to war for Love."

Ares finished his speech, and stared at Aphrodite, waiting to see how she would respond. 

"You do get me!" she said, a big smile widening across her face. She ran over to him, arms stretched out wide. She hugged him without breaking her stride, the momentum tackling him onto the bed. They both fell to the bed, laughing. She kissed his cheek.

They sat up, and went back to watching the window. Aphrodite switched the view back to Andromache and Hector. 

"I hope they're going to be okay," she said, worried. "I'm not sure how much I can intervene if something were to happen. Especially with the other gods being so heavily involved."

"Let's worry about something else. I'll change the view, that'll help you take your mind off of it."

Ares changed the window view to the Achaean Camp, and the two of them kept watching.

Chapter Text

Odysseus had finished setting up his new war tent at the main camp of the Achaeans. Thankfully the supplies were available, as he left behind his previous supplies with Prince Hector. With the march away from the front lines and the time spent getting everything set up, Odysseus laid down, finally ready to sleep. He closed his eyes, and felt the precious rest slowly creep into his mind. He exhaled deeply and smiled.

An Achaean soldier entered, making quite the ruckus.

"Odysseus, sir," said the soldier. "Agamemnon has summoned you to his quarters. He wishes to hear your report from the war. He said he has other plans too, but didn't disclose them with me..."

A scowl rose upon Odysseus's face. He had just laid down. 

"Can't you see I'm trying to sleep?!" Odysseus growled. He kept his eyes shut tight, trying to hold onto the sleep.

"I see that, sir, but Agamemnon insisted..."

"If you could see that, why did you say anything?! Don't you have the sense to understand a situation?! If Agamemnon wants to see me, he can wait. I don't care about what he has to say. I just want to sleep."

"I... I. I'll relay that message to him."

The soldier left. Odysseus turned over, face away from the entrance to the tent, ready to get back to sleep. The scowl left his face. Peace at last...

In what felt like no time at all, an angry man stomped into the tent.

"Insubordination of your king?!" yelled the man. "Wake up, now!"

Odysseus didn't need to open his eyes to know who this was. This was Agamemnon, the war leader of the Achaeans. His voice carried a temper and lack of patience.

Odysseus opened his eyes, a scowl returning to his face. A greater scowl than last time, as Agamemnon entered his view. He reluctantly sat up.

"Well, this must be important if you came to see me in person," said Odysseus. "I am honored, Great King Agamemnon." His second sentence was drenched in sarcasm. Odysseus held very little respect for the man, and tried at every opportunity to undermine his authority.

"I will not accept this lack of respect from the likes of you!" yelled Agamemnon.

"Well, get on with it. What do you need me for?"

"I need you to explain to me why you left the front lines! All of that progress! All of those supplies! Wasted, wasted, WASTED," Agamemnon yelled. 

Odysseus sat up straighter and stared at Agamemnon. His annoyance grew into a rage. The rude awakening was one thing, but now Agamemnon was questioning Odysseus's tactic. This was unacceptable.

"I don't expect you to understand what we did... because you WEREN'T THERE," Odysseus yelled back. "But maybe if you were, you could have seen that the battle was lost. Changing that defeat into a retreat was the best option we could have gotten. You should be thanking me... hell, you should be thanking Prince Hector"

The sound of the prince's voice enraged Agamemnon. He slammed his fist into a pillar. "That damned prince. Every day he lives in an offense! Everything he stands for is my obstacle!"

Agamemnon took several more angry breaths. And then one long exhale, as if he had just resolved a thought in his mind.

"We're not getting anything done in here," he said, strangely calmer than before. "Take your rest, Odysseus. When you are ready, report to my quarters for our future plans. I better not hear any remarks from you."

"...very well, Agamemnon," Odysseus replied.

With that, Agamemnon and the soldier left. They left behind a soiled energy in the tent, but at least they were gone now. Odysseus grumbled, but once again got excited to sleep. At last, he found rest.

Odysseus was laying on a stone platform, looking up at a starry night sky. He sat up and looked around. The darkness of night and a thick mist surrounded him. Behind him, he heard the coo of an owl. He turned his head to look at it. It seemed... familiar to him. Suddenly, he heard a woman's voice ahead of him, out of sight.

"Good! You're here. It's much easier for me to meet you here than the waking world."

This voice surprised him, and he quickly turned his head to see her. The woman was clad in celestial armor, shimmering in the starlight. Almost as if it were made of stars itself. She carried a massive round shield made of this same material. Atop her head stood a helmet balanced carefully, ready to cover her head completely at a moment's notice. Her skin softly glowed. Behind her silhouette was a frame of a glowing light. A goddess! He recognized her instantly.

"Athena!" Odysseus called out. Her visit was perfect. She always provided the best strategies and wisdom to her chosen champions.

"Welcome, Odysseus," she said. "We don't have much time, as usual. I seek to impart any advice I can give to support you in this war."

"Of course," he replied.

"The sooner we can end this, win this, the better. Once we see Troy destroyed, it will teach a valuable lesson to Aphrodite. She'll think twice before crossing me again!"

Odysseus sat quietly. It was rare that Athena let things like this get to her personally. She was normally the height of rationalism and wisdom. There must have been something supernaturally potent about that apple from Eris.

"For starters," she continued, "the move you made with Prince Hector was the correct one. Let us carry no more weight or second guessing behind that. It would only distract us. We now focus on the future."

"What do you have in mind?" asked Odysseus.

"I can feel your grasp on this plane slipping. You must be waking up soon. I don't have time to offer specifics, unfortunately."

He nodded in agreement.

"I impart to you this wisdom: understand the strength of yourself and your forces. Understand the strength of your opponents. Consider where your strength comes from, whether it comes from numbers, tools, loyalty, or ferocity. Take the time to bolster your strength before battle. Fight with intention."

The thick mist started to creep in closer. Time was running out.

"Athena! Thank you!"

"Of course, Odysseus. Good luck."

The mist enveloped the both of them, and nothing could be seen. Odysseus closed his eyes.

Moments passed by, and Odysseus opened his eyes. He was back in his tent. He was not sure how long he had been asleep, but he felt much better now. He looked over to a basket near the edge of the tent. He reasoned that some of his men delivered this while he was asleep. It was filled with some rations. How many hours had it been since he ate? The sight of the food reminded him how hungry he was, and it was a welcome sight. He ate the meal and got dressed, preparing to visit Agamemnon. Once ready, Odysseus walked through the camp and reached Agamemnon's tent. He entered.

"All hail the King of Ithaca," a sarcastic voice said as Odysseus entered. "You're not the only one who can make jokes about our titles."

Agamemnon had a grin on his face, self-satisfied for reusing Odysseus's joke. 

"So what did I miss?" asked Odysseus. 

"Not much, Odysseus. To be honest, we were waiting for you and your cunning before we made a plan," said another voice. This voice was much more friendly and respectable than Agamemnon. Odysseus turned to the new voice.

Behold Nestor! The most respected of the Achaeans in this war. Even Agamemnon held him in high regard. His honor, piety, and wisdom were well received from allies and enemies alike. 

"I received some wisdom from Athena in a dream. We should follow it, I will share it now."

Odysseus recited Athena's words from memory. He looked around the room at the warlords and strategists to see their reaction.

"To me, it sounds like she thinks we need more soldiers," said Agamemnon. Although Odysseus tried to instinctively disagree with Agamemnon, he had to agree.

"More strength can be more than just soldiers. We just need to make sure that we'll win any fight we start," said Nestor. 

"I agree, Nestor. The problem is: we're losing fights now," explained Odysseus. "Prince Hector seems to be outmatching us at every turn."

"That damned Achilles! If only he would fight for me," exclaimed Agamemnon. 

"I think his reluctance to join us is your fault, Agamemnon," started Odysseus. "But maybe I could give him another try. Achilles and his forces would completely change things for us. If this is going to work, I need you to let me talk with him alone."

Agamemnon gritted his teeth, but he knew Odysseus was right. 

"Fine. Go now, Odysseus."

Odysseus took his leave, and made way for the auxiliary camp of Achilles.

Chapter Text

Hector woke up in the comfort of his own bed. Still sleeping next to him was his wife Andromache. He watched the way her chest slowly moved as she breathed. He noticed the way her hair fell into place, and the peaceful look on her face. He gently brushed some hair away from her face and kissed her cheek. She smiled, waking up while keeping her eyes closed.

"Good morning, Hector," she said, sleepily. "Is it morning already?"

"It is. Which means I need to get ready to go soon."

Andromache frowned and looked up at him. "It feels like you just got back. I miss you!"

"I miss you too, Andromache. One day, this war will be over and we can live in peace. Until that day comes, I will continue to fight for my people."

They both got out of bed and started the day. Another meal shared. Another day helping Hector into his armor. It looked remarkably better now than it did when he arrived. The blood and grime had been washed away, uncovering the shining bronze underneath.

"I love you, Hector. Be safe."

He gave her a kiss goodbye, and left.

Here Hector entered once again, the throne room of his father, King Priam of Troy.

"I've returned, Father."

"I'm glad to see it, Prince Hector. I hope your rest has revitalized you."

Hector quietly thought about it to himself, and smiled.

"It did. But I am ready once again to serve Troy."

"The good news is that we continue to hold our positions, and the passage between the city and the forward encampment is much safer now too, thanks to your help," said King Priam. "I suspect they are plotting now to retake your position. I want you out there when they try. If we can maintain this advantage, we can eventually leverage that into a true strike at the Achaeans. At Agamemnon."

Hector braced himself, then slowly exhaled. He was ready.

Meanwhile, Odysseus was already on his way to the camp of Achilles. It was a bit of a walk from the main Achaean camp, as Achilles deliberately wanted to live as far from Agamemnon as possible. At last, he made it. He looked around, and saw many warriors simply sitting around. They sat doing simple idle tasks, such as sharpening their swords, tossing pebbles at other pebbles, or tossing tools to each other to catch. Odysseus thought they looked bored. He finally saw a familiar face. Patroclus!

"Hail, Odysseus!" Patroclus exclaimed, and waved at him. He walked over, and they grabbed each other's forearms as a greeting.

"Hello Patroclus. I suppose things must be going well for you. No death or blood over here..."

Patroclus chuckled. "I suppose boredom is better than dying. But you know very well why we don't fight. Agamemnon continues his disgrace against Achilles, and he won't apologize."

"Very true, there's a reason why I came alone. I share a contempt for Agamemnon like you, despite me still fighting for him."

"I had a feeling you came over for more than just to visit," Patroclus said. "If you have come to discuss war plans, I suggest we head inside." He gestured towards Achilles's tent, his hand holding the entrance open. Odysseus entered, with Patroclus right behind him.

"All hail, the King of Ithaca!" a sarcastic cheer came out. Upon a makeshift throne sat Achilles, dressed in everyday clothes.

"Very funny, Achilles," Odysseus retorted. "But Agamemnon already made that joke earlier today. Are you sharing jokes with him now?" Odysseus replied with a jokingly mocking tone.

Achilles threw his hands up. "Boo! Agamemnon, that bastard! I take it back. How about this..." said Achilles. "Here comes Patroclus, bringing the common rabble into my tent!" Achilles let out a hearty laugh, pleased at his new joke.

Odysseus started to smile, then started laughing too. Despite his eccentricities, it was hard to dislike Achilles. He oozed confidence, in contrast to Agamemnon. That confidence was well earned. His armor and agility had won him every battle he had gotten into. Maybe there was something more about him too.

"Alright, Odysseus. I know you must be here for a reason. Let's hear it."

"Fair enough," Odysseus replied.

Odysseus began to recount to Achilles the status of the war, the outcomes of battles, the morale of their soldiers, and the positions of the Trojans. In summary, the Achaeans were losing.

"So," continued Odysseus, "the assistance of great warriors like yourself and Patroclus would provide us the strength we need to start winning this war again."

"No."

"No? After everything I said, no?"

"Odysseus," explained Achilles, "you know very well the problems I have with Agamemnon. You're not going to convince me to fight for that bastard king."

"True, he is a bastard. We both hate him. But if we work with him we might be able to end this war and go home."

"Work with him? Fight for him?" Achilles was beginning to lose his patience. "Why do I have to be the agreeable one? He's the one that stole my share of treasure and glory. That's the important thing. He's too stubborn to relinquish any glory or authority. A tyrant, not fit to be a king!"

Achilles exhaled slowly, calming himself down.

"Odysseus, I know you came all this way. But it was for naught. I refuse to fight for Agamemnon. If you're looking for someone to fight for you, it won't be me."

Odysseus glanced over at Patroclus. Achilles noticed.

"Me OR any of my men. And don't be lingering around outside trying to convince anyone else."

Patroclus gave a shrug, acknowledging the difficult position of Odysseus but ultimately agreeing with Achilles. Patroclus led Odysseus outside, and they both left the tent. They stood for a moment before Patroclus spoke.

"I feel for you, Odysseus. But Achilles is right. Agamemnon doesn't deserve our help, and we won't give it. Hell, he doesn't even deserve your help," said Patroclus. "He forced you to join this war. Why do you continue to fight for him?"

Odysseus paused, trying to think of an answer. He remembered all of the tricks he pulled to try to avoid this war, tricks that didn't work. He thought of his home in Ithaca. Finally, he thought of his wife, Penelope.

"I have to get home," explained Odysseus. "The sooner we end this war, the sooner I can go back."

He thought of Penelope's smile and laugh. He thought of her witty remarks and sharp mind. He remembered her. He smiled.

Odysseus gave one final nod to Patroclus, and departed.

After another long walk, Odysseus reached the main Achaean camp.  He was in no hurry to see Agamemnon, so he decided to eat another meal with his crew.

"Captain," they greeted him. "Welcome back! What happened between you and Achilles?"

"Hello everyone. It went as we all expected. Achilles won't join us."

They all exhaled in disappointment. Odysseus tried to think of something to lift their spirits. Between the losses in battle and being back in Agamemnon's camp, morale was low.

"We have been here long, and we all wish to go home. I will keep trying to think of ways to win this war. Until then, let us hold firm and be ready for the next fight."

These words helped, and the crew murmured in agreement. This provided a modicum of encouragement, but morale was still low. After the meal, Odysseus rose and headed over to Agamemnon's tent.

"All hail the King of Ithaca," Agamemnon said loudly. His voice was full of sarcasm, as usual.

Odysseus sighed. "Yeah, yeah, yeah. Are you ready to take things seriously?"

"No time for jokes, eh? Alright then, go ahead."

"I'll get right to the point. Achilles has refused to fight for us. As expected. Also, none of his men will fight for us either."

Agamemnon grumbled, and clenched his fist in anger. His face turned to stone, and he spent several seconds thinking. Odysseus could watch Agamemnon's mind turning, his plans unravelling before his eyes. Agamemnon slammed his fist on the table.

"Damn that man!" he yelled. "I've decided. We don't need him! We'll attack with what we have here. Odysseus, get your men ready. You can spend the next couple days preparing."

Odysseus sighed again and shook his head. This was happening, whether he wanted it or not.

Chapter Text

The sun was rising; Rosy-Fingered Dawn stretched out across the sky. Prince Hector had been camping on the front lines for the past several days. This old meadow was looking a lot better now. Some more permanent tents had been set up, using both materials from Troy and the supplies Odysseus had left behind. Paths connected from tent to tent. Campfires burned in open gathering areas. Dedicated practice areas were set up for the soldiers to train. Some simple watch towers were set up spaced at the edges of the camp and path back to the city; sentries stood atop them on the lookout for potential attackers. A short, hip sized wall was built around some of the camp. They didn't have enough time or material to go higher or thicker, but in the event of a battle, even something small like this could provide an advantage. Not only did it protect the legs, but forcing an enemy soldier to climb the wall would leave them vulnerable to a counterattack. This camp had come together nicely.

Prince Hector looked around and smiled. He was happy to see things going so well. And, there had been no attack from the Achaeans in several days. The men had a good chance to rest and stay prepared for the next attack. It was only a matter of time now.

"Prince Hector, look! On the horizon," a sentry called out. "The Achaeans are approaching!" He pointed.

Prince Hector climbed up the tower to join the sentry. He followed the point of the sentry and spotted the approaching army. He panned his gaze around to grasp their size. A threat, to be sure, but nothing too overwhelming.

"To arms, Trojans! To arms!"

Hector raised his spear and donned his helmet. The light of dawn shone behind him, causing his silhouette to glow. The Trojan soldiers cheered, then scurried around to get ready. Soldiers grabbed their weapons, they helped each other into their armor, and hurried into formation.

Odysseus marched with an army of Achaeans towards the Trojan encampment. With every step forward, doubt entered his mind. This was a stupid idea. He shared his disagreements with Agamemnon, but Agamemnon insisted. Odysseus was surrounded by his crew, but other Achaeans not under his command were marching as well. A sizable force, but nothing strong enough to win against the Trojans. Not to mention the new fortifications. Once again, this was a stupid idea.

Odysseus had a plan to minimize his losses. The plan was genius in its simplicity: do nothing. He planned on bringing his forces close enough to the Trojans to intimidate them, but did not want to actually engage. With enough time away, he could trick Agamemnon into thinking he actually fought. The main weakness with this was to make sure the Achaeans didn't attack anyway. Odysseus had shared the plan with the men under his command, but the others made things more complicated. He couldn't share this plan with everyone, or else Agamemnon would learn of his deceit. But by not sharing the plan with everyone, there was the risk of the plan crumbling. All of these thoughts raced through his mind as he marched. Eventually, he reached the sightline of the Trojans.

"Remember the plan, my crew!" Odysseus yelled out. "Under no circumstances are you to climb over that wall. All you will find in a spear through your heart!"

His crew stood poised. Odysseus took a couple steps forward. Suddenly, a Trojan soldier released an arrow. It flew through the sky. Odysseus took a couple steps back, and an arrow landed at his feet.

"I'm glad I stepped back," he said to himself.

He heard the roar of a crowd to his left. He turned his head to look, and saw Agamemnon's soldiers running at the Trojans. He shook his head. He knew he had to convincingly fight hard enough to prove that he was still loyal.

"Forward, Achaeans! Shields up! Archers ready!"

While Agamemnon's men were running recklessly, Odysseus's crew slowly marched towards the Trojans with their shields raised. Enemy arrows bounced off their bronze shields. The Achaeans crept forward.

Agamemnon's men reached the short wall. The Trojans were ready for them. With the wall going up to their waist, it was awkward for the Achaeans to swing their swords or clubs. The attacks were easily blocked or parried. Many Achaean soldiers grew tired of this, and attempted to climb onto the wall and get a better angle. With their focus on climbing this wall, their guard was dropped, allowing for the Trojans to simply reach and impale any who tried to climb over. Odysseus saw this happening to the men out of his command and gritted his teeth.

"Exactly what I was expecting," he grumbled.

His crew was much more organized. He hid behind the shield of one of his crew, a loyal soldier named Eurylochus that guarded both himself and Odysseus. Odysseus readied an arrow in his bow, and dipped out of cover only when he was ready to release it. His first arrow completely missed, as he had not taken the time to aim.

A second arrow was prepared. Odysseus heard the din of battle all around him. Screams. Metal clanging on metal. Battle cries. He tried to focus. He pictured the sentry tower in his mind. The sentry tower with the archer that had tried to kill him earlier. He was probably still there. Odysseus spun around Eurylochus, bow aimed at the sentry tower. He released his arrow, and it flew straight into the neck of that Trojan Sentry.

The Trojan Sentry went down. A man standing next to him caught him. He tried in vain to save the sentry, but it was too late. Odysseus recognized the armor. Prince Hector. Prince Hector followed the direction of the arrow and turned his head to see its source. He locked eyes with Odysseus. They stared at each other for a couple of seconds, then Odysseus pulled out another arrow.

"This could be it. This could be the end."

Odysseus released another arrow aimed at Prince Hector. He quickly ducked and jumped off the tower to avoid the arrow. Odysseus lost sight of him. Suddenly, he heard some yells around his flank.

"Retreat! Retreat!"

He turned to see Agamemnon's men running back. Some of them were foolish enough to run with their back turned. The exposed backs were quickly filled with arrows, and the men fell into the ground face down.

"My crew! Backpedal. Slowly!"

Eurylochus and the rest of the shield-bearers began to back up, maintaining their protective stance. Odysseus and his crew successfully retreated, with no losses suffered in the battle.

After the battle, Prince Hector examined his soldiers, monitoring the wounded or the dead. His sentry had been killed by Odysseus, but for the most part, their tactics and fortifications had held. He cheered, and the Trojans joined him.

"My brothers! We have held another attack. Every victory we take is another step closer to the end of the war. Another step closer to peace!"

The Trojans cheered again.

"I must return to Troy. I have been away too long. Farewell men, and may the gods bless us."

Prince Hector returned to the city. This time returning with the good news of victory, and expecting good news himself. He thought of Andromache. He was so excited to see her.

Andromache waited at the gatehouse of Troy with some of her friends. They chatted amongst each other as they looked out the window. Usually, the gatehouse was exclusive to the general public, with only soldiers being allowed in. An exception was made to Andromache, the wife of Prince Hector. From here, it was much easier to meet him when he returned. After several days, he was finally on his way back! She could see him and some of his soldiers triumphantly returning to the city. She knew that he was safe, and she was happy.

Hector walked through the gate, and Andromache was waiting for him. She grinned as soon as she saw him, and ran over. He barely noticed in time to see her tackle him with a hug.

"You're back, Hector!"

He smiled and hugged her back. Just as they did with all of his homecomings, they held each other for a minute to bask in each other's company. Andromache smelled like home. He nestled his kissed her forehead, and looked into her eyes. Her face bore an expression he had never seen before. It was a special mixture full of joy, hope, and love.

"Hector, I'm pregnant."

Chapter Text

Aphrodite watched her name favorite couple, Hector and Andromache, reunite. Her eyes were welling up with tears of joy when Andromache told Hector that she was pregnant.

"Awwww! I can hardly stand them. They are so cute," she giggled. She glanced over to Ares. He was snoring, fast asleep after the battle. She sighed and left.

"Okay, who else can I show this to? I have to share this!"

Her mind went to other gods she could go see. This war had done some incredible damage to her relationships. Athena and Hera? Nope, the Apple of Discord was still fresh in their minds. Ares was asleep, and he probably wouldn't even care. Apollo could be willing to hang out, but Artemis and Aphrodite also did not get along. 

Another god came to mind.

"Hephaestus!"

Aphrodite made her way to the realm of Hephaestus, the God of the Forge. Zeus, the King of the Gods, had decided for the two of them to be married to try to keep Aphrodite out of trouble. That obviously didn't work. She opened the door into his realm and saw him hard at work.

The realm of Hephaestus was a grand workshop and forge. It spanned as far as the eye could see, with shelving stacks of raw materials, workbenches, anvils, forges, and everything else a master inventor would need.

"Hello, husband," Aphrodite sang to him when she saw him. He kept swinging his hammer at some metal.

"Helloooooo, husband!"

He looked up. He stared at her.

"Husband? Husband!? You dare to call me that after you've been away. Cheating on me, I'm guessing? Who was it this time? Ares, Apollo, a monster? A mortal, even?"

"Oh yeah!? You don't think I know about what you've been up to? Let me guess, the mortals, or some of your machines?"

They glared at each other with their eyebrows furrowed and frowns on their faces. After a couple seconds of staring, the corner of his mouth tilted up into a smirk, but he forced it back down. Aphrodite noticed, and the same thing happened to her. Eventually he couldn't help it, and his expression turned to a full-blown smile. They burst into laughter in unison. She laughed and placed her hand on his shoulder. They managed to collect themselves.

Aphrodite and Hephaestus pretended that they were jealous as a joke, but their relationship was completely open. Their situation was not entirely known to the mortals, who did not understand their relationship. A simple miscommunication.

"So, what brings you down here, Aphrodite?"

She was still smiling from their joke.

"Oh! I wanted to show you something. I have a new favorite pair of mortals. They are so in love! Hector and Andromache."

He grabbed her and shifted them over to his magical window. All of the gods of Olypmus had the means to observe the mortal world. 

"Okay, show me them."

She changed the view to Hector and Andromache. The hour was late, and they were both asleep. They laid together in the same bed. Aphrodite quickly caught Hephaestus up with a long-winded explanation:

"Okay, so this is Prince Hector and his wife Andromache. Hector has to go fight in the war and Andromache stays in the city and they miss each other. They pine for each other every day. When they reunite, it's always so happy! They hug, they kiss, they cuddle, they bathe each other, they sleep together, they have sex with each other, it's amazing! Andromache just told Hector that she was pregnant and they were both so happy. I love them!"

"I'm happy you found a new couple to root for, Aphrodite. Clearly the love you have for them enriches their love for each other. I can tell that they have been blessed by you."

She beamed proudly.

"Now that you showed me something, I have a new invention you might be interested in."

"Oh really? Show me!"

She sat in his lap and they shifted over to his bedroom. He reached into a drawer and pulled out a small metal cylinder with a button on it.

"What does it do?" She asked.

He held down the button for a couple seconds and the cylinder started vibrating.

"That's it?"

He handed it to her. "Use your imagination."

She played with it a little bit. Tossing it into the air and catching it. Pretending to write in the air with it like a pen. She set it on the table and watched it scurry around as it vibrated.

"It looks fun, but I'm not sure if I get it. Can you give me a hint?"

"Here's a hint: I made it specifically for you: The Goddess of Love."

She thought for a moment, then a flirty smile spread across her face.

"Oh, I think I get it now..."

She raised the vibrator up to her breast, and traced it across her nipple with her index finger. It felt very exciting. Her nipple perked up instantly. 

"You're kind of a pervert, aren't you?" She joked towards her husband.

"Hey, I'm just trying to keep up with you!" They both chuckled. 

Then Aphrodite bent down and pressed her face against his ear. He could feel her hair brush against his shoulder. He could feel her the warmth of her breath as she spoke:

"How about you show me... other places where I could use this?"

This made Hephaestus very excited. With Aphrodite's face up against his ear, he had the perfect opportunity to kiss her on the neck. She gave out a soft moan, still right against his ear.

He could barely contain himself now. He grabbed her hips and lifted her up onto his lap. She enthusiastically jumped as he lifted her. She backed up into his crotch and he held her there by her hips. She could feel him get hard under his clothes as she grinded. She tucked the vibrator into his hand and let him guide it across her body. He slid his hand down to her crotch and ran the vibrator over her clit. She was still wearing her dress, so the fabric partially blocked the sensation. She reached down to the bottom of her dress and started to pull it up, exposing her clit and vulva. He flicked his hand around her dress and now pressed the vibrator directly to her clit.

"Ohhhhh," she moaned. "Yes, yes..."

She grabbed his free hand, and guided it over her breast so he could grab it. Now his left hand was cupping her breast and his right hand was vibrating her clit. She moaned even louder now, and leaned back into him.

"Are you ready to go further?" He asked her. His voice sent a tingle on the side of her neck.

"Yessss," she moaned. The buzzing of the vibrator continued. While she loved the feeling of the vibrator on her clit, she had to get off his lap to rearrange. She stood up, and she posed triumphantly. Suddenly, her dress vaporized into a brilliant light, disappearing to present her completely naked. She had used a little bit of her Goddess powers for this trick; it was one of her favorites. 

Aphrodite was naked, but Hephaestus still had to get ready. The first thing he did was take off his clothes and put on a condom. He lacked the ability to move his legs, but he had invented a special contraption that held him up and allowed him to gyrate his hips back and forth. He climbed into this swing, and Aphrodite climbed up onto a counter in front of him. She bent over and stuck her ass up in the air, in the exact path he would be swinging. Aphrodite dripped with anticipation, eager to feel Hephaestus inside her.

She felt his hands grab her ass, and reposition her slightly. He held her firmly with one hand, and used his other hand to guide his cock into her vagina. He slid in smoothly, and they both moaned in unison. Now that he was lined up with her, he started to rhythmically hump her. In. Out. In. Out. In. She backed up against him as much as she could, feeling his cock go deeper. 

"Oh yes, oh yes, oh... oh..."

This felt so good. But then she had an idea to make it even better. She rummaged around with her hand to find the vibrator. She found it and managed to turn it on, struggling to focus with the pleasure she was feeling. She reached the vibrator back to her clit and it buzzed on her.

"Ohhhhhh," she moaned.

"Press the button again," he commanded.

She pressed the button and the vibrator intensity increased.

"Ohhhhh!" She screamed. This felt so good. She had one more idea she wanted to try. 

She cupped the vibrator in her hand and reached back even further. She felt around for his balls, finding them as they slapped against her. She lightly cupped them with her hand and the vibrator. This pleasure sent Hephaestus past his climax. He moaned loudly. Aphrodite could feel his cock throb inside her as he came.

Hearing him cum like this turned her on, enough to make her cum as well.

"I'm cumming! Oh, oh, oh," she moaned.

Waves of pleasure crashed through her body. A feeling she knew intimately. This was her realm. She was the Goddess of Love.

Hephaestus and Aphrodite finished, and cleaned up. Their skin was still flushed. 

"I'm always happy when you visit, Aphrodite. Thanks for thinking of me when you wanted to share the news about your new favorite couple. Andromache and Hector, right?"

"Right! I'm surprised you remembered. I can hardly think, thanks to that thing..." She pointed at the vibrator. "This was a masterful invention. You completely understand me!" She leaned over and kissed him again. He blushed, then beamed with pride.

"Thank you, Aphrodite! Please feel free to come visit again any time."

She started to walk away. He stared at the way her legs and butt moved as she walked.

"Aren't you forgetting something?" 

"Oh, right!" She made another pose, and a brilliant ray of light emerged from her. Aphrodite was back in her iconic dress. She blew a kiss, then left.

Chapter Text

The Trojan War continued. Neither side could muster the advantage to clear out the other. Skirmishes repeated over and over the next couple months, but there was no substantial territory change. 

From the perspective of the Achaeans, their options had become limited. Odysseus had noted that their defeat at the Trojan encampment was a complete waste, and tried to avoid any more mistakes in the future. His new goal was to curb any expansion attempts by the Trojans. He assigned scouts to monitor the Trojan encampments. Whenever the scouts detected that the Trojans might be pushing out more than they should be, they alerted Odysseus and the Achaeans made an attack. Winning out in the open was possible, but attempting another attack was discouraged.

From the perspective of the Trojans, leaving their fortified position was a mistake. Their battles with their fortifications on their side heavily favored them, but if they tried to push out, the Achaeans would overwhelm them. Building new walls was time and labor intensive, so expanding their existing encampment was unfeasible. Additionally, every step they took closer to the main Achaean camp was a step further away from safety. Even when they had successful battles out in the open, diving headfirst into danger was too risky. King Priam urged the Trojans to not throw away their lives on foolish attempts. And so the Trojans maintained their territory.

Months passed. Andromache grew through the different stages of pregnancy. Hector tried to stay with her as much as possible, but the war called him away often. His homecomings were even more special now. Andromache would show Hector how she was progressing, and he would stare in amazement.

Andromache reached the third trimester. She could feel the fetus inside her growing, and her heart glowed with hope and joy.

"Hector, come over here," she called out to him.

He walked over, and she placed his hand on her womb. They touched their foreheads.

"Do you feel? Our child is growing in there. Any week now may be the time!"

He felt a kick!

"The next Prince of Troy. I pray that they will grow up in a time of peace."

More weeks went by, and soon enough the time came for Andromache to give birth. For this final stage, Hector stayed with her; he would not even let the war separate them. He held her hand as she went through labor, giving her as much support as he could. But this feat all came from Andromache. She pushed through her contractions, and caught her breath between them. This was the most pain she had ever felt. The pain went to her head, and drove her into a sort of adrenaline rush. She screamed. She prayed to the gods. She squeezed Hector's hand. Finally, her child was born. A boy! She clutched him to her chest. The gods must have granted their favor on her; Andromache did not suffer from any complications. She was luckier than most. Hector and Andromache wept with joy. Their son was born!

Their family soon entered. King Priam held the boy for a moment, his heart full of hope and pride.

"What is his name?" King Priam asked.

"Astyanax," Andromache answered.

"Astyanax... a good name. I am proud of you, Andromache. Thank you for bringing this boy into our family. He represents the hope of Troy."

He laughed with joy. "One day, perhaps, he will become more glorious in battle than Prince Hector!"

"I pray that when he is old enough, there will be no battles for him to find," Hector replied.

"Of course, my son. I pray for that too."

Over the next couple of days, family members of Hector and Andromache paid their visit to the new parents and greeted Astyanax. Helen and Paris came to visit too.

Andromache and Hector's relationship with Helen and Paris was complicated at best. They were family, and they supported them. But at the same time, Paris offering the Apple of Discord to Aphrodite had gotten them all into this war. But Paris was a Prince of Troy, and Troy would rise up to defend him. 

Additionally, it was difficult to bear any ill feelings towards Helen. She was strikingly beautiful, to the point where most people had to actively avert their eyes to stop from staring. Everything about her exuded an aura of beauty and fairness: Her posture, her voice, her laughter, the way her hair fell into place, the burning sensation that direct eye contact with her would bring. On top of that, she was incredibly patient and understanding. Throughout her entire adult life, she had grown accustomed to people making absolute fools of themselves in her presence. She actively watched as people lost their thoughts mid sentence, stuttered over their words, made grand gestures, or pledged undying loyalty to her mere minutes after meeting them. Helen carried the burden of beauty with grace, which made her even more beautiful. 

Paris was the one that treated Helen exactly as she wanted to be treated. He was still mystified by her presence, of course, but he understood her in a way that no one else did. His love for her was shown in thoughtfulness and care that extended beyond her beauty. With him, she felt as if he loved her no matter what, even if her beauty were to fade somehow. And she loved him.

Hector and Andromache treated Helen normally, relative to most people, anyway. Something that helped was that Hector and Andromache only had eyes for each other, and they did not lust after Helen. They had become great friends to her in her time at Troy. She was overjoyed that her friend, Andromache, had given birth. Helen held the baby in her arms.

"Astyanax? A name fit for a prince! But are you going to call him that every time? He needs a nickname! Help me think of something," Helen said. Asty? Anax? How about Asty as a cute name, and then we call him Astyanax the rest of the time?"

The rest of them murmured in agreement. Helen passed the baby to Paris.

"Welcome to the family, Baby Asty!" He smiled. "Andromache and Hector, I'm so happy for you two."

Over the next couple of weeks, Andromache and Hector cared for Baby Asty as he grew. The days and nights were long, and taking care of a baby was hard work. Thankfully, their friends and family gave them support. Helen and Paris would look after Baby Asty when needed, allowing Hector and Andromache some much needed rest. King Priam assigned servants to make sure that they had all of the food and supplies they needed. The weeks went on, and it was easy to forget that there was a war going on.

One night, Hector awoke in a cold sweat. His heart was wracked with guilt and fear. 

"My soldiers. My men... They're still down there. They need my help."

Andromache woke up to comfort him.

"You have helped them so much already, Hector. You have a son now. Rest now. They will be fine down there."

Hector stood up and shook his head.

"No, it's not fair for me to stay up here while they suffer down there. I want them to be better than fine. I want them to be well." He walked over to Asty, asleep in his crib. Hector gently looked at him, tears of joy starting to well in his eyes.

"I want him to grow up in peace. I want him to grow up safe. I need this war to end, for his sake."

Andromache looked at him solemnly.

"I will make preparations to get back out there," Hector said. "I am going to end this war." His eyes were filled with a resolve unlike any he had shown before. He was ready.

Chapter Text

The camp of Achilles and the Myrmidons was sheltered from the war, and life was pleasant here. The Trojans were contained to their encampment, so there was no threat of attack. And even if the Trojans decided to push out and attack, their primary target would be the main camp of Agamemnon. In terms of being bothered by the rest of the Achaeans, Achilles had made himself clear. He would not fight for Agamemnon. 

Months passed in the camp, the days spent in relative leisure. They still needed to forage, hunt, and fish for food, and they still needed to complete their chores to keep the camp in working order. But compared to the fighters in the war, the Myrmidons lived in luxury. They would play games, such as games of strategy or games of chance. They also competed with each other in athletic events. These competitions provided some welcome entertainment, but also kept the Myrmidons at their athletic height. Events included running sprints, long distance races, swimming races, javelin throwing, mock fights, and others. While they were bored earlier in the war, their new list of events kept them active and busy.

Men were racing others on the beach. They were running quickly, exercising hard enough that all of their energy was dedicated to this race. There was no breath or energy available to chat. Their speeds varied, with some accelerating while others lagged behind. One of them took the lead. Patroclus! His legs surged, and he felt them carry him forward with increasing speed. He felt the bottoms of his feet sink into the sand, the grains crunching against each other, sapping his momentum. His training kicked in. He had enough strength to keep running through the sand. The finish line grew closer and closer. Just one more push. With the finish line in sight, Patroclus opened into a sprint. He felt his muscles tingle with euphoria, entering a runner's high. His mind floated above his body, and his muscle memory took over. At last, he crossed the finish line.

"Patroclus wins!"

He slowed down to a stop, panting to catch his breath. The scowl of exercise slowly started to fade. His skin was drenched in sweat, and he saw drips fall into the sand. A breeze blew past, and he felt a pleasant chill as the breeze met his sweat. After several more breaths, a smile of pride spread across his face. He turned to the organizer of the race. Achilles!

Achilles walked over, and gave Patroclus a pat on the back. Patroclus reciprocated the gesture.

"Congratulations, my friend! How are you feeling?" Achilles asked.

Patroclus, still winded, only managed out one word:

"Tired."

Achilles laughed. "Ha! Of course you are. Look at how quickly you finished the race. You really gave it your all!"

Patroclus smiled. He turned his gaze to the racetrack, and watched his fellow Myrmidons finish the race.

"Well done, everyone! Grand show, all around. Feel free to rest, then tonight we celebrate!"

Patroclus and Achilles left together. The first thing Patroclus wanted to do was clean up. Achilles joined, and they chatted as they walked. The two of them removed their clothes and got their water ready. The general plan was to use several buckets, one with soapy water, one with clean rinse water, and an extra to drain into. Patroclus and Achilles sponged themselves for the most part, it was clear that this was their typical pattern.

"Achilles?" 

"Yes?"

"Do you think you could get my back? I'll get yours after."

Achilles approached him and stood behind him. For a couple seconds, he simply stared at the way Patroclus's skin was caked with dried sweat.

"Are you going to start?"

"Oh... yes. Sorry, I was just thinking of something." Achilles started to scrub. After he was done, he squeezed the rinse sponge and watched the water flow down Patroclus's back. Then he turned around, and let Patroclus clean him.

"So, what were you thinking about?"

Achilles felt Patroclus's sponge brush across his back.

"Oh... um. I'll tell you later."

"Fair enough."

Patroclus finished cleaning Achilles, and then rinsed him. Then they separated, dried off, and got dressed. 

The rest of the day passed in peace. As the sun started going down, the Myrmidons began their celebrations. Casks of wine were opened and shared around. Achilles met Patroclus.

"No wine tonight?" He asked.

"Not this time," Patroclus replied. "I'm drunk enough from the race!"

Achilles laughed.

"Don't worry, I'm not drinking either."

Spirits flew high. Their campfires burned brightly. Food was shared all around. Games were played. Songs were sung.

Achilles and Patroclus laughed and joked with each other. After several hours, the energy of the night had started to fade.

"So, maybe we should retire for the night?"

"Sure."

They walked to Achilles's tent together, and sat down in separate places. Unexpectedly, Patroclus stood up, and then sat by Achilles on his bed.

"Hey. Glad you came over."

"I was just remembering. You never told me what you were thinking about."

Achilles paused, and remembered.

"Right." He looked down at his feet. "I was thinking about the sweat on your back after the race."

Patroclus replied with a puzzled look. "What about it?"

"I wanted to... I don't know. It's hard to explain. I wanted to feel it. I wanted to feel you."

Achilles was nervous. He didn't know how Patroclus would react to this. He waited in silence. Their eyes met. Patroclus smiled.

Patroclus leaned forward and kissed him. They tasted each other's lips, and Patroclus applied the perfect amount of pressure. They parted and stared at each other again.

Patroclus turned his gaze to the wall, and noticed the Armor of Achilles displayed. He pointed over to it.

"Do you ever think about the war? About fighting again? About putting your armor back on?"

Now Achilles was confused. They had just kissed and now Patroclus was talking about his armor.

"Why are you bringing this up now?"

"I have been thinking about things for a long time now. Tonight felt like the best time to be honest. For me to ask my questions," Patroclus explained.

"You already know why it remains there. You know why we don't fight."

"I know, it just seems a waste to see your armor sit unused." 

Patroclus kissed him again.

"Let's get back to what we were doing. Forget I brought it up."

Patroclus placed his hands on Achilles's thighs. 

"I have been wanting to feel you too. Deeply."

"You're sure?"

"I am. My feelings for you have only grown throughout our years living here."

Patroclus slid his hands from the thighs and slowly made his way to the crotch. Achilles felt a pleasant tingle at the touch. He felt himself get hard as Patroclus slid his hands closer.

They were both still wearing clothes, so Patroclus was still feeling over the fabric. Despite this, he could feel Achilles's hard cock with his hands. He smiled, and started to rub back and forth. Achilles pulled Patroclus closer, wrapping his arms around him, and kissed him more. With this, Patroclus moved his hands to the back of Achilles's head, running his hands through his hair.

Soon, they fell back onto the bed. Their faces were locked together, but the rest of their bodies thrashed about, rolling together. They had started humping in rhythm, feeling the pleasant pressure of their crotches pressing up against each other. At last, it was time to disrobe.

Achilles grabbed the fasteners of Patroclus's clothes, his fingers trembling with excitement. He was so excited, he had to try a couple times. Patroclus did the same. Achilles felt Patroclus tug and pull at his clothes, eventually removing them.

They were both naked now. Although they had seen each other naked hundreds of times before already, this context felt different. Without touching, they looked each other up and down. They noticed their definitions of muscles, thoughts racing through their minds, wondering about how it would feel to explore deeper. Patroclus turned around.

"Achilles, here is the sweat that you were so curious about," he joked. Achilles chuckled, then pressed his body against his back. Their bare skin stuck together, slightly damp with sweat. Patroclus pressed his ass against Achilles's crotch. He could feel Achilles's hard cock rub between his ass cheeks. Blood rushed throughout his body, his face blushing, and his cock hard. Patroclus turned his head to Achilles behind him, and whispered in his ear.

"Are you ready, Achilles?"

"Yes," Achilles responded.

Patroclus laid Achilles onto the bed on his back. He climbed onto Achilles, straddling his ass over his cock. There was a container of oil near by. Patroclus pumped some out and coated Achilles's cock with it. He stroked it up and down, and Achilles started to moan. Patroclus kept adding oil to stroke with. Achilles matched this, using his hand to spread oil from his cock to Patroclus. They both moaned as they stroked each other.

Patroclus raised himself up higher, centering his ass over Achilles. He slowly started to slide over his cock, sliding smoothly with the oil. At last, his anus was perfectly lined up with the tip of Achilles's cock. He slowly descended on it, feeling himself get filled up. Achilles screamed in pleasure. They went slowly at first, finding a rhythm together. Patroclus rode Achilles on top of him. They kept going and going until Achilles came. Patroclus felt Achilles cum, and watched how his body squirmed in pleasure. He came shortly after.

After a few moments coming down from their orgasms, they set out to get cleaned up. Once everything had been cleaned, they found each other to cuddle and fall asleep.

"Achilles?"

"Yes, Patroclus?"

"I'm glad I won that race today."

Achilles laughed. "It always feels good to win, right?"

"I mean, yes. That. But I meant because we got to wash together afterwards."

Achilles laughed again. "Me too." He kissed him once more.

They fell asleep in each other's arms.

Chapter Text

Prince Hector had made his way to the Trojan forward encampment. The men there were not expecting him at such an early hour. After he was spotted approaching, the sentries alerted their friends and the news spread in hushed excitement.

"Prince Hector! Welcome back. On behalf of all of us, congratulations to you and Andromache. The gods have blessed Troy with a new prince!"

Cheers rang out, and Hector smiled. He waved, and prepared to address them.

"Trojans! My brothers! I have returned from Troy to help us finally end this war. I want my son to live in a time of peace. Let us move forward, and rid the Achaeans from our lands!" More cheers rang out. Hector stepped down, and worked to prepare with his officers.

"We have been doing a good job holding this position, Hector. But when we try to advance, we get overwhelmed, and have to retreat. It's been this way for months."

"Hmm, yes. Odysseus has learned that he can't attack us directly. He only strikes when he has an advantage. He wields his army with a deft mind," Prince Hector replied. He thought for a few moments.

"I have an idea."

Time was on their side. The Trojans waited until nightfall before moving out. Prince Hector volunteered to join the first strike force. He was clad in armor, and wielded a sword and shield. No spears for this attack, as formations wouldn't be used. They were to strike quickly and directly. 

Prince Hector and his men hopped over the encampment wall at an unassuming flank. If an army were to leave the encampment, it would not be through this path. This allowed them onto the open plain without being detected. They traversed through the darkness for a long distance, until the torches from their encampment were barely in view.

"This should be the distance the scouts are away from our wall. Now, let us traverse parallel to the wall until we find them," Prince Hector whispered. They shuffled forward, keeping their footsteps quiet. Eventually, they saw a pair of Achaean scouts, with their gaze fixed on the Trojan encampment. Even if the scouts had seen the Trojans approaching, they wouldn't have stood a chance. They were quickly cut down. Screams rang out.

"There are likely to be more Achaeans that come and investigate this. Prepare to fight," Prince Hector whispered. Surely enough, another patrol found them. Instead of a pair of scouts, there were four Achaean soldiers. They put up more of a fight, but the Trojans promptly defeated them as well, suffering no losses.

"Now, back to camp. We will defend there."

Prince Hector and his men slinked back into the shadows. At camp they enjoyed some food and rest, waiting for the next day and the counterattack.

The sun rose, and Rosy-Fingered Dawn stretched across the sky. Odysseus was awake, waiting to hear back from his forward patrol. Hours went by. Nobody came. His heart dropped. 

"Our scouts are dead," he told his crew. "That's why they have not returned. It appears as though Prince Hector has finally left his walls. I imagine he is on his way now. Let us prepare to meet him!"

The Achaean army rallied together and departed. After months of small skirmishes, they braced their hearts for a large battle. But they did not meet any resistance. They kept marching and marching until they found their dead scouts. But no Trojans...

Odysseus looked at the Trojan encampment in the distance. He saw them ready. Their formations were braced, and their weapons were at the ready. Attacking them now would be folly.

"It's a trick! They are trying to bait us to attack their wall! Do not engage them. We will only fight when we can win!" Odysseus yelled. The soldiers grumbled, but began to shamble back. They recovered the bodies of the scouts, and Odysseus ordered more scouts to replace them.

Another day went by. The forward scouts came and went as intended. More days went by with no new reports. Soon enough, it had been a week since the first scouts were killed. Finally, Odysseus awoke to late reports.

"Another group of dead scouts. Let's get prepared."

The Achaeans marched forward again and found the same exact thing as last time. The Trojans were ready to defend against anything now.

"Damn them! Another trick! My soldiers, do not fall for their ploy! Let us retreat." The Achaeans grumbled again. Two dead groups of scouts and no battle. Nevertheless, they retreated.

Another week went by. Odysseus was trying to find a pattern with these attacks. But his information kept arriving. The Trojans just stayed in their position. 

"It's not happening every week. Are these attacks random? I don't understand his plan. Does he expect to win the war by killing a handful of scouts over and over?"

Another day went by. Another daily report. The next day, the scouts did not return. Odysseus sighed.

"Prepare for battle, Achaeans. Our scouts have perished!"

The soldiers were losing their patience. 

"Every time we go to meet them in battle we find them fortified! This is a fool's errand. They are wasting our time," Eurylochus said. Odysseus was losing his patience too.

"That's exactly what they want us to think! How do you know their entire army isn't marching this way as we speak? They were tricking us to prepare for the true attack," Odysseus explained. 

"Very well, Captain. We will go."

The Achaeans marched forward. They marched at a slog, expecting their efforts to be wasted again. Their expectations came true. There were the Trojans, braced at the ready.

"Ugh! Let's just attack them and be done with this," said Eurylochus.

"No! Remember what happened last time we attacked. All we'll get is spears in our hearts. Don't let their tactics get to you," Odysseus commanded. They grumbled once again, but they agreed. Better to waste time walking back and forth than to meet certain death impaled by a spear. They walked back to camp, with Odysseus lingering for a while, staring at Prince Hector.

"What are you doing?" He asked the open air, as if asking the question to both Hector and himself.

The next day, the scouts did not return. This had broken the pattern. Normally the Trojans waited days before killing another set of scouts. This was more urgent.

"Achaeans! The Trojans have killed our scouts once again. There was no delay this time. We need to prepare," Odysseus announced. The soldiers stared at him, continuing their normal activities.

"Did you hear me? The scouts were killed! Prince Hector is probably on his way now! We can't let him reach the main camp," Odysseus continued. The soldiers looked up at him again, but did not heed his commands. 

"Captain, how many times are you going to fall for their tricks? They are just messing with us. They just want to waste our efforts."

"I know, but this time they didn't wait! They broke the pattern. They are coming!"

"Captain, please. They wouldn't dare attack our main camp. We are fine out here."

Odysseus became extremely frustrated.

"We are going to lose this war because of your laziness. Prepare to fight, now!"

Suddenly, they heard the rumble of footsteps approaching. The Trojans were on their way! The Achaeans panicked, and scrambled to get their armor and weapons ready. 

The Trojans, disciplined and organized, pushed into the Achaean camp with deadly force. Unprepared soldiers were cut down easily. The ones who managed to find weapons were still separated from their allies, and they too fell. The Trojans overturned fires and threw torches on the Achaean supplies. Tents went up in flames. Barrels of rations were ruined. Extra weapons and armor were scattered around. This was a disaster.

"Damn them, damn them," Odysseus muttered. He was one of the few completely prepared for battle. He raised his bow and fired as many arrows into the invaders as possible. His aim was true, and he killed many Trojans. But even his skills were not enough to hold them off. They were losing.

"Crew, retreat to Agamemnon's camp! We've lost this position!" Odysseus yelled.

The Achaeans retreated, and the Trojans kept pushing. They were ready for this. They were prepared. Odysseus wished for a fraction of their discipline with his own men. 

Agamemnon's encampment was also unprepared. Odysseus's crew found little refuge here. The Trojans were still coming. Still killing. Still destroying. The Achaean military strength was in freefall. This could very well have been the end of the war.

But it wasn't. Suddenly, a group of heavily armed soldiers appeared and began fighting the Trojans back. They moved with deadly strength and skill. 

"Achilles!" Odysseus cheered. The man heard him cheer, and raised his sword triumphantly to acknowledge him. He then pointed his sword forward, signaling for the Achaeans to counterattack.

This was the first real resistance the Trojans had experienced in days. Despite their substantial progress, the Myrmidons of Achilles had pushed them out of the camp. Eventually, their leader had isolated Prince Hector.

He lunged at Prince Hector with his spear, moving with poise and precision. Prince Hector barely managed to dodge out of the way. Another strike. Hector blocked it. This time a wide swing of the spear, building up momentum through the air. It smashed on Hector's shield, with enough force to stagger Hector back. With Hector staggered back, the Myrmidon leader stabbed forward with his spear, aiming for a killing blow. Hector tucked his body out of the way, and the spear was driven into the ground. Hector slashed at the spear, breaking it in two. The Myrmidon leader cursed, then drew his sword. A swing, a clash of bronze. Both of them were panting heavily. A swing by Hector this time, deflected off of the Myrmidon's shield. They both took a step back. Staring at each other, trying to anticipate the next move. After a few seconds, the Myrmidon dropped his shield, and gripped his sword with both hands. He charged forward, chopping at Hector with the force of two hands. Hector raised his sword to block it, but the force was immense. He could barely keep hold of it. Strike after strike came, until Hector could grip his sword no more. The sword fell to the ground, and the Myrmidon envisioned his final chop going through Hector's neck. But as his sword was raised high, Hector used his shield to bash him. He staggered back a step, and was bashed again. And again. He was bashed until he fell over onto his back. Now Prince Hector stood over him. They stared at each other, and breathed in exhaustion. 

"I'm sorry..."

Hector slammed the vertical side of his shield into the Myrmidon's neck. He felt his windpipe collapse. He tried to scream in pain, but was physically unable to. Hector slammed his shield down again. And again. And again. Another soul sent to Hades.

Chapter Text

Prince Hector stood over the body of the Myrmidon leader. The battle still raged on, but there was a strange sense of peace around them, as if they were in the eye of a hurricane. He knelt down near the battered corpse to examine it. Hector slowly lifted off the helmet to look at the man's face. Patroclus!

"No..." Hector whispered. He grabbed his sword off of the ground and stood up. He took a couple steps back in disbelief, as if seeing the body from another angle would change things. This was indeed the body of Patroclus.

The Achaeans noticed the leader of the Myrmidons had been killed by Hector. They stared in shock and horror at the sight of their leader's lifeless body. Achilles was supposed to be unkillable...

Then they saw the man's face. Yells of anguish and rage were let out.

"Prince Hector has killed Patroclus!"

They rushed forward to get revenge, and Hector backpedaled enough to merge with his allies.

Another yell was heard in the distance. Everyone, Achaeans and Trojans alike, turned their gaze to see what it was.

Stomping forward with rage was Achilles. Achilles, truly. There was no disguise here. In fact, he hardly wore any clothes at all. He wore only a skirt around his waist fastened by a belt, and leather footwear.

His skin shone in the sunlight, his muscles clenched with rage and frustration. He awoke to his entire camp gone, his soldiers abandoned him.

The Trojans had seen him coming, and carefully retreated backward, keeping their eye on the danger.

"Who the hell decided to go fight... AGAINST MY ORDERS!?" Achilles yelled at the Myrmidons. One of them meekly pointed at the man wearing the Armor of Achilles: Patroclus.

"What?...." Achilles looked at the body with shock, rage, disgust, and despair. He rushed over to it.

"No, no, no, no..." he muttered to himself, over and over. He knelt near the body of Patroclus, and held his battered head in his arms.

"NOOOOOOO!" he yelled. Achilles pressed his forehead to Patroclus's forehead, his eyes filled with tears. The blood from Patroclus got smeared on Achilles, while the tears of Achilles fell on his lifeless face. He kept his forehead pressed to him and wept uncontrollably, his entire body shaking. After a few minutes, he angrily glared at the Trojans. This was their fault. He gave out another scream, this time in rage, and started running at them single handedly.

The Trojans had a head start and were away from danger for now, but seeing Achilles run at them sent them into a true terror. They broke their formation, and did everything they could to run away. Their feet stomped on the ground. The screams of rage of Achilles could be heard behind them, getting closer and closer every few seconds. Eventually, the screams were farther away. He had stopped!

"Keep going, all the way to the city," Hector ordered.

"But Prince Hector, our encampment. Surely we can defend there?"

"No. This is Achilles. He has stayed out of the war until now. But now that he has joined, we can't fight him out here. We need the walls of Troy. They are our best hope."

The Trojans reached their old encampment, scrambling to salvage any supplies they could, and then they left. Their encampment looked like the skeleton of a dead animal, its bones picked clean. The Trojans marched for Troy nonstop. They were exhausted, but they knew the urgency of the situation. Achilles was unstoppable.

The Trojans reached the city, the mighty gates wrapping around them with its protection. Hector shambled up to the palace. He collapsed in front of his father, King Priam.

"I killed him... I killed him," Hector muttered.

King Priam looked at Hector with understanding, allowing him the time he needed to unravel. After a few minutes, Hector was able to collect himself.

"Father. I killed Patroclus, not Achilles. I had thought for a moment that the war was won. Now, Achilles will fight for revenge. I don't know what to do."

A woman's voice echoed through the hall.

"I have foreseen this. The Song of Rage has reached the heavens. Achilles is the herald. Troy is to be destroyed."

They turned their gaze to the source of the voice, a woman dressed in priestess robes.

Behold, Cassandra of Troy! Cursed with the power to see the future, and cursed to have no one believe her.

"Fear not, Cassandra," King Priam said. "Our walls will hold firm. He is just one man."

Cassandra shook her head. "I'm telling you, it's over now. This is the will of the gods."

"I have lived my life in accordance with the will of the gods, and they have not abandoned me yet. We will win."

Cassandra sighed, and left.

"Rest now, Prince Hector. You will need your strength."

"Very well, father."

Hector left, and slowly walked to his quarters.

Andromache was sitting in a chair breastfeeding Baby Asty when Hector arrived. He looked as though he had been cursed. The expression on his eyes stared off into the distance.

"Hector!"

His expression turned back into focus when he saw her, and he let out a sigh of relief.

"Andromache..." he softly whispered. He walked over and gave both her and the baby a hug. He looked at his son with joy. It was overwhelming. He started to weep.

"How many sons have I killed? How many were babes just like ours, before the grasp of war ripped them from their mothers? How many more need to die?"

Andromache stared at her husband, feeling the pain he felt.

"You are a good man, Hector. You are a good husband, a good father, and a good warrior. Remember that."

He met her gaze, his face still red and flushed.

"I'm not sure how much longer I can go on. I'm not sure if I can hold this strength."

"Sit with me, tell me everything that's on your mind."

And so the family sat together, with Hector recounting everything that had happened to him since their last time together. He spoke of the crest of victory, he spoke of his duel with Patroclus, and he spoke of the rage of Achilles. He was afraid.

She put her hand on his neck gently, and tilted his head so their eyes met again.

"You have been through so much. More than most. More than you deserve. Let us sleep now. Asty needs to sleep, too."

Andromache set their son to sleep, and climbed into bed with Hector. They both needed this rest.

Hector opened his eyes, and found himself in a grand waiting room, clearly some sort of palace. He looked around, and could not see any windows, only hanging torch scones glowing with an ethereal light. The flames were green, and the light they produced was otherworldly. This place felt unnatural. Empty. He looked around more, and the room he was in appeared to be a perfect square, with consistently space columns. He saw no signs of any sort of entrance or exit.

"Hi!" A cheerful voice said behind him. Then a yawn.

"Welcome..." Another yawn. "...to the House of Hades!"

Hector spun around to see a strangely familiar looking god. He had seen this god before in his dreams.

"Do I know you?" Hector asked.

"Everyone knows me! Everyone that sleeps, anyway. I'm Hypnos, the God of Sleep!"

Hector slowly blinked, and struggled not to yawn himself.

"Why am I here?"

"Well, from my end, it's that mortals are a lot easier to talk to in dreams. So I brought you in here. As for the bigger question, I feel like you deserve some answers from the big man, himself!"

Hector slowly blinked at him. Suddenly Hades, the God of the Dead, appeared. He set his Helmet of Invisibility on the ground near him and sat down.

"You're afraid," said Hades. His voice was rich, deep, and dark. It was as if someone was speaking deeply in a tremendous cavern, and the voice had echoed to the cave entrance. There was ruthlessness in his voice. Despair. Anguish. But also compassion.

"You're afraid," Hades repeated. "I know this. Tell me why."

Hector trembled in fear. He struggled to collect himself and his thoughts, and then replied.

"I don't want to die."

Hades blinked, with an unexpected understanding.

"What did you think was going to happen to you?"

"Well, I know every mortal dies. But there was so much more I wanted to do. So many more things I have to do. My people need my help. My wife needs me. My son needs me. I'm not ready to die."

Hades blinked again.

"I understand. You are afraid. That's why I pulled you in here. I want you to be prepared. I want to bring you some peace before you join us."

Hector was still in shock. He sat there in disbelief. Hades radiated an imposing aura that inspired a feeling of dread, but was strangely comforting.

"So, what happens now?"

"I will show you." Hades stretched out his hand and placed it on Hector's chest, over Hector's heart.

His heart started convulsing, pumping blood rapidly through his body. The touch of Hades instilled a feeling of dread into his blood, pumping through his body like an inky black ichor. This dread was deeply unsettling, a feeling that he had never felt before in the natural world. His muscles started to spasm, and he lost control of his body. His pupils dilated massively. He noticed the blood vessels on the surface of his skin swell and expand. Suddenly, it felt like he was falling through a bottomless cavern. He fell faster and faster, feeling his internal organs float out of place. He tried to scream, but no air would enter his lungs. His mind left him. He had no idea how long he had been falling. All of his senses began to slip away. Then, he felt as though his body hit the ground from this fall, an ultimate slam, crushing every bit of him at once. This was the end. Finally, it was over.

He was back in the House of Hades. He gasped for air, an inhale as though he had just stopped drowning. He sat there breathing in panic for a few seconds, finally collecting himself. It felt as though he had been born anew.

"What was that!?" Hector asked in a shattered voice.

Hades sat there for a couple of seconds. He intentionally waited, allowing Hector's senses to return to him. Finally, he answered:

"I have instilled in you the dread of death."

Hector, still shaken, managed to speak again.

"Why?"

"This is my favor. I have given you this dread now, so that you will have nothing to fear when your time truly comes. Now you understand."

The three of them sat there in silence for several minutes. With every passing second, he felt his spirits improve. He finally understood. The dread of death was the worst thing Hector felt. But now, he had felt it. It was already over. Now, he felt truly free.

"Thank you, Lord Hades. I finally understand."

Hades nodded.

"And thanks to you as well, Hypnos. You are the one who brought me here."

"Of course! Now, it's time for your sleep to end. Farewell."

Hector closed his eyes. He opened them again, and he found himself back in his own bed. He looked over to Andromache, sleeping peacefully. He looked over to his son, Astyanax. He smiled. He was home.

Chapter Text

Andromache woke up several hours after Hector. She sat up, stretching her arms and yawning. He wasn't in bed. She looked around, and saw Hector holding Astyanax. She smiled.

"Hey," she said, still sleepy. "Good morning! How long have you been up?" 

He smiled at her. "Not too long. I had time for a bath, and then I have been here with Asty until you woke up."

"How's he doing?"

"Still asleep. I just wanted to hold him."

Andromache got up and stretched. Her breasts were full and aching.

"Could you bring him here? I want to feed him."

"Of course!"

Hector walked over and passed Astyanax to Andromache. She slipped her dress down and started breastfeeding. The family sat together in peaceful silence for a while.

"Are you tired? I noticed you thrashing in your sleep. Were you having a nightmare?" Andromache asked.

Hector paused. He remembered his experience with Hades, and tried to find a way to put it into words.

"Sort of... it was awful. A nightmare. I felt like I was dying. But then it ended, and I'm here. And it made me appreciate life so much more!"

"That does sound awful. You don't have to share the details. I'm glad it ended up okay, though! I was worried that if I woke you up it would interrupt something."

"I'm not sure I could have even been woken up. I think I was down until whatever vision I had was done with me," Hector said. "But let's talk about something else," he quickly added. 

Andromache could tell that he didn't want to relive whatever nightmare he had. She thought of something else, something that would definitely make him feel better.

"Sooooo, I was thinking... Maybe after breakfast, we could bring Asty over to Helen's. She's offered to watch him for the day," Andromache said. "I was thinking it would be nice to spend some time together, just the two of us..." She winked.

"Absolutely," said Hector. "I've been meaning to try out something new with you."

"Oh?" She raised her eyebrow. "What is it?"

"That will be a surprise," Hector said. He winked back. Andromache giggled.

"Asty's almost done. Let's bring him over to Auntie Helen."

The family walked to the other end of the palace where Helen lived. When Helen saw them enter, she threw open her arms for a hug.

"Come in, come in! Hector, I'm so glad to see you're okay. I heard about what happened with... actually, um, nevermind. Um. It's so good to see you," said Helen. 

"Don't worry about it. I get what you are trying to say. It's good to see you, too," Hector replied.

"Thanks again for taking him, Helen," said Andromache. "It will be so nice for Hector and I to-"

"Ah!" Helen covered her eyes. "Don't tell me. I know all about married couples."

Andromache laughed. "I was going to say: spend some time together. You're the one who jumped to conclusions," Andromache teased.

"Fair enough. Alright, pass him over." Helen took Asty from Andromache's arms. "Have fun, you two! Don't come back for a long time." She winked. 

They blushed shyly. They bid Helen and Astyanax goodbye, then left. 

Soon, Hector and Andromache were home. It was just the two of them, together. They spent the walk home holding each other's hands. Andromache led Hector to the bathroom. She stripped off her dress in front of him. Hector took his clothes off as well. They stood together there, looking at each other's naked bodies.

"Sooooo... I know you already had a bath. But, maybe you'd like to give me a bath?" Andromache stretched her arms into the air as if she was yawning. Lifting her arms like this also lifted her chest and breasts higher. The view was titillating. She knew what she was doing, and smirked as she watched Hector stare at her breasts.

"Hector? You didn't answer. Ready to give me a bath?"

"No."

"No?" She raised her eyebrow, not expecting this answer. She was expecting him to wash her body, imagining his hands spread the warm water over her skin.

"No. I'm not going to give you a bath."

"But Hector, I haven't had a bath in days!"

He grinned. "Exactly."

Andromache immediately understood. She cackled with glee and wrapped her arms around him.

"Oh, you want to smell me, huh?" She teased.

He hugged her back, reaching his arms around her, grabbing the back of her hips. He grabbed her and pulled her closer. Their bare skin stuck together, he felt her breasts press against his chest. 

"Of course, I do!" He tilted his face down, nuzzling his nose into her neck and chest. He took a deep breath, taking her all in. 

"You smell amazing," he growled.

She giggled. She stuck her face forward, sticking her nose near his ear and hair. She took a big sniff. 

"You smell good, too," she softly whispered in his ear. 

The hair on the back of his neck stood up. She felt him get hard, feeling him grow with their bodies touching. She knew exactly what to do to get him excited. She kissed his ear, then his cheek, then his lips. They lingered together, feeling each other's soft lips with their own. Then, they opened their eyes and looked into each other's eyes. Andromache smirked and bit her lip. She darted her eyes to their bed, as if gesturing for Hector to bring her there. With his hands around the back of her hips, she jumped and wrapped her legs around his waist. Her arms wrapped around his shoulders from their hug, and he held her up by gripping his hands on her ass. He carried her over to their bed, and with every step he took, she kissed his neck. 

Hector arrived at their bed, with Andromache in his arms. He gently placed her there, and she pulled him down by his shoulders while she leaned back. He leaned into this, and climbed over and on top of her. His chest towered over her face, and she looked him up and down. His powerful chest tightened, his muscles stretching and loosening as moved her around. The partially curled position his body was in caused his abs to flex. She ran her hand over his abs, tracing the ridges and bumps, working her hand down lower and lower towards his crotch. With her hand curled upward, she grabbed the shaft of his cock and began stroking it back and forth. He grunted and moaned with pleasure. With her stroking him like this, he steadied his pose, allowing her to keep going. 

"Oh, Andromache," he moaned.

He held himself up with one hand, and he ran his hand through her hair with the other. Soon, he lowered himself onto her, and began kissing her collarbone and chest. With this readjustment, she switched from stroking him to running her hands across his back. With every kiss, he made his way lower and lower on her body. He buried his face into her breasts, and inhaled deeply, intoxicated by the scent of his wife. She felt the air travel across her skin and into his nostrils. He continued kissing her breasts, giving special attention to her nipples.

"Yes, yes, yes," she moaned, as his lips wrapped around her nipples. 

Hector moaned with pleasure and satisfaction, the sound slightly muffled by Andromache's breasts.

After he had satisfied himself on her breasts, he continued further down, kissing her lower ribcage, kissing her abs, then kissing her pelvis. He shifted his body down, then rested his head between her legs. 

With Hector down like this, Andromache curled upwards, propping herself up on her elbows. She leaned up like this so it would be easier to look at him. The bottom half of his face was hidden by her crotch, but the top half of his face lingered, just staring up at her. His eyes were locked with hers. His gaze was stunning. But he wasn't kissing or licking her. He was just staring.

"Hector! I'm ready," she told him. He wrapped his arms around her legs and gripped her hips with his hands. He buried his face into her, then took another deep sniff, eager to drink up more of her scent. He began kissing her inner thighs slowly, his lips touching the soft skin. He kissed even closer, but hesitated at her vulva and clit. She noticed him pause, her crotch filling with anticipation. It felt as though she had an extra heart down there, with her vulva pumping with a heartbeat.

"Hector, please..." she whined. She humped her crotch forward, desperately beckoning him. He took another deep sniff.

"Sorry, I just wanted to smell you more. You smell so good, remember?" 

She would have laughed, but she was so full of lust it was hard to focus on anything else.

"I need your tongue on my clit. Now," she demanded.

Hector eagerly dove into her, his wet tongue tasting her clit. She moaned and threw her head back. It felt as though she was waiting for so long, and it was finally happening. She felt him lick her vulva and suck her clit. It felt amazing. She dropped her elbows, and allowed her whole body to lay down. He kissed her vulva with his lips slightly open, the wetness of his mouth adding to the wetness dripping from her. She reached her hands down into his hair, gripping locks of hair and holding him close.

"Oh Hector, yes. Oh yes, oh yes, yes, yessss," she moaned.

"Andromache?"

"Yes?" She answered, panting. "Why did you stop?"

"I'm ready to try something new. I want to finger your ass."

Every part of her was ready. "Yes! Absolutely. I can't wait!"

She turned her hips to their side, intentionally popping her butt out slightly. He began to eat her again, she felt the familiar pleasure of his lips between her legs. He reached his hand down lower, lower it had ever gone. He stretched out a lone finger, and began playing with her asshole. Her asshole quivered. Even this touch on the surface was exciting. Unfamiliar, but exciting. He slowly spiraled her asshole with his finger, making it nice and relaxed.

"Okay Hector, I'm ready."

With the wetness that had dripped down earlier, Andromache had provided natural lubrication for this. Hector slid his finger inside her asshole, curling it slightly towards her vagina. 

"Oh! Oh, oh, oh!" 

"Are you okay?" 

"Oh, yes! Better than okay."

With his finger inside her, he planted his mouth into her vulva again. He extended his tongue, trying to reach inside her vagina. She was getting close. She was going to cum.

"Oh, Hector. Oh, oh, ohhhhhhh..." she moaned. "I'm going to cum!"

The orgasm caused her body to pulsate and flood her senses with pleasure. Her muscles contracted and throbbed. Her anus pulsed and squeezed, gripping his finger tightly. She breathed and panted, her entire body blushing. Hector gently slid his finger out of her, going slow enough to ensure she was comfortable.

Andromache laid there on the bed, still breathing heavily. Her chest heaved up and down as she panted. Tingles of her orgasm continued to travel up and down her body.

"Hector?"

"Yes, love?

"That was incredible."

He smiled at her, his eyes locked with hers. She lost herself in his eyes again, her mind swirling with the experience of his touch, and the orgasm she had just received. She traced her vulva with her fingers, feeling how wet she still was.

"I just want to catch my breath for a few moments," she panted. "Then, we can keep going."

"Perfect."

Hector retreated for a moment; he washed and dried to freshen up. Soon enough, he was back.

"Are you ready?"

"Absolutely."

He climbed onto her again, their bodies finding their way into place with perfect muscle memory. His cock met her vagina in one motion. He lined up his tip for a moment, then slid in.

"Ohhhhhh," he moaned. 

He slowly thrust deeper inside her, filling her completely. Once he was all the way in, he slowly reversed. He kept his tip in always, with his shaft going in and out. He repeated this over and over, going slightly faster and harder with every thrust.

"Oh, Hector, yes!" Andromache screamed. She wrapped her legs around him, pushing him even closer to her, and getting him even deeper. A new idea came to her. She lifted up one leg and kept the other leg on the bed, her butt was now lifted off the bed slightly. She grabbed his hand and guided it to her ass.

"You know what to do," she murmured, her voice bubbling with pleasure.

A fire burned in his eyes, and he began to play with her asshole again. The difference now was that he was fucking her vagina too. Suddenly, his finger entered her asshole. 

"Oh!" 

She was completely filled. She felt his cock go deep inside her vagina, and his finger was being squeezed tightly by her ass. Her mind was completely dedicated to lust. It occupied every thought she could make. 

"I'm going to cum!" They said it in unison. It was rare that they came at the exact same time, but it had happened this time. Somehow, Andromache's second orgasm was even more intense than her first. Hector's orgasm had been built up to something incredibly intense with all of this buildup. Every second that went by since he smelled her had built up to this. The orgasm came with magnificent pleasure, rippling through his body. He slumped over in ecstasy. 

Hector and Andromache panted together. Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale. Once they had caught their breath, they looked into each other's eyes again. A wild grin spread across both of their faces.

"Ready?"

"Yeah."

He removed his finger first, once again going slowly. Then he removed his cock. They were a mess.

"We're going to have to clean that up, aren't we?"

"It was worth it."

The couple spent the next couple minutes cleaning up, chatting, and putting their clothes back on.

"Andromache, I'm never going to forget this."

"Well I would hope not! You were in my asshole," she laughed.

"If that was the last thing I ever do, I would be happy with that."

She glared at him. "That's not funny."

"Right. I only meant that I would cherish our moments together for the rest of my life. I love you."

"I love you, too. But you need to stop talking about dying! Now that we're all cleaned up, let's go pick up Asty."

"Good idea. You lead the way."

She started walking, and he gave her a playful smack on her butt as she went past. She gave a little squeal with delight, and then they were gone.

Chapter Text

Achilles was kneeling on the ground next to the battered body of Patroclus. After he had chased the Trojans away, he returned to hold Patrolcus one last time. Blood had seeped into the soil underneath him, forming a viscous mud. Achilles paid no attention to it. He was only focused on Patroclus. 

Agamemnon crept out of his tent, hearing that the clamor of battle had finally died down. The Trojans had retreated. He examined the damage they had done. Their camp had been devastated. Tents burned, supplies ransacked, weapons broken, soldiers killed. Agamemnon gritted his teeth and tightly balled his hands into fists. He wanted revenge, but this attack was so severe, his forces were in no condition to counterattack. As he examined the camp further, he found Achilles. Agamemnon quickly came up with a plan. He didn't have the strength to fight on his own, but if he could goad Achilles into attacking Troy, his rampage could cause enough destruction for Troy to finally fall.

"So, the mighty Achilles finally decides to join us," Agamemnon cackled. "I'm glad to see Patroclus had the will to fight before you did. It's a shame he died for you, though. I bet he would still be alive if you were here!"

Achilles fumed. These words, in this context, were beyond unacceptable. The rage seeped deep into his bones. This was more than anger. This was hate. Unlike the rage that flashed through the blood and evaporated freely, this hate congealed into something thick, something permanent. It took all of his willpower to not rip Agamemnon limb from limb with his bare hands. He wanted to focus on Patroclus instead. Achilles stayed there, in silence.

Odysseus glared at Agamemnon. 

"What is wrong with you!?" Odysseus yelled at him. "Patroclus saved you! Saved all of us! Troy was poised to flatten us before he showed up. This war was lost without him. How dare you!?"

Agamemnon ignored Odysseus. He grinned wickedly, and called out again.

"Will the mighty Achilles let Troy get away with this transgression? Will he go back and sit like he always does? Or will he do something about it?"

Odysseus rushed over to Achilles and Patroclus. He was also mourning the loss of Patroclus, and so many dead. 

"Achilles, don't listen to him. Agamemnon is vile. Take all of the time you need. Patroclus was a good man."

Achilles slowly looked up at Odysseus, his eyes bloodshot from tears and anger. His lip quivering, he muttered out:

"They will pay for this. I will rip Troy apart brick by brick until they are annihilated."

"Achilles, please. Don't do anything reckless. Troy still has walls. It's over. Let's go home. I need to go home."

"There's no home left for me, Odysseus. I live now for revenge. Stay out of my way."

Achilles stood up, and raced to his chariot. The hooves of the horses rumbled on the ground. Achilles was going to Troy.

Soldiers stood on top of the walls of Troy. They leaned on their spears like crutches, and gripped tight their bows. They were lucky to be alive. But they knew something was coming. Everyone did. They had almost won the war, and now Achilles was coming for revenge. Prince Hector, Andromache, and the baby Astyanax stood on top of the wall with them. Dread filled the air, but their presence provided a sense of hope. 

"Feel not the dread, my fellow Trojans," Prince Hector announced. "I have felt it already. It flowed through me, down to the darkest depths of my heart, and then it passed. For the rest of my life, I will live and fight for all of us, and I will not be afraid."

Achilles arrived to the walls of Troy. He screamed Hector's name, his voice filled with hate. He didn't leave. He would keep screaming until Hector came down. Hector looked down painfully, and prepared to meet him.

Astyanax was being held in his mother's arms. He had been carried by her while his father walked with them. He was happy. Suddenly, a large metal monster reared its head over his face. It was scary! Where did this monster come from? He screamed in terror, and started crying.

Hector withdrew his face from his son, and a pang of sadness rushed into him. His helmet had scared Astyanax. Tears welled up in his eyes. He took off his helmet and bent down to kiss Astyanax again. Astyanax giggled, and his expression turned to joy once he saw his father's face. He happily stretched out his arms, touching Hector's cheeks, nose, and chin. Hector smiled warmly.

"I love you, son. My precious son. Astyanax. I pray that you are blessed with the strength and joy that I have grown with. I am more fortunate than most. I have strength of my own, I have a father who supports me, and most importantly..." Hector paused, and shifted his gaze from Astyanax to Andromache. "...I have my beloved wife, Andromache. Your mother."

Andromache was crying tears of joy. They were slow at first, seeing Hector with her son, but now, they were streaming out of her face.

"I love you, Hector," she sobbed. 

"I love you, Andromache", he replied.

"I love every moment we had together. I will hold onto these memories until the end. I will go forward, unafraid. Farewell, my love."

From Olympus, Aphrodite had been closely watching everything that was happening.  She held onto every word that Andromache and Hector said to each other, and with this departure, Aphrodite burst into tears.

"I love it! I hate it! Why, why, why," she cried. "Why does he have to go?" 

She was sobbing too. She was a mess. "And the baby!? With the helmet? And then when he took off the helmet? It's just too much for me. They love each other so much!" Tears streamed down her face. In a single moment, Andromache, Aphrodite, and Hector had all wept together. 

Hector gathered himself, and he put his helmet back on. A deep exhale. A deep inhale. More deep breaths. Calm entered his mind. Focus. Discipline. This was where his path had led him, and he would proceed ever forward. He tapped his sword and his club attached to his belt, and gripped his shield and spear tightly. Finally, Hector made his way through the gates. Prince Hector.

He stepped out and saw Achilles standing there. His eyes were bloodshot. The last time he saw Achilles, he was only wearing a skirt, belt, and boots. Now, Achilles was adorned in magnificent armor. Divine, even. This was clearly the handiwork of the gods. The light from the sun reflected off of it brilliantly, in contrast to the man underneath, his demeanor grim.

Behind Achilles, Hector could swear he saw the face of Hades, giving him a knowing nod, and beckoning him forward.

"He fought well. He was a skilled warrior, and I respect him even now," Prince Hector announced.

"Crossing him is the greatest mistake you'll ever make," spat Achilles. "Time to die, Prince Hector!"

Achilles rushed forward at tremendous speed, then lunged forward to strike with his spear. Prince Hector barely managed to dodge out of the way. Another strike. Hector blocked it. This time a wide swing of the spear, building up momentum through the air. It smashed on Hector's shield, with enough force to stagger Hector back. With Hector staggered back, Achilles stabbed forward with his spear, aiming for a killing blow. Hector tucked his body out of the way, and the spear was driven into the ground. Hector slashed at the spear, breaking it in two. 

This felt familiar. He had done this before. Patrolcus and Achilles fought with the same style. And yet, there was a new ferocity here. This was more than combat, this was hate.

Prince Hector acted quickly, and slashed forward with his sword. It wrenched into the armor, releasing an awful creaking sound. And yet, Achilles was unscathed. He responded with a firm punch with his broken spear, breaking Hector's nose and staggering him back. Hector tried to gather himself, but Achilles struck out again, this time hitting Hector's shield. The bones in his fingers crunched on the impact, the momentum of his punch being broken on the bronze. Achilles screamed in frustration. His adrenaline and rage hid the pain from him, but he knew that he had just broken his hand. This gave Hector the opportunity he needed to get back on strong footing. 

Hector steadied himself, preparing himself for the next strike from Achilles. With his hand broken, Achilles charged forward with his shield raised, attempting to bash. They collided with each other, a grueling clang rang out. They struggled to stay upright, Achilles pushing forward and Hector resisting. Hector braced the blow with the left side of his body, leaving his sword in his right hand. 

There was so much action, it was hard to see. But he knew that Achilles was using his shield as a weapon. Perhaps a swing from the side could land. Hector swung his sword low, trying to sweep at Achilles's legs. It made contact on the armor, another chilling grinding sound released. Hector tried again, reasoning that must be some sort of joint where the armor was weak. His strike was true! Hector felt his blade cut through the weak joint and continued through to find flesh.

Hector allowed hope to enter his heart. Perhaps Hades had been present to bring Achilles to the Underworld. He had already fought and won against Patroclus. Achilles had broken his hand, and Hector had just felt his sword cut his leg. Perhaps he was going to survive.

But the strike did not appear to do any damage. Hope quickly changed to confusion, confusion changed to frustration. Another strike. This one hit the same area. Surely Achilles would falter. Surely he would go down. But he didn't. Eventually, Hector could resist Achilles's push no longer. It had become too much, and Hector fell over onto his back. He felt his back, neck, and head slam against the ground, knocking the wind out of him.

Achilles now stood over him. Achilles slammed the vertical side of his shield into Hector's neck. He felt his windpipe collapse. He tried to scream in pain, but was physically unable to. Achilles slammed his shield down again. And again. And again. 

Prince Hector was dead.

Chapter Text

Andromache released a bone-chilling scream. She had watched Hector die. Her heart had been ripped from her chest. She collapsed to the ground, barely holding onto Astyanax. She couldn't breathe. The grief was too powerful. It swept through her like a flood of inky black ichor, destroying everything in its path. Her grace, her hope, her love: all destroyed. This was dread.

Her body would not let her die. Involuntarily, she took a huge gulp of air. Her lungs exhaled, and with them, she began to cry. With every breath, it became more intense. She was wheezing, and her entire chest heaved with her sobs. She was broken. Eventually, her and Astyanax were carried away to safety.

Aphrodite had watched the fight. When Hector was killed, she screamed. Her sadness was much different than Andromache's, but it was still sadness. Sadness, and anger.

"This is so unfair!" She screamed. "He was winning! He was going to survive!" A burst of frustration, then tears. "He was going to make it home," she whimpered. "He was going to go back to Andromache. Go back to his son. Now he won't get to..."

Aphrodite buried her face in her hands.

Achilles stepped away from Hector's body. In a strange way, he looked like Patroclus. Battered and broken in the same way. Achilles decided that this was unacceptable. He began to drag Hector's body, eventually reaching his chariot. Achilles roped Hector's ankles together, and tied the other end of the rope to his chariot. Achilles began to ride, dragging the corpse of Hector behind him. The Trojans watched from the top of the wall, their hearts filled with dismay and disgust at the sight of their beloved prince being treated like this.

On Olympus, the God Apollo watched with a scowl across his face. He had favored Troy, and the Trojan's worshipped him as their primary god. Apollo had long basked in the adoration from these mortals. He had provided them with assistance throughout this past decade. Prince Hector had been the pride and hope of Troy, and now he was dead. A shame.

Suddenly, Aphrodite burst into the room.

"Are you seeing this!? This disrespect!?" She yelled, pointing to the sight of Achilles dragging Hector.

Apollo nodded, his face stone, full of frustration and sadness.

"So what are we going to do about it? Can't we do something?"

"Aphrodite, you know how complicated it is for us to interfere directly with these matters. You know how many of the gods favor the Achaeans. This is not as simple as a divine intervention."

Aphrodite paused. She was still frustrated, but she understood. "Okay, yes. I agree. We shouldn't go killing anyone. That would bring us too much attention. But you're the God of Archery, right? I have a plan."

"I'm listening..."

Prince Paris stood atop the wall. He had watched his brother die just below. His brother. Hector had saved Paris countless times, and stood with him for all of these years. He stood for Troy. And now he was gone. Paris wept.

"A better son than I..."

But then a sudden wave of resolve entered him. It was foreign to him, as though it came from an outside source. He would avenge his brother. He would avenge his people. He was finally ready to make his family proud. Paris grabbed his bow, equipped his quiver, and stepped away.

"Where are you going?" Helen asked, tears in her eyes. With Hector gone, she had lost family too. She was not ready to lose her husband.

"You can't go! I can't lose you," she fell to her knees, pleading with Paris. He softly gripped her chin, and tilted it up to look at her. He wiped the tears from her eyes.

"Don't worry, Helen. I have a strange feeling that this will work. Perhaps the gods are speaking through me now."

She stared up at him, her brow furrowed with confusion. He was acting so strangely. But his voice felt so true.

"Please, be careful. I'll be waiting up here for you."

Paris calmly left, slowly stepping down each step on the stairs deliberately. He paused after each step, his mind filling with memories of Hector as he walked. Paris stepped through the gate, much to the confusion of the Trojan soldiers there. Paris leaving the city was a rare event, and yet here he was. He walked out, finding the place on the ground where Hector was killed. He grimaced, and braced himself.

Achilles finished his last lap around the city with Hector's body. The body had been ground down by the miles and miles of dragging. It was gruesome. At the end of this lap, he saw Prince Paris standing where Hector once stood. He stepped off the chariot to face him.

"Another Prince of Troy sent to die?" Achilles gloated. "Are you ready to die, too? Like your beloved Prince Hector?"

Paris said nothing. He only stared at Achilles.

"Not even your best could defeat me!" Achilles cackled. "What makes you think you stand a chance?" Achilles paused again, hoping to see some sort of terror in Paris's face. But there was nothing. He went even further with his goading.

"Not even the gods could defeat me, Prince Paris! Now, prepare to die!"

Paris smiled. Now he understood. He raised his bow with a deep breath in. He took aim. A deep breath out. Release.

Apollo stretched out his fingers, pointing at Achilles's heel. With his guidance, the arrow pierced it, completely severing the tendon. Apollo smiled, a smile of vindication. A transgression had been punished. Hubris had been humbled. Achilles challenged the gods, and the gods answered.

With this arrow, Achilles was down. He had never felt something like this before. All of the wounds and injuries that he never knew suddenly came to him all at once. He screamed in pain. But with this agony, other feelings returned to him as well. He was allowed to feel the grief that had been blocked by rage and hate. His thoughts returned to Patroclus. He smiled. Then he closed his eyes.

Achilles was dead.

Chapter Text

Aphrodite stood with fixed discipline as Paris killed Achilles. For the most part, she tried to act light-hearted and lovely. But when it was time to get serious, she got serious. Seeing Achilles kill Hector had broken Andromache's heart, and was a great offense to Aphrodite. Of course, seeing Patroclus dead had broken Achilles's heart. This had hurt Aphrodite too, but Achilles lost her when he set out to destroy love in his path of revenge. Aphrodite gritted her teeth and sighed. Achilles was dead. Hector was dead. Hearts were broken.

"So, what happens now?" Aphrodite asked Apollo. 

Apollo stared at her in silence. He blinked.

"I can't say. Or, I won't say. It's not my place."

"What do you mean? Is something wrong? You have to tell me!"

Apollo looked down and sighed. 

"Are they going to be okay? Andromache and Astyanax still live! Tell me they will be okay," Aphrodite exclaimed.

"...Troy will fall. The events that have taken place have secured its downfall."

"What? How can you be sure!? Tell me this isn't true!"

Apollo turned his head, looking away.

Aphrodite began to cry. "...Andromache... their little baby. This isn't fair!"

She collected herself, and began to think of solutions.

"Okay. Fine. The city is doomed. Can we save some of them, at least?"

Apollo shook his head.

"No. You're wrong. You're just not trying hard enough! We can save Andromache and the baby. Nobody will notice they are gone. We can use your Passage to get them out."

Apollo blinked hopefully. One of his powers was a magical Passage, with the ability to transport someone to another location.

"So what you're saying is: we use my power to transport Andromache to safety?"

"And Astyanax."

Apollo frowned again. "Astyanax is beyond me. Although just an infant, his role lies beyond a simple passage. I can only bring out Andromache."

Aphrodite gritted her teeth. "Fine. That's better than nothing. I'll think of something for the baby. Without your help!"

Odysseus was the first to discover Achilles. The body of Prince Hector had been recovered by Prince Paris, and the body of Achilles remained motionless on the ground. When Odysseus arrived, he sighed with disappointment. He lifted the body of Achilles to his chariot, and then rode away. Strangely, none of the Trojans bothered him. With the chariot, the return journey was much faster.

At the Achaean camp, Odysseus stepped off the chariot with the body slung over his shoulder. While he was gone, the Myrmidons had prepared a funeral pyre for Patroclus. Odysseus slowly walked over, and slumped the body of Achilles next to the body of Patroclus. Odysseus gave the Myrmidons a sorrowful nod, but said nothing. Patroclus was dead. Achilles was dead. Nothing else needed to be said. He turned away, and walked to Agamemnon's tent. He had some business to attend to.

"Odysseus, you've returned," said Agamemnon. "So, did Achilles rip Troy apart brick by brick like he said he was going to?" He laughed, wickedly.

"He's dead. Prince Hector is dead too."

"Ha! So much for the unkillable Achilles. At least he took out Prince Hector along the way. That's the most useful thing I've ev-"

Agamemnon's sentence was interrupted by Odysseus punching him in the face, his jaw being shut by the knuckles. He keeled over, spat, then looked back up with rage in his eyes.

"You dare strike me!? In my own tent!? Men, take him away," he yelled.

There were several men inside. They looked at Odysseus, then at Agamemnon, and then at each other. A few blinked. They had seen it all.

"What happened, Agamemnon," lied Ajax the Greater.

"I didn't see anything," added Diomedes.

"Let's get back to the task at hand," said Nestor.

Agamemnon looked around, enraged at this treachery. He angrily grunted for a few seconds, but realized he was in no position to punish Odysseus.

"Damn you all," he muttered. "Everyone, dismissed! Odysseus better have a plan ready by tomorrow."

The officers left Agamemnon's tent. They ate dinner, then went to sleep. Odysseus fell to sleep almost immediately; it had been a long day.

Odysseus opened his eyes, finding himself in a familiar dream world. He was laying on a stone platform, with the starry night sky above him. He sat up and looked around, seeing only the darkness of night and mist. There was no discernable feature he could see, save for an owl slowly soaring overhead. Athena! He quickly turned, and saw the wondrous Goddess standing above him. 

"Hail, Odysseus."

"Athena!"

That was enough pleasantries for her.

"I come to offer you wisdom for the war, Odysseus."

"Yes, please. With the attack on our camp, and Achilles dead, I don't know what further options we have. Even though Prince Hector is dead, we don't have a way to bring down the wall. I fear it may be over."

"It's not over. Wars are fought with strategy, with tactics, with guile. Even with tricks."

"With tricks?"

Athena nodded. The mist of the dream began to envelope them.

"Wait! I need to know more!"

"I've told you everything you need..."

The thick mist flooded them, completely obscuring any view. The dream world ended, and Odysseus woke up.

Andromache lay in bed. It was empty. She felt lifeless, she felt nothing at all. Not even the news of Achilles dying helped her. Hector was gone. She would carry on, but she would need time. In her room, a light started to suddenly shine. It was as if the sun was rising right in front of her. She averted her eyes so as to not go blind. After a couple seconds, the light persisted, but had dimmed itself enough so that she could see. In front of her was the most beautiful woman she had ever seen. More beautiful than Helen, even. Andromache fell to her knees and bowed.

"Aphrodite!"

Aphrodite smiled warmly. 

"Hello Andromache. Yes, it is I. Aphrodite! Goddess of Love. I wish I came here in happier times. I have been watching the love between you and Hector grow and blossom. I was pained to see him killed. I can't even imagine your despair."

Andromache sat up, staring at Aphrodite with a look of disbelief. She didn't know what to say.

"Don't worry, Andromache. Everyone is speechless around me when we first meet. You don't have to speak. Just listen."

Aphrodite's face became serious.

"With Hector's death, Troy is doomed. I wish this were not so. But, you are my favorite. I can at least save you. With some help, of course."

Andromache kept staring. It was difficult to focus. There was so much going on. And hearing this from Aphrodite did not help either. Her beauty was so intoxicating, even just standing here, that Andromache had to avoid looking at her for more than a few seconds to remain present. Finally, Andromache found the courage to respond.

"Astyanax. Our son. Can he come with me? He needs me to take care of him."

Aphrodite frowned. The look of sadness on her face was heart-wrenching. Any mortal that saw Aphrodite frown like this would immediately feel the urge to get to action, removing her problems or showering her with praise to make her smile again. But Andromache just stared, bearing Aphrodite's sadness as her own. She frowned as well.

"Stop, you're going to make me cry!" Aphrodite tried to tease. It was all that stood before actually crying.

"You didn't answer my question. Please, Goddess. Please, Aphrodite. Bring my Asty to safety!"

The lump in Andromache's throat was sore. She had to communicate, but it was taking everything she had to not cry. Aphrodite weakly looked at her.

"...I can't."

Andromache burst into tears. She crawled towards Aphrodite for comfort. She reached out, looking for anything. Aphrodite picked her up, and held her face to her chest. Andromache sobbed into the goddess's chest. Aphrodite held her, gently cradling her head and back. She took a deep breath as Andromache cried. She resisted the urge to cry with her; she needed to be serious in order to save her. 

"Andromache, look at me."

Andromache looked up, her eyes still wet.

"If you remain here, your suffering will be immense. I hesitate to even speak it aloud. Please, come with us."

"Aphrodite. Please. Please protect my son."

Aphrodite frowned again, and bit her lip. Seeing Andromache like this was devastating. 

"I can protect him, in my own way. I will do what I can. He just can't join you in the Passage. I'm sorry."

Andromache sniffed. Aphrodite wiped a tear from her face.

"Okay. Can I at least say goodbye?"

"Of course."

Andromache slowly walked over to Astyanax, her face still flushed. She managed a smile.

"Hi, baby," she softly said. Astyanax looked up at her and giggled. It was his mom! He was happy.

She picked him up, and started breastfeeding him. She couldn't take her eyes off him. She started crying again, the tears falling down onto Astyanax.

"I'll miss you, my beautiful boy."

This was too much for Aphrodite. She couldn't help but weep too. She at least stayed far away enough not to be distracting. She wanted Andromache's and Astyanax's last moment to be uninterrupted.

Andromache finished. She was desperate to stay longer, to not let go. But she knew Aphrodite was right. She placed Astyanax down, for the last time.

Aphrodite stepped forward, her face also flushed with tears. In a strange way, this made Andromache feel better. This made her feel connected to the goddess. Aphrodite was worth placing trust in.

"Ready?"

"I don't think I'll ever be ready. But let's go."

Andromache grabbed Aphrodite's hand. A doorway appeared in the middle of the room. It led down a stone staircase. It was impossible to see just how far it went, she could only tell that it was long and dark.

"A Passage, courtesy of Apollo. He will take you from here. I have to stay here with Astyanax. It was so nice to meet you, my love!" Andromache hugged Aphrodite tightly. Aphrodite hugged her back.

"I know we just met, and I know you're a goddess. But I just want to say it. I love you. And thank you." 

Andromache stepped into the Passage, past Apollo that was holding it open. He gave her an understanding nod, but said nothing else. He led her down several steps, and the Passage disappeared behind them. Aphrodite wiped a tear away.

That night, the Trojans cheered. The Achaeans had moved their ships away. They presented the Trojans with a giant wooden horse: an offering of surrender. The Trojans triumphantly let it into the city, ready to celebrate the end of the war. They had all been fighting for so long. It was finally over!

Chapter Text

Odysseus sat crouched inside of a wooden horse. He was joined with several elite Achaean warriors. They looked at one another, but none spoke. Their mission relied on utmost secrecy. The Trojans had allowed the horse inside the city, and by extension, had allowed the Achaeans through the wall. After a couple of hours, they crept out, dropping from the horse and landing on the ground. They looked around. They were in Troy!

A thick stretch of storm clouds had formed over the sky. The clouds were so thick that no stars could be seen. Thunder rumbled overhead. It cracked, and rain began to fall. The sounds of thunder and rain masked the sound of the Achaeans slinking through the city. Eventually, they reached the gatehouse. 

The Achaeans thrust their blades into the necks of the Trojans in the gatehouse, killing them quickly and quietly. With these guards removed, the Achaeans were free to open the gates. The mighty gates slowly opened. 

Outside the walls, the rest of the Achaeans lay in wait. When the gates opened, the Achaeans outside rushed in. Their weapons were already drawn and they were equipped for war. They rushed into the city, like a flash flood of water. The Trojans barely put up a resistance, between those that were sleeping, drunk, or simply unaware. The thunderstorm that was brewing earlier had touched down above Troy. Heavy rain poured, extinguishing outside torches and drenching everyone outside. Lightning began to strike, electrocuting unlucky Trojans. Rare groups of Trojans took up arms, but they did not last long.

Odysseus stormed up towards the palace. All around him, he heard screams of pain and the sounds of war. Thunder continued to rumble overhead. He was soaked with rain, his armor and clothes drenched. He was of a singular mind, ready to end this war for good.

Right as Odysseus reached the palace, a hawk flew overhead. He looked up as he heard it screech. Looking into the sky, another flash of lightning blinded him. Thunder clapped right above him, it felt as though it was in his very skull. The thunder and lightning was overwhelming, he gasped and dropped to his knees. His squeezed his eyes shut, the image of the hawk seared into his eyelids. 

"BEHOLD! THE KING OF THE GODS," a voice boomed in his mind.

"I PRESENT MYSELF WITH A WARNING. " the voice continued.

"Zeus," Odysseus called out.

It was indeed Zeus, the God of Lightning and King of the Gods. Now that Odysseus had been humbled, he lowered his voice to his speaking voice. It was still overwhelming.

"It is your responsibility to finish this. There remains one final foe for you to face. If he lives, he will bring ruin and revenge to you and your house. He will destroy Ithaca, just as you have destroyed Troy. You must kill the Last Prince of Troy!"

Odysseus did not have a chance to respond. The image of the hawk faded from his vision, and his other senses returned to him. He gasped for air, desperately trying to ground himself after this encounter.

"What was that?..." Odysseus muttered to himself. "The last prince of Troy. He must be in the palace."

Before he stepped into the palace, Odysseus took one last look behind him at the city. He heard screams and crashing. He saw destruction. Odysseus gritted his teeth, drew his sword, then stepped inside.

Troy had withstood assault for a decade. It fell in a single night.

Chapter Text

Odysseus wandered through the palace. Other Achaeans had already been there before him. Treasures had been looted, men and women captured and killed. Even though these were his enemies, Odysseus couldn't help but frown. Prince Paris and King Priam had already been killed. All sons of King Priam were slain by the Achaeans. If all of King Priam's children were killed, then where was this Last Prince of Troy? Odysseus wandered deeper into the palace, finding the quarters of Prince Hector and Andromache. Odysseus looked mournfully at the possessions of Prince Hector hanging on the walls. Strangely, this room had not been ransacked yet; Odysseus was the first one to make it here. He did not see anyone else in the room. 

Odysseus slowly walked through the room, taking steps with thought and deliberation. He traced his fingers across the furniture, deep in thought. He remembered his noble antagonist, Prince Hector. It was a shame that he had to die. Eventually, he found a baby laying alone. This baby was Prince Hector's son; this baby was the Last Prince of Troy! Odysseus sighed, and raised his sword.

Suddenly, a swift gust of wind snuffed out all sources of light in the room. Odysseus could see nothing in the darkness. Another gust swept through, and the light returned. Odysseus looked around, and he found himself in his bedroom at home in Ithaca. He couldn't believe his eyes. The furniture was just like his at home, including his wedding bed he had made for Penelope. He gripped his heart, and tears came to his eyes. Home. It had been so long. He peered over to the baby again. Odysseus saw the face of Telemachus, his son. His heart was overwhelmed, and he began to cry. Tears dripped from his face onto the baby's face. The baby woke up, and began to cry. Odysseus immediately attempted to soothe the baby, and picked him up.

"You're home!" A voice called out. Odysseus didn't need to turn around to know who it was. He knew that voice anywhere. Penelope!

He turned around, and saw her standing there. Her presence stunned him. Her face was just the same as when he left; she was exceedingly beautiful. This was the woman he had fallen in love with.

"Penelope," he called to her. She approached. She walked deliberately, slowly placing foot in front of foot. With every step closer she took, his heart beat harder. She stopped just out of arm's reach.

"You're with Telemachus! How is he? He has missed you so much," she exclaimed.

He reached out to her, but she took a step back. 

"Penelope?"

He looked down and paused. He began to think.

"The last time I saw Telemachus was before I left for war. That was a decade ago..." he said. Penelope's face darkened. "Why is he still a baby?"

Penelope frowned, and stared at him.

"I was in Troy... now I'm home. But I'm not. That is impossible."

Penelope began to glare.

"You would reject your own senses!? You would reject me, your wife? You would reject our son, Telemachus?" 

Odysseus frowned now. 

"I'm sorry, but you are not my wife. And this is not my son. This is my enemy: the Last Prince of Troy."

He drew his blade again, and the baby began to cry again. He looked just like Telemachus. He pressed the blade on the baby's neck. It would be painless, it would be quick. Odysseus couldn't bear to look. He closed his eyes.

"Don't hurt him!" Penelope screamed. She rushed over and grabbed the baby, then used her hip to bump Odysseus away. She forgot to hold back, knocking him to the ground. He felt his elbows and back crash onto the hard floor. His sword fell to the side, clanging on the floor. 

Pieces started to fall into place in Odysseus's mind. This illusion was convincing, but his wit rooted him back to reality. The bump that Penelope had pushed him with was too powerful. Whoever this was, she was not a mortal. She had intervened when he threatened the baby. She must have created this illusion to garner his sympathy. Her intervention showed that she clearly favored Troy, especially this prince. He knew of a goddess that had interfered directly to support Troy already. His mind began to work, and he knew who this was.

"Aphrodite!" He accused her.

She sighed. "You got me!" And yet, she did not drop her presentation of Penelope.

"Why are you here? Why do you look like Penelope? Who is the baby?"

"Questions, questions! Didn't you like my illusion? All I had to do was not kiss you, that was the main thing I couldn't replicate."

He glared at her. Not only was she a supporter of his enemies, but she was a direct enemy of his patron, Athena. 

"So, why am I here? This..." she held up the baby, "...is Prince Astyanax, son of Andromache and Hector!"

"The last prince of Troy..."

"Yes! I am going to protect him. And you are going to help me!"

"What?"

"What don't you understand?"

"Why me? I was sent to kill this prince. Zeus gave me a warning. I need to kill him, or he will grow up and destroy me."

"Exactly! That is why you're going to be the one to help me."

Odysseus blinked at her, full of confusion.

"No. My real wife is at home. My real son is at home. I'm going home to them. And you're standing in my way."

"Not so fast, handsome! You haven't even heard my offer. If you help me and raise this prince as your own, I will bestow my blessing of love upon you and your wife. Think about your homecoming! It will be so romantic. Just imagine it! All you have to do is help me."

Odysseus shook his head, still glaring at her.

"I don't need you to bless my marriage. My wife and I already love each other! I won't help you."

The pleasant smile of Penelope/Aphrodite quickly faded. Her expression turned to rage. It was unsettling to see.

"This arrogance from you. You don't understand my power," she muttered. "You think your wife's love for you is beyond my reach!? I wanted to offer you a blessing! You could have just accepted, but no..." 

She grabbed a sword from the wall, and marched over to the wedding bed. This was an ornate wedding bed, carved by Odysseus as a symbol of love for Penelope. She began to hack at it with the sword.

"What are you doing!?" he exclaimed. "Stop!"

She swung again, a chunk of wood flying out of the bed 

"I can take my love away from you," she yelled, her appearance still resembling Penelope. Odysseus forgot his senses for a moment.

"Penelope, stop! Please," he pleaded. Then he remembered that this was not his wife, and corrected himself. "Aphrodite, please."

She took another swing, just to make a point. Odysseus's expression had shifted to sadness now.

"Aphrodite... Can you really make Penelope fall out of love with me?"

She glared at him.

"You dare doubt my power?"

Odysseus frowned.

"What am I supposed to do? Zeus told me that if I don't kill Prince Astyanax, he would grow up and destroy Ithaca."

Penelope/Aphrodite took another swing at the wedding bed. 

"He will destroy me and my family..."

Another swing, wood chips splattered out.

"If I don't kill him now, I will be doomed."

Another swing. The wedding bed was almost completely destroyed.

"Stop!"

Penelope/Aphrodite looked over to him, her eyes blazing. She held the sword up, poised to deliver the final blow.

"...I'll do it. I need her. I need Penelope," Odysseus softly said.

She lowered the sword, and her expression rapidly changed back to cheerful. 

"You will!? Oh, thank you!" 

Odysseus was still shaken by her threat. How did she switch her emotions so quickly like this? She was terrifying.

"Why didn't you just say that earlier, silly? Ugh, I hate being scary like that. Not very lovely. Not very lovely, at all. But..." she paused, then her expression grew angry again. She glared. "...sometimes it's necessary. Especially when you mortals DON'T LISTEN," she yelled at him. Odysseus shuddered. She exhaled, regaining her composure. Then she nervously laughed.

"Ugh, I lost my cool again. I'm not used to people saying no to me. Anyway, I'm back! I'm normal again."

Her expression returned to cheerful, but Odysseus continued watching her carefully, knowing her demeanor could change in another moment.

"Okay. Where was I? You're going to help us! Are you ready?"

"...sure."

"Finally! You will take Prince Astyanax from this place, and raise him as though he was your own. He can call you Uncle Odysseus. Isn't that nice?"

"What will I do when he grows up? Won't he take revenge on me when he comes of age?"

"You'll be family to him by then! Don't worry about it."

Odysseus was worried about it. But he decided not to question further.

"Very good. Well, congratulations Odysseus! You're an uncle now. Take care of him."

She passed Astyanax into his arms. The baby looked up to him, confused and afraid after all of this.

"And remember, you know what will I do if anything were to happen to him," she said in a singsong voice, lighthearted but with a dark threat underneath. Odysseus shuddered again.

Another gust of wind snuffed out the lights. Aphrodite was gone. The lights flickered back to life, and the room looked like Troy again. Now that it was just him and Astyanax, he set out to gather supplies to take care of him. Andromache had left behind many valuable items, Odysseus grabbed them and stuffed them into his pack. This would supply him for a while, at least. Odysseus found some clothes of Prince Hector and Andromache. He reviewed them sadly, and stuffed them into his pack as well. Perhaps the scent of his parents would be useful to calm down Astyanax later. Once he had gathered everything he needed, Odysseus left the palace, avoiding groups of Achaeans and Trojans fighting. Finally, he stepped out.

Odysseus took a deep breath. He was ready to go home.

Chapter Text

Athena stomped through the halls of Olympus. Her metal boots clamored hard onto the floor, the sound echoing around with each step. She was clearly on her way somewhere, and her demeanor showed that she should not be messed with. She was upset. 

Athena made her way to Aphrodite's chamber, and found her laying on a bed, looking out her magic window to the mortal world below.

"What do you think you're doing!?" Asked Athena, angrily.

Aphrodite looked unbothered. She yawned, then looked over. Aphrodite ignored the question.

"Athena! How good of you to stop by. You don't visit enough."

"Don't play with me, Aphrodite. I'm not in the mood," Athena replied.

"Looking for something?" Aphrodite teased. Then she pulled out the Apple of Discord from behind her ear, as if she were performing a magic trick. "An apple, perhaps?"

Athena stared at the apple, and her annoyance grew into true anger.

"How dare you bring that out here!? Put it away, now!"

"Or what, you'll kill all of the mortals I love? Already been done. Troy has been destroyed."

"How can you say this? How can you be so brazen over them, after you claim to love them!?" 

"Oh, I do love them. And I shed my tears for them. But not in front of you. Messing with you is my last scrap of joy from this war. A consolation prize, if you will," she explained. "Speaking of prizes, it's a shame you never got this one," gesturing to the apple. "I suppose that Aphrodite truly is the fairest of all of the gods. Ha!"

She tossed the apple up into the air, and as it fell, she performed another sleight-of-hand trick to make it disappear again.

Athena gripped her fists tightly, feeling her fingernails dig into her palms.

"So, what have you come over for? Honestly, Athena. I would expect the Goddess of Wisdom to communicate better," said Aphrodite. She sighed. "Maybe you've lost your edge. A little too much victory got to your head, hm?"

Athena was fuming. How was this possible? Aphrodite lost. Athena won. And yet, she laid there without a care in the world, while Athena scrambled to keep her emotions on check.

"My student, Odysseus." She muttered.

"Can't hear you, gorgeous!"

"Odysseus! What did you do to him!? Why does he care for Astyanax? Zeus warned him that it would lead to his doom. I know you had something to do with this. Tell me," Athena demanded.

"Oh, that? That was easy," Aphrodite lied. "In fact, he hardly needed any pushing at all. If anything, he wanted to take care of that baby."

Athena stared. "I know that's not true. He would not take on so much risk without a good reason. Tell me!"

Aphrodite yawned again. "Why do you want to know so badly, anyway?"

"I'm his mentor. This is not the plan I had for him."

"Hmm. I guess you'll have to ask him yourself. Try to be patient until then. Imagine that, Athena not knowing something!" Aphrodite laughed. "Wait, here's one better: Athena not knowing something, and Aphrodite knowing it! Wow, maybe they should call me the Goddess of Wisdom now."

Athena grabbed a pillow nearby, and screamed into it. She was furious.

"Fine, I'm leaving! Maybe once he explains your STUPID plan to me, I can talk him out of it."

Athena stormed out.

Aphrodite heard Athena's boots stomp down the hallway. She listened as the sound got farther and farther away, eventually disappearing. Finally she was alone again. Now that she was alone, her aloof act quickly came crashing down. Thoughts rushed to her of everyone she loved in Troy dying. She thought of Paris and Helen separated. She thought of Andromache leaving Astyanax behind. It was too much. She buried her face in a pillow and began to cry.

Odysseus carefully walked out into the city. Night had ended, and Rosy-Fingered Dawn stretched out across the horizon. The thunderstorm had passed, but the ground was still drenched with the heavy rain. The streets were littered with rubble. Dead Trojans and Achaeans could be seen around every corner. The clamor of Achaeans rooting around for treasure and supply could be heard, some of them resulting in arguments and small skirmishes. Thankfully, nobody bothered Odysseus and Astyanax. 

Odysseus paused to examine the Trojan Gate Hinge. He placed one hand on it, the other arm still holding Astyanax. He slowly traced his finger across the metal, and remembered everything he had been through already. This hinge, a shaped form of metal, had guaranteed Troy's safety for 10 years. This hinge had separated Odysseus and his family for 10 years. This hinge had opened and closed hundreds of times, accepting Prince Hector into the city. This hinge was here for every reunion and every tragedy.

"You would not be here if not for this," said Odysseus to Astyanax, pointing to the gate hinge. The baby looked up at him in confusion. "Neither would I. And yet here we are together. A simple metal cylinder..."

Odysseus thought some more. "No, it wasn't a simple metal cylinder. It was more than that. It was the minds that designed this gate. It was the workers who mined the ore for it, those who shoveled fuel into the forges, those who hammered it into shape. This hinge was the farmers who grew the food for the workers. It was the soldiers that fought to protect it. It was the mothers, wives, and maidens, working tirelessly inside the city walls. It was the faith and hope of everyone in the city. That's what this gate hinge is. That's what brought us together." Odysseus smiled. "That's much better than just fate, isn't it, little prince?"

He walked forward, his hand drifting away from the gate for the final time.

Odysseus began the long walk to his ship. Somewhere on those trodden plains, he was stricken by an immense headache. He fell to his knees, and turned his head down to keep the sun out of his eyes. He had to squeeze them shut. But the pain persisted. 

"What's happening to me!?" He groaned.

An owl seared into his mind.

"Athena? What's going on?"

"This is faster than waiting for you to fall asleep, and easier than going down there personally. I don't care if you're uncomfortable. Care to explain what you're doing with that baby!?", the voice of Athena yelled, contained entirely in his mind.

"What? I..."

"That is Prince Astyanax of Troy. The Last Prince of Troy. Your enemy! Why does he still live?"

"I... he's just an infant. I couldn't bring myself to kill him."

"A lie! Tell the truth," Athena commanded.

"It was Aphrodite. She protected him. She threatened me and my family. I had to do what she said."

"She's manipulating you! And yet you continue. What is her plan?"

"She... she... she threatened to take my family from me. All she wants is for me to raise this baby as my own."

A couple seconds went by. The pain had lessened, but was still present.

"Athena?"

"I don't know why I expected her to have a more complicated plan. Ugh. She's just using simple coercion. I hate that she pretended to be a mastermind," Athena grumbled. "So, is there anything else she told you that I should know about?"

"Not that I can think of. I'm not even sure what this has to do with me. It could have been anyone that found him, I was just the first one there."

Athena sighed. "No, that's not true. Remember your vision from Zeus? This decision was yours, and yours alone. And you chose to spare him."

"So, what happens now?"

"Well. I would prefer if you tossed the Prince off of the wall. Zeus spoke to you for a reason. Those threats are present."

"And if I keep the boy?"

Athena did not answer. The image of the owl began to fade from his vision, and the pain in his head was lifted. That was a relief, at least. But she had left before their conversation was over. This was on purpose, she did not even want to entertain the idea of Odysseus following Aphrodite's plan.

"So much for wisdom," Odysseus grumbled. Suddenly, another sharp pain burst into his head and the owl appeared in his vision.

"I heard that!" Athena scolded. 

As quickly as she reentered the conversation, she was gone again. Odysseus knew better than to try to grumble again. He opened his eyes and stood up. He looked down at the prince again, who had been staring at his curiously. "Alright, my new friend. Let's get you to Ithaca."

At last, Odysseus made his way to the ship. They were waiting for him. 

"Hail, Odysseus," said Polites, a member of his crew. Polites looked down to the baby.

"What? Who? Why?"

Odysseus shrugged. "The gods."

Polites laughed. "Okay. But you'll have to give us an actual answer on the journey home." 

Odysseus smiled. "Of course, Polites. It's good to see you!" 

Odysseus and the crew spent the next several hours preparing the ships for departure. Andromache wove a special shawl, with a pocket for the baby, then could wrap around to tighten and secure the baby to the wearer. Odysseus took this shawl from his pack and put it on, then put Astyanax into the pouch and secured him. With Astyanax secured in this shawl, Odysseus had both hands free and could still work relatively well. After a lot of hard work, they had successfully packed up their camp and were ready to set sail.

Odysseus's ship was the first to depart, with the rest of his fleet following after. They were headed west, to Ithaca. He was going home, at last. Joyfully to the breeze, royal Odysseus spread his sail, and his rudder skillfully he steered. 

Chapter Text

The journey home had officially begun. Odysseus stood on top of the main deck, feeling the sun on his face and the spray of the sea. The war was over. The hardest part of his journey was done, and now all he had to do was sail home. He did have to worry about Astyanax, of course. Their first day together had gone exceptionally good, all things considered. But now, it was time to start taking care of him.

Astyanax woke up and started crying. The cry was loud, persistent, and piercing. He kept crying and crying. Odysseus slumped his face in distress. 

"What's wrong, prince? Why are you crying?"

Astyanax replied with more crying. Some other crew members began to notice.

"Captain, do something! We can't stand all of this crying," they told Odysseus. 

Odysseus removed Astyanax from his shawl and held him out in front of him. He inspected him.

"Has he eaten anything recently?" Asked Polites. 

Odysseus thought to himself. He hadn't fed him. It was a mystery as to when he last ate.

"He's probably starving! Let's get him something to eat."

Astyanax lacked teeth to chew. The crew came together and gave him some goat milk they had looted from Troy. Astyanax was confused, but was hungry enough to accept this food. He calmed down.

"Okay. Good job, everyone! Thank you for your help."

"Of course, captain. But now that we have time, you have to tell us why we even have this baby."

"Very well." Odysseus handed Astyanax to Polites and climbed to the top deck to make his announcement. He cleared his throat.

"Attention!"

The crew turned their eyes to their captain, ready to hear what he had to say.

"I am here to give you all some much requested information about the baby that has joined us. I will go ahead and tell you his identity. This is Prince Astyanax, son of Andromache and Prince Hector!"

The crew murmured amongst themselves. Most were confused. Some were frustrated, a few even angry.

"Why do we care for the son of our enemy?"

"Prince Hector was a noble adversary. Despite the role he played against us, he fought with bravery and treated us with respect," Odysseus explained. "But further than that, this prince has gathered the audience of several gods. I received multiple visions warning me about him."

Odysseus told a lie by omission. Yes, the gods had warned him. But their advice was to kill Astyanax, not spare him. 

"I stand to believe that if we keep Prince Astyanax alive and healthy, the gods will favor our journey home."

The crew murmured again, this time with slightly more agreement. Although, they still had questions.

"Captain, which gods did you see?"

"I saw visions from gods who favored us at Troy. Athena and Zeus. I also saw yet another vision from Aphrodite, who favored the Trojans. Athena appeared in my vision through the symbol of an owl, while Zeus appeared with a hawk during the thunderstorm. Some demanded that I spared the baby, while others advised that I kill him." Odysseus gritted his teeth. Another lie by omission. He worded his sentence carefully, implying that Athena and Zeus wanted to spare the baby, without explicitly lying. 

"Does anyone have any more questions?"

The crew murmured again. But none stepped forward.

"Very good! Back to work, now"

Odysseus stepped down. He walked back to Polites, who handed Astyanax back to him. Polites walked them to a side of the ship where they could speak in private.

"Odysseus, my friend. I support our decision in saving the prince. But I know you didn't tell us everything."

Odysseus stared at him. He didn't want to rile up the entire crew, but he could talk with Polites, at least. He sighed.

"You're right, Polites. For Zeus and Athena, they appeared to me in visions. But for Aphrodite, she was actually there. In the palace."

Polites nodded.

"She was terrifying. Beautiful, of course. Graceful. Passionate. Caring. But beyond all of that, terrifying. I dare not risk spurning her; her wrath would bring me great suffering."

"I understand, friend. I won't tell the crew the rest of the details. If the gods want this baby to survive, we'll keep him."

"Thank you, Polites." He put a hand on his shoulder. "I think I will try to get some rest. Please look after the crew while I sleep. We'll need to sail home in shifts."

"Good point. I'll see you later."

Odysseus and Astyanax went to sleep in a hammock. It was not the most comfortable, or safe, but it would have to do. 

A couple hours went by with the two of them asleep. Odysseus was sleeping long enough to where he was down into deep sleep. His body was busy repairing itself, his mind getting the rest it needed. No dreams came to him. Peace. Far too suddenly, Astyanax started crying. Odysseus felt his rest rupture, like the surface of a still lake getting a stone tossed into it. 

"Damn," cursed Odysseus. "What now?"

He slowly forced his eyes open. It took great effort, using multiple heavy blinks to fully wake up. He stared at the crying baby, narrowing his eyes and feeling frustration ring in his ears. He sat and stared for a couple seconds, his mind still not awake.

"What is wrong with you?"

Astyanax kept crying. Odysseus frowned.

"Why are you crying?"

Astyanax kept crying. 

"Hmm. Well. You ate earlier, so you're probably not hungry."

Astyanax kept crying.

Odysseus glared. He sighed, realizing that he should not be angry at the baby. He picked up Astyanax, and tried to comfort him by thumping on his back. Astyanax burped and stopped crying.

"Finally."

Odysseus took Astyanax back to the hammock, and the two fell back to sleep. At last. He was ready to get back to where he left off. But that rest would be short lived. Astyanax was about to put it all to waste, again. He started crying. Odysseus struggled awake. Once again, he forced open his eyes and held up Astyanax.

Odysseus leaned forward, and detected a foul odor from the baby. He sighed.

"By the gods..."

He shambled out to the main deck with Astyanax in his arms. The crying still persisted.

"Captain! It's only been a couple hours, shouldn't you still be asleep?"

Odysseus pointed at the baby. Still crying.

"Go ahead and change him, then." 

Odysseus withdrew a new cloth diaper from Andromache's collection, as well as a rag for cleaning. He removed Astyanax's soiled clothes, cleaned him up with the rag, and dressed him in the new diaper. Astyanax stopped crying! Odysseus sighed in relief.

"Finally," he muttered for the second time.

Odysseus and Astyanax stared at each other. Odysseus blinked slowly at him, his temperment still sleepy. With every blink, he held onto the feeling of keeping his eyes closed for a couple of precious seconds. He managed to stay awake. 

"Okay. You're going to help me clean out this old one. Well. You're going to watch, I guess."

Odysseus found a bucket and tied a rope to it. A quick toss overboard gave him a bucket of seawater. He washed out the dirty clothes and rags in the bag. Then he removed the clothes and dumped the water overboard. He repeated this process a couple times, with multiple washes and rinses. At last, all that was left to do is hang up the clothes to dry.

"Well then. That will be our system to keep you clean. Now please, I want to sleep."

Prince Astyanax stared at him with confusion. He felt much better now, at least. But the prince would still need time to get used to this new situation.

Odysseus took Astyanax back to bed, this time hoping that he found finally sleep this time without interruption. He watched over Astyanax carefully, inspecting him, trying to anticipate if there was anything wrong with him.

"Are you going to cry again?"

Astyanax blinked at him. 

"Are you sure? Because I don't want to be disturbed again."

Astyanax blinked again, his eyelids a little heavier this time. Odysseus sighed in relief.

"Okay. Thank you. This will be best for the both of us."

Odysseus stayed awake for a couple minutes with Astyanax nearby. He waited on purpose, making sure that Astyanax fell asleep first. His breath became slower and heavier, implying that he had truly fallen asleep. Odysseus smiled now, and laid back. There was no interruption this time. Odysseus and Astyanax finally found the rest they had been searching for.

Odysseus opened his eyes and found himself in a dream world. He smiled. He was excited to get some wisdom from Athena. Strangely, Astyanax was awake in this world too. He looked around with bewilderment.

"Boo!" A familiar voice surprised Odysseus. He jumped, startled at the voice. He turned around to find Aphrodite standing before him. When he last saw her, she appeared as Penelope; now, she appeared as her true self. She was frighteningly beautiful, with every feature of her body drawing the eye and demanding attention. She stood there gracefully, with a sense of awareness of her own beauty, and a quiet confidence that came along with it.

"What's the matter, Odysseus? Should I have appeared as Penelope this time?"

Odysseus gulped, nervous. A cold sweat slowly crept up on him.

"Wha... what do you want? Where's Athena?"

"There's no need to be nervous, handsome. You're on my side now! That other bit in the palace was just a bit of a miscommunication. We're fine now. Well, as long as you know your place, of course."

Behind them, an owl cooed. 

"What do you think you're doing!?" The voice of Athena sternly asked.

"Athena, I... I was just dreaming. And, uh-"

"That wasn't a question for you, handsome. She was talking to me. I'm just checking in, that's all! Do you have a problem with that, or something?"

"More like planting the seeds of doom. But anyway. Odysseus," Athena gestured to him. "Despite my clear objections to this arrangement, it appears that you're going to care for this prince."

"And doing a great job, so far!" A cheerful voice cut in.

"Ugh. Ignore her," said Athena, gesturing to Aphrodite. "Yes. Somehow you've succeeded so far. But your supplies will not last for the entire journey home. It seems the war effort has consumed most of your supplies already. You'll need more."

Odysseus nodded in agreement.

"Where should we go?"

Athena raised her spear to the sky, gesturing to the stars. Everyone looked up. Athena's spear started to glow and the light soared into the air, fixing itself to the dream-night sky. Athena had used her light to create a map in the night sky.

"Memorize this chart," she commanded. "Sail this course until you find the city of Ismarus. There, you will find the Cicones, worshippers of Apollo. Although distant, they share this trait with Troy."

Odysseus raised his brow, as if to ask a question. 

"Worshippers of Apollo? Allies of Troy? Sounds like our enemies. Why go there? Surely they would resist us."

Athena hardened her face, and looked stern. 

"You've just finished looting a city. You know what needs to be done."

Odysseus nodded again, and instinctively touched his hip, where his sword should be.

"Hey! Hello! Hellooo!?" The voice of Aphrodite cut in. 

Athena and Odysseus looked over to her, seeing her waving her arms around to get their attention.

"There's no need to sack another city! Have you forgotten so quickly what you faced at Troy?"

"What would you have him do? Just ask nicely?" Athena mocked her.

"Yes! Exactly," Aphrodite said, confidently. "Unless your grand strategy involves getting into another battle and getting killed by the Cicones?"

Odysseus was hesitant to get in between these two goddesses, but he raised a question anyway.

"Aphrodite, how am I supposed to ask nicely? Wouldn't they be wary of raiders, anyway?"

Aphrodite rolled her eyes.

"You know, everyone always talks about how wise and cunning the two of you are, but you haven't even used your imagination yet. Put in some effort!"

Thick mist started to envelope them.

"Oh, come on," Aphrodite grumbled. "Well, it's up to you, Odysseus."

The mist flooded around them, splashing over them like a wave upon rock. They were submerged in the mist and isolated from each other. The dream was over.

Chapter Text

Odysseus emerged from his dream, feeling well rested. He looked over to Astyanax, seeing he was still asleep. He slowly crept away so as to not wake up Astyanax. Success. Odysseus made it to the main deck, seeing the night sky above them. He approached Polites.

"Hello, Captain," said Polites. He yawned. "Ready for the night shift? I, for one, am ready to be done."

"I am, Polites. Thank you for your help. I must ask you for another favor."

Polites yawned again. "Um. I mean, I can. But, can it wait?"

Odysseus smiled. "Fear not, my friend. You'll be resting soon enough. All I ask is that you sleep next to Astyanax for now. If he wakes up, bring him to me."

"Very well, that sounds reasonable to me. Best of luck, Captain."

Polites departed, and new crew members rose from their daytime rest to start sailing at night. The highest ranked among this new crew was Eurylochus. 

"Hail, Captain! I feel like we haven't seen each other since that battle in Troy. Thanks for having my back," said Eurylochus. He stepped forward, reaching out his arm to greet Odysseus. Odysseus matched him, and they clasped their forearms together.

"Hail, Eurylochus. You were the one holding the shield back then. Without you, I imagine the both of us would be full of Trojan arrows without you," said Odysseus, warmly.

"Of course, Captain. Now anyway, what are our orders?"

Odysseus stepped up. He gestured up at the night sky, mirroring how Athena had shown him in the dream. The crew looked up to the stars.

"Attention, everyone! Athena has granted me the wisdom for our next move. I am to rechart our course for the city of Ismarus. She has shown me the way."

"What do you need us to do, Captain?"

"Light an arrow ablaze, we need to send a signal for the rest of the ships in our fleet. I will be busy changing our direction, one of you will have to send out the signal."

Eurylochus stepped forward, grabbing a bow and arrow. "I will do it, Captain."

Odysseus nodded. He made his way to the rudder, preparing to change the direction. Poised above it, he looked once more at the sky. He studied the stars, then closed his eyes, recalling the map from Athena. He opened his eyes again, and changed the course to make them match. Joyfully to the breeze, royal Odysseus spread his sail, and his rudder skillfully he steered. They were on their way to Ismarus!

Odysseus signaled to Eurylochus. Eurylochus dipped an arrow with cloth draped over it into a torch. The fire quickly lapped up the cloth, and soon the arrow lit up. Eurylochus released the arrow into the air, it soared up, flying in a long arc. The other ships knew the message, they were to follow the lead ship in the fleet. The crew watched as the other ships in the fleet changed their course to match Odysseus. The signal had worked successfully. 

"Great work, Eurylochus! All we need to do now is follow this course. We will reach Ismarus in a couple of days."

Odysseus and the crew sailed through the night. The ship glided smoothly across the waves. The oars were stored inside, for now. The energy needed to row would not be necessary now, as they had the wind behind them. Plus, the main crew was asleep for the night. The night crew kept their minds sharp, ensuring their course was correct and ready to adapt if the sea changed on them.

Eurylochus approached Odysseus. They stood together, both looking forward to their destination. Eurylochus gave Odysseus a nod.

"Captain."

Odysseus nodded back. "Eurylochus."

They continued to stand in comfortable silence. They listened to the breeze of the sea ripple across the water and billow the sails. They listened to the rhythmic sloshing of the water wrapping around the edge of the ship. The wooden planks of the ship creaked together. Finally, Eurylochus spoke.

"You know, Captain, I've always looked forward to the night assignments."

"A night owl, are you?"

"There's many things to look forward to, but I'll share my favorite: no sun beating down on us! It's nice and cool."

Odysseus laughed. "Of course. I remember your strange rivalry with the sun."

"A rivalry with the sun?" Eurylochus laughed too. "That makes it sound as though I would challenge Helios, himself!" The two of them laughed. 

Several more hours went by. It was a typical night of sailing. The sun started to rise, signaling that it was almost time for shifts to change. Polites emerged from the lower decks, Prince Astyanax in his arms. Prince Astyanax was awake and happy. A rarity on this trip, but much appreciated. 

"Good morning, Captain," said Polites. "I took care of the prince through the night and this morning. I know you mentioned that you would be willing to take care of him if he woke up, but it was no trouble."

Odysseus remembered how difficult his time with Astyanax was the day before.

"Thank you, Polites. I know how much work that is. I appreciate it."

"Of course, Captain. Where are we headed now?"

"The city of Ismarus. I'm still thinking about what we should do when we arrive. We still have a couple days before we get there."

"Good luck. Anyway, I will get to work switching with the night crew."

Odysseus yawned.

"I will stay awake, at least while our new guest is awake as well. I'm hoping I can adopt his sleeping patterns on our journey home. That will make his rude awakenings a little less rude."

Polites and Eurylochus nodded in acknowledgement.

"While I am busy taking care of this baby, I need crew I can trust to keep things running smoothly. Polites, you will be in charge during the day. Eurylochus, you will be in charge during the night. Further decisions will still have to be made by me, of course, but I have witnessed you apply your skills and knowledge before. I am confident that the two of you can keep this ship afloat."

"Thank you, Captain," said Polites.

"Thank you, Captain," said Eurylochus. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I plan on heading below deck soon."

They nodded to Eurylochus, and he departed.

Odysseus struggled to stay awake. He stood by Astyanax, propping him up and allowing him to see the world a little more. He attended to him the rest of the day, anticipating his needs more this time. With Polites and the rest of the day crew operating the ship, that took some stress away. After an almost complete reset of sleep, the sun started going down. Odysseus cheered. Astyanax and Odysseus retired to sleep for the night. No dreams visited them, only rest.

The next several days were typical sailing, and did not provide them with any difficulties. At night, Eurylochus would lead them forward, and Polites would switch with him in the morning. Eventually, they could see land. They could see the city of Ismarus, home of the Cicones.

"Everyone, gather round. We'll need coordination for our next move here. For starters, I have decided that our entire fleet should not sail to Ismarus. The majority of us will anchor out here, with my ship being the only one to go into the city. This will help keep the Cicones at ease. Now, I'll need some volunteers to row to the other ships in our fleet, and give them my command to hold position," Odysseus explained.

Several arms raised. More than enough to spread the word.

"Excellent, thank you! Now, I will also need some crew to stay behind and watch over this ship. We will sail closer to Ismarus, distant enough from the rest of the fleet so that we appear alone."

Several more arms raised. Among them was Polites and his crew.

"Now, for everyone else. We will be going into the city together."

Odysseus looked around at his crew, seeing them nod and agree.

The crew on its way to the Cicones was intentionally small. Among them were Kamos, Theris, Tekton, Etimos, Galen, Phaedrus, and Lysander. These crew members had all shown their skill in the Trojan War, as well as their previous journey. There was one notable addition to this crew, a surprise to everyone: Prince Astyanax.

"Captain? Why are you bringing a baby to Ismarus? Surely he will only hinder us. Better to leave him behind on the ship," suggested Theris.

"Trust me, Theris. According to my plan, this baby will help us more than a fully trained soldier."

Odysseus and his crew rowed onward. With every rotation of the oars, Ismarus became closer and closer. The closer the docks were, the more populated the waters became. There were fishing ships, merchant ships, small transport ships, and many others travelling through. Odysseus looked at the crew on these other ships, and felt tension grip him. Luckily, they were not hostile, but if things were to unfold into violence, the Cicones could easily destroy them. Odysseus steadied himself, and just gave polite waves and nods to any strangers he found. They responded with a courteous gesture, then resumed their business. They had dodged any major scrutiny. Eventually, they made it to the dock, latching onto it and disembarking.

Odysseus carried Astyanax in Andromache's shawl, with Astyanax facing outward so that he could see. The crew followed carefully behind. 

"Hail, traveler! What brings you to Ismarus?" A voice called out.

Odysseus turned, finding a stranger had called out to them. Odysseus paused, saying nothing. Seconds went by, with Odysseus simply staring at this stranger.

"Hello? I'm the Dock Master around here. I'll need to know why you're docking here without permission."

The dock master spoke with authority. There was still a pleasant veneer of business in his voice, but stern enough to let them know he meant business.

"Thank you for accepting us, sir. We have come from Troy. We must share news with you and the rest of the Cicones," explained Odysseus.

The dock master looked at them curiously. Odysseus strained, anticipating the hundreds of ways this could go poorly. Somehow, he managed to keep himself composed, his expression neutral.

"Troy, eh? Hmm. That sounds like it's beyond me. Head towards the lighthouse, I'm sure someone there will be more interested in your story. Anyway, welcome to Ismarus."

Odysseus and the crew silently cheered. They shuffled past, their feet scuttling across the wooden planks of the dock. The lighthouse was nearby, and they entered. Inside, they found themselves in some sort of processing room that served as a lobby. A woman sat behind a desk, inspecting them. Her hair was gray and cut short. Subtle wrinkles were on her face, showing some sort of age. Her expression was stern, her eyes serious and full of experience. She was clearly in charge here, and at the height of her career.

"Well? What is it?" She asked.

Odysseus studied her as well. "We are here from Troy... and we have bad news. The war is lost."

"And? Why are you here?"

"Well, we have just sailed from Troy. And we need supplies. We are hoping to call upon the alliance that you had with Troy, and provide us with some supplies for our travels."

She inspected him closely, and narrowed her eyes. Her lips pursed. Odysseus felt his heart start to race. She called out some names Odysseus did not recognize. He heard footsteps approaching, loud enough and unsteady enough to imply a crowd was approaching. Dozens of men and women shuffled in and stood near the woman at the desk.

"Go ahead then, tell us your story," said the woman.

"Greetings, Cicones," Odysseus announced. "My men and I bring grim news about the fate of Troy. The city has been destroyed by the Achaeans. King Priam has been killed." Grimaces and quiet gasps emerged from the crowd. Odysseus continued.

"King Priam and his children were all killed. Including the noble Prince Hector. And yet, hope remains." Odysseus raised Astyanax above him, raising his arms up for everyone to see. Astyanax smiled.

"Behold, Prince Astyanax, son of Prince Hector and Andromache. We sail onwards to bring him to safety, raising him as we would our own son."

The crowd erupted in gasps, shock, and confusion. Questions piled upon each other, directed at each other, at Odysseus, at the crew, at the woman, at the baby. Nobody could understand anything.

 "Everyone, hush!" The woman at the desk announced sharply, and the murmur of the crowd slowly returned back to silence.

"Now, a few questions of mine for our visitors."

Odysseus locked eyes with her, bracing himself for any questions she might ask.

"The obvious one first, how do we know that is truly Prince Astyanax? What if it's simply some random baby?"

Odysseus tucked Astyanax back into his shawl and opened his pack.

"I'm glad you asked, Cicones. I present to you a weaving from Andromache herself, adorned with the crest of her family," he announced, revealing it from his pack. 

Astyanax clapped his hands happily, seeing this token from his mother. Several Cicones approached, studying it closely, both the fabric and the crest. They murmured in agreement. This was indeed woven by Andromache, and it bore her crest.

"That's all well and good, but how do we know of their intentions? For all we know, they could have stolen this garment from the Trojans."

"If that were true, explain why we would have this baby with us," Odysseus countered.

"Simple. A kidnapping."

"What advantage would it pose for us to kidnap this baby? He does not know how to sail. He can't help us with any of our duties on the ship."

"Ransom?"

"Ransom to who? His father, the dead Prince Hector? His grandfather, the dead King Priam? Troy has nothing they could offer to us, the Achaeans looted it all."

The woman stared at Astyanax. Her mind turned. She could sense something was unexplained, but Odysseus has addressed all of her concerns so far. She glared, with one last question in mind.

"How do we know you're not Achaeans?"

Odysseus exhaled, coolly. He had been waiting for this one.

"If we were Achaeans, surely we would come equipped for war. Look at us now, a small band of travelers. The Achaeans were strong enough to attack Troy, armed with weapons and ships from many kingdoms. Those of us standing here couldn't conquer Troy..." Odysseus explained. He paused for a second, knowing he had the attention of the audience. "...we couldn't even conquer a single Cicone Fishing Ship!"

The crowd erupted in laughter and glee. This stranger had appealed to them, and answered all of their leader's questions properly. Statements of approval stirred, until the crowd needed hushing again from the leader.

"Very well, you've answered my questions. I think I can speak for all of us when I say that we will happily provide you with supplies. We will honor our alliance with Troy, just as we did when we sent soldiers to fight for them years ago. Now, how many of you are there? Eight of you? We can spare that much."

"I hate to interrupt, but the eight of us here are only a small part of my crew. There are more of us than this. I'm afraid I must ask for more."

"Very well, how many sail with you?"

Odysseus took a mental tally. He wanted supplies for his whole fleet.

"600. We have 600 men."

The Cicone woman narrowed her eyes once again.

"I must have misheard you. Did you say 600? We've established that you're a small group of travelers, not a fleet of warriors. 600 men could not be waiting for you on a single ship. Unless... you were lying earlier...."

Odysseus steadied his mind. He considered what to say, navigating this conversation just as he would navigate the seas. He pondered, knowing he wanted as many supplies as he could get, but did not want to provoke the Cicones.

"600? My mistake. 60. I must have added an extra digit by accident."

"Hmm. That sounds more reasonable. We can use a freighter to bring the supplies out to your main ship. Good luck on your journey. Our condolences for King Priam."

"Thank you, we shall be on our way."

The Cicone woman directed her staff to load up a freighter of supplies in accordance with her instructions. Odysseus and his crew assisted them, and with short work, they were ready to set out for the main ship. The Cicones sailed the freighter, while Odysseus and his crew returned on their smaller rowboat.

Unloading the supplies went smoothly. Thanks to the wit of Odysseus, the workers of the Cicones trusted him. Once all of the supplies were loaded onto their ship, they bid them farewell.

"Farewell, Prince Astyanax! It was nice to meet you," the sailors called out. Soon, they were gone.

Odysseus took stock of the new supplies. A flawless victory, as he suffered zero losses. If he had tried to raid the Cicones, things would have gone much differently. Perhaps they could have looted more supplies, but it is likely they would have lost more of their crew. Things were better this way.

"Get these supplies distributed to the other ships. It will be spread thin, but it's still something," Odysseus commanded. "Once everyone is ready, we can resume our journey home."

The crew merged with the rest of the fleet. Morale was high, thanks to the new supplies. Odysseus was already thinking of where their next stop would be. He retired, Astyanax with him.

Chapter Text

Athena strolled through the halls of Olympus. Her posture was proper, and she walked the halls with poise. Thousands of thoughts raced through her mind as she walked through the halls. This was typical for her. Her footsteps echoed through the hallway steadily, forming a rhythm for her to think about. She isolated each topic in her mind into subdivided categories, then deconstructed the data, stimuli, and concepts that composed each topic. Next was the fun part. She began to reconstruct these topics into new ones, finding similarities, differences, rhyme, and reason. She was discovering new ideas. Essentially, she was developing wisdom!

As her mind wandered, she did not pay particular attention to where she was going. She had walked these halls thousands of times like this before; they were all familiar to her. Without thinking about where she was going, she was free to spend more of her mental energy dedicated to her thinking. Suddenly, her walk was interrupted, her mind rooted quickly back to where she was standing: Aphrodite's door.

"How did I get here?" Athena muttered to herself. She turned around, preparing to leave. But she lingered. Something felt right, being here. She lingered further, perceiving the door behind her. She glanced behind her. Still there. She turned back around to face it. She lingered some more, just looking at the door, debating with herself if she should leave or if she should enter. She sighed, and approached the door, opening it.

The door slowly opened, and Athena spotted Aphrodite sitting with Ares, laughing and chatting. They were so engaged with the conversation that they had not heard the door open. Athena walked through the door, entering Aphrodite's room. Her metal boots were muffled by a fluffy rug that Aphrodite had laid out. As a result, Athena had to announce herself.

"Hey."

Aphrodite and Ares looked up to see her standing there.

"Oh hi, Athena! I didn't hear you come in. What's on your mind?"

"I have something I wanted to talk about with you, Aphrodite," said Athena. She glanced over at Ares. Athena pointed to the door behind her, and glared at Ares. "Out."

Ares glared back. "Out? Is that all you're going to say?"

"Out."

"You can't just barge in and kick me out. I was here first, you know!"

"Out."

"This isn't even your place!"

Athena sighed, and looked at Aphrodite. Aphrodite thought to herself, knowing that these two did not get along.

"Hey Ares, would you mind stepping out?" Aphrodite said sweetly.

"What? It's not like you two are even friends. She barely comes over!" 

"Exactly," said Aphrodite, beckoning Ares to stand. "So she must be here for a good reason. Go ahead, I'll come visit you later."

Ares groaned. "Fine. I'd rather leave than spend any more time with her." Ares made an obscene gesture towards Athena. Athena angrily sneered at him and shrugged. He walked towards the door, but Athena was standing in the way. He paused, waiting for Athena to move out of the way. She just stood there, glaring at him. He grew frustrated.

"Move!" Said Ares.

Athena did not move.

"Ugh," groaned Ares. He awkwardly shuffled around her, and left. 

Now, it was just Athena and Aphrodite alone. The two of them had their guard up; their last interaction in this room had been unpleasant. The two of them lingered for several seconds in awkward silence. Athena kept standing there, Aphrodite remained seated. Finally, Aphrodite sighed.

"Well!?"

Athena stood for a couple more seconds, trying to think about what to say. She gathered her thoughts, like gathering her footing before a battle. She sighed, then walked over and sat near Aphrodite. She met her eyes, her expression still as hard as stone. Aphrodite studied her face, trying to understand this strange visit. Athena's face softened. Aphrodite raised her eyebrow at this with curiosity. Finally, Athena spoke.

"I want to teach you about something. Something important to me."

"What?"

Athena sighed again. "It will all make sense once I am done. I just had to start here for this to make sense."

Aphrodite nodded. "Go ahead, then."

"Okay. Thanks. So, both Ares and I are both called gods of war, but where his domain is about carnage and destruction, mine is in wisdom and strategy. This naturally puts us at odds with each other. He is the most repulsive god who lives here."

Aphrodite glared at her. "Hey!"

"Right. Sorry. I know that you like him, but I cannot stand him. I'll get back on topic," said Athena. "Anyway. We're both interested in war, but I am interested in victory."

"Are you implying Ares isn't interested in victory?"

"Yes. That may sound bold, but it's something I've noticed. He revels in the lives lost, celebrating large armies that grind each other down to annihilation. His interest lies in blood and violence, and that ends when victory is achieved."

"Hmm. You don't get him like I do."

"Fair enough, I suppose. But enough about Ares," Athena continued. "I always seek victory, but the ones I am most excited for are flawless victories."

"Flawless victories? Victories like my skin?" Aphrodite joked. Athena ignored the joke, and instead continued.

"The best victories are those in which our side suffers no losses. Those where we can achieve without any of our lives lost. We can use up our supplies, we can break weapons, we can spend our resources, but as long as none of our favored die, that is flawless."

Athena's expression was brighter now. Even talking about this inspired her. Aphrodite noticed, and couldn't help but smile. Seeing this passion from Athena was refreshing.

"Flawless victories require skill. They require planning, technology, tactics. And sometimes, no fighting takes place, at all. Which brings us here, now."

Athena looked down.

"You were right..." Athena said, softly.

"What!? What do you mean?" Aphrodite normally would have taken this opportunity to gloat, but she was genuinely curious about the answer now.

"Odysseus and Astyanax secured supplies from the Cicones. And in contrast to what I was suggesting and expected, they did not raid Ismarus. They did not need to. Odysseus convinced them to give them supplies without the threat of force. He lost zero soldiers. I can only imagine how many would have been lost if the raid on the Cicones had been lethal."

"So, in the dream, when I suggested to 'just act nicely', that actually worked?"

"Well, it was a little more complicated than that, but yes."

Aphrodite beamed proudly. Her mind was filled with satisfaction, as if she had solved a puzzle and put the last piece into place. She fought her urges to gloat to Athena. Instead, she quickly grabbed Athena, giving her a hug.

Athena sat there for a couple seconds, being hugged by Aphrodite. Then, she shook her off.

"Ugh, I say one nice thing to you and then you hug me," said Athena. She stood up and started to leave. "I just figured you should know. Unfortunately, we're stuck with each other for a while. Goodbye."

Aphrodite knew why Athena was reacting this way. She didn't let it get to her. Aphrodite kept her smile. Athena exited.

"Goodbye, Athena. I'll see you later," Aphrodite called out to her.

Athena was out of Aphrodite's view. 

Now that Athena knew she was out of Aphrodite's sight, she let herself smile. Athena's smile started out subtle, as if it were a plant growing through a spring snow. It grew and blossomed into a proper smile. She started to walk again.

"Goodbye, Aphrodite," Athena whispered to herself, looking down with a smile on her face.

Meanwhile, Odysseus was sailing his fleet home. He stood on the top deck of the ship, watching over Astyanax, happily laying on his stomach atop one of Andromache's blankets. Odysseus peered over at him, making sure he wasn't getting into trouble. Things seemed to be going smoothly with regards to Astyanax. The first few days of getting their sleep schedules synchronized was brutal, but now they had each other figured out. Odysseus and his crew made sure that Astyanax's needs were met. Now that they were simply sailing, there was more time to spend with Astyanax directly.  

Odysseus had set a new course for home after their stop in Ismarus. The rest of the fleet trailed them. Things were going well.

"Captain?" 

Odysseus looked over to see Polites address him. 

"Yes, Polites?"

"Well done on getting those supplies from the Cicones. Another way that story could have unravelled is us losing dozens of our men. I'm glad it did not come to that."

"Thank you, Polites. Of course, I must thank the gods for the wisdom they imparted to me."

"Of course," said Polites. He paused for a few seconds. "I did want to bring something up. With us spreading out the supplies they offered for a single ship amongst our entire fleet, this will not last us for the return journey. We'll need to stop somewhere to forage or hunt for more food."

"I was thinking the same thing, my friend. Thankfully the Cicones have supplied us with enough time that we won't starve while we look."

Odysseus climbed up and gestured to the crew. He prepared his announcement.

"Attention, my crew," Odysseus announced. They looked up to him. "We will need to find land to gather more food. Keep your eye on the horizon, and on the sky. If there are birds nearby, watch them. The birds will lead us to land."

"Yes, captain!"

The crew continued to sail. No birds or land was in sight. Days passed. Time was on their side, for now. But if this trend continued, they would soon consume all of their supplies. Eventually, they found some birds! They turned their ships to follow them.

Eurylochus was watching the horizon. The stars from the sky reflected on the sea below, forming a near perfect mirror. As they moved forward, something appeared in the distance. A strange glow. Perhaps it was fire? Perhaps it was land? Eurylochus hurried down to where Odysseus was sleeping. 

"Captain, I hate to wake you," said Eurylochus. "But I think I see land! I will sail to it through the night."

"Very good, Eurylochus," Odysseus said, still keeping his eyes closed. "Make sure to signal to the other ships of our destination. When we get there, we'll send some scouts over there."

"Thank you, Captain. I will send Tekton and Kamos. When they return, they will share what they found with us."

"Thank you, Eurylochus."

Eurylochus departed, and crept quietly back up to the top deck. He ordered one of the crew to fire a signal arrow to the rest of the fleet, a gesture to indicate that they were going to the land. He steered the ship and followed the light. He felt the glow light slowly pull him closer. It was probably just the idea of stepping on land that was calling him, but something felt particularly appealing about this light. Eventually, they were close enough to anchor near the shore and send the scouts on a rowboat to the island.

"Kamos, Tekton!"

"Yes, Eurylochus?"

"The two of you are going to scout that island. We still have the advantage of night over us. I want you to scout and see if there is anyone there. Take care of yourselves if they look hostile. When you return, we will use the information to determine our next move."

Tekton and Kamos nodded. They gathered their equipment and prepared to depart. 

"Good luck, men."

They waved to Eurylochus, and began to row towards the island.

Eurylochus and the rest of the fleet dropped their anchors. Here, they would wait to see what the scouts returned with. Eurylochus felt his gaze fix on the island. All he had to do now was wait.

The island continued to glow, the light inviting any visitors closer.

Chapter Text

The fleet remained anchored near the island, relying on the scouts to return before exploring further. Unfortunately, Kamos and Tekton had not returned for quite some time. In fact, an entire day had passed. On the dawn of the second day, Odysseus awoke and emerged from the lower decks. Astyanax joined him.

"Captain," said Eurylochus. "Kamos and Tekton have not returned from the island. What should we do?"

Odysseus gritted his teeth. "Yes. Something must have trapped them there. I'm hoping they did not perish. I will gather a proper party to destroy whatever threat is on that island. Take your leave for the day, I know you've had a long night of work."

"Thank you, Captain. Good luck." Eurylochus nodded, and departed.

"Polites, gear up," commanded Odysseus. "We're going to that island. It's time to don our weapons and armor once again. Astyanax will stay behind."

Polites nodded. "Yes, Captain. I will gather the rest of the men. We'll be prepared."

After the proper time spent preparing for battle, Odysseus and his crew embarked on a smaller boat to approach the island. He stood at the front of the boat, staying alert. The crew rowed with consistent rhythm, and in a short time, they beached. Odysseus hopped out, peering around in search of danger. 

Strangely, this island was pleasant. Had it not been for the unseen threat that had taken Kamos and Tekton, this would have been a great place to rest. The tide gently washed over the beaches, and the jungle inland was abundant with life. The crew marched forward, venturing into the jungle.

"No sign of them. No tracks in the sand. No paths made through the jungle. None of these branches have been cut. Where could they be?"

They crept through, their senses tuned, ready for any threat that could appear. Eyes darted from side to side. They looked up into the canopy. The ground ahead of them was inspected for hazards. Nothing. At last, they stepped into a glade.

"Welcome!"

A man stood in front of them. He was dressed in leaves woven together, almost as if he were one of the trees as well. His hair was long, frazzled, and unkept. The hair from his head merged into the hair from his face, forming one wooly visage. The hair would have been longer, but had been naturally sanded down by the elements, with fraying and split ends. His appearance gave no indication of his age; he only appeared to be an adult man. The skin and hair around his mouth was stained with a vibrant fruit red color. In fact, his hand was holding a peculiar fruit that he had just taken a bite out of.

"Stay back!"

Odysseus, with sword already drawn from the adventure, raised it to defend himself from the man. "We sent two sailors to this island to scout here. They have not returned. Did you do something to them!?"

The man did not seem to react to this deadly weapon. In fact, he seemed to not react to anything at all.

"Welcome! Would you like to share some of the Lotus Fruit?"

Odysseus furrowed his brows in confusion and frustration.

"What? Did you not hear me? Where are our friends!?"

"Welcome! Would you like to share some of the Lotus Fruit?"

Another voice answered from deeper in the glade. It was excited and full of glee.

"I would like some of the Lotus Fruit!"

Another voice joined as well.

"Oh, me too! Save some of the Lotus for me!"

The sources of the voices came bounding into the glade, and stood side-by-side with the Lotus Eater. These men were much fresher, and were dressed in the armor of Achaean sailors. Because they were Achaean sailors! 

"Tekton!? Kamos!? What? How? Why do you linger here? You two were supposed to come back to the ship hours ago! We thought you had been killed!"

"Welcome, Captain. Don't worry, we weren't gone very long. There's no danger here. This Lotus Eater was kind enough to share the fruit of the Lotus Tree. Come, follow us."

Odysseus lowered his sword, but did not sheathe it. His crew followed their friends deeper into the jungle, but they did not feel at ease. With a short trek deeper in, they encountered some sort of village. Dozens of frazzled and dirty people lounged about, with similar appearances to the first man they saw. This village did not have proper buildings, only different shelves of stone where the Lotus Eaters would lay. At the center of the village was a fascinating tree, with wondrous fruit growing from its branches. The fruit dipped low, almost begging to be picked. On their guard, the crew dared not pick the fruit.

"Isn't this wonderful? The beautiful Lotus! Everything you could ever need," said Kamos.

"How fortunate we were that the Lotus Eaters welcomed us! Please, Captain, try some," said Tekton.

"I won't. Friends, enough of these games. We have to get home. Now, pull yourselves together and get back to the ship. The rest of us will see if we can forage for something else to eat."

The two of them gave Odysseus a look of confusion.

"Get back to the ship? What do you mean? Why?"

"What are you talking about? So that we can go home!"

"What's waiting for us at home? Nothing better than what we have here: the Lotus! We're not leaving. We won't join you."

Confusion grew past frustration. Odysseus was angry now.

"What!? Of course we're going home. And you're coming with us."

Kamos and Tekton looked at each other, then looked at the tree.

"You are our captain no longer, Odysseus. We relinquish our birth from Ithaca. We will remain here, eating Lotus. We will eat Lotus and be happy until the end of our days."

Odysseus snorted in anger.

"You don't get to choose whether or not I'm your captain anymore! I've had enough of your insubordination! Enough of your failure! To think, we risked this island to come and look for you," yelled Odysseus. He sheathed his sword.

"Soldiers of Ithaca! We're going back to the ship." 

Odysseus pointed and Tekton and Kamos.

"They are joining us. Seize them! Drag them if you have to!"

The crew rushed to them, grabbing their arms and restraining them. Kamos yelled in frustration and struggled, trying to shove off his old friends. Tekton fell to the ground, and the crew grabbed him by his legs and feet. They started walking, dragging Tekton away as he screamed. His arms flailed around wildly, searching for tree roots or rocks to hold him back. To keep him closer to the precious Lotus.

Polites frowned. "Odysseus. Do we really have to do this? It seems cruel. Why not let them stay?"

Odysseus glared, still angry at Tekton and Kamos. But to answer Polites, he collected himself first.

"Polites, they are not themselves. Clearly the Lotus has taken their mind."

"And why not let it take them? They seem happy enough. Could they spend the rest of their days in bliss?"

Odysseus thought, then answered.

"No. Their freedom has been taken by the Lotus. It is like a monster. An inviting monster, but a monster nonetheless. I would not leave you behind to be devoured, and I will not leave them."

Polites nodded, but grimaced at the sight of them struggle. They had to drag them all the way back to the rowboat, and eventually made it back to the main ship.

Kamos and Tekton collapsed onto the deck, exhausted. The spell of the Lotus was starting to wear off, but lingering effects still remained.

"Captain, I don't know what happened back there. The fruit... it was so good. I can feel my mind call for it again. I'm sorry."

Odysseus sighed. 

"Yes, Kamos. The Lotus still calls to you and Tekton. I imagine it will for the rest of your life. But we need to get you home."

They sighed. "Fine."

"Out of curiosity... what was it like?" Asked Polites.

They thought for a moment, trying to find a way to express it into words. Tekton spoke.

"Consider all of the stresses and responsibilities we face. The war. The journey home. Our constant struggle to survive. The Lotus made us keenly aware of all of our woes. It was agony. But at the same time, it offered us a salvation. It told us that as long as we ate the Lotus, we would not have to worry anymore. We would be safe inside its open arms."

"Not to mention, it also tasted amazing. It filled our bellies more than any other meal we've had. Our senses fell away," added Kamos.

Odysseus pulled Polites aside. He wanted to discuss a new plan away from Tekton and Kamos.

"Polites. I just had a thought. This Lotus Tree could be useful to us!"

"Oh, Captain. Don't tell me you've eaten some of the fruit when I wasn't looking."

"No, thankfully. Kamos and Tekton have devoted their lives to the tree already. But consider what it could mean if we brought the tree home with us. They could sail home with us, and still remain under the pleasant spell of the Lotus."

Polites grimaced, a look of disgust on his face.

"Odysseus, you can't be serious. You would allow them to stay mind controlled?"

"With the tree on the ship and not on the island, their fate would be tied to the well-being of the ship. Consider the possibilities!"

Polites frowned. "I won't help you with this. Let's be rid of this island."

Odysseus continued.

"I want to leave this island with more than what we came with. I'm going back with a raiding party. You don't have to join us."

Polites shook his head, and left.

Hours later, Odysseus returned to the island, joined by everyone he convinced to join his plan. They were geared up for battle, a feeling they knew all too well. They brought more this time, including tools to dig and move the tree. The trek through the jungle was clear, their tracks had trampled down a proper path for them to follow. Soon, they reached the glade where they had met the first Lotus Eater.

"Welcome! Would you like to share some of the Lotus Fruit?"

The same Lotus Eater from before greeted them. He did not seem to recognize them from before. 

"Yes," Odysseus lied. "In fact, could you bring us to the foot of the Lotus Tree itself? We would like to take the fruit from its very branches."

"Grand! Yes, yes, yes. That is the best fruit, indeed. Follow me, travellers."

They followed the Lotus Eater deeper into the village, and they reached the tree. He pointed to a particularly appetizing fruit.

"Go on, then. Try some!"

Odysseus nodded. "Yes. We will be taking the fruit. In fact, we are taking the tree."

 His crew brandished their shovels, and began to dig a wide circle around the tree. Initially, the Lotus Eaters did not react. They did not worry about anything. The crew kept digging. A stray stomp with a shovel pierced into the ground, too close to a root, and completely severed it. The tree detected this danger, and emitted pollen. Odysseus waved it away from his face.

"Ugh! What is this?"

He turned around, and saw the Lotus Eaters stir into a frenzy. The tree was under attack, and it called upon its followers to defend it. It took them time to scramble to action, going from passive rest to restless fury. 

"Soldiers! Draw your weapons! Here they come!"

The Lotus Eaters crashed upon their shields. However, these were no warriors of Troy. They were no match for these battle-hardened Achaeans. After blocking the initial slam, the Achaeans replied with quick stabs. Strangely, the Lotus Eaters did not react to the pain. They still screamed, but they screamed for the sake of the tree and not themselves.

The first Lotus Eater was upon Odysseus. His face was delirious. Odysseus could see the stained beard on him, see him open his mouth to try to bite him. He raved, chomping and striking to no progress, blocked entirely by Odysseus's shield and skill. Odysseus slashed, cutting off the hands of the Lotus Eater. Gruesome. But he did not relent. He kept punching, throwing his bloody stubs at the bronze. Odysseus frowned, and slashed at his knee. One leg crumbled under the damage, but the Lotus Eater continued. He flailed his arms as if they were clubs, every impact sending a thud into Odysseus's arm, and splattering blood from the open wounds. Another slash at the last leg, and the Lotus Eater fell to the ground. Even still, he did not relent. His devotion to the tree was undying. He writhed on the ground, convulsing with his core, wriggling to try to bite Odysseus's ankles. Odysseus stepped away, but he had never seen an enemy fight like this before. Dismemberment would not defeat the Lotus Eaters. Only death. Odysseus plunged his sword into his neck, finally ending this frenzy.

He exhaled, and looked around. He and his crew had wiped out the entire village. They looked at each other with horror, disgust, and shock.

"What have we done?" Theris asked.

Odysseus grimaced, and answered. "We killed our enemies. We've done it before, and we'll do it again."

The rest of the crew stared at him, still shocked.

"Let's not keep blood on our swords. Go ahead and clean them. Then we can get back to work," Odysseus announced. He was trying to forget what they just had to do.

The crew did as they were instructed, and soon digging resumed. There was no one left to stop them. They dug out a large enough chunk of earth for the tree to survive, and lifted it out of the hole. It took a group effort and tools, but they managed to get it onto the cart. Additionally, they hacked apart some jungle logs to build a planter back on the main ship. They slowly dragged the tree back, taking frequent breaks due to its weight. But at last, they recovered it and brought it up to the main ship, using cranes and pulleys at the end.

The Lotus Tree was placed in the center of the deck, and had a planter built around it to contain the soil. They had done it!

"Kamos! Tekton! Over here," called Odysseus.

They emerged from the lower decks, and found the Lotus Tree planted on the deck. They jumped for joy, hollering and cheering.

"Captain! Captain! I can't believe this! This is amazing."

"Captain! Is this fruit for us? You're sure we can eat it?"

Odysseus nodded. A smile spread across his face. It was heartwarming to see this joy, despite the source being unnatural and monstrous. 

Polites approached. He looked over Odysseus, noticing the caked blood that stained him. "So. I take it the Lotus Eaters weren't too thrilled when you tried to take their tree from them?"

"It was the most passion I have seen out of them. That tree was the only thing they cared about. And now it's ours!"

"I still think it's a bad idea. But I suppose it may be useful in the future." Polites nodded, and left.

"Tekton. Kamos. You are free to as much fruit from this tree as you desire. However, do not let anyone else besides us take the fruit. They do not understand it like you do. As Captain, I will take the fruit and use it when I see fit. Understand?"

"Yes Captain. We understand. We will stand by this tree night and day, never leaving its shade."

The sun was going down. Eurylochus emerged from the lower decks, ready to begin his shift.

"Captain!? What happened to you? All this blood!"

"Fear not, Eurylochus. It's not mine. But I do need some rest. I'm glad you're up. We've gotten everything we could from that island. Not what we expected, if I'm being honest. Let's start the trip back home, maybe we can find another island to land on."

Eurylochus nodded in agreement. Odysseus cleaned up and retired. Eurylochus set sail, their course set for home once again.

Chapter Text

Aphrodite was visiting Hephaestus. They were discussing a new outfit for her.

"...so, you think you could make something like that? Just based on what I've described?" Aphrodite asked.

Hephaestus leaned over one of his drafting tables, sketching out her ideas using a pencil and paper. He started with a base anatomical model, then added details showing how the new clothes would look. He drew several different perspectives and poses, giving the viewer a good idea of what the outfit would look like when it was actually made.

"Here's what I have so far. It sounds like you'll want something nice and warm, so I've designed something that will both resist the elements and keep you warm. Notice the different layers? The innermost is very insulated and soft. There's several intermediate layers, and then a sturdy exterior that can help shrug off the cold. Also, check out these zippers and vents! You can choose to open and close them depending on how much air you want to let in." Hephaestus gestured to the paper, showing off different parts of his sketch while she looked over his shoulder.

"It's great, it's functional. But... let's see a little more style! Add a little flair, a little bit of your flavor. I want you to express yourself!"

Hephaestus smiled and nodded. 

"I started with just the core idea first. But you're right, we can't forget about aesthetics. Especially if you're wearing it!", said Hephaestus. Aphrodite made a playful pose, pretending to be embarrassed by the compliment. Hephaestus continued. "Do you want to help me? This table is big enough for the both of us, we can draw together and compare."

"Of course," said Aphrodite. She sat down next to him, and the two of them began to draw more ideas together.

"...okay, I'm thinking of an accent piece here, near my shoulder." She gestured to her sketch. "This will draw the eye, and then we follow this down with another layer that tucks in. On the other shoulder, we keep that one normal, giving us some intentional asymmetry and giving some contrast to the accent piece. Oh! And we can incorporate your vents into the aesthetic of the outfit, too."

Hephaestus smiled at her, partly due to her passion and partly due to him being impressed.

"Wow! That looks great. I'll add those ideas to my working draft." He spent the next couple minutes incorporating her drawing with his ideas, merging their two outfit ideas into one. When he was finished, he showed her again.

"So, what do you think? A little more stylish than before, yes?"

"It looks great! But I do have to bring something up. You're covering up my figure too much!" She playfully gestured over her body in the air, highlighting her shape. "Remember that my body is under there too," said Aphrodite. 

Hephaestus chuckled, then started drawing two comically large circles on the sketch's chest.

"Crude!" Aphrodite said, and jokingly hit his chest with the back of her hand. "But you are on the right track."

The two of them kept creating together until they finished with a new draft they were both proud of. It was composed of the function and aesthetics that they were both looking for. Additionally, it managed to complement Aphrodite's figure, despite being several layers of clothing thick.

"Looks amazing! No more notes! Let's do it," said Aphrodite.

Aphrodite sat down on Hephaestus's lap, and he shifted them over to his warehouse stacks of raw material. Hephaestus's chair could shift along different rails in the floor, walls, and ceiling. Essentially, everywhere in his workshop was accessible by shifting his chair in these rails. They grabbed everything they needed, including fabrics, threads, buttons, furs, and much more. When they had everything they needed, Hephaestus brought them to his workbench to get started.

"So, do you need any help for now?" Aphrodite asked.

"I will need to measure you again to get your dimensions," Hephaestus replied. 

"Of course!"

Aphrodite approached Hephaestus and let him measure out the features of her body that he would need to cut his patterns. 

For the next several hours, Hephaestus worked on turning their design into reality. Aphrodite followed him around, sitting on chairs and benches while he worked. She enjoyed watching him express his passion for creativity in his workshop. He laid out the fabrics and cut the pieces into patterns. Everything was prepared and organized with intention. When all of the components were ready, he began to sew them together using a machine he invented. With his skillful technique, he sewed sturdy seams that were also folded in on themselves and blended perfectly with the rest of the fabric. The garments were both stylish and comfortable. It was just as they had designed, including the different layers that could open and close with zippers depending on the temperature. When he was finished, he held it up to her.

"Go on, try it on!"

She changed into it, then twirled around in it and did a variety of poses.

"How do I look?'

"Incredible!"

She smiled and blew a kiss to him.

"Well, I have to compliment your skills as well."

"So, what did you want the outfit for, anyway? I can't imagine somewhere nearby that's as cold as what we were expecting," Hephaestus asked.

"I plan on visiting an old friend. Her domain can get pretty cold," answered Aphrodite.

"An old friend?"

"Oh, she's old, alright!"

Aphrodite traveled across nearly the entirety of Olympus. She had embarked on a journey typically farther than where she normally went, but she still knew the way. She was going to see Demeter, the Goddess of Growth and Harvest. Before she entered, she changed into her new outfit, and was ready to withstand bitter cold. Aphrodite opened the door, and entered Demeter's domain. 

"Welcome, child. What brings you to my humble abode?" An elegant voice called out to her. Aphrodite turned to answer her.

"First of all, wrong. Second of all, wrong," Aphrodite playfully said. Demeter looked at her, confused.

Aphrodite continued. "Child!? I'm older than you! I'm your grandfather, after al-"

"- I'm going to stop you right there. Just because you were born from the severed genitals of Oranos does not mean you get to call yourself my grandfather," Demeter interrupted. 

Aphrodite shrugged. "Hmm. Anyway, onto your second thing: 'humble abode'? Demeter, this is not humble. This is marvelous!"

Aphrodite stretched her arms out far and wide, showing off the grand expanse where Demeter lived. There were rolling hills as far as the eye could see, all planted abundantly with crops, swaying in a breeze. The ground looked like an ocean of green and life.

"It's just an expression, dear. But thank you," replied Demeter. She slightly smiled at the compliment. "Anyway, what brings you to visit?"

"Same reason why any of us visit. Barter for favor. Maybe have a little fun too." Aphrodite winked.

Demeter stood in a garden. She chose her form as an older woman, with the posture and respect that it brings. Gods are immortal, so she chose this form intentionally. Her form was graceful and elegant, telling the stories of countless years of growth, harvest, and rebirth. Demeter's dress reflected her domain; the fabric made to look as though it was part of the land itself, teeming with beauty and life. Closer inspection at any part of the dress showed intricate details, showing plant stems, leaves, and buds swirling together. Certain features on her dress were highlighted by vivid flowers. The ornate detailing of Demeter's dress came together wholly, forming a complete and comprehensive outfit. She was beautiful.

"So, Aphrodite, you have come to request my favor. And, as you express it, 'have a little fun'. What does that mean?"

Aphrodite smiled. "It can mean whatever you want it to mean." She took a step closer to her. "I just want us to enjoy each other's company for a while."

Demeter gave her a curious look. A suspicious look, even.

"Well. Let us get to business. What kind of favors do you want to exch-"

"Demeter! That's no fun. We shouldn't just skip to business. Let's chat! Tell me about what you've been up to."

Demeter was not used to being interrupted. But, she was interested in showing off the work she had been doing. She stretched her arm out, gesturing to her lands.

"Behold, my crops. I have planted them all in accordance with my will, and my schedule. Observe them, all in different stages of development..."

Aphrodite sat down in some soft grass, and allowed Demeter to continue. Demeter poured out her love for these plants, going into detail about their journey from seed, to starter, to crop, and finally to harvest. She spared no detail, describing specific processes in plant biology with great passion. She carried on for over an hour, there was so much she wanted to say. Aphrodite happily sat and listened. While this sort of rambling could have been boring to a different audience, Aphrodite loved to see how much passion Demeter expressed in her speech. Demeter loved things that grew, and it was clear to see. She continued further.

"...my favorite part of all of this: their resilience. Observe the field closest to us."

Demeter pointed, and took a deep breath, channeling her powers as a goddess. Snow began to fall over the crops, and frost gripped them. The crops began to shrivel up and die in mass. 

"Demeter!? What are you doing to those crops? They're dying!" Aphrodite exclaimed.

Demeter nodded. "Yes. Most of them died. Those that were not ready. Because nature does not wait for them to be ready. They must be resilient to survive a changing world. My world."

They sat and stared at the snow covered field for a while. 

Aphrodite frowned. "It seems unnecessary. Cruel, even."

Demeter remained unphased. "And why shouldn't it be? But worry not, dear. Follow me, and let's look closer."

Aphrodite followed Demeter to the snow-covered field. Aphrodite would have felt a chill in the air if not for her new outfit.

"Watch."

Aphrodite looked out at the field, seeing only snow. She peered over the field over and over, not seeing anything. As soon as she was ready to give up, she saw a shoot of green pierce through the snow. She pointed at it excitedly.

"There, there! Demeter, look! Something's growing," exclaimed Aphrodite.

Demeter smiled. "Yes. I have sped up the process substantially for your visit, but this is what I was trying to show you. Winter always ends, and life springs anew. We must love and respect every part of the cycle."

Aphrodite smiled. She had been with Demeter for hours now, and it had all fascinated her. Aphrodite walked over to her, and gently grabbed her hands. They were as cold as ice, but Aphrodite didn't mind. 

"Thank you, Demeter. Maybe I could show you something now?"

Demeter shyly smiled, but then looked away.

"I know all about that, Aphrodite. But those days have passed me. I'm old now. I have other things on my mind."

"Old!? Demeter, once again. I'm older than you. And besides, you're never too old for love."

Demeter looked down, avoiding Aphrodite's eye. She kept holding her hand, but did not speak. Demeter's smile had disappeared, and her expression was frozen now.

"Hey, what's wrong?" Aphrodite asked.

"I haven't been honest with you," said Demeter, her voice slightly faltering. "The truth is, I intentionally cut myself off from the idea of love. It's too painful."

Aphrodite instead hugged her. Demeter's body was still as cold as ice.

"What happened? If you tell me, maybe you'll feel better."

Demeter broke away from the hug, and finally looked at Aphrodite. She hardened her face, not allowing herself to cry. Instead, she spoke.

"I was in love before. And then I had a daughter. Beautiful. Wonderful, like the spring. Persephone."

Aphrodite nodded, knowing the name.

"I know what love brings. It brings happiness, it brings joy, and then loss. Grief. Sorrow."

Aphrodite listened with compassion. Her gentle eyes flickered on Demeter's. She noticed that Demeter was still holding back. Her heart was frozen, intentionally. Aphrodite stood there with her for a moment, simply holding her hand.

"Demeter, sit with me." Aphrodite guided the two of them down. She released her cloak and spread it over the snow with enough room for both of them to sit.

"You've frozen your heart to love. You're afraid you'll get hurt again. But look..." Aphrodite gestured to the green piercing through the snow. "...resilience." Demeter smiled. Aphrodite continued.

"Love comes and goes like the seasons. You taught me to respect the cycle, now it's your turn."

"I'm not sure. I don't think I'm ready."

"Of course you're ready. Bring it on!"

Demeter tentatively leaned her face into Aphrodite, allowing herself to be vulnerable. She buried herself in Aphrodite's warm coat, while Aphrodite wrapped her arms around her. When she felt safe, Demeter finally allowed herself to cry.

Suddenly, dark clouds rushed in, covering the entire sky. The wind began to blow ferociously. It was freezing. It whistled over the land and through the air, screeching as it passed. Aphrodite closed her eyes, and used her arms to cover herself and Demeter. Snow blew in all directions, falling at a tremendous speed and volume. The winter storm continued to unleash around them. Aphrodite steadied herself, feeling her outfit protect her from the cold. Snow kept falling and falling. It accumulated on the ground in banks, only to be whipped away by more wind. Snow blasted her face, and felt it melt on her blushing skin. It was cold. Cold. But Aphrodite continued to hold Demeter in her arms as the storm whipped around them. 

The snow kept falling. There seemed to be no end in sight. So much snow had fallen around them that it started to form small walls. That blocked the wind, at least. But if the snow kept falling like this, they would be buried. Aphrodite opened her eyes, and noticed Demeter was still crying. She gently grabbed her chin, and pointed it up into her eyes. Demeter's face was flushed and wet, like a spring snow washed away by a rainstorm. Aphrodite gently smiled at her, and pressed her forehead to hers.

Demeter felt cared for by Aphrodite, and finally allowed herself to feel her grief properly. The snowstorm began to subside. The wind stopped howling. The clouds parted, and they felt the warm sunshine hit them. Demeter looked up at the clear sky and started crying again, this time with tears of joy. She started laughing.

Aphrodite saw the joy return to Demeter, and she started laughing too. They sat there cuddling and laughing. 

"Thank you, Aphrodite," said Demeter.

"It was my pleasure, Demeter," she replied.

Demeter took a deep breath. "That was cathartic. I never realized how much I was holding onto. How much effort it took for me to bury my feelings, to trap them in ice. It was so much. The loneliness, the sadness, the joy, the hope, the love. I devoted myself only to my work."

Aphrodite nodded with understanding. "You have proven to yourself that you are strong. You are resilient. You can continue to live your life, with a heart open to love, and all of the mystery and terror it brings."

Demeter sniffed. "You're right. If I'm being honest with myself, I haven't been making the most of Persephone's visits home. Even when she was here, I would just worry and dread the time when she would have to leave again. I was distant from her. When she comes to visit again, I will be present with her!"

"And who knows, maybe your heart for romance will open up too! But let's not rush things. I'll be around." Aphrodite gave her a kiss on her forehead, and they stood up. 

The storm had ended, but the snow was still piled up above them. Walls of snow surrounded them. Demeter looked around, witnessing the outcome of her storm. With how deep the snow was, they could not walk out.

"Don't worry, I'll take care of this," said Demeter.

She extended her arm, and used her power to blast away the snow, clearing a path for them. Together they walked arm in arm back to the garden near the entrance.

"So, what kind of favors were you interested in?" Demeter asked.

"Oh... Demeter, after all of that? Don't worry about it. You just had a breakthrough! Your heart is still raw," said Aphrodite. "Tell you what... I'll come back again sometime to visit sometime. That would be fun, wouldn't it?"

Demeter smiled, and breathed a sigh of relief. 

"You're right, Aphrodite. You've been so kind to me. Thank you, I'll remember this."

"Of course! I'll see you later. Goodbye, Demeter," said Aphrodite.

Demeter leaned in and kissed Aphrodite's cheek. Her lips were still ice cold, but she did not mind.

Chapter Text

Odysseus, Astyanax, and the rest of the crew continued their journey to Ithaca. Unfortunately, they were running low on supplies. The supplies that they obtained from the Cicones had been almost entirely consumed, and they were rationing out the remainder. The trip to the Lotus Eaters had not given them the food they were looking for. Eyes watched the skies, hoping for birds or signs of land.

The sun went down. The sun came up. Just sea. Sea and the wind.

Astyanax, who had gotten accustomed to regular feedings and care, became very frustrated by the rationing. He would cry much more often, the wailing impossible to ignore.

"Captain, please! Make him stop," the crew pleaded.

Odysseus, frazzled from the baby, grabbed some Lotus Fruit and began crushing it in a bowl, forming a jelly. He dipped his finger into it, and offered some to Astyanax. Astyanax slurped down the jelly, and his face beamed with joy. He opened his mouth with a big smile, and giggled happily. He clapped his hands together, and tried to indicate that he wanted more. For the rest of the jelly, Odysseus poured it into a couple bottles of wine.

"Just a little jelly, prince. Only for special occasions."

"Well, I see you've finally found a use for the Lotus Fruit," remarked Polites.

"Only temporary. We'll have to find some real food here soon. Have you or Eurylochus spotted anything?"

Polites frowned. "Not yet. The good news is that we are getting closer to Ithaca day by day. Of course, it doesn't matter how close we get to Ithaca if we starve."

Odysseus grimaced. Polites was right.

Suddenly, Astyanax clapped and pointed up to the sky. He babbled something, as if trying to talk to them. 

"What is it, Astyanax? Do you see something?"

They looked up to where he was pointing, and noticed a bird soaring above. The bird would lead them to land!

"Great work, little prince! We'll make a sailor out of you someday."

With the hope of land and food, the crew worked with a new wave of energy. Chattering of excitement passed between workers, and they raced to get the sails and rudder positioned to follow the bird. It worked! Soon enough, they saw another island on the horizon.

Odysseus stepped up to the top deck to make an announcement.

"No pair of scouts this time! When we reach the island, we'll bring a proper party this time. This island is exactly what we need. We don't know what kind of danger we'll find there, so prepare for battle," Odysseus announced.

The crew enthusiastically geared up, ready to slay whatever was in their path. Odysseus approached both Polites and Eurylochus for this mission.

"We don't know how long we'll be there. I want sailors from both the day and night shifts to join us. That way, we'll always have part of our group alert," Odysseus told them.

Polites and Eurylochus agreed, and both geared up with the rest of the crew. Before they could depart, the question of Astyanax had to be addressed. Several of the crew agreed to stay behind and take care of him while Odysseus was gone. The volunteers were among the group that joined Astyanax in Ismarus. Arrangements were made, and the crew was ready. They set out for the island.

As they rowed towards the island, Odysseus scanned ahead, trying to observe any features on the island. From this far away, the main thing he could notice was that this island was much different from the previous one. Where the island of the Lotus Eaters had been a lush jungle centered around the blooming Lotus Tree, this island was composed of green hills and crags. Upon closer inspection, Odysseus could see caves nestled in the rock.

Their ship reached the beach, its hull gliding over and through the rocky sand. They stepped off, feeling land once again under their feet. This beach was rocky, filled with a variety of different sizes. They were all weathered by the wind and sea, but the different sizes made the texture rough and unpleasant to walk on. Odysseus stepped forward carefully, making sure his footing was secure. The rest of the crew followed behind him, their swords drawn and ready for combat. Venturing forward, they left the beach and explored the hills.

"Baaaaaaah," bleated a sheep. It stood on the hillside, observing the crew with great interest.

"A sheep! Food!" The crew broke out running, trying to catch the sheep. The sheep was anticipating this, and made a break for it. The sheep hurried uphill, pursued by the crew. The grade was natural for the sheep, but trying to sprint up this hill fatigued the crew quickly. They slowed down to a walk, trying to catch their breath. Eurylochus pointed.

"Over there," he panted. "Over in the..." a couple more breaths. "...it went into the cave."

Odysseus trailed behind, not distracted by the sheep. Although this burst of running had left him at the back of the pack, his normal pace overtook them, catching him up. 

Soon, they were at the mouth of the cave where the sheep had disappeared. The entrance was quite large, both in terms of width and height. The cave was spacious enough for the crew to walk in all in one group. Their footsteps echoed on the stone, the sound bouncing on the floor, walls, and ceiling, rippling deeper into the cave. While the entrance of the cave was illuminated by the sun, they lit torches as they went deeper in.

"Baaaaahhhh," bleated a sheep. There were many of them in here. A whole flock! 

The crew excitedly ventured deeper, finding even more treasures than just the sheep. They found dried and cured meats, cheeses, ales, and many more supplies. This is exactly what they had been looking for! A fire burned in the middle of the cave, with cookware mounted above it. 

"Someone lives here," said Odysseus. "It looks like whoever lives here is gone for the moment. Let's steal as much as we can and get out of here!"

"Captain, leave so soon? We've only just arrived. Look at this feast laid out for us. Join us."

Eurylochus found a sheep and isolated it away from the others. He escorted it to a remote corner of the cave, so that the other sheep would not see it butchered and become agitated. He poised his sword over the sheep's neck, locating the brain stem with the blade. One strike, quick and painless. Polites helped him butcher and prepare it to cook on the open fire.

The smell of roasted meat entered their nostrils. It was glorious. The delicious smell seemed to infiltrate deep into their bodies, forcing their stomachs to grumble. The thought of biting into freshly cooked meat like this caused them to salivate, giddy with hunger. The thought of leaving this place was lost to Odysseus. With fresh meat like that on the fire, it was impossible to leave.

After a couple minutes of cooking, they were finally ready to eat.

"Here you are, my friend! Enjoy," said Eurylochus, passing a chop to Odysseus. Together, everyone ate. The taste held up to the expectations their noses had made for them. Exceeded them, even. They chewed happily, and drank some of the ale they found. They chatted and laughed, filled with the joy of a fresh meal like this. This was the best meal they had in years.

"Thank you for all of your help, men! Cheers to Eurylochus and Polites for this excellent sheep," Odysseus cheered. The crew cheered wildly too, Eurylochus and Polites beaming with pride and joy. "Now, let's get back to grabbing as much as we can pack. I know we don't want to stay long, we don't know wh-"

"WHO ARE YOU!?" A terrifying roar echoed through the cave. 

The crew dropped what they were carrying, turning quickly to face the source of the roar. Standing tall above them was a giant cyclops. His form was imposing, his presence was rage.

"Thieves! Trespassers! Marauders! Brigands!" He shrieked, thrashing around in anger. He pointed at them. "You came here to steal! You killed my sheep! You killed my sheep," repeated the cyclops. "You'll all pay for this. Time to die, thieves! I will break you, I will feast upon your bodies, I will drink your blood!"

The crew was stunned with shock and fear. They froze. They dropped whatever they were carrying. Casks of ale shattered after being dropped, the liquid dribbling across the stone floor. Clumps of cheese thudded. Everything could be heard with the tension. Finally, Odysseus stepped forward.

"Not thieves, mighty one. Guests! You are our host, we have come to celebrate the generosity of the cyclops with a feast. Now, remind me, what title shall I address our new lord with?"

The cyclops was expecting them to beg for their lives, or scatter in all directions. He answered.

"My name is Polyphemus. But you are not guests! You are thieves, thieves, thieves! You killed my sheep, you stole my food, and you stole my ale."

Odysseus felt the hot air of Polyphemus's breath singe past him. It could have been enough to break his spirit, to send him into a panic, but he continued with his lie.

"Not theft, great Polyphemus! A trade. For you see, we have brought tribute ourselves," explained Odysseus. He reached into his pack and pulled out two casks of wine. "Wine from faraway lands, the best you will ever taste!"

"Wine? Wine!? Poison! Poison for Polyphemus! Time to die, intruder," said Polyphemus, raising his club. Odysseus quickly raised his hands in protest, and answered him.

"Wait! I can prove that this is good wine. Watch! I will have not one, but two of my men drink it," Odysseus quickly said. "Kamos, Tekton! Over here. I have wine for you."

Kamos and Tekton shyly shuffled over, moving slowly so as to not incur more wrath from the cyclops. The cask was popped open, and Odysseus poured wine into their mouths. The taste was immediately familiar to them, and they were enchanted by the flavor.

"This is the best wine I have ever had!"

"Please, give us more wine! It is incredible."

Polyphemus heard these praises, and snatched the wine from Odysseus. He greedily chugged it, holding it above him and letting it pour with abundance. Quickly he had drained the whole thing. He threw the cask against the wall and laughed.

"Wine! Yes, yes, wine! A good gift for the mighty cyclops, for the mighty Polyphemus. More, more, more! The other cask, NOW." 

Odysseus popped open the second cask, and humbly offered it to Polyphemus. Once again, Polyphemus drank his fill. This time, he left a little bit of wine for his new guest.

"Stranger, thank you for the wine. What is your name?"

"My name is Nobody."

"Thank you, Nobody. I see now that you have brought a feast to my cave. Food, and wine! More food than I could care to eat," laughed Polyphemus. 

"I must be mistaken, great Polyphemus," said Nobody. "We have only brought this wine as tribute, no food."

Polyphemus laughed again. "Ha! Oh, you are indeed mistaken, Nobody! For you see, you have brought all of these men for me to eat. And to thank you for your gift, I will reward you. You will be the final man to die!"

"What? But, w-"

Nobody was interrupted by Polyphemus grabbing Kamos and Tekton with one hand each. They screamed, struggling to escape. Unfortunately, the grip of the cyclops was too much to escape from. Polyphemus bludgeoned Kamos against the cave wall, swinging with great speed. The flesh hitting the stone released a gruesome cracking and squelching sound. He repeated the same swing for Tekton. Polyphemus raised the lifeless crew to his mouth, and began to chew on their bloodied ends. 

Nobody stared in shock. The entire crew stared in shock. But the time for shock quickly passed, they needed to prepare to survive. Swords were drawn, formations were made. The vision of an owl entered Nobody's mind, searing into his eyelids even as he was awake.

"Athena!"

"I see you can use my help. Behold, my blessing," she announced. Her voice thundered in his mind. He began to act, feeling a strange sense of power and tranquility. As if automatic, Nobody was giving orders to his surviving crew, and stepping forward to fight himself. His crew surrounded Polyphemus, and began to slash at him with their swords. 

Nobody felt the support of the goddess flow through his mind. He picked up on every detail in the fight, including the position of every soldier, his own position, and subtle indications of what Polyphemus would do next. He felt as though his mind was working to its maximum performance, both in terms of speed and effectiveness. Polyphemus tensed his muscles, coregraphing his next strike.

"Eurylochus, back!"

Polyphemus struck the ground right where Eurylochus had once stood. With this commitment, the rest of the crew slashed at him more. He roared in pain, and swung his arms around, dropping Tekton and Kamos. All of his attacks were avoided.

"Dodge! Retreat! He can't hurt us if he can't hit us," Nobody called out. He kept careful notice of how this battle was evolving.

Polyphemus wailed in anguish. These thieves had become more than a nuisance, they were a threat. He ran over to his wall, and grabbed a large club. The Achaeans pursued him. 

"He has a club. Watch out!"

Polyphemus swung his club at a group of pursuers, who had barely had time to dart out of the way before his blow struck. It was as if they could see him swing before it actually happened. Despite missing, the impact of the club sent a shockwave through the ground. One of the thieves staggered and tripped.

"Polites! Polites!"

Polyphemus raised his club again, finding this thief crawling on the ground, desperately trying to scramble back up and escape. Too late. Polyphemus swung his club on the ground. The impact crushed Polites. Muscle, skin, bone, and other internal organs splattered across the hard stone floor.

"He has a club! Back away, back away," commanded Nobody.

Polyphemus raised his club to the air and cackled with satisfaction. "You've had your treachery, Nobody. But all of your men are going to die! I'm going to..." Polyphemus slurred his words, and began to stumble. He collapsed in front of the entrance to the cave. He passed out, and began snoring.

"Polites..." said Nobody, and he rushed over. Polites was looking up, adrenaline racing through what was left of his body.

"Captain?"

"Polites." He looked at him, tears began to well up. 

"It hurts, Captain. It hurts."

"I know, Polites. I know." He reached into his pack, and withdrew the last of the wine.

"I mixed Lotus Jelly into this wine. Here, drink."

The wine poured over his lips entering his mouth. Polites smiled. His mouth was bloody, and his body was beyond broken, but he was smiling.

"Captain! That is good! That is very good..."

"Polites..."

"You remember to take care of the prince, yeah? We had some good times together. I always wondered who he would grow up to be..."

He placed his forehead on Polites's head. For the next few moments, they simply breathed together. Inhale. Exhale. The tempo for Polites slowed down. Inhale. Pause. Exhale. Pause. There came a time when Polites did not inhale again. 

Another soul sent to Hades.

Chapter Text

"Alright then, stand up. We have work to do."

The voice of Athena still instructed Nobody. He had just watched Polites die, and was paying his respects.

"Can we not have a moment of peace? A moment to remember the fallen?"

"They're already dead. There's nothing more that you can do for them. You don't have much time before he wakes up, so you need to act quickly."

Nobody stood up, his face flushed with tears. He turned to face his men, their faces full of shock and sadness. They gripped their swords tightly, the blades soaked with the blood of the Cyclops. 

"Captain. What happened to Polyphemus? Why did he collapse like this?"

"I mixed Lotus into his wine. It took some time for it to take effect, but he sleeps now."

"Let's kill him!"

Nobody raised his hand, gesturing for them to stop. "He is blocking our way out of here. If we kill him now, we'll be trapped. We need to weaken him, but keep him alive."

The crew nodded in agreement. Eurylochus spoke.

"What would you have us do?"

Nobody pointed to the club that Polyphemus dropped on the floor. 

"We'll use that to gouge his eye. First, we'll need to sharpen one end of it with our swords."

They worked quickly, whittling down the wooden club to a sharp point. On top of that, they carved some simple handles onto the other end, enough so they could all grip it as a group. They sheathed their swords, and picked up their new giant spear as a group.

"Remember, we need him to move away from the entrance. Once we blind him, we should retreat deeper into the cave until he moves."

Polyphemus laid there, still snoring. The crew backed up with the spear, giving them enough space to give them a running start. 

"Now!"

They began to run at Polyphemus, the spear aimed at his eye. They picked up momentum. At their top speed, the spear carried forward into the eye. The spear pierced deeply, going through both the eyelid and the eyeball. It was a gruesome sight to behold.

Polyphemus screamed in pain. His mind was still weary from the Lotus wine, but the pain had been enough to shock him awake. He screamed some more, wailing in anguish. He clutched his broken eye with his hands, trying to relieve some of the suffering. Polyphemus thrashed about, trying to blindly knock away the threats. The crew had already retreated deeper into the cave. 

Polyphemus cried out. His cries reverberated through the cave, and echoed out. Someone heard him.

"Polyphemus!? Why do you cry out? Who hurts you?"

The crew steadied themselves, hearing the voices of more cyclopes outside. They lurked in silence. Polyphemus gestured his hands around blindly.

"It was Nobody! Nobody!"

There was a pause. "If Nobody hurts you, there is nothing for us to worry about. Do not bother us further, Polyphemus."

"Nooooooooo. Nobody! Nobody!" 

The rest of them did not respond. They had already left. Polyphemus barrelled deeper into the cave, trying to trample those who had harmed him. He couldn't see, and was running around randomly. Luckily, the crew had stuck to the walls, and avoided the rampage. 

Polyphemus began to realize that he would not get his revenge. He sat down in defeat. He buried his face in his hands, and began to weep. The pain was immense, with the tears stinging his open wound. 

"Let's get out of here," whispered Nobody. 

They crept out silently as Polyphemus cried. The entire crew escaped, and ran towards the beach. However, Nobody paused at the entrance to the cave, and turned his head to look at Polyphemus one last time. Suddenly, pain surged in his head, and an owl seared his eyelids.

"Why do you leave so soon!? Have you forgotten my lessons? Kill him, and end this!" The voice of Athena commanded.

"No..."

"No? What are you talking about!?"

"Let this be a lesson to the cyclops. A lesson for all that would threaten their guests. He'll remember his transgressions for the rest of his life. He'll remember us..."

"Don't!"

"...He'll remember ME!"

"Stop!"

"Polyphemus," Nobody called out. "Remember the pain you feel now, and know that you were punished for your violence against us. Know that you were not defeated by Nobody. You were defeated by me, Odysseus!"

Polyphemus yelled in pain and frustration.

"I am Odysseus, King of Ithaca! I hail from Ithaca, leading victorious soldiers home after the Trojan War. My son, Telemachus, and my wife, Penelope, await my return. You tried to keep me from them, and you have paid in suffering! Goodbye, Polyphemus. And good riddance!"

Odysseus hurried outside, and joined the crew in their ship. He jumped inside just as they were setting off. Suddenly, the owl reappeared in his mind with a vengeance. The headache was even worse than usual, it felt as if the talons of the owl were ripping apart his brain. He could not stand it, clutching his head and collapsing. 

"You absolute fool! How could you be so reckless!?"

"Athena?"

"You deliberately disobeyed me! When I instructed you from reason. Do you have anything to say for yourself!?"

"I... I wanted him to know it was me. I wanted vengeance for my men. I wanted him to know my true name."

"Reckless. Foolish. You think your dead friends care about this? Wrong. All you've done is put yourself in more danger. I can't believe this! I thought I taught you better than this," Athena yelled.

"You forget that I'm down here too! Not like you, up there on Olympus. I have to live with my mistakes, I have to face my crew after I have failed them. I don't have the luxury of putting my emotions aside."

"You invoke your crew, and yet you have brought danger to them as well! Don't even consider lecturing me on this. You're wrong!"

Odysseus felt another surge of pain. Athena was punishing him. Nevertheless, he gritted his teeth and responded.

"How are we in any more danger? Our foe was blinded, and he can't reach us out here. We'll be in Ithaca before he even knows it."

"You fail to see even the most basic consequences of your actions. You ignore my teaching, and squander my support. What a waste. What a waste! If you won't listen to me, I'm leaving. Goodbye, Odysseus."

The headache elevated to a migraine. The owl in his mind started flapping its wings, preparing for takeoff. Somehow, it felt as if it was bursting out of his skull, and then flew away. Horrible pain, but then it faded. He was on his own now.

"Captain. Are you hurt? We saw you collapse, and then start mumbling to yourself. We figured it must be a vision from the gods, so we dared not interfere."

Odysseus shambled up onto his feet, his head still pounding.

"Better now, I think. I'm not sure anymore. Let's get back to the main ship. I know we got less than we wanted from the cyclops, but we can give what we can to the rest of the fleet."

On Olympus, Athena screamed in frustration. When she departed from Odysseus's mind, she made it hurt on purpose.

"I can't believe this..." she muttered. Her mind raced with frustration, a rarity for her. Athena's mind was typically the pinnacle of reason, and she easily brushed away distractions. But this time, she couldn't stop thinking about how angry she was. She could feel herself thinking poorly because of this, which frustrated her further, as she was not meeting the high expectations she had for herself. Which would cause her to get angrier, and think worse. It was a brutal feedback. She stewed, finally slumping down onto a bench.

Aphrodite watched, having entered the room several minutes ago. She noticed that Athena was in an argument, and she knew better than to interrupt. After Athena slumped onto the bench, Aphrodite slowly stepped forward, revealing herself.

"Hey, Athena..." she quietly said.

"What do you want!? Can't you see I'm busy over here?"

Aphrodite simply stood there in silence, looking at her.

"I'm not really in the mood for your antics. Leave!"

Aphrodite blinked, her lashes like brushes.

"Didn't you hear me!? Get out!"

Aphrodite continued to stand, her expression unchanging.

"Just go!"

Blink.

"Leave me alone!"

Blink. 

Athena gave a deep, frustrated sigh. She turned away, annoyed by Aphrodite just standing there and saying nothing. With Aphrodite out of her field of view, it was easy for Athena to pretend she was alone again. She gave another sigh. She kept to herself for a few seconds, but she didn't hear Aphrodite leave yet. Athena turned back around, Aphrodite had not moved.

"Why are you still standing there!?"

Blink.

"Fine. What did you want to talk to me about?"

Blink.

"Ugh! Why are you here, anyway? Do you want a favor from me or something? Say something!"

Blink.

Athena gritted her teeth. Earlier, she was frustrated with Odysseus. Then, she was frustrated with herself. Now, she was frustrated at Aphrodite.

"I killed everyone at Troy! That horse was my idea! I gave it to Odysseus in a dream. Now they're all dead. Leave!"

Aphrodite frowned. A deep frown, one that couldn't be forced away. But she didn't leave. Instead, she slowly walked towards Athena.

"Stop that. We are NOT friends. Go away!"

Aphrodite was still frowning, but she approached. Finally, she sat down near Athena on the bench.

"Why are you still here?"

Aphrodite just frowned at her. 

Athena was perplexed. Frustrated. Confused. Angry. And, at this point, tired. She grew tired of this strange game Aphrodite was playing.

"Ugh, fine. I'll just ignore you. You'll get bored, and we'll go back to living our lives."

Athena turned away, looking out the window into the mortal world. Aphrodite sat near her, looking out the same window. Athena panned the view far away from Odysseus, observing the other Achaeans on their journey home. Virtually all of them were struggling, as well. The exception was Nestor, who was blessed by the gods to have a safe and speedy journey home. Although she was looking forward and not to the side, she could feel Aphrodite's presence remain near her. Annoying at first, but now she was used to it. But the question of why she was here still lingered in her mind. Athena sighed again.

"Okay. Aphrodite, why are you here? Just tell me. Please."

Aphrodite answered her with a hug. It was gentle, yet complete. Her arms wrapped around Athena from the side, squeezing her and pressing their bodies to each other. Aphrodite let her forehead fall onto Athena's shoulder. She felt safe. Athena's frustrations began to melt away. She lingered on this strange feeling of friendship, one that was unfamiliar to her.

"Why are you being nice to me?" Athena whispered. She turned her head to look Aphrodite in the eye, and saw a wide range of emotions on her face. Sadness. Grief. Kindness. Understanding. Love. Friendship.

Aphrodite released her, and revealed the Apple of Discord. The sight of this object hit Athena like a hammer, the wind knocked from her. She stared at it, shocked. How could she do this? Was Aphrodite taunting her? She frowned.

Aphrodite finally spoke, for the first time since her greeting. "Do you ever think about why Eris gave us this? Do you ever think about why she didn't want us to be friends?" She paused, absorbed in thought. "I don't know, either. I've decided that I don't care about her reason. I don't want her to win. I don't want her plan to divide us to succeed." 

Aphrodite put the Apple away. She stared meaningfully into Athena's eyes. She continued.

"I came here today because part of me knew that you would need a friend right now. Even after everything, I wanted to be there for you."

Athena quickly hugged her. Aphrodite hugged her back. She smiled. A strange feeling bubbled up to her face. It was good, but also bad? Athena was not used to this. Her face was red, and there was a lump in her throat. She felt her eyes well up, and she squeezed them shut, the hot tears dripping onto her face. 

"Eris really is the worst, isn't she," said Athena.

Aphrodite laughed. "Yeah, she is."

"I'm sorry about what I said. About Troy. I just wanted to hurt you."

"I know."

Athena sniffed. They held each other for a moment, and separated when the time was right. 

Aphrodite stood up and prepared to leave.

"Aphrodite?"

"Yes?"

"Thank you."

Chapter Text

A goddess walked the halls of Olympus with a spring in her step. She was on her way to Aphrodite's domain. Her appearance was similar to that of Demeter, with some key differences. Where Demeter's dress had dark rich colors, this dress had lighter pastel colors. The detailing on the dress showed drops of rain, budding plants, and flowers. She stepped through the door to Aphrodite's domain, and found her looking out her window. Aphrodite turned to welcome her new visitor.

"Persephone! You're home," said Aphrodite.

She sprang towards Aphrodite, and gave her a hug.

"Oh! Hello there," Aphrodite said, and hugged her back. While they were hugging, Persephone spoke.

"Thank you, thank you, Aphrodite! I don't know what you said to my mom while I was away, but it helped! We've had the best visit together in years," explained Persephone.

They loosened their hug, and looked at each other's faces. They smiled at each other, Aphrodite still surprised. Persephone's expression was glowing, like a spring day warm enough to melt snow.

"Oh, of course, Persephone! It was my pleasure too. Thank you for the visit! Now, come on and sit with me. We can sit and chat, and catch up with each other! How is Hades? How is Cereberus? Everything going okay with you?"

"We are getting better, I think. Hades has been busy with his work, as usual. Honestly, the years of the war put a bit of stress on our relationship. With all the death, Hades had to dedicate more time and effort to housing all of the new shades. Which, unfortunately, made it harder for us to communicate with each other. And my visits back home felt distant, too."

"Oh no! I'm sorry to hear that. But things have been getting better? Tell me more about that."

"For sure! The biggest challenge was finding space in the metaphysical to expand The Underworld into. All of us down there had to help out with that, minor gods too. Anyway, once we created the space and accommodations for the new shades, processing the arrivals became much more smooth!"

Aphrodite nodded. "Great! It's quite the job that you two are doing down there. I don't think I could do it, myself. But enough talk about business, tell me about your love life! Are you and Hades still..." Aphrodite waved her hands in the air near her body, gesturing a sex act.

Persephone blushed, and hid her head in her hands. "Aphrodite!"

"I'll take that as a yes," said Aphrodite, and winked.

Persephone laughed. "Speaking of which, I'm actually going to head back to the Underworld here shortly. I wanted to stop by to pass on a message from my mom. And to catch up, of course!"

"Oh really? What's the message?"

"She wants you to visit. She said she prepared a surprise for you. She asked for you specifically," said Persephone, and she added a wink.

Aphrodite smiled. "Well, I'll be sure to stop by. Thank you again for visiting! This was fun!"

"Bye!"

Aphrodite changed into the winter outfit that she and Hephaestus made. After Persephone left, Aphrodite made her way to Demeter's domain. During her walk, she imagined what kind of surprise Demeter had planned. She thought of several, and smiled at the fun ones. At last, she reached the door to Demeter's domain.

Aphrodite stepped through, and was overwhelmed by the beauty she found inside. The view was breathtaking. The area was lush and full of life. Notably, many of the plants were flowering or in bloom. It was a tapestry of color and detail. Aphrodite was stunned, simply standing there to capture as much of what she could see as possible.

"Aphrodite! Come over here," called Demeter.

She stood proudly in the center of her garden. Demeter was framed by an arch of flowers. She wore a new dress as well. This one was just as elegant as the last, but it borrowed more pastel colors, similar to that of Persephone. Aphrodite ran over to her with glee.

"Demeter! This is amazing. I'm speechless!"

She smiled. "I knew you would like it. We grew it just for you! You have been on my mind recently."

Aphrodite jumped for joy. "For me!? Thank you!"

Demeter bit her lip, a look of nervousness on her face. "I... I have been thinking about what you have said. About opening my heart up to love again. I want to try again. I want to try with you."

Aphrodite smiled warmly. "I would love to! Demeter, I do have to warn you first. My love grows and changes like the seasons. If we get together, I will still be interested in others. Are you okay with this?"

Demeter nodded. "This is the nature of beings like us, Aphrodite. I understand. And I accept."

"Lovely! Oh, we will have so much fun together! Now, show me around."

Demeter hooked her arm into Aphrodite's elbow and they strolled around. The garden was composed of several paths that connected different sections. Each section of the garden was highlighted by a particular theme. They varied based on flower color, season, regions, and much more.

Demeter led them into a section with a variety of roses. They were tall, vibrant, and healthy. Demeter included red, pink, and white roses, allowing them to cross with each other to form a spectrum of color.

"Hold one up, my dear. Sniff."

Aphrodite grabbed a rose by the stem and leaned her face into it. She took a deep inhale, drinking up the scent of it.

"Oh Demeter, I love it!"

"I am so pleased to hear this. I have always believed that the most romantic place in the world is at the heart of a garden."

Aphrodite smiled.

"I like to think that anywhere can be romantic, especially anywhere I am. But I know exactly what you're saying," she laughed. "Show me some more!"

"As you wish."

They followed the path into another part of the garden. This new one included more varieties of flowers. Aphrodite found one she liked that was growing from a hedge, right near their chest level.

"Demeter, come here. Smell this with me!"

They leaned in close to smell the flower. Aphrodite subtly leaned her face close to Demeter's, their cheeks and noses brushing up against each other. As Demeter sniffed, Aphrodite snuck a kiss on her cheek.

"Oh," exclaimed Demeter in surprise.

"Surely you must have expected that," teased Aphrodite. Demeter blushed and smiled shyly.

"I must admit, my mind was focused on the flower." She smiled again, and led them to another flower. "Here, let's give this one a try."

Demeter and Aphrodite stood facing each other, this new flower bloomed between them. They leaned in to sniff the flower together, closing their eyes as if to focus their senses on the aroma. Then, Demeter moved the flower away, and leaned forward to kiss Aphrodite's lips. This time, she was surprised by the kiss. Demeter's lips were cold, but earnest, offering her passion. Aphrodite's lips were soft, warm, and inviting. They grew into the kiss, starting from a surprise and blossoming into a passionate entanglement.

"Mmmm," moaned Aphrodite. After a few seconds, she parted and opened her eyes again. Demeter was smiling with excitement.

"You got me! I'll get you next time," laughed Aphrodite. Demeter chuckled too, surprising herself with that move.

"Perhaps I can show you more of the garden," said Demeter. Aphrodite happily hooked her arm in hers, and Demeter escorted her to the next section. They found themselves in a cradle of yellows, rich like the sun. These flowers were young like the spring.

"Persephone worked on this part of the garden. Her touch of spring is here. Here is where we left off. As you can see, there is an empty garden bed remaining."

"Demeter, every section of this garden has been so pretty! And you did it all for me!? I'm so touched!"

Demeter blushed again, basking in the compliment. "But none of these flowers as beautiful as you, my dear."

Aphrodite bit her lip. "You know exactly what to say to make my heart rush! Now, get ready for your reward..."

Aphrodite made her pose, and a flash of light burst from her, removing her clothes. She presented herself naked to Demeter.

"Now, take a good look! I know the effect I have, so I know to give you as much time as you need." She winked at her.

Demeter stared at her. Her hair framed her face perfectly, with some intentionally stray strands giving her hair texture and drawing the eye downward. Her chest proudly displayed her supple breasts. Her midsection was toned and strong. Her hips were wide and full, supported by her magnificent legs. Aphrodite swiveled around, showing off her backside to Demeter as well.

"Aphrodite... I... I'm speechless."

"Well that makes two of us that have been speechless today. Now, come roll around in these flowers with me!"

Aphrodite eagerly lept into the yellow flowers. Demeter clasped her hands to her mouth in shock and surprise. Aphrodite rolled around, beckoning Demeter to join her. As she disrupted the flowers, pollen released from them, filling the air and sticking to every part of Aphrodite, getting stuck in her hair specifically.

"Oh! I should have been more clear! Aphrodite, those flowers are stil-"

"Achooo!" Aphrodite sneezed.

"Achoo!" She sneezed again.

"Those flowers are still polinating!"

"Achoo! Aaaah... aaah.... aaachooo!"

"Oh dear, let me help you out of there."

"Achoo!"

Demeter rushed in, grabbing Aphrodite's hands and lifting her up and out of the flowerbed.

"Aaa, aaa, aaa... choo!" Aphrodite sneezed again, the allergies following her still. "Achoo!"

Demeter tried to embrace her to comfort her, but before she could, Aphrodite sneezed again.

"Achoo! Oh noooo, I'm sneez- Achoo! I'm sneezing so mu- Achoo!"

Clear snot shot out of her nose and onto her lower body. She raised up an arm to try to cover her nose. She sneezed again.

"Achoo! I... I think I- Achoo!"

Her arm was wet with clear snot. It was all over. Her nose was running too.

"Achoo!"

Aphrodite's eyes were bloodshot with allergies, her eyelids and face swelling.

"Achoo! Oh noooooo. I'm so messy, I'm s- Achoo! Achoo!"

Demeter stood there trying to think of ways to help. Any time she would try to comfort her, Aphrodite would have to back away to avoid sneezing right at her. Aphrodite began to cry, sniffling tears and snot. "I'm not usually like this... Achoo! Oh no, I'm so gross now. Achoo!" She tried to wipe her face some more, but that just brought more pollen up to her nose.

"Aaaaaa, aaaa, aachoo! I can't stop! This is horribl- achoo!"

"Aphrodite, I can summon a rain to wash away your pollen. Do you want me to?"

Aphrodite nodded. "Ye- Achoo! Yes. Yes, please."

Demeter summoned a raincloud, just small enough to rain on Aphrodite specifically. The rain was cold. While it was a pleasant contrast to the hot and inflamed allergies she was feeling, the cold water startled her.

"Ah!" Aphrodite exclaimed. She kept her eyes closed, hopping around trying to stay warm. The cold water washed away all of the pollen and snot. Swelling around her nose and eyes washed away with the crisp, cool rain. Aphrodite hopped out quickly once she was clean, her body shivering and dripping wet.

"Th- thankkk, youuuuu," she said, her teeth chattering against each other while she shivered.

She clutched her arms together as if giving herself a hug, rubbing her arms trying to warm up. Her wet hair flopped over her shoulders, sticking to her skin and dripping. Her breasts and nipples were perky and erect, reacting to the cold. Demeter couldn't help but stare. Aphrodite frowned.

"I'm sorry, Demeter. This is not how things were supposed to go. I, ugh. You had to see me all gross and sneezy. I'm supposed to be sexy." She sniffed.

Demeter began to strip off her dress.

"Don't worry, dear. I'll get you warmed up."

Demeter stepped out to her, now naked, holding her dress in her hand. She draped it over Aphrodite's shoulders, and wrapped her up in it. Aphrodite smiled, already feeling a bit drier.

"Thank you..." she chattered.

"Aphrodite, you are so beautiful. Even when you are a mess. Even when you've sneezed a hundred times and covered yourself in snot. Even when you're shriveled up by my cold rain. Beautiful." Demeter stepped closer. "And yes, sexy."

Aphrodite smiled. She was used to getting these compliments when she looked her best, but she didn't feel her prettiest now.

"You really think so!?"

Demeter nodded, and kissed her. She wrapped her arms around her and they embraced. Demeter was cold, but as they held each other, the two of them warmed up, like the short hours of winter sun shining upon snow. When they finished, Demeter stepped back and smiled warmly.

Although Demeter had already been naked, this was the first time Aphrodite had been able to focus on her. Her body was elegant and refined. Her skin and muscles were toned, but not sleek. Something more, something weathered. Moles, freckles, scars, and other marks could be seen. Goddesses can choose their appearance, Demeter had intentionally kept these, symbols of her life and experiences. Every season adding another year to her immortal life, another ring added to her trunk. She was beautiful. Aphrodite looked her up and down, finding more and more details that captured her attention. She was stunned.

"I see I'm not the only one who stares at a naked body, hmm?" Demeter teased her.

Aphrodite laughed. "What can I say? Demeter, you look good!"

She smiled, her heart warmed by the compliment. Then, she bit her lip again slightly, enamored by Aphrodite's body.

"So.... should we go someplace a little more private?"

Aphrodite bit her lip too, feeling flirty.

"Didn't you say that a garden was the most romantic place?"

Demeter's rain infiltrated the rich soil of the empty garden bed. The dry soil turned to mud. Aphrodite took Demeter by the hand, and stepped in. Their feet sank into the mud up to their ankles.

"Don't tell me you're afraid to get a little dirty, Demeter," Aphrodite teased.

She laughed. "Oh, I know my way around a garden, Aphrodite. My knees are muddy more often than not."

"Muddy knees, hmm?"

Aphrodite plucked a nearby rose and held it between her fingers. Her hand gracefully dropped to her crotch, hiding her vulva behind the flower.

"Smell this flower. I think you'll love it."

Demeter's heart began to race. Blood rushed throughout her body. She felt tingles of anticipation in her head, rippling through down to her fingers and toes. She slowly dropped to her knees, buckling with excitement. Her knees sank into the mud.

Demeter leaned in close to the flower that Aphrodite was holding. She stuck her nose into the petals, and inhaled deeply. The fresh sweet scent of the flower filled her nostrils.

"Mmmm, it smells amazing."

"You did a lovely job growing this flower."

Demeter looked up at Aphrodite, seeing her breasts and hair hanging down, then locking gaze with her eyes.

"Close your eyes."

Demeter closed her eyes, relying on her other senses. She leaned forward again, expecting to smell the rose again. Instead, she found herself feeling the warmth radiate from Aphrodite's skin. She buried her nose between Aphrodite's legs, and inhaled deeply. She drank up Aphrodite's scent, just as she did with the flower.

"Mmmm," Demeter moaned.

Aphrodite felt Demeter bury her nose in her clit, the air rippling across it she inhaled. She moaned lightly, ready for more. Demeter stuck out her tongue onto Aphrodite's clit, passionately licking. Her tongue was freezing; but something about this sensation stirred lust in her heart. A chill gripped her vulva, desperate to feel more.

"I need more, Demeter... I need more," she moaned.

Aphrodite dropped down, her knees sinking into the mud. Aphrodite wrapped her arms around her, and the two of them kissed. Their lips pressed together with passion, sticking their tongues into each other's mouths. Demeter pressed her body into Aphrodite's, rocking her forward. Aphrodite matched her push and answered harder. Bodies wobbled. Soon, they flopped down into the mud together.

"Ah!" Aphrodite happily exclaimed, her head splashing into the mud. She started giggling.

"We're dealing with more than muddy knees now, aren't we?" Demeter laughed.

After this short break to talk, they quickly stuck their tongues in each other again. They rolled around together in the mud, getting it all over their backs. Aphrodite ended up on the bottom, and Demeter propped herself up over her.

Demeter propped herself up with her hands in the mud. She lovingly cradled the side of Aphrodite's face with her hand. Her hand was covered in mud, this gesture muddied up her face.

"Hey! My pretty face! You got me all dirty," Aphrodite giggled.

"Remember how you look sexy even when you're messy?"

Aphrodite blew a kiss up to her.

"Oh, we're just getting started, aren't we?"

Aphrodite sweeped her arms up and down through the mud, clasping clods of it into her hands and showering it over her breasts. She began to rub the mud all over her breasts, smearing it on her. Then, she reached up to Demeter's collarbone, planting muddy handprints on her shoulders. Aphrodite dragged Demeter's face down to her breasts, burying her in the decadent curves. She eagerly followed her lead, exploring Aphrodite's breasts with her nose. She licked her nipples, tasting the rich mineral taste of the wet soil.

"Ohhh," moaned Aphrodite, clasping her to leave behind more handprints.

Demeter propped up again, her face absolutely covered in mud. Aphrodite sweeped again, then reached up to grab Demeter's breasts with her hands. Soon Demeter was left with two muddied handprints on her breasts and a trail leading from her breasts down to her hips. Aphrodite gripped her hips firmly, and then flipped the two of them over.

"Oh Aphrodite, oh!" Demeter exclaimed. They turned over, this time Aphrodite on top of her, Demeter's hair and back getting a fresh coat of mud in it.

"You like that!?"

"I do, I do. More!"

Aphrodite lifted up one of Demeter's legs into the air, and propped it up onto her shoulder. She moved her crotch close to hers; forming the perfect angle for their clits to line up. Aphrodite began to hump her vulva onto Demeter's. They felt their vulvas and clits rub together in utter pleasure. They dripped. Demeter rocked her hips back and forth in perfect time with her.

"Mmm, mmm, oh, oh, yes. Yes!"

Aphrodite clasped her hands with Demeter's. She planted them into the mud. They could feel each other's hands squeeze and tighten as the pleasure increased.

"Aphrodite, I'm going to cum!"

"Scream for me, Demeter. Fill the garden."

Demeter screamed in pleasure. Orgasm rushed through her. She allowed herself to scream freely and loudly, basking in Aphrodite's command. She wanted to please her.

"Oh, Aphrodite! Yes, yes, YESSSS," Demeter screamed.

Aphrodite listened to her screams like music. She watched her quiver underneath her in pleasure. Bringing Demeter this orgasm filled Aphrodite hot sense of accomplishment. This was her domain. She was lust.

Aphrodite continued to grind on her. She rocked her hips back and forth. With every brush of her clit against Demeter's beating vulva, Aphrodite felt herself get closer and closer to orgasm. Her eyes were ablaze.

"Demeter, I'm going to cum!"

Aphrodite felt the orgasm grow from seed to flower. She moaned with pleasure, feeling her muscles contract and relax rapidly. She released Demeter's hands, and allowed herself to collapse on top of her. They came together.

Aphrodite and Demeter panted together for several moments to catch their breath. The erotic sensation of the orgasm remained, but at last they could think and talk freely now.

"Sooooo. What now? Should we get cleaned up?"

Aphrodite laughed. "Not the cold rain again, Demeter! I'd rather stay muddy."

Demeter laughed too. "Okay, as long as you're comfortable when this cakes on us as it dries."

They continued to cuddle there for a while longer, then got up and began to walk back. Aphrodite used her power to put her clothes back on, even though the skin underneath was covered in caked mud. They chatted as Aphrodite prepared to leave. With one more kiss, Aphrodite departed.

Chapter Text

The supplies taken from Polyphemus were devoured almost immediately. Odysseus and the rest of his party distributed their earnings between the rest of the fleet. While it may have been tempting to store most of the supplies on the main ship, sharing it freely was better for morale. Although the food from the cave was enjoyed, they once again needed to look out for more food. 

The detour to the cyclops had not brought them the food they needed to get home, and they lost the lives of Polites, Tekton, and Kamos. Morale was low. Not only that, but the rest of the crew was ignorant to the argument that Odysseus and Athena had. He decided it would be better if they did not know. It would be easier for them to trust his leadership if they still believed he was receiving wisdom from the goddess.

They continued their journey home. Odysseus picked up Astyanax and held him in his arms. With Polites dead, Odysseus lost his most trusted caretaker of Astyanax. 

"Polites is dead, young prince. He won't be around to take care of you," Odysseus explained. He frowned. "He'll never make it home. I... failed him."

Astyanax looked up at him with confusion. Odysseus gritted his teeth, fighting his own emotions. "Don't you worry, Astyanax. I'll get us home."

Hunger crept up to them. Astyanax had become particularly fussy. He began to cry. Odysseus went through his normal list of remedies, including changing him, cleaning him, trying to get him to sleep, and more. Nothing would help. There was no substitute for fresh food. 

Odysseus swallowed his pride, and decided to ask Athena for help. He knelt down, closed his eyes, and raised his gaze to the heavens.

"Athena? Please help us find food, please help us in our journey home."

Odysseus braced himself for the headache and the vision of the owl, but it never came.

They went to the Lotus Tree planter, and Odysseus stared up at the branches. Astyanax had not stopped crying. This was grating on Odysseus. He broke, and decided to pluck another fruit to pacify the prince. He thought to the last time he did this, before he landed on the island of the cyclops.

"Polites..."

Astyanax happily accepted the Lotus Jelly. He giggled and clapped his hands. The crying was over, at least. But Polites was right, they needed real food. Odysseus placed Astyanax on the deck, and tried to pray again.

"Athena?"

No response.

He searched his mind for other gods he could request help from. But the gods are fickle. They require tribute, or a good reason to offer their help. And Odysseus had spurned many gods by destroying Troy. His options were limited.

"Hera? Queen of the gods, the most glorious mother, would you offer your support to this child?"

No response. Hera would have been a promising patron, she favored the Achaeans during the Trojan War, having been spurned by Paris. However, Odysseus had not offered a tribute during his prayer. 

Suddenly, his headache returned. He felt the blood in his head slam against the walls of his skull. This pain was unwelcome, but Odysseus was filled with hope anyway. This could be Athena! He gritted his teeth through the pain, awaiting the owl and her presence. But it did not come. Instead, his heart began to race.

"Boo!" A supernaturally sweet voice startled him. He flinched. A chill ran down his spine. He knew the voice.

"Aphrodite?"

"Yes, handsome! No need to be so nervous around me, I don't bite. Well, as long as you hold up your end of the deal," Aphrodite said. "I understand why Athena communicates with you like this, this is much easier than going down in person. Anyway. As you already know, you've angered her. Not a wise decision from your end. Wise, ha! Sorry. Right, yeah. You two are done. Good luck getting home without her help."

"...why are you telling me this?"

"I'm still looking after Astyanax. So, by extension, I suppose I'll have to look over you, for now. What a lovely little reversal! Your life is now in my hands."

Odysseus shuddered. 

"Don't worry, handsome! You're still in my good graces, for now. Ugh, I threaten your wife and marriage one time, and now you're all skittish around me. I have some advice for you: keep Hera out of your prayers."

"Hera?"

"Yes, she heard your prayer earlier. A prayer with no tribute, no less! Your strange little pairing has earned the audience of a lot of us up here. Otherwise, your prayer probably would have gone unheard. Either way, it's good that you did not get her attention. She is not thrilled with me, putting it lightly. I won't bore you with the details, but we have plenty of reasons not to get along. She might take out her frustrations with me out on you. It wouldn't be the first time, and it won't be the last.

"Good to know. Anything else?"

"Here's the happy advice: Pray to Demeter! Once again, I'll spare you the details, but her and I have gotten along quite lovely recently. Her blessing is exactly what you're looking for."

"Aphrodite?"

"Yes?"

"I never thought I would say this, especially after Troy. But... thank you."

"Oh keep going, you'll make me blush! Goodbye now," sang Aphrodite. With that, the headache ended, and his heartrate returned to normal. 

He stood up. He felt light headed, and stumbled around. Odysseus took a couple steps trying to balance himself, but he fell face first into the Lotus Tree. He was hungry and he was tired. Additionally, speaking to the gods in this manner was quite taxing for mortals. Astyanax laughed, thinking Odysseus had fallen over to be funny. 

"Ughhhh," groaned Odysseus. He tried to stand up again, more carefully this time. This time, when he felt as though he would fall over, he grabbed the trunk of the lotus tree to keep him up. 

"I'm not sure I want to speak to another goddess, little Astyanax," said Odysseus. He looked over to his men, seeing them continue to work the ship, their expressions stone. "But we need all of the help we can get. Not just you, not just me. All of us."

He thought for a moment about Aphrodite's advice. He had no tribute for Hera. He couldn't think of any meanful tribute to offer Demeter either. She was the Goddess of Growth and Harvest, and they had eaten through all of their food supply. Suddenly, his thoughts were interrupted by Astyanax clapping and babbling. He looked over to him, seeing him gesture towards the Lotus Tree. The two of them stared at the fruit. Odysseus pondered for a moment.

"Tekton and Kamos are dead. I see no reason why we should keep this around any longer. Good idea, Astyanax."

Odysseus knelt down, and placed his hand on the trunk of the tree.

"Dear Demeter, Queen of all that grows and Mother of Spring. We humbly offer you this Lotus Tree as tribute. Let this tree serve as a symbol of the eternal growth you provide the world with, a fruit that offers itself up evermore. I ask that you provide your favor to my crew and this child, and serve as a divine mother to him."

Odysseus finished his prayer. He tried to stand up, but could not find the strength to do so. Suddenly, chills rippled through his entire body. These all directed to his head, giving him a brainfreeze. He tried to curl over to cup his hands to his head, but realized that his hand was frozen solid to the tree trunk. It was bitter cold. Such bitter cold that his hand felt as though it was burning. He began to scream. The rest of the crew came rushing in to help, but before they could arrive, a freezing gust of wind knocked them to their feet. White storm clouds appeared in the sky. The wind howled, hurtling thick snowflakes down to the earth. Odysseus felt the frost grip his entire body, starting with the extremities and moving its way deeper. Astyanax screamed and started crying, both out of pain and fear. He listened, but could not rise to help him. The frost bit his nose, his ears, his fingers, and his toes. 

"Captain! Captain! What's going on!?"

Odysseus tried to respond, but found his mind and voice utterly preoccupied by this sudden winter storm. The cold frost had turned to burning. Eventually, it all went numb. Odysseus lost his grip on his consciousness, and passed out.

Meanwhile, Polyphemus sat in his cave, counting his remaining sheep by feeling them with his hands. He patted each one on the back, feeling their pleasant fluff. They replied with a happy bleat, and scurried out to the pasture. Polyphemus stumbled out to follow them, still getting used to his blindness. He felt the sun on his skin, and faced the sea. He yelled out to the ocean, singing his own song of rage:

"Father! I have been attacked and blinded by Odysseus of Ithaca! Punish him with the wrath of our family! Make him pay for his transgressions against us!"

Polyphemus listened, anticipating a response. The tide crashed violently against the shore. Polyphemus smiled, the first time doing so since he had been blinded.

Back on the main ship, the crew was standing over an unconscious Odysseus. The Lotus Tree had been freeze dried, and disintegrated. It was completely gone. Theris carried the now docile Astyanax in his arms. Drips of snowmelt drained across the deck and spilled back into the ocean. Eurylochus shook Odysseus awake.

"Captain!"

Odysseus blinked his eyes. He felt his senses slowly return to him, like a spring field returning to green. As his vision grew, he saw Eurylochus standing over him with a giant grin on his face.

"Eurylochus... what are you so happy about? Ugh, I felt like I was dying. Is everyone okay?"

"More than okay, Captain! Look around!"

He slowly propped up his torso onto his elbows to look around, his body a wilted rose. The sight sprang him full of joy. Vegetables and grains had appeared all around them. Demeter had blessed them! Odysseus laughed, part relief, part delirium, part glee, part disbelief. Eurylochus started laughing too. This joy was infectious, and soon everyone on the deck was laughing and cheering. Eurylochus offered his hand, and helped Odysseus up.

"I can't believe this. This is incredible!"

He picked up some vegetables and happily snarfed them down. He barely had time to chew. He grabbed another, happily taking his fill. His hunger satisfied, he began to think of the rest of his fleet and crew.

"Eurylochus. Shall we start distributing this blessing with the rest of the fleet?"

Eurylochus laughed with glee. "Captain, we don't need to! Demeter blessed the entire fleet. Everything we see here was provided to every ship."

Odysseus nearly fell over with joy. He raised his arms in the air and cheered. The men clapped along with him, chanting Demeter's name. Even Astyanax joined in with the cheering.

"Very good men, very good! Let's get these leftovers stored away for the rest of our journey," announced Odysseus. They did not move to follow his orders, only replying with more laughter. Odysseus raised his brow in confusion.

"Captain, Demeter took care of that too. Not only did she fill the deck with her crops, she refilled our supplies as well!"

Odysseus could no longer contain his joy. He leaped in the air, swinging his fist to the sky. He zoomed around the deck, finding each member of his crew and offering them a hug. At last, the adrenaline from his joy had been spent. He sat down on a bench near Eurylochus, Theris, and Astyanax.

"Captain. For the first time since we left Troy, our supplies will last us all the way to Ithaca. We don't have to worry about landing anywhere else. Next stop: home."

Odysseus smiled. Home.

"Get some rest, Captain. You've earned it."

Chapter Text

Odysseus and Astyanax retired to their sleeping quarters, ready for some much needed rest. Before they could fall asleep, a giant wave crashed into the side of the ship. The water slammed the ship with such force that it sent a shockwave throughout the interior. The massive ship bobbed back in the wake of the wave. Everything that was not secured tumbled to the ground, clattering back and forth across the floor. The hammocks that Odysseus and Astyanax were in swung in the turbulence. 

Astyanax started crying. This cry was uncommon, not from hunger or discomfort, but from fear. 

"Captain! Captain," Eurylochus called down to them. "We need help up here!"

Odysseus looked to Astyanax crying, then looked up to Eurylochus, then back to Astyanax. He grimaced, picturing the poor prince battered by the wind and storm. He remembered the threat from Aphrodite, and the curse she would place on his marriage if Astyanax were to be harmed.

"I'll be right there, let me secure the prince first!"

Odysseus bundled him up with some of Andromache's clothes, then tied him into the hammock. He would be safe here, the hammock free to swing without crashing into anything. Another wave slammed against the ship, knocking Odysseus off his feet. 

"Captain!"

He scrambled back to his feet, climbing a column to keep from falling over again. Astyanax cried harder as he left, but he gritted his teeth and joined Eurylochus.

Water immediately sprayed Odysseus in the face. He blinked rapidly, trying to keep the water out of his eyes. It was hard to tell if this was the spray of the sea or rain. He licked his lips, and tasted the salt of the sea. The sky was shrouded in the darkness of night. It was impossible to differentiate the sea and the sky. Every few seconds, a flash of lightning would illuminate the sky, and refract on the waves.

"Eurylochus!"

"Captain, a storm!" Eurylochus gestured all around. 

Another wave crashed into the ship, soaking the both of them in seawater. Odysseus spit, and wiped his face. Eurylochus yelled so that he would be heard over the storm.

"I've tied down all of the sails already! But I need your help!"

"Eurylochus, I'll keep us steady! Check on the other ships! Have them follow us," Odysseus yelled.

He rushed over to the rudder, and gripped it with his whole body. The storm flapped the rudder out of control. Odysseus wrestled it to get it back in order, water swelling and churning around the rudder. The shear momentum of the water regarded Odysseus with apathy, ignoring his grip. He pressed down again, this time bracing his entire body against the rudder. He fought the sea, trying to keep the ship steady. He wedged his legs into a groove, every muscle in his legs straining to resist the sea. At last, the ship returned to some semblance of control.

The next wave loomed ahead, its crest rapidly climbing into the air. Remaining parallel to the wave would mean certain death, the wave sure to capsize them. Odysseus steered the ship expertly, allowing them to climb up and over the wave safely. He looked behind him, verifying that the rest of his fleet was following him. He could only make out the ship immediately behind, the night and storm veiling the rest.

Odysseus breathed heavy, his muscles weary fighting the sea. Inhale. Exhale. They would make it through this. He had to make it through this. He gritted his teeth. Seconds became minutes. Or perhaps the minutes became seconds. His sense of time was lost, only caring about keeping the ship above the crashing waves. Odysseus lost feeling in his body, dedicating himself to steering the ship. He could no longer tell where he ended and where the ship began; they became one.

"Captain!"

Eurylochus had soldiered through the storm to get to Odysseus.

"Report, Eurylochus!"

"The rest of our fleet follow us, but we can't keep going on like this much longer."

"What would you have me do? Surrender our lives to the storm?"

Another gust of wind sprayed the two of them with rain.

"Of course not, Captain! What should we do!?"

"Just survive! Help me with this rudder!"

Eurylochus dropped down to join Odysseus at the rudder. With the two of them working together, keeping the ship steady was less difficult. At last, the first hint of the sun appeared over the horizon. Rosy-fingered Dawn approached, but her light was obscured by the dark clouds and rain. Even this subtle glimpse of Dawn brought hope to the crew.

"Captain, look! The sun is rising," called out Eurylochus, his voice still washing away in the storm.

"Yes, my friend! We're going to make it out of this. But we've got to keep this going. Gather the rest of the crew, let's get as many hands on deck as possible," Odysseus yelled back, his speech also fighting the wind and rain.

Eurylochus scrambled down to the lower decks. The crew had remained busy, tying down items and scooping out rainwater. He signaled for them to follow, and soon the crew had joined Odysseus at the rudder. They switched places with him, Odysseus flopping over to the side in exhaustion. He breathed heavily, his muscles tingling and sore. 

"Keep our direction proper, sailors," he managed to call out.

"Yes, sir!"

Odysseus collapsed nearby, just far away enough to give the crew the space they needed to steer the ship. Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale. 

"Astyanax?"

"He's okay, Captain. Lysander stayed down there with him."

Odysseus breathed a sigh of relief. "Good."

He laid back, catching his breath further. Rain showered him, but he needed to lie down. The rain would have to be tolerated. As he laid there, he spotted something peculiar in the sky. He raised his arm, pointing up.

"Eurylochus. Do you see that up there? Up in the sky?"

Eurylochus looked up, holding his hand over his face to keep the rain away.

"Yes, Captain. Quite the strange cloud."

"More than a cloud, my friend. That's no ordinary cloud. That's an island! An island in the sky."

"An island in the sky!? That's impossible, captain. Perhaps the stress of the storm has caused you to see things."

"No, Eurylochus, look again. Make no mistake. That is an island. The island of legend! It must be the home of Aeolus, the Wind God."

A wave splashed against the side of the ship, water spraying up into the air and drenching them in seawater.

"That's an interesting island, Captain. But we have our hands full here with the storm. Let's get our focus back to the ship."

Odysseus shook his head. "That island is how we're going to make it through this! I'm going up there to ask the Wind God for their favor. They would be the perfect god to aid us."

The crew heard this, uneasiness murmuring among them. These murmurs grew into voiced protests.

"Captain, you can't go up there. It's too dangerous!"

"We need you down here to help steer the ship."

"If you die, how we will make it home?"

"We should not risk disturbing the gods. You know how dangerous they can be."

"How do you even know that they will help us?"

Odysseus raised his arm to silence them.

"Cease your naysaying now. I am the Captain, and I have made my decision. That is enough."

They looked around to each other nervously. The rain continued to fall down on them.

"But to inspire confidence, I will answer each of your questions," Odysseus continued. "The danger that I would accept by going up there would be mine alone. This Wind God is not the first god I have spoken to, and I will use the decorum I have learned from Athena to stay in their good graces." Odysseus paused, electing to omit the fact that Athena was no longer in his good graces. "Our situation is dire. We need assistance. I don't care who the help comes from, we need it now."

The crew nodded and murmured to each other, this time in agreement.

"We'll help you, Captain! We can steer the ship from down here. Now, let us help you in any way we can."

Odysseus smiled, happy to see his crew willing to undertake this task. "First, we'll need to ride the next wave. Instead of maneuvering around them like we have been doing, we'll steer so that we get lifted up to the top of the wave. From there, we will be close enough to launch a harpoon to the island. I want as many free hands to launch harpoons, the more chances I have the better. Once we have a connection, I will climb up there. From there, you won't see me until I return to the ship safely."

The crew followed his orders. Eurylochus steered the ship, and another wave began to approach them. The massive ship lurched upward, the sea lifting the wood with ease. Their stomaches rose with the ship, creating a uneasy sensation. At the top of the wave, the crew launched their harpoons at the island. Miss. Miss. Hit... but then the hook slipped out. Miss. Hit, but dislodge. Hit! Galen's harpoon had fixed itself in the island, and was strong enough to hold weight. He handed it to Odysseus.

"Best of luck, Captain. Hold on tightly, it's going to be slippery."

Odysseus nodded to him, and grabbed on. The ship began to drop on the other side of the wave, hurdling rapidly back to sea level. Odysseus felt his footing disappear, and he flailed around alone up there. The wind and rain whipped him around, as if he were a flag waving in the wind. He gripped the harpoon tightly, resisting every urge to let go. He closed his eyes and tucked himself into a ball, trying to steady himself. 

Odysseus climbed. One hand ahead of the other. Grip. Feel the slick wet rope try to whick him away. Grip tighter. Pull the rest of his body. Then the next hand. Repeat. His forearms were burning. Next hand. His core was melting. Next hand. Every indication of fatigue was telling him to let go.

"Penelope..." 

Next hand.

"Telemachus..."

Next hand.

The rain had drenched him so thoroughly that he could barely feel it anymore.

Next hand.

He could no longer remember what it felt like to be dry. Could not imagine his feet on solid ground.

Next hand.

At last, he made it to the island. He flopped onto it, and caught his breath. His exhaustion came to claim his debt. He remained on the ground breathing, allowing himself to close his eyes. He felt a gust of wind race over him, the cool air chilling his wet skin.

"Well well well well, look what we have here, Aeolus!"

Odysseus opened his eyes and tilted his head to see the source of the voice. He remained on the ground, seeing this figure turned on his side.

"A mortal. A mortal? A mortal! A mortal!"

Aeolus spoke in a strange pattern. They were physically composed of wind perpetually swirling, forming some fluid semblance of a body. Their expression was as fleeting as the wind, as was their body. At all times, a body part was evaporating away, but more mist would quickly flow in to replace it.

"Aeolus? The wind god?"

"Yes yes yes... yes! I'm pleased to make your acquaintance. Your name, quickly! Now now now now."

Odysseus panted, still struggling to catch his breath. "Odysseus... of Ithaca. We're trying to get home, but a deadly storm blocks our path."

"Of course there is a storm! A storm, a storm, a storm!"

Odysseus furrowed his brow, trying to understand what he was hearing. What he was seeing.

"Aeolus... I apologize for my ignorance. But, what are you?"

"The wind! North, East, South, West, and everything in between. Up, down, left, right. My children, and me. Me, and my children. The gentle breeze. The howling gale. The breath on the fire. The sharp gust."

Odysseus scrambled up to stand. Then, he dropped to a knee to bow.

"Great Wind God Aeolus, I humbly ask for your assistance to deliver us from this storm. I ask that you quell the powerful winds and provide us with a beneficial breeze to bring us home."

"Already done! Done done done."

"What?"

"Go ahead. Look over the edge."

Odysseus carefully crawled out to the edge where he had just climbed. He peered over, and found a gentle blue sea underneath him. Far down below, he could see the distant outlines of his ships floating peacefully on the water.

"What? How? Thank you! You've saved us!"

Aeolus laughed. "Not so fast, mortal. I've only stopped the storm. You haven't heard what else I have to say. What games you have to play."

Odysseus bowed again. "Of course, Great Wind God. What sort of game did you have in mind?"

Aelous materialized a leather bag of wind, as though it emerged from their body. They held it out with their hand, presenting it to Odysseus.

"Behold! A bag of winds. Everything you've been asking for, all contained in this magical pouch. East, North, South, rumbling around in there. The West wind roams freely, ready to carry you all the way to Ithaca!"

Odysseus graciously accepted the bag. "Thank you, Aeolus. What might I offer to repay your generosity?"

Aeolus laughed. Nearby, their children laughed as well.

"All you have to do is keep the bag closed. Don't open it!"

"That's all? There must be something else to consider."

Aeolus laughed again. "Anyone can open that bag! And you're travelling with a crew, correct? They can't open the bag, either. If the bag gets opened by anyone or anything, the storm inside will be released, and you'll be whisked far away. Understand?"

Odysseus nodded. "Of course. I will command my men to not open the bag."

"Command!?" Aeolus laughed. "Good luck with that!"

Odysseus furrowed his brow, feeling a bit annoyed. The laughing had been jovial until this point, but this time it had a mocking tone.

"My men will understand not to open the bag once I have told them what you have told me. They will know not to open the bag."

Aeolus jeered, a cheeky smile on their face. "And how to ensure this? Reason? Ha! Authority? Ha! Let me guess... Loyalty? Hahahaha."

Odysseus frowned. "Yes. All three of those, actually. I'm not sure that I understand what is funny to you."

Aeolus bit their cheek, attempting to stifle further laughter.

"Sure. Sure sure sure. Forget I said anything. Now, let me send you on your way."

Odysseus nodded. "Thank you, Aeolus. We will sing your praises as thanks for the blessing you have bestowed upon us."

Aeolus smiled, basking in the praise. Then, Aeolus swooshed their arms, sending forth a powerful gust of wind, pushing Odysseus off of the island. 

This gust took Odysseus by surprise. He fell with his back facing the sea. He flailed around in freefall. He felt his organs lift and float inside of him, resulting in a queasy feeling. He tried to scream, but couldn't seem to breathe in the air he was falling through. He felt the air resistance vary as his body orientation rolled and changed. Soon, he was facing down, seeing the sea rapidly approach him.

A fall from this height would surely be lethal, even falling into water. As he fell closer to the water, the distant ships from before were present and clear. His ship. The distance between him and the ship swiftly came to a close. Any second now. He was going to crash into the ship! He closed his eyes and gritted his teeth, bracing for impact. 

A sudden burst of wind swept up from the sea and lifted his body, counteracting the speed he had built up during the fall. The wind was powerful enough to cancel out the momentum. Odysseus thudded onto the deck, alive and well.

Chapter Text

"Captain!?"

The crew had seen Odysseus fall out of the sky and land safely onto the deck. He groaned, and laid there for several minutes to rest. He looked around at his crew and Astyanax waiting for him. Clutched tightly in his hand was the Bag of Winds.

As he laid there, Astyanax slowly scrambled up onto his feet. He looked to Odysseus, and lurched one foot in front of the other, struggling to stay balanced. When he was ready, he put his other foot forward. Astyanax was walking! Everyone was excited, but they held their words to not startle the young prince as he walked. With several more steps, Astyanax made it to Odysseus and sat down near him. The crew cheered! Many of them walked over to offer their congratulations to Astyanax on his first steps. 

"Well done, Astyanax. We'll make a man out of you yet," laughed Theris.

Odysseus smiled. "Let's hope he doesn't grow up before we get home. This journey has gone on long enough."

"Captain, what happened up there? As soon as you left, the storm stopped and we enjoyed a peaceful sea," asked Eurylochus.

Odysseus recounted his adventure with Aeolus. He described the fluid and fleeting form of the wind god, as well as their peculiar pattern of speech and personality.

"So, what's in that bag you brought down for us? Did Aeolus bless us with treasure?"

Odysseus scowled. "No, there is no treasure in here. This is the Bag of Winds, granted to us by Aeolus. Their instructions were clear, the bag must not be opened. A terrible storm will be unleashed if we open the bag."

"Of course, Captain. Just curious, is all."

"Don't you forget that. And if anyone else asks, ensure that you tell them the same thing. We must not open the bag. Anyway, I am exhausted. I haven't slept since we hit that storm. Please look after Astyanax while I rest."

"Very good, Odysseus. Thank you again for your work to save us."

He nodded, and retired to his hammock down below.

How long had it been since he tied Astyanax down here to keep him safe? How long had it been since the furious sea battered the side of their ship? It was not worth counting the hours; now was the time for rest. Odysseus found sleep immediately.

-

Odysseus woke up. This was the first time he had felt well rested in days, weeks even. Up on deck, he heard the cheerful din of celebration. He climbed out of the hammock and ventured up on deck, finding several more men than he had anticipated.

"Good morning, Odysseus! Here, have something to eat. Our journey home has been going smoothly."

This crewmate was from a different ship. He looked around, seeing scattered crew members from his entire fleet aboard his main ship. The fleet was sailing in a V-formation, and he could see sailors swinging from ship to ship on ropes.

"It's good to see you, Alexios! I don't get to see you often. But why are you here? Shouldn't you be sailing your own ship?"

Alexios smiled. "That's the thing, Odysseus. Our journey has been so smooth we've finally been able to come visit. But don't worry, I left behind some worthy sailors just in case."

Another sailor approached them and greeted them warmly. "I haven't seen you since Troy, Odysseus. Visits like this are a good reminder that we are an entire fleet, and not just a single ship."

Odysseus clasped his forearm in greeting. "Diokles, you survived the storm! Good to see you."

He chuckled, but then nodded somberly. "I was one of the lucky ones. Several of us were washed overboard. With the raging storm and dark of night, there was no hope for them." He gritted his teeth. "I heard that it was you that stopped the storm. Thanks again."

Odysseus reflected the gesture. "Well, it was Aeolus. I’ll take credit for my part, though. There were many times I thought we were doomed. But I had to hold on. We'll make it home, the hardest part is behind us."

For the next several hours, Odysseus congregated with crew from his other ships. Many of them brought stories similar to that of Diokles and Alexios, telling him of the perils of the storm. Despite that hardship, they enjoyed themselves, feasting on the bounty provided to them by Demeter. The fleet was connected once again. 

"Captain, you're awake," said Lysander. "You slept through the entire day and night! How many hours do you think that was?"

Odysseus yawned. "Well, I needed that. And what a pleasant surprise to see the rest of the fleet here with us. Who's idea was that, anyway? I should thank them."

"It was Eurylochus," Lysander explained. Then, his voice hushed. "He wanted to tell everyone about the wind bag. He told them how important it was to not open it."

Odysseus sighed. "Well, the rest of the fleet didn't need to know that. They could have gone along not knowing it existed. But, at least he told them not to open the bag."

Lysander nodded. He looked around nervously, and leaned in to whisper.

"So, is there actually treasure in there?"

Odysseus glared. "What kind of question is that? I have been perfectly clear. The Bag contains the wind," his voice began to raise. "Why does everyone think there is treasure in the bag!?" He yelled.

The ship went silent, all eyes turned to witness this commotion. Lysander blinked at him, stuck in awkward silence. Odysseus cleared his throat. "Ahem. Lysander, I need you to quell these rumors in your mind, and among the rest of the crew. If there is any more talk of treasure, swiftly correct them."

Lysander blinked again and quickly nodded. He excused himself.

Astyanax was socializing with the rest of the crew, including some new faces from the other ships. He couldn't quite talk yet, but he tried to mimic their expressions and babble along when it felt appropriate. The crew loved it. They treated him as his own man, to their comedic delight.

"So, Astyanax. What do you think of this weather we're having? These winds should get us home quickly," said Phaedrus.

Astyanax nodded in agreement. Odysseus approached.

"Well met, crew. And good morning to you as well, Astyanax."

Astyanax reached out to him, trying out his new walking skill again. He gnawed on a vegetable, his teeth finally large enough for him to chew.

Many of these men were comfortable with Astyanax, as they had been on the journey with him to Ismarus.

"So, Captain. Everyone has been talking about the Wind Bag. Ever since you went to sleep. I'm sure this isn't the first time you've had questions about it," said Etimos.

Odysseus gritted his teeth in anger and scowled, anticipating his question.

"Is it true that there is treasure inside?"

Odysseus slammed his fist into a nearby column in anger. "Stop this, now! There is no treasure. There has never been treasure! Do I have to tell every last one of you that there's no treasure in the bag!?"

Astyanax flinched, startled by the sudden outburst from Odysseus. He began to cry, dropping his gnawed vegetable onto the deck. Odysseus frowned. Everyone was looking at him. He had just made Astyanax cry. Odysseus gave a deep sigh, and glared at his men.

"I do not lose my temper without a good reason. Listen to me carefully. If that bag is opened, we will suffer a worse storm than what we faced before. That bag is our best hope at getting home alive."

Astyanax continued to cry. Odysseus walked away in a huff. He hurried to his hammock, and recovered the wind bag. It was too large to stow into his pack, so he had to carry it with his hand. He was determined to hold onto it; accepting no risk that it could be opened by curious crew.

"How did Aeolus predict this would happen," he muttered to himself. "Well, I suppose this is the cost for the blessing. No matter, I will just have to keep an eye on this until we get home."

Odysseus went back up on deck. Despite his previous outburst, the crew remained in good spirits. Morale was high. He found Astyanax, who had resumed chewing on a vegetable. 

They spent the next several hours sailing. The festivities naturally came to a close, as the crew roped back to their own ships to retire for the night. Ships chased the sun as it sank beyond the horizon. Odysseus stayed awake, keeping the wind bag safely clutched in his hand. He yawned, but was determined to stay awake. He had been awake longer than this before, earlier in the trip and during parts of the war. Plus, he had a clear end goal in mind: home. Knowing that he would be able to rest easy when they made it helped keep him awake.

Eurylochus joined him for the night sailing. He stepped out at Odysseus's side. The calm breeze carried them closer to home. The moon shone above them, illuminating the sea and sky. He glanced over to the Wind Bag that Odysseus was carrying.

"Good evening, Captain. Glad to feel these gentle winds guide us home. How are you feeling?"

Odysseus sighed, more out of disappointment than frustration.

"I have been badgered all day about the Wind Bag. The crew is convinced there's treasure inside. Now I have to stay up and guard it."

Eurylochus frowned. "I've only told them the truth. I followed your orders clearly: 'The Wind Bag must not be opened.' Where is the problem in sharing that?"

"Eurylochus, it would have been better if only a few of us knew about the Wind Bag. I know what you said was correct, but now that the news is out we have lost control over that information," he explained. He paused. "It's similar to the Wind Bag itself. Once it's opened, the storm is impossible to put back in."

Eurylochus nodded. But there was nothing more to say. The two of them sailed in relative silence for the rest of the night. Their conversations were related to the work in keeping the ship operating. But with these favorable winds, that was a manageable task. As the sun started to rise up over the horizon, Eurylochus made preparations to go to sleep.

"Retiring for the day, Captain?"

Odysseus shook his head. Eurylochus retired, and Odysseus remained awake during the day. 

He ate his fill of Demeter's blessing, giving him some needed energy to get through the day. Odysseus skirted around the crew, avoiding conversations and questions about the Wind Bag. He even avoided Astyanax, save for some short pleasantries. The fleet sailed ever onward thanks to the blessing of Aeolus. Odysseus managed to stay up all day, watching the sun disappear into the sea.

He yawned again. This was pushing past his limit. His body craved to go to sleep. Blood soothingly flowed into his brain, demanding him to close his eyes and fall asleep. His breathing decreased to long, heavy breaths mixed with yawns. But he resisted. He forced his eyes open; forced himself to stand up and walk around with the wind bag.

Not much for conversation on this night. Odysseus wasn't in the mood for chatting. And he dare not allow the crew to see him tired like this. He scurried around the ship, checking on key components to make sure everything was running smoothly. At least, he pretended to convince others that he was busy. Convince himself that he was not tired. The sea itself was no ally, either. The gentle churning of water against the side of the ship created a pleasant din that would be perfect to fall asleep to. He closed his eyes, just for a couple seconds, listening to the sea. His legs started to wobble, and he realized he almost fell asleep. He sharply woke himself up again, shaking his head vigorously. Somehow, the sun started to rise.

Every passing minute was another one without sleep. Odysseus lost track of time. He held on tightly to the Wind Bag. The day passed. Perhaps he was only imagining it. It was dark again. This night was more difficult than the last. Somehow, he made it, and the sun beckoned yet another day awake.

He shambled around on the deck, shuffling around his crew and other obstacles. He heard some mumbling from them, perhaps some sort of greeting or conversation. But he was too tired to notice. The sun started to go down again, the dark of night swiftly following. How many days had it been? How many hours? What was it like to feel rested? That feeling was a distant memory. His mind drifted.

When was the last time he stayed awake like this? Not during the war. Sometimes battles raged on for days, but it was foolish to try to fight exhausted. He peeled back through his memories. Penelope! He remembered how she was before giving birth to Telemachus. He was with her for the entirety of her labor. He struggled to remember how long it was. While he did not know the exact hours, he knew that it was a long time. He pictured the look on her face as she struggled with exhaustion. The joy on their faces when Telemachus was born. Penelope... he was coming home.

He took a deep breath. He looked up at the sky. The sun blinded him, and he quickly looked away. Was it not night just now? Did he manage to stay up all night? Or had he simply imagined the sun going down earlier? His eyes burned with the light of the sun; he blinked to try to wash out the pain. Every blink was an ordeal. His eyelids were so heavy, the pleasure of a closed eye was so much to fight.

He thought again of Penelope. If she could stay up all night to deliver a baby, surely he could stay up a little longer. He was so excited to see her. With his eyes closed, her face was pictured so clearly in his mind. He wanted to open his eyes, but this view was so lovely. And it felt so good to keep his eyes closed. Maybe he could stay awake like this, beloved wife in his mind's eye. He smiled.

He lost track of time. How long were his eyes closed? He panicked. Odysseus forced his eyes open. Odysseus was no longer on his ship. He was standing in a field of ethereal grain. Strange mist blotted out the horizon. Figures swayed in this distance, impossible to tell if they were crops or people. The sky was gray. 

"Is this... is this Asphodel? Am I.... dead?" Odysseus wondered.

Suddenly, he was struck by a heavy object. Odysseus was knocked clean to the ground.

"You should be, you ungrateful little wretch," exclaimed a strange voice.

Odysseus groaned. All he could see was the gray sky. Another blow was delivered to his midsection, a blunt impact of pain.

"Whaaa...?"

Another strike, another dramatic explosion of pain.

"What's happening to me?"

Odysseus writhed in pain on the ground. He groaned, feeling blood amplify the pain in his extremities. He was internally bleeding. His breath quickened anticipating another strike. Thud! It happened as soon as he expected it would. But he finally saw a glimpse of his attacker. 

"Hypnos... why?" Odysseus shuddered.

It was indeed Hypnos, the God of Sleep, floating over him. Contrary to his typical expression, Hypnos was fuming with rage.

"Why!?" Hypnos bashed Odysseus once again. "To teach you a lesson, that's why!"

Odysseus winced in pain with every blow. He was too tired to stand up and fight back. Hypnos hit him again.

"You should be dead, you know that!? 'Good old Hypnos, the God of Sleep! What a friendly God. We all love to sleep, of course we love Hypnos.' They mortals all say that. Nobody expects Hypnos to be mean, and I usually don't have to be!"

Odysseus responded only with a groan.

"You stay awake for days. Days! A week, even. Do you think I would let you get away with this!?"

Odysseus shook his head, and raised his arms to try to block another strike. 

"Wait..."

"You should be thanking me! Did you think Hades would let you stay up for that long? That kills mortals. It's so simple, I can't believe I even had to bring you here. If I hadn't, you'd be on your way to Hades for real."

"Wait... I'm not dead?"

"Not my domain, you daft fool. I'm the God of Sleep and Dreams. This is a dream world."

"But this is Asphodel, is it not?"

Hypnos snorted. "It might look like Asphodel. But do you think you're really home when you dream of home? Of course not! This is a dream."

"So... you saved me?"

Hypnos hit him again. "I did save you, you moron. You need to sleep. Or you'll die."

Hypnos sighed. "Okay, I think I got it all out of my system. Phew. I do not have to do that often. Like I was saying earlier, mortals usually know when it's time to sleep. But every once in a while, I have to force sleep on one of you, and bring a bit of pain so that you learn."

"Hypnos. I had a good reason to stay awake. I had to watch over my ship to make it home."

"I don't care. You're staying in here as long as you have to. Believe me, it's for your own good."

Odysseus lingered there on the ground. His organs were crushed. He didn't know how many of his bones were broken. His muscles flexed trying to stand up, but the pain was too severe.

"So what happens now? I feel like I'm dying. Do I wake up when that happens?"

"Most of the time, yes. But it depends on how long you suffer there. Because I'm keeping you asleep as long as it takes for your sleep debt to be paid off. So if you die in here, I'll just send you to a new dream."

Odysseus groaned again. The pain was still severe, but this time it was out of worry. He hoped that his body was still clutching the Wind Bag tightly. He laid there, helpless.

"Well, I hope you learned your lesson. I'll be seeing you later. I expect you to take better care of your sleep schedule from now on."

Hypnos disappeared. Odysseus was left on the ground. He couldn't stand up. His only choice was to lie there in pain. He wondered how long it would take to pay off his sleep debt. He grimaced, imagining lying here like this for that entire time.

Odysseus closed his eyes.

Chapter Text

Odysseus woke up to the sound of water gently crashing against the shore. He couldn't recognize any damage that Hypnos had done to him. He smiled, overjoyed that all of that pain was merely a dream. 

Odysseus opened his eyes, and found himself laying on a beach. He sat up and looked around. This was familiar to him. He knew this coast. Ithaca! Yes, it had to be! It had been over ten years, but he remembered this beach. He sprang up, overjoyed to be finally home. He ran across the sand, excitedly cheering and waving his arms. He jumped for joy, and ran across the beach. He ran and ran, trying to find his crew to celebrate with.

He was alone. 

He glanced over his shoulders again. Somehow, after all of this running, he was on the same beach. He could see his footprints in the sand, but the distance between him and nearby landmarks remained the same. He tried running again, this time set out to traverse as much distance as quickly as possible. 

Odysseus ran. The cry of a baby interrupted him, his momentum coming to a crashing stop.

"Astyanax?"

The crying seemed to come from no particular direction. He was still on that same beach. Crying continued, not getting quieter or louder as he traveled. Odysseus searched for the source.

"Where are you, little Prince?"

He looked high and low. The crying was grating. At least he had practice tolerating it. But he hoped to soothe the baby and stop this crying. There was only sea and sand. Odysseus sat down on the ground in defeat.

He looked down in his arms, and realized he was holding the baby the entire time.

"Astyanax! Where did you come from?"

Odysseus held out his hand to calm the baby, but as he inspected the baby, he realized that this was not Astyanax. This face was unforgettable.

"Telemachus?"

At the sound of his name, the baby stopped crying and smiled up at him. Odysseus felt tears in his eyes. His son! After so long, he was finally holding his son again. A grand smile grew, his gaze fixed on Telemachus. Together they sat, Odysseus basking in the joy of being with his son again. Time passed.

"Odysseus? What are you doing out here?"

He turned his head to find the source of the voice. A woman was standing on the beach behind him. She was strong, beautiful, her expression full of warmth, kindness, cunning, and wit. Penelope! Odysseus thought back to the last time he had seen her: Troy. It had been a trick back then.

"Aphrodite?"

Penelope smiled in laughter. It was full. Full enough that he could see the pattern of her teeth, especially the sharp ones that he was so fond of.

"You big flirt!"

"No, I really want to know! Is that Aphrodite in there?"

She laughed some more, taking steps to embrace him. She leaned in and kissed him. Odysseus closed his eyes, feeling only her touch him and her lips press against his skin. This was heavenly. He missed her so much.

The question remained about whether this was Aphrodite or not. Penelope seemed to deny it, but Aphrodite had done that before in Troy. He tried to remember what she said to him. "All I had to do was not kiss you, that was the main thing I couldn't replicate," was what Aphrodite said. And Penelope had kissed him. It was her!

"Penelope, I love you."

"I love you too."

Odysseus looked down at his arms to look at Telemachus again, and realized he was gone. He panicked, thinking he had lost him. He frantically searched, parting from Penelope abruptly. There was no sign of him.

"Penelope, where is Telemachus!? Where did he go?"

She was confused by the question, stepping back in reaction to his panic. "What are you talking about? He's back at the palace. Just where he always is."

She pointed behind him. He turned, and found himself in a nursery. Telemachus lay sleeping peacefully, another memory seared into his mind. He looked just like he did before Odysseus left for Troy. Odysseus sighed in relief, knowing that Telemachus was safe. 

He turned around to face Penelope again. They were back on the beach. He glanced over his shoulder again to see if the nursery was still there, but he only saw more beach.

"So, what were you saying about Aphrodite earlier? Am I really that beautiful?" 

She asked the question in a teasing manner, both delighted at the compliment and making fun of him. He smiled back.

"I must have just been confused," he replied. "I'd rather call you by your name. The name of my wife: Penelope."

Penelope looked at him, their gazes locked together. He closed his eyes, and leaned into her neck.

"Penelope," he whispered, giving her a kiss.

He slowly brushed his face up to her ear.

"Penelope."

Another kiss. He moved his lips over to hers, guiding himself with eyes closed. 

"Penelope..."

They kissed each other. Her lips tasted just as he remembered. She was home. He inhaled through his nose, the scent of her filling his nostrils. They lingered there in the kiss for a moment, not pushing farther or parting away. Just a moment together.

When they finished their kiss, they opened their eyes and looked at each other again. She smiled again, resting her sharp teeth on top of each other. A quirk that she had always done. There was a new look in her eye, something flirty and eager.

She buried her face in his neck, kissing the soft skin. Tingles rippled from her lips and traveled to his head and below. He tilted his head up, exposing more of his neck and shoulder for her. She followed, making her way down to his collarbone with kisses. Every new kiss from Penelope varied slightly, ranging from quick pecks on his collarbone to deep sucking on his neck. Odysseus ran his hands up and down her back, holding her closely, loving every kiss she gave. 

Penelope began to kiss lower. She was stopped by his cloak, her lips full of the fabric. She grabbed it in play-frustration.

"Odysseus, this is in my way. Take care of it for me, won't you?"

He chuckled at her joke, but his heart beated hot at her kisses and her voice. He scrambled to remove all of his clothes. His fingers tingled with excitement and anticipation, causing him to fumble with the fasteners in his rush. It was hard to focus, he couldn't help but look Penelope in the eyes. At last, he stripped down, standing on the beach naked for her.

"Okay... your turn," he gestured to her, as she was still wearing her dress. She let out a quick snort of glee and flashed another smile.

"Not yet..." she said, her eyes darting down to his crotch. He followed her eyes, and they both looked down to find his cock erect. She noticed how it pointed up, how it tapped against his navel as he twitched in desire.

She leaned in to kiss his collarbone again. He could feel her lips on his skin, and her nose brushing along the side of his neck. She traced his muscles with her nose, kissing slightly lower each time. A kiss for his upper chest. Another at the base of his ribs. Another on the sides of his abs, right above his hip bone. The last one was in the notch between his hip and crotch. Penelope had dropped to her knees now; they sank into the soft sand of the beach.

Her face lingered right near his erect cock. She looked up at him, flashing him another smile. He could only moan in anticipation. His legs trembled, and his cock hungrily throbbed. She wrapped a finger and her thumb around the base of it, and waved it closer to her face. She pulled his cock close enough that it slapped her cheekbone. With the tip of her nose, she prodded his cock and watched it wave, almost snapping immediately back into the erect position.

She stuck out her tongue long and narrow, then gave a slow, methodical lick on his shaft. He felt this lick and longed for more. Longed to be licked again with a wider, wetter tongue. Longed to be inside her mouth. His cock throbbed at her every touch.

She stroked the base of his cock up and down. Her grip was still only the thumb and finger wrapping around the shaft. Her strokes were slow, remaining only on the bottom half of his cock near the base. She was saving the tip for later. He moaned and closed his eyes. He lingered on the sensation of her stroking him, her fingers forming a ring of pleasure that travelled up and down. However, she only did this a few times.

"Odysseus, open your eyes. Look at me."

He moaned again at the sound of her voice, and the anticipation for more. He tilted his head down and opened his eyes. He found her staring at him, their eyes locking instantly. His gaze fell into them, just as he had so many times before. Behind her eyes was a look that he had fallen in love with; one that stirred him like no other. There was a hunger, a burning, and lust. 

"I want you to see this."

With her other hand, she traced her index finger from the base of his cock all the way up to the tip, running her fingertip along his shaft. She swiped across the hole with her finger, collecting all of the precum that had pooled there. Every kiss, every stroke, every word she spoke had made him release all of this. She ran the fluid between her fingers, rubbing them together and opening them to show him. His hands had fallen on the front of his thighs, he clenched himself in lust. With her eyes still fixed with his, she shoved these two fingers into her mouth, slurping up all of the precum.

"Mmmm," she moaned, closing her eyes at the taste.

Odysseus gripped his thighs tighter, his fingertips digging into his muscle. She knew what she was doing. Penelope opened her eyes and looked up at him again. He looked like he was going to combust. She loved the look in his eyes, loved making him feel this way. Her heart stirred as well, hungry and excited to continue. Penelope smiled at him again; this smile beyond her cheerful and flirty smiles from before. She placed her hands over his. 

"Oh Penelope..." he moaned.

"Mmmm," she moaned in reply. "Now can you do me a favor?"

"Anything."

"Hold my hair back for me?"

He grunted in agreement, his hands trembling as they moved to her hair. With his index and middle fingers, he drew the strands of her hair hanging over her face. He tucked her hair to the back of her head, tracing her ears with the tips of his fingers. Odysseus gathered Penelope's hair. 

Now her hands and mouth were free. She placed her left hand on his upper thigh, her fingers tucked into the divet in his pelvis. Her right hand gripped the base of his shaft. Penelope's view switched from his eyes to his cock. With one look, she wrapped her lips around the tip. 

"Ohhh," he moaned. Odysseus tilted his head up into the air and closed his eyes, struggling to process the pleasure.

Penelope lowered her head further, wrapping more of her mouth around his cock. She sank in more and more until he felt his cock stop on the roof of her mouth. 

"Mmmmm," she moaned, the sound escaping through her nose with her mouth full of his cock.

Odysseus could hardly think. Her touch, her mouth, her moans... it was overwhelming. He moaned in tandem with her. Penelope lifted her mouth up while keeping her lips wrapped around his cock, then sucking back down. She began to bob up and down. Odysseus moaned in delight. Hearing him react like this spurred her further, and she began to stroke the base of his cock while her mouth bobbed on the top half of it. 

"Penelope... oh yes, Penelope! Yes, yes, yes!"

She quickened her pace. She flexed her left hand, digging her fingers into his thigh. Her right hand continued to stroke. 

"Mmm, mmm, mmm," she snorted through her nose. 

It was time for her to catch her breath. Penelope raised her head slightly, freeing her mouth to openly breathe. She panted over his cock. Odysseus, still holding her hair, stared down at her with love in his heart. She felt his eyes burning and looked up at him.

"Ohhhh," she panted, showing him a wet smile. "You like that, don't you?"

"I love it."

"Mmmm. I know you do."

He kept her hair held with one hand, then cradled her face with the other. "Take all of the time you need, Penelope."

She laughed. "Oh, you think you can last much longer, huh?"

He chuckled, still feeling lightheaded and tingly. Both of his hands returned to hold her hair. "I guess we'll have to find out together, won't we?"

Penelope bit her lip. Another deep breath. She was ready. 

Penelope wrapped both of her hands around him and grabbed his ass. Her hands were full, squeezing a cheek with each hand. She pulled his hips to her face, swallowing his cock. It was already wet from before, sliding smoothly into her mouth. Before, she stopped at the roof of her mouth. This time, she kept pulling him deeper, opening up the back of her throat to devour him completely. 

"Ohhhh, yesssss," he moaned.

His cock was so big inside her mouth, every heartbeat since he had seen her pulsing blood and lust into it. Penelope began to suck up and down, offering the back of her throat to allow her to get her lips all the way to the base. Odysseus flexed his muscles in ecstasy, his legs began to shake. He gripped her hair tightly, thankful to have something to do with his hands, some sort of outlet for this overwhelming pleasure. Penelope only needed a couple of thrusts into her throat. She slurped her lips up closer to his tip. Her throat was open again. 

"Oh oh oh, yes! Penelope, I..."

She snorted through her nose. She looked up at him again. Two pairs of burning eyes met each other.

"I'm going to cum!"

Odysseus came inside Penelope's mouth. His cock was exploding. It throbbed as it pulsed cum into her mouth. She kept her lips wrapped around the tip. His legs spasmed and wobbled. He kept cumming. He was lost in her eyes. She did not even blink, maintaining eye contact as she swallowed his cum. This orgasm lasted longer than usual, and more cum shot out of his cock. She raised her eyebrows in shock, not expecting this. Somehow, she managed to swallow this too. Penelope took it all. Another moan. She let go of his ass, and pulled her head away.

Odysseus let go of her hair. His orgasm was still rippling through him. He collapsed onto the beach, landing in the soft sand. Penelope laid beside him. She panted, breathing heavily as she caught her breath. He climbed on top of her to cuddle.

"Mmmm," she gently moaned as he kissed her. His lips met hers, bubbling with post-orgasm bliss. 

"That was incredible," he whispered. She smiled.

"I'm glad you liked it! I liked it too."

He kissed her again. "I loved it."

She gave a happy little laugh, satisfied and basking in his praise.

They continued to cuddle. He swirled her hair in his fingers. He played with her hair, sending a finger from above her ear and following a lock of hair all the way down past her neck. She softly smiled, enjoying the attention. The both of them closed their eyes and cuddled in comfort. Odysseus and Penelope remained like this for several moments.

He opened his eyes to look at her again. Her eyes opened, and she met his gaze. He kissed her.

"I've missed you," he told her.

"I've missed you, too. When will you be home?"

The question sent Odysseus crashing back down to reality. He was still here, on this beach. But not really. He had allowed himself to put aside any belief that this was a dream. He wanted to stay here on the beach with her. But now it was time to face reality.

"I'll be home soon, I promise. We're sailing home with the aid of the Wind God Aeolus. I've kept the Wind Bag closed for days."

She nodded at him, gesturing off into the sea.

"I'll be waiting for you. You know that, right?"

With a dramatic change of pace, she grabbed him and started to shake him. She grabbed him by the shoulders and rocked his body back and forth, up and down.

"Wake up! Wake up! Odysseus, you have to wake up," she screamed at him.

"Wake up!"

Chapter Text

Odysseus jolted upright. Eyes forced open, dozens of visual stimuli flashed into his eyes all at once. He was back on his ship. The wooden deck was underneath him, and the sky was above him. Sunlight illuminated the entire scene, it was midday. A coast he knew all too well could be seen in the distance, the coast of Ithaca! His hands were empty. The crew were gathered in a tight huddle around the Wind Bag. His mind gathered all of this information at once, and he quickly realized what was happening.

Odysseus raised his arm out in protest.

"Nooooooooo!"

It was too late. The crew had already opened the Wind Bag. The tight rope holding it closed had been loosened, and hands grasped at the rim to see what was inside. Pressurized air ripped out of the bag, whipping everyone nearby with a sharp gust. Air continued to freely discharge. The pressure forced the opening wider with every moment. The storm had escaped.

Everyone on the ship felt a massive lurch. The air from the Wind Bag had entered the sails, and began to pull them in wild directions. Control of the ship was lost in a near instant. The coast of Ithaca disappeared, his vision sinking away as the distance increased.

"No no no no no," Odysseus muttered. The winds were howling. The crew had turned away, tucking their faces into their elbows to avoid getting torn apart by the force. Odysseus began to crawl towards the gaping Wind Bag, fighting the turbulence. 

Every passing second was a greater distance pushed away from Ithaca. Pushed away from home. 

He gritted his teeth, straining against the air resistance. He pushed himself forward, filled with determination. The bag had to be closed. As Odysseus approached, the winds forced him to tuck his face down. Nearly all of his senses were robbed from him. The screaming storm rang in his ears to deafen him. He squeezed his eyes shut and down to protect them, blinding him. Odysseus had to rely on touch alone. 

At last, he reached the Wind Bag, the exterior still tight and hard due to the pressure inside. It felt as though it was bursting. He felt around for the rope, grasping it with both hands. A quick tug was not enough to seal the bag, the outflow had too much momentum. He planted his feet squarely, just as he had done to steady the rudder in the storm. He looped the rope around his wrists, and heaved with his entire body to close the bag. His legs, core, and back strained against the resistance. The pitch of the wind became sharper, implying the opening had become narrow. He pulled the rope again, finally getting the Bag closed. Odysseus grabbed the neck of the Bag, and fell backward in exhaustion.

The Wind Bag was now closed, but most of the storm was brewing in the sky above them. Dark clouds blotted out the sun, a gray overcast looming over them. Odysseus panted, out of breath.

"Captain, I..."

"Don't."

Eurylochus and the crew were standing over him, their faces filled with shock and worry. And most of all, guilt. Odysseus continued to lay there, catching his breath.

"Where... is... Astyanax?"

"He's safely secured in the lower decks, Captain. We've been taking care of him while you slept."

Odysseus paused. Ithaca was right there. Penelope was in his grasp. He was enraged, but exhausted. Disappointed. 

"I. Cannot. Believe... the height of this treachery. I gave a simple command. All of you, get out of my sight before I throw you overboard."

The crew shuffled away. The din of their footsteps on the wooden deck filled his ears as he laid there with his eyes closed. With a couple more deep breaths, he was ready to stand up. Here he was again, on his familiar ship. It felt as though he dream with Penelope was just a couple minutes ago. He sighed again in disappointment. Odysseus looked around, gathering knowledge about his surroundings. Two cliffs towered over the left and right sides of the ships. The cliffs were bare solid rock, steep and imposing. A narrow straight of water gave enough space for them to sail forward.

"Attention, crew," he announced. "By some sort of divine intervention, none of our ships crashed into the sides of these cliffs here. Let us sail forward, and continue our journey home."

The crew resumed their work, falling into their familiar roles. They looked down to avert their eyes. None of them could bear to look at Odysseus. 

The storm broke. The dark clouds began to spill their rain. Heavy rains drenched them. They braced themselves, expecting a storm similar to the one that almost claimed them before Aeolus. Although the towering cliffs gave a sense of doom, at least they were blocking the wind. The fleet continued onward, their only choices to move forward or backward.

Odysseus took some time to check on Astyanax. He was sitting alone in Odysseus's hammock, wrapped up in one of Andromache's blankets. The blanket formed a hood over him. He sat quietly, hearing the rain rattle on the deck above.

"Hello, Astyanax. Unfortunately we won't be home as quickly as I wanted."

Astyanax babbled something in response, but his demeanor was cold and sullen. He was frightened of the storm.

"Don't worry, little prince. We've been through storms like this before. And we'll get through this one, too," Odysseus said, and patted his head. The blanket was warm and dry, in contrast to Odysseus soaked by the rain. Further attempts to comfort Astyanax would only make him cold and wet. Odysseus made his way back up to the deck. A wall of rain greeted him.

Odysseus positioned himself at the rudder, ready to steer if the storm took a turn for the worse. He peered around. His eyes strained, struggling to see any obstacles. The sky and sea merged together in the heavy rain. Thankfully, it was still daytime, in contrast to that first storm they hit. As he looked around, he spotted some strange movement on the walls of the cliffs. Was that rain trickling down the rocks? Impossible, the movement was traversing side to side, down and up. Water doesn't flow like that. He saw another figure scurry out of hiding on the cliffside. It moved quickly, gone too soon to see any details. It had the overall shape of a human climbing, but the scale was completely off. Based on men of his size, and the distance between him and the cliffs, a human would be much smaller. Odysseus shook his head and looked forward. Was his mind playing tricks on him in the storm? Or was there someone up there? Either way, there was nothing that could be done about it now.

Water churned underneath the oars. With each row from the crew, the ship pierced forward. Turbulent seas sloshed the water in their wake. Up ahead, Odysseus spotted something strange brewing in the water. The sea was boiling, not out of temperature it seemed, but out of pressure. White water amplified, sending waves and bubbles in all directions. Something was emerging from the under the sea.

"Hold!" Odysseus called out. The crew stopped rowing, the ship came gliding to a stop after its momentum died down. It was just in time, as they were about to hit whatever feature this was. Perhaps this was some sort of geologic event happening between these two nearby peaks. The white water fountain became taller and wider. It kept growing and growing, quickly overtaking the ship in its scale. This geyser towered over them, showering seawater in all directions. The bubbling water dispersed, revealing a grand and intimidating figure underneath. The crew recognized him immediately, dropping to their knees and bowing deeply.

Poseidon!

"ODYSSEUS OF ITHACA!" his voice boomed. It was impressive and terrifying, his yell crashing upon them like a wave on the shore. Waves rippled out from Poseidon's core, the top half of his body above the water line. His form was consistent with their imaginations; a sharp crown made from coral, a majestic gray beard soaked with seawater, and his powerful trident gripped in hand. Odysseus stood there, trembling.

"Poseidon..."

As Poseidon emerged, the strange figures on the cliffsides became more excited. Whatever they were trying to hide was gone now. Giants crawled out from behind the rocks, and began to cheer and dance. Laestrygonians! They clapped their hands, in awe of Poseidon. 

Odysseus dropped to his knees, and held out his arms in grateful prayer.

"Poseidon! Bless you, mighty Sea God! You are our salvation, and we dedicate our devotion to you. You have arrived at the perfect time. The sea and storms threatened our lives on our journey home. You are the Lord of both, and we offer our most sincere gratitude for your arrival! We shall sing songs of your power and grace when we are home, and teach them to our children so that they can elevate your glory for generations."

Poseidon had no choice but to laugh. Laughs escaped from him like air from a sunken ship. It was full of amusement, confusion, and contempt, a gradient similar light disappearing in the depths of the ocean. The jeers echoed on the walls of the cliffs, the Laestrygonians joining in the contagious laughter.

"You mortals never fail to surprise me," Poseidon laughed. He looked around for a couple of seconds, observing each and every crew member worshipping him. He basked in it. "I love the devotion! We all do," he said. A wicked smile grew across his face. "But the entitlement! It's enough to make me SICK," his voice boomed. 

"You dare to ask for my blessing!? Deliverance from the storm? You fail to understand. I AM THE STORM."

"Poseidon, w-"

"SILENCE!"

His voice clapped with temper, even the Laestrygonians fell silent.

"Are you actually this ignorant? Or are you pretending to not know what you've done!?"

"Poseidon, please..."

"My son, blinded! Suffering brought upon by a name etched into his mind: Odysseus of Ithaca. What do you have to say for yourself!?"

His mind reeled. Odysseus could barely think. Every part of his will was telling him to run, or to shrivel up into a ball and die immediately. Anything to get out from the terrifying gaze of the Sea God. Somehow, Odysseus managed to connect that Poseidon was talking about Polyphemus.

"We only blinded him to escape his cave. Our damage was only for our own safety. We spared his life!"

"A mistake on your part! To think, he would have never been able to send his prayer to me had you killed him."

This remark stung his pride, like seawater on an open wound. He thought of Athena's warning, knowing that his current doom was the result of his failure to listen to her.

"Poseidon, what would you have us do?"

Poseidon cackled. "After all of this... you still think you have a chance? There's no hope left for you! You have no trick you can play, no lie you can muster, no web you can spin. Look up and witness my grandchildren!"

Odysseus looked up. The Laestrygonians heaved massive rocks over their shoulders, and were waiting for Poseidon's command.

"When I have drowned every last man in your fleet, all that will remain are a feast for them. I want to imagine their teeth chewing on your waterlogged flesh. This will be your last lesson, a lesson to always fear the Sea God!"

Poseidon snapped, and the storm grew in intensity. Instead of a drizzle of water, rocks rained from above. The Laestrygonians cheered and hollered, throwing gigantic boulders from high above. The rocks accelerated with gravity, falling to the ships at great speeds.

These ships were the pride of the Achaean fleet. They were well built, a testament to the craftsmanship of Ithaca. The wood was sturdy. Not only did they pass careful scrutiny under construction, they passed the tests of nature. Vessels that had carried them from Ithaca to Troy, served them during the war, and had weathered years worth of storms. These ships were the result of hundreds of hours of diligent work. And yet, Poseidon and the Laestrygonians made seem as though they were made of twigs.

It all happened so fast. Odysseus looked around, time seeming to move slowly. One of the nearby ships was hit by a boulder, smashing through the wood with ease. Planks cracked and flew in all directions. A giant splash echoed from the sea in response to the boulder. Another boulder pierced through the ship. Catastrophic collapse. The crew screamed. Some of them were thrown into the water by the force of the impact, some of them launched from the crumbling ship, some of them grasped to floating rubble. No hope for them. As soon as any crew touched the water, Poseidon quickly dragged them under like a riptide. Those that disappeared under the water never made it back up. What was once a mighty ship was nothing more than splintered planks of wood. 

But this was just the beginning. Odysseus panned around, witnessing Laestrygonians from the other cliffs destroy more ships. Boulders continued to rain down from the sky. Dozens of them missed the ships, water splashing high into the air as it broke the surface of the water. Their objective was not on accuracy, but on power. For every dozen boulders that missed the ships, at least one landed on its target. Evasive maneuvers were impossible; any reposition would be met with unrelenting barrage.

"Captain! Captain! Capta-"

Screams were cut short. Most of them drowned at Poseidon's will, but some rocks made direct hits to the crew, crushing them instantly. 

"Captain!? Captain!? Captain," the screams continued. The agony seemed to pierce through the sound of rain and destruction. Odysseus dropped to his knees. He could only stare in shock. There was too many dead to count. Entire ships destroyed in a mere moment, their crews ripped down to the depths. There was no time to process, no time to react. Every death was another drop in a pool of suffering. 

Processing the time passing was impossible. So much suffering. Perhaps the psyche deliberately shielded him to avoid shattering. He could only kneel and watch. After an indeterminate amount of time, the storm stopped.

The fleet had been completely destroyed. Only a single ship remained. Odysseus's ship. Planks of wood and supplies floated up to the water surface. Somehow, no bodies floated up. Odysseus grimaced, knowing Poseidon had dragged them down. He imagined the current washing them to the shores of the Laestrygonians, the giants feasting upon their waterlogged flesh. He could not weep, even that did not seem suitable for such an event.

"What have you done?..." he somberly lamented.

Poseidon glared at him, his eyes glowing. His expression contained rage, disgust, even apathy.

"The sea cares not. These forces are beyond you. Gods are above mortals. Be wise to remember this, Odysseus."

Odysseus did not respond. Could not respond.

Poseidon raised his trident. "Your wife and son will never know what happened to you. Their last memory of you is setting off to the sea. My realm," Poseidon announced. "How fitting that your end comes at the sea as well. Your son will grow up knowing that the sea claimed his father's life. I hope that your wife remembers you every time she hears the waves crash upon the shore. When she looks out into the great expanse, I hope that she will picture your face... and understands that it was the sea."

Odysseus pictured Penelope and Telemachus. He remembered when he last kissed her goodbye. This memory brought him back to the present, unclenching the grip that this trauma had on him. Tears rushed to his eyes. But thoughts rushed to his mind. 

Poseidon was right. This was the arena of the gods. Only divine intervention could save them now. He felt the Wind Bag in his hand. Aeolus! A minor god, but a god nonetheless. It was his only hope. He ripped open the Bag, releasing the storms inside. 

"What!?" Poseidon exclaimed.

The wind lurched the ship. The compressed fluid howled as it exited the bag. Its force was immense, enough to lift and push the ship away rapidly. They were off! The entirety of the winds inside escaped; the wind bag was completely consumed. 

They were gone.

Chapter Text

Pigs were grunting and squealing in their pen. The sun was coming up, and they were ready for breakfast. 

"Alright, alright! I'm coming over, stop your whining," a voice called out. 

A woman stepped out with a bucket of food slop for the pigs. She emptied the bucket into several troughs and let the swine devour it. They grunted happily as they all found their own section of the trough to eat from. They stood shoulder to shoulder, but there was no crowding or bumping.

She sighed and smiled, happy to see this chore complete. Her hair was tied up into a bun, and she was wearing sturdy clothes. Getting dirty was guaranteed, but any measure taken to reduce it was taken. Her legs were covered by tall boots that went up to her knees. She wore a wide apron that covered her up from chest to knee. The original color of the fabric was lost to time, stained with muck, blood, waste, and everything else associated with pig farming. 

While they were eating, she stepped into the pig pen, opening and closing several gates. She stood on a raised path in the middle of the pig pen.

"Okay, who is going to be today's winner?" 

The pigs ignored her, focusing on their meal.

"No volunteers? It's a special privilege!"

They finished their meal, but grunted amongst themselves. They huddled together at the edges of the pen. Pigs pressed their bodies on the fences and walls, attempting to maximize their distance from her.

"Well, I guess I'll just have to pick, won't I?"

She calmly walked towards the nearest pig. As she approached, it cowered away and pushed itself into the rest of the herd. The pigs started squealing with agitation, trying to avoid her. She was not in a hurry. Step after step, she cornered one of the pigs. The other pigs realized she was after this one, and shuffled away so that it was isolated. She grabbed it, and wrangled it to a special door connecting to a full wall. She opened it and pushed the pig through, despite its protests. 

This door opened into a corridor. The floor was composed of flat stones, and the walls were stone bricks. This hallway was unremarkable, simply a basic path to connect the pigpen to the greater palace. 

The pig ran away from her quickly, sprinting down the corridor and squealing. She simply walked forward, allowing this pig its outburst. It soon found a closed door at the end of the hallway. It prodded the door with its snout, but it would not open. It slammed against the door with its weight, the hinges rattling. It was no use. She kept walking, eventually catching up to the pig.

"You need help with the door, hmm? What's the rush? All you had to do was wait for me."

She unlocked the door. As soon as the door was open, the pig squeezed in and ran around the perimeter, looking for an escape. This room was closed too. She found a chair to sit on near a fountain, and watched the pig scramble around the room. It ran laps around the perimeter, tried climbing up the walls to reach the windows, and slammed against the doors. There was no escape.

The pig expunged its energy trying to escape, but eventually relented. It walked back over to the woman, still panting.

"Got it all out of your system?"

The pig grunted in reluctant agreement.

"Well, good! I'm not sure what you were so worried about. I'm going to give you a bath and a special dinner!"

The pig grunted with surprised happiness, and hopped into the fountain. She brushed, soaped, and rinsed the pig. It grunted happily at the feeling of the warm water and her touch. After several rounds of scrubbing and rinsing, the pig was clean. It stepped out and she dried it off.

"That wasn't so bad, was it?"

It replied with a happy snort.

"Now you're all ready. Follow me!"

They walked to a locked door at the other side of the room. She opened it, and revealed a stylish dining room. Beautiful windows covered the walls, daylight streaming through them. The table was set up for a formal setting, with plates, bowls, and goblets set up. Decorations were displayed. This was a palace dining room, one of many. This particular room was on the smaller side, only fit to dine a small number of guests. She led the pig to a chair at the end of the table and helped it up. She made her way over to the other side of the table, and sat down. They faced each other.

"I want you to feel like a man again," she said. "We're going to have a proper meal together."

The pig replied with a satisfied grunt.

"Don't worry, there's no pork in here. I understand how that would be awkward."

She began eating. The pig followed along, happily indulging in this feast. It paused at the sight of the wine. She noticed.

"Are you shy about the wine? Look, I'll take a drink too," she said, bringing a goblet to her lips. She tilted it up, taking several gulps. 

"See? There's no magic in this wine."

After this display, the pig drank happily. Together they ate and drank their fill. When they were finished, the pig started to blink heavily. Its head wobbled with drowsiness. Each blink was slower than the last. After a few seconds, its head thudded onto the table, and it began snoring. She walked over.

"The wine isn't magic. I am."

She dragged this pig out of the fancy dining room and into the next room. This room was stone with a table in the center. She heaved the pig up onto the table. It was completely unconscious. It snored on the table, a smile on its face. She smiled too. She walked over to a knife hanging on the wall, clutching it in her hand. The blade was positioned where the head meets the neck. She lined up the knife so that the tip and blade were at the proper angle. With both hands, she shoved it in. A clean kill.

A nearby door burst open. A nymph swung open the door with her arm and rushed in.

"I'm a little busy in here!" The woman exclaimed.

"Don't worry about that, we can take care of it from here," the nymph explained. Several more nymphs shuffled in, and they grabbed knives and tools from the racks.

"What's going on?"

"Circe. We have visitors!"

Odysseus was sitting on the ship. Astyanax was sitting nearby, happily gnawing on one of Demeter's vegetables. He had been spared the horror of Poseidon. Their ship was anchored outside of a new island. He had sent a scouting party to go explore, just as he had done for the Lotus Eaters and the Cyclops. Odysseus stared out to the sea. The sun reflecting on the flat water burned into his eyes, the faces of the fallen forming in his vision. Polites, and so many others. Hundreds dead. The sea looked so peaceful now, it felt like a lie. How could the same sea take so many lives and return to this calm peace? The sea regarded them with apathy.

Astyanax babbled something to him. His voice brought Odysseus back into focus. He was pointing out towards the island, specifically at a man rowing back to the ship alone. Eurylochus! He hitched onto the main ship and climbed up to meet Odysseus and Astyanax.

"Eurylochus, welcome back. What happened to everyone else?"

Eurylochus panted, catching his breath.

"I... they're all... let me sit down."

Odysseus followed him to a bench, where he composed himself. He grabbed something to eat and took a swig of water.

"Okay. I'm ready," said Eurylochus.

"Go on. Give me your full report."

"This island was like any other. We beached and peered around for any danger. No monsters, no beasts. We decided to go further inland. We found a palace there. One even more impressive than yours back home, Captain," Eurylochus explained. Odysseus furrowed his brow, but allowed him to continue.

"We were invited in. She welcomed us freely, her voice like a song. The rest of the crew went in, I stayed outside."

"She? Who?"

"I don't know. She was gorgeous. Long, jet-black hair. Like the night. Her face was fair, her features sharp. Even from outside, her eyes seemed to demand my attention. She filled her dress unlike any woman I have seen. I can still picture her curves tightly wrapped by the dark fabric, the light reflecting off her body, especially her-"

"Eurylochus, get it together. Yes. There was a woman. What did she do?"

"I couldn't see the details. I just had to listen. She invited them in for a meal. She changed them out of their clothes, offering fresh and clean outfits. To be honest, I was a little envious, it sounded amazing. She led them to a grand dining hall, while I snuck around the perimeter to look in the windows. She sat them down at the table, prepared as though she was expecting us. There was even a chair set for me! She brought out a full meal. Wine too. And the main event... roasted pork. My stomach was growling."

Odysseus felt his mouth water.

"Part of me wanted to burst through that window. I wanted to be there. I wanted her to feed me..."

"Stay on topic now."

"Our crew snarfed down the meal like pigs. And then something changed them. Something like magic. They began to transform!"

"Into pigs?"

"Into pigs! They grew tails and ears. Their faces stretched into snouts, and their bodies compressed. They squealed. They slipped out of their new clothes, and scrambled for the exit. I ran away, as quickly as I could. They're pigs!"

Odysseus nodded as Eurylochus finished his story. 

"Well, I'm glad you escaped. Now we know what we're dealing with. I'll give you some time to prepare, then we'll head out to rescue them."

"Rescue them? Captain, no. They're already gone. We're out of our realm here. We just have to accept that and move on."

Odysseus glared. "Abandon them to live the rest of their lives as pigs? We have to go save them! You speak as though they're already dead."

"Save them how? She'll just turn you too. As soon as you step foot in her palace, you'll be under her spell."

"There must be some way."

Eurylochus shook his head. Odysseus grumbled, and stormed off. Astyanax waddled after him. Odysseus geared up. He lowered the rowboat into the water, and prepared to go rescue his men.

Astyanax slumped over the edge of the ship, looking down at Odysseus entering the boat. He babbled and gestured, trying to get his attention.

"What's the matter, little prince? I'm just going to rescue our men and come back. No need to worry."

Astyanax babbled, as if trying to explain something.

"You want me to take you with me? Hmmm."

Odysseus pondered the possibility of bringing Astyanax to the island. He was a little older and stronger now than he was in Troy. And he had been useful with the Cicones. Eurylochus, despite his cowardice, did have some worthy advice. Facing this witch would be more complicated than a simple fight. Perhaps Astyanax could be the key to some sort of weakness.

"Very well, little prince. I'll bring you," Odysseus told him.

Odysseus donned one of Andromache's cloaks. Her pleasant scent had all but faded, now replaced by Odysseus and Astyanax. He secured Astyanax to him, having to loose and rewrap some fabric to account for his growth spurt. Thankfully, he was still small enough to carry. 

Odysseus and Astyanax beached. He stepped out and surveyed the scene. Air whooshed past him at an incredible speed. 

"What was that?"

A cheerful laugh chuckled behind him.

"Hello hello hello!"

Odysseus turned around. He stumbled back a couple of steps. The presence of a god! 

"Hermes!?"

"Yes! It is I, the Messenger of the Gods!"

"What are you doing here!?"

"Yes! Let's get right to the point. I'm very very busy. Your strange little pairing has received the audience of a lot of us. Surely you've heard something similar from Aphrodite. The gods are TALKING," Hermes explained, speaking very quickly. It was as if he was already starting the next sentence before his current one was finished. No pauses. No breaths.

"And when the gods are talking, I have work! And I love my work! If you didn't love this work, there is no way you could last at my job. Hahahaha," he laughed. "Let's keep this going, I say! So, I've got a gift for you. You'll need it if you have a chance against Circe."

"Circe?"

"The witch! Sorry, I forgot that you don't know everyone's names. A powerful magician. She'd turn you into a pig before you even drew your sword. Or bewitch you to fall in love. Not the worst curse, eh? But an obstacle nonetheless. That's why I'm here to help."

"What's the gift?"

"Yes! The gift. A magic flower called Moly. You'll want to eat this before going any further inland. Honestly, even landing here was a bad idea. Don't worry, Hermes is here for the rescue!"

Odysseus stood there in awe. He smiled.

"Hermes... thank you."

Hermes held up a finger. "One moment, stay on hold." He zoomed away, disappearing into a blur. After a few seconds, he returned, the blur screeching to a halt.

"Sorry about that, just had to give another message. Not related to you, of course. I love this job!"

Hermes revealed an uprooted flower, its petals, stem, and roots all intact.

"Moly! A gift from the gods. From me!"

Odysseus accepted it. He gave a deep bow to Hermes.

"Thank you again, Hermes. What can I do to repay such a gift?"

"As if you could! This is a gift, not a trade. Just keep on doing what you're doing. Good luck, now!"

Hermes disappeared in another blur. Gone for good. 

Odysseus smiled. He devoured the Moly, leaving a small portion for Astyanax. Odysseus chewed on the root, grinding it down with his back teeth. The root was sturdy, the texture hard and stubborn. As it broke, the flavor exploded into his mouth, a stark bitter that seemed to creep into every pore. 

"Aaaugh," he muttered as he chewed. He wanted to spit it out, but remained strong. Every chomp from his teeth yielded more of this bitter flavor. He attempted to swallow, nearly gagging on the bitter paste. 

"Root is done. Time for the flower."

He grimaced, and inhaled deeply. Holding his breath, he took a giant bite of the Moly flower. The petals were tolerable, their texture similar to a leaf. The core of the flower secreted an unpleasant ooze in his mouth as he bit into it. The combination of this texture and flavor was nigh unbearable. By comparison, this made the root taste good. He covered his mouth with his hand, suppressing the gagging in the back of his throat. Small tears came to his eyes. He kept chewing. The worst part was over. Everything had combined into an unpleasant mixture of Moly and saliva. It was awful, but at least it was all equally awful. He chewed some more, finally getting it the right consistency to swallow. He forced it down. To wash it down, Odysseus took a swig of water and swished it through his teeth.

"Ugh. Well, that's over with. Time for your portion, Astyanax."

Odysseus knew that this was going to go poorly without preparation. He mashed the Moly into a paste. Root and flower. He opened up Astyanax's mouth and fed the mixture into the back of his mouth, then immediately washed it down with some water. Astyanax swallowed it, then his face turned to disgust. He started crying, feeling betrayed by Odysseus.

"I'm sorry. I didn't like it either."

Astyanax kept crying.

"Something to replace that flavor. Alright?" He withdrew one of Demeter's apples from his pack and gave a slice to Astyanax. The sweet taste masked the bitter Moly. Astyanax stopped crying.

"See? That wasn't so bad," Odysseus said, taking his own bite out of the apple.

"Let's go visit Circe."

Chapter Text

A short walk inland led straight to the palace. It was impossible to miss. The palace was magnificent, a result of decades of hard labor and skilled detailing. The trained eye of Odysseus carefully observed the architecture and decor, finding hints that this palace was not built by mortals. He did not know enough about the gods to define how he knew, he just had a feeling. Perhaps he had picked up some patterns from Athena's dream worlds. The palace before him was more than a single structure, it was a complex. A fortress. He approached the main gate, Astyanax strapped onto his chest.

The massive gate creaked open.

A woman stood at the center of the opening, like a painting framed by the palace. She stood with one foot slightly extended, posing so that her front leg emerged out of a slit in her dress. The muscles on her legs flexed with this pose, tight but not strained. Odysseus couldn't help but stare. The fabric and handiwork of the dress was of high quality, the pattern a uniform black. His eyes darted up and down her body, from feet to face, back down, then back up. His infatuation was no magic; he was protected by the Moly. This was more simple.

"Who's this little piglet you have with you?" She asked. 

Odysseus cleared his throat. She responded before he could answer.

"Oh, where are my manners? Come inside, come inside!"

She beckoned them inside, and they climbed up the steps to follow her. As they entered, the gate behind them slammed shut. The crashing sound was enough to startle Odysseus and Astyanax. They kept walking, following her deeper into the palace.

"You must have journeyed so far, you poor things! Not to worry, all of your troubles are behind you," she announced as they trailed after her. She turned to smile at him as she was finishing her sentence. Odysseus focused his attention on the environment. The walls, the paths, the windows, the decorations. He was trying to chart a mental map of this place in his head. And trying to avoid staring at her backside as she walked. They popped into a quaint room with a closet, revealing dozens of fresh and clean outfits. She gestured to them, and approached Odysseus and Astyanax. She prodded at their clothes.

"Oh no, you have been at sea for so long... I'll take care of you. Please, help yourself to some clean clothes. Don't worry, I'll keep you to your privacy," she said. She left and shut the door behind her.

Odysseus placed Astyanax on the ground beside him. He looked down at this outfit. Crusty. Sweat, grime, and dried seawater were caked into his clothes. He didn't even realize he was this uncomfortable until she revealed these fresh clothes to them. And poor Astyanax, rewearing the same clothes from Andromache day after day. They did use seawater to wash them, but that was not as desirable as these fresh clothes. Odysseus knew he was here on a mission, but he could not resist this gift from her.

He removed Astyanax's clothes and found a new outfit for him. Strange, she happened to have these toddler-sized clothes. After Astyanax was ready, Odysseus stripped down of his own outfit. He glanced at the door, half fearing she would burst through the door now, half hoping she would. But there was no need, she was true to her word and respected their privacy. He tossed his dirty clothes into a pile in the corner. Odysseus and Astyanax emerged to meet her in the main room, already enjoying the clean sensation of fresh clothes. 

They followed her to a new dining room. It was modest, not too large and not too small. Another room added to his mental map. They all sat down together, ignoring the formality and decorum that would usually take place in a room such as this. She produced plates for the three of them, complete with hot meals. It smelled delicious. The meat was fresh, its aroma drifting into the air. His mouth watered. He eyed the pork placed in front of him, desperate to sink his teeth into it. 

He stopped himself at the last second. Pork? Was he about to eat one of his crew? He paused, resisting the urge to eat as the smell filled his nose.

She looked at him with confusion. "Aren't you hungry? You look like you've been sailing for a long time. Please, eat some," she warmly gestured.

He forced a smile. "My lady, you have been so kind to us. I would not wish to impose further. Take the first bite, and we will follow."

Her eyebrow raised in suspicion. "A strange request, traveler. You are the guest."

They stared at each other, neither one of them talking. His mind was whirling. Her eyes were striking, but he knew how dangerous she was. He struggled to keep his mind occupied, telling himself to look away. And yet, this made her more alluring. He looked into her eyes, trying to guess the thoughts stirring in her mind.

"Ah, I understand," she broke the silence. "We're perfect strangers. You're nervous."

Odysseus gulped. "Y-yess," he replied, failing to fake confidence.

"Well, how about I introduce myself. My name is..." she paused, watching him gripped by her every word. She smiled. "...Penelope!"

The name took Odysseus completely by surprise. He clenched his hands into fists underneath the table, trying to hide his emotion. He looked at her again. Her smile was wide, her sharp teeth prominently resting on each other. Just like Penelope. He squeezed his eyes shut, taking a couple of seconds to think. When he opened his eyes, her smile had transformed. Something a little more cheeky, a little more smug. She was clearly pleased with herself after this announcement.

Odysseus cleared his throat. "Well. I'm pleased to meet you, Penelope. That is a beautiful name. My name is..." he paused, mirroring what she did. "...Nobody."

Her smile drained, quickly replaced by a look of frustration. "You expect me to believe that!?"

A smirk crept to his face at this result. "Oh, I thought that we were telling each other fake names."

"What? So you don't think I'm Penelope!?"

Odysseus sat back. "I know you're not."

She glared at him. And then laughed. She raised her goblet. "Got me! How did you know?"

"Don't worry about it," he replied with a smile, clinking his goblet with hers. 

They both raised their goblets to their lips, taking a drink with their unblinking eyes fixed on each other. The metallic clang of their goblets hit the table at the exact same time.

Astyanax had no idea what was going on. He was happily eating as much pork as he desired.

"So, what's your real name, then?" 

She smiled. "Circe. And yours?"

"Odysseus." He smiled back. "So, where did you get the name Penelope from?"

"Just a guess," she lied.

"Just a guess?" He repeated, seeing through her.

They ate together. Odysseus put aside his fears about the pork. He did the math in his head of how long it would take to butcher and cook pork compared to how long his crew was gone. This was probably fine. And it was delicious. That fact was substantial justification in his mind.

She took a sip of wine. "So, what brings you to my island?"

"We fought in a terrible war. It's over now, and now we're sailing home. Clearly the gods must have blessed us to bring us here," he replied. He crafted his answer as he was saying it. He waited to take another bite, anticipating her response.

"Good fortune, indeed. Imagine what your journey would be like if you didn't find me," she laughed. She prodded at his new clothes. "Look at you, a fresh new outfit. And the best meal you've had in weeks."

He smiled again. "Thank you again, Circe."

"You are my guest, Odysseus. I couldn't help but notice... you said 'we'. Are there other travellers with you?" Circe asked.

"Just me and the boy," Odysseus lied.

Her eyebrow raised again, but all she did was laugh. "Really!? Another one of your lies? You expect me to believe that you're not travelling with anyone else?"

How much did she know? What was she implying? How much did she know what he knew? She was witty. This was the most fun Odysseus had in years. His eyes flicked between her left eye and right eye, studying her face and the hints she was giving. Obviously she knew about the crew. But she did know that he knew about the crew. He almost considered dropping the subject. Despite the stakes, chatting with Circe was exhilarating.

He clinked his goblet with hers again, and took another drink. He swallowed. "Got me! I'm actually sailing with an entire ship worth of crew. In fact... no, I shouldn't." He shyly turned his head away.

She leaned in, curious now. "In fact, what? Tell me!" 

"...in fact, I sent out some of my crew to scout this island before I arrived. Did you happen to see them?"

"Hmm. What makes you think I've seen them? They're your men, are they not?"

"They came out to your island, and they never returned."

"And?"

"So you're saying that you didn't see anyone, at all?"

"I'm not saying that. I've seen plenty of people. You, for example."

"Nobody else dressed like me? No sailors?"

Her face hardened. This is the most guarded he had ever seen her. "No. I haven't seen them," she lied.

"That's interesting. So when I was getting changed, all of those old clothes strewn about... were they yours?"

She stared at him, coldly. "What are you implying?"

"Were they here?"

She stayed silent. 

"You turned my men into pigs."

She slumped back and sighed. "Ugh. Why do we pretend to play this little game? When we both know that it has entered the next stage..."

She quickly rose out of her chair. He stood up at the exact same time. Odysseus could feel the cold in the air. A shame. Any pretense of a good time was lost.

"It's a shame it had to come to this, Circe. In all honesty, I was having a really good time."

She sighed. "I was, too. You're so much different than the others that come here. They're all so easy to trick. This was fun."

He gritted his teeth into a smile, happy to hear she felt the same, dreading the fact that they were about to fight. 

"You know, you kind of remind me of my wife," he blurted out. He cringed with embarrassment. What an inappropriate thing to say.

"Penelope? Your crew told me everything I wanted to know. Your wife's name, your son's name, your homeland."

They stepped around the table, keeping a barrier between them. He drew his sword. Astyanax looked on in confusion, disturbed by the change of energy in the room.

"So, what happens now? Do I have to kill you to change my crew back into men?"

"Always rushing to the violence. No, that's not going to happen. You see, this meal gave us the perfect amount of time together for me to cast my spell. You'll be turning into a pig soon enough, as will your little piglet over there."

"His name is Astyanax, thank you very much. And I don't think so. We both ate a flower that makes us immune to your magic."

"Liar! Another one of your lies. I know the flower you speak of: Moly. Mortals like you can't harvest it."

"Hermes delivered it himself."

Circe's eyes filled with terror. She gasped. For once, he was telling the truth. She found her way to a door, still facing him. She nervously felt around for the handle behind her back.

"Well then. I guess that spell won't work on you. I guess I'll have to pull out something a little more straightforward."

Odysseus knew the Moly was protecting him, so he wasn't worried about any magic. Nevertheless, he was curious about her plan.

"Look over there!" She pointed behind him.

He spinned around, anticipating some sort of trap. Some bodyguards? A demonstration of his captive crew? A monster, perhaps? He studied the area for several seconds, hearing the door behind her open and close. Her footsteps disappeared in the distance. All he could do was laugh. He had really fallen for that trick! 

"Okay, Astyanax. You stay here. I have some business to settle. I'll be back before you know it."

Astyanax went back to eating, his face messy. He was pleased that Circe and Odysseus were not fighting in this room.

Odysseus opened the door with his sword drawn. Despite his magical protection, he remained wary against conventional threats. He hustled down the hall in her direction, peering around corners and scanning for traps. His mental map was proving to be useful, his path to Circe was direct. She loudly clamoured through the palace in her attempt to escape. While this allowed her to move quickly, her position was revealed. She scrambled through her palace, moving as though Odysseus was right behind her. In truth, he was several rooms aways, slowly marching forward at a cautious pace.

Odysseus had the advantage. His tactical awareness from the war activated. Circe was panicking. He knew it. His victory was assured, all he had to do now was not throw it away. She retreated to her slaughterhouse, arming herself with a butcher knife. Circe climbed on top of the table, still wet with pig blood. She breathed in rapid, shallow breaths. He was coming.

Odysseus opened the door to the room. He ducked, avoiding a knife thrown by Circe.

"Stay back!" She warned. "I have a whole rack of these."

"Go ahead."

Her hand was shaking. She threw another, the knife clanging against the wall. She started crying.

"Stop!" 

She threw another knife, this one missing as well.

He frowned. It pained him to see her like this. Mere hours ago, they were smiling and laughing together. His frown was overwhelming, but he stepped forward.

He startled her, and she jumped off the table. She threw another knife at him, forcing him to duck, and left to the courtyard. He followed her.

"Get away," she cried.

He frowned, fighting tears himself. "I don't want to kill you."

She held up the butcher knife with both hands, the blade wobbling and shaking. He walked forward as though it didn't exist. With a forceful swing of his sword, her knife fell down to the ground.

With her last piece of defense gone, she knelt to the ground. She was disarmed.

"It wasn't supposed to happen this way." she muttered.

He said nothing. He stepped forward, and held his sword to her neck. She looked up at him, snot and tears streaming down her inflamed face. 

He couldn't do it. He threw his sword to the ground, the metal clanging against the butcher knife. He knelt down next to her.

"What!?" She cried. "What are you doing? It's over."

"I'll decide when it's over."

She kept buried her face in her hands. She sobbed into them. He knelt with her, saying nothing. After several minutes, her crying tapered off. She sniffed snot back into her nose, and used her arm to wipe her face. She looked at him again. He placed his hand on her face, his thumb on her cheekbone and fingers around her ear. Their eyes met, his full of regret and hers filling with relief.

"WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING!?"

Suddenly, a shockwave shattered the air in the courtyard! It had the magnitude of a lightning strike. It blasted them apart, causing their bodies to tumble several times across the ground.

Circe and Odysseus tilted their heads to see the source of this booming voice. It had been the voice of a woman, amplified to the volume of a goddess. Odysseus knew Athena's voice well, and was starting to become familiar with Aphrodite's. This voice was neither. A majestic goddess levitated above them, her dress rippling like it was in wind. Electricity cracked and rippled in her presence. She radiated power. She was adorned with the trapping of peacock feathers, and a grand crown that held up her elegant hairstyle. She carried a scepter, a symbol of her authority. Her expression was one of disappointment and contempt, as if she was just pushed past her patience.

"Hera!" Odysseus and Circe called out in unison, and dropped into a deep bow.

"Don't you remember you have a wife at home, Odysseus!?"

Odysseus gulped. "Hera... I, I, I... it's been over 10 years. I just. I don't know."

"Pathetic! What kind of response is that!?"

"I don't know."

Hera sighed. Odysseus trembled.

"Of course you don't know. I don't have time for this dialogue. I'll get right to it. Your actions at Troy have captured the attention of many gods. As queen of the house, I have a duty to stay informed. So, I decided to come down here myself."

Odysseus did not respond. He listened to her words as they filled the courtyard, listening to the crackling of electricity from her.

"I present a challenge! You are to remain here on this island for one year. Your task: live here with Circe while honoring your marriage. If you can live here without... shall we say... further romantic entanglements, you shall earn my favor."

"Wait! Queen Hera, this is my island," asked Circe. "Are you telling me that I have to keep him here for a whole year?"

Hera hardened her face. "If he fails, the challenge is over. Do with that as you will."

"So... if I seduce him, he can leave?"

"Some restrictions on that. You can't touch him, you can't sleep in the same bed, and you can't present yourself naked for him. If he fails the challenge, it will have to be on his part."

Circe nodded.

"Hera, what is the point of this challenge?" Odysseus asked. "This feels a little contrived. Why do I have to stay a year? Isn't that an additional year away from my wife? Away from my marriage?"

"This is a test of your fidelity. No further questions from you. Circe, any more questions?"

Circe trembled, and shook her head.

"Odysseus. My favor is a precious thing. You would be wise to remember that."

The air began to implode around Hera. Miniature sonic booms released as vanished. Hera was gone, leaving Odysseus and Circe alone, together. 

Chapter Text

Days passed. Weeks passed. Odysseus and his crew spent the time growing accustomed to living on Circe's island. 

The first order of business was to transform the crew back into men. The question of accommodations was easy for Circe to answer. Her palace was massive, there were plenty of extra rooms and space for all of the visitors. To answer the question of the ship, Odysseus and the crew secured it closer to the island. Circe lacked a dock for the ship, but they fashioned a makeshift pier to make it easy to access. The crew helped the nymphs run the palace, tend the gardens and farms, and regularly inspect the ship; they naturally switched their daily work from sea to land. Despite their first encounter with Circe ending with them being transformed, the crew had grown to enjoy island life. 

The nymphs set up a special room for Astyanax. It was separate from Odysseus's room, but in the same general area of the palace. In fact, the crew were all staying in the same general wing. Beyond the daily chores that always needed doing, their time was free for their own. 

Circe sprang out of bed. She had a mission in mind: seduce Odysseus. This would have several benefits. For starters, it would be fun. More importantly, he would fail Hera's challenge, and would be free to leave. As far as visitors go, he was better than most, but Circe preferred her island to herself and her nymphs. She remembered Hera's rules: no touching, no bedsharing, and no stripping for him. Hardly a challenge!  She donned a new dress, one he had never seen before. He wouldn't stand a chance after seeing her in this.

Circe made her way to her breakfast room. Odysseus was already there, alone. This room was rather informal compared to some of her other dining rooms, and doubled as a kitchen and pantry. 

"Good morning, Odysseus!"

He immediately noticed her new outfit. He raised an eyebrow in aroused curiosity. And arousal.

The dress was black. There was a rhombus shaped window at her midsection, extending from her belly button up to her sternum. The window was rather narrow, showing only a fraction of her breasts. The opening was widest at the base of her ribcage, with a ribbon in the middle of this opening. This ribbon could be tied off in the back, keeping this key feature of the dress as tight as the rest of it. The undersides of her breasts were most visible, with the slit showing off just a hint of the gap between them. The dress clung tightly to her body, squeezing her breasts together especially. The length of the dress went all the way down to her ankles.

Odysseus gulped. "G- good morning, Circe."

She slightly bit her lip, subtle enough that he did not notice. It was fun to see him like this.

"Mind if I join you?"

She approached his side, standing over him while he was seated. She reached for a jug on the table, leaning over his shoulder as she stretched. Her breasts hung right near his face, showing the perfect amount to set his imagination ablaze. They captured all of his attention. He stared at them.

"Odysseus, would you like some..."

He lost himself in the slit between her breasts, wondering what it would feel like to explore them. He wanted to shove his face in between them, he wanted to cup each one in his hands an-

"...milk?"

Odysseus jerked his head in the other direction. He was not going to fail the challenge this easily. He forced his eyes closed. A mistake, as the image of Circe's breasts flashed in his mind. The round curvature of them visible in the window and disappearing deeper in. He blinked rapidly, trying to clear his mind of this temptation.

"No thank you," he managed to say.

"Really? I have plenty of milk for you. And you're my guest, after all."

She wouldn't touch him, but she did shift to the other side of the chair so that her breasts were in his face again. He was about to break. He needed to do something drastic; he slammed his head down onto the table.

She stepped back in surprise. "What's the matter with you!?"

He raised his head, focusing on the new pain in his head. He turned to face her. "What's the matter with me? What's the matter with you? You heard what Hera said! I can't be with you."

She laughed. "When did I ever say that I wanted to be with you? All I did was ask if you wanted milk!"

"Milk!? Are you really saying you weren't trying to say anything else?"

She stepped forward, leaning down to make eye contact with him. She reached her arm over his chair, grabbing specifically the chair, not him. From this angle, her breasts were once again prominently displayed in his face.

"Maybe you're just seeing what you want to see."

He kept his eyes fixed on hers, resisting his urge to dart his eyes down into her breasts. She knew what she was doing. He knew what she was doing. She knew that he knew, and he knew that she knew that he knew. So many layers, so much intrigue. Odysseus loved it. These kinds of games they would play were almost as intoxicating as the allure of her body. A smile crept up to his face.

"Oh. It must have been my mistake. I would love some milk, Circe."

She winked, and poured some milk into his cup. The sound of liquid pouring filled the room, Circe listening for when the cup was full. He slowly grabbed it, feeling for it with his hand while maintaining eye contact with her. He brought it to his lips and drank, unblinking.

"Ahhhh! Thank you."

"You're welcome."

The rest of the day was uneventful. Circe and Odysseus congregated with the crew and nymphs, who seemed to get along. Astyanax was playing with a nymph named Harmonia. As they entered, another nymph named Ianthe giggled.

"It seems like those two go everywhere together," Ianthe teased.

"You're right, I don't think I've seen the two of them apart since we landed," Lysander replied.

Circe and Odysseus stepped away from each other, and shyly looked in opposite directions.

"Don't worry, Captain. We're just giving you a hard time," said Etimos.

At the end of the day, Circe and Odysseus retired to their bedrooms. Circe followed Hera's rules, maintaining her own sleeping quarters separate from Odysseus. However, the rooms were right next to each other. 

"Goodnight, Odysseus," said Circe.

"Goodnight, Circe."

Odysseus entered his room alone. He took off his day clothes, and climbed into bed. When his head hit the pillow, he heard shuffling on the other side of the wall. He closed his eyes and listened. Circe was taking off her clothes too. He followed the sound of her every footstep as she climbed into bed. He could hear the faintest thudding of the bedframe hitting his wall as she climbed in.

"Thin walls, aren't these?"

"What are you implying, Odysseus?"

"Nothing. Just making an observation."

"So. What do you think of Hera's challenge? Do you really think you can last a whole year?"

"What are you implying, Circe?"

"Nothing. Just asking a question."

The wall separated them. He only listened to her voice, using his imagination to picture her expression.

"Do you want me to come over?" He asked.

She didn't reply. But he could hear her breathe.

"Circe?"

"Yes?"

"Did you hear my question?"

"Yes."

"Yes, you heard my question? Or yes, you want me to come over?"

She laughed. "Goodnight, Odysseus."

He laid there in silence, anticipating her to say something else. Instead, her breaths got slower and longer. He listened to the sound of her breathing, imagining her chest rise and fall with every inhale and exhale. They turned to snores, a confirmation that she fell asleep. Odysseus smiled; even her snores were adorable. Soon he joined her in sleep. 

Circe woke up the next morning with a smile on her face. Everything was proceeding as she planned. She hopped out of bed and went to work. She withdrew her shortest dress and made some alterations. When she was finished, she put it on and scurried out to the dining room.

The room where they ate yesterday was empty. She frowned, but moved along. She made her way across the palace, going to her next guess. She peeked her head inside, finding a couple of nymphs, Melia and Ione. They noticed her.

"Looking for someone?" Melia playfully said.

"Looking for Odysseus?" Ione corrected her and giggled.

Circe rolled her eyes. "Good guess. Have you seen him?"

"Yes, we saw him. He was doing the same thing, he was looking for you." More giggling. "Nice outfit, by the way."

"Thanks," Circe replied. She shyly smiled, hiding her reaction from the nymphs. He was looking for her! Her plan to seduce him was working even faster than she thought. She felt something strange; she was excited to see him too.

Circe found Odysseus in the next room. Odysseus noticed some fresh alterations, cuts and seams made in haste. This dress was looser than the other one and flowy. It lacked any unique features like the previous dress, but was still very flattering. The key difference was the length. The dress was cut short, to the point where it was straddling the definition of a dress. It extended just beyond her buttocks and the top half of her thighs. She wore nothing underneath. He looked her up and down, drooling over the way the light reflected off her bare legs.

"What are you looking at?" She teased in a play-accusatory tone.

"Oh, I don't know. Is there something you want me to look at?" He replied. 

Circe sat down in a chair next to his. "You know, I had a dream about you. About us."

"Oh really? What happened in the dream?"

"Oh, nothing," she lied.

He grinned. "Well. I also had a dream about you. Where we did... nothing."

She strolled over to a nearby shelf. There were some dishes atop the shelf, she extended her arms to reach for them. The dress hiked up as she stretched her arms, lifting the bottom up slightly. It was just enough to reveal the lower curve of her ass. He stared at it. Even though she was standing over by the shelf, he could see how plump, round, and firm her butt cheeks were. The view was gone all too soon, as she grabbed the dish and went back down. She didn't turn around yet, still showing her backside to him. Instead, she looked over her shoulder.

"Is there anything you want?" She asked, her voice airy.

Odysseus shook his head, gesturing that he had helped himself. 

"Okay then," Circe said. With her face looking at him, she knocked over the dish. It clattered to the floor. "Oops."

Circe bent over to pick up the dish from the floor. She kept her knees straight, her hamstrings stretching as she bent over. A demonstration in her flexibility. The short dress rode all the way up to her lower back, revealing her ass. Odysseus had to look. This was exactly what he wanted to see, her plump buttcheeks with her vulva and butthole clearly visible. He was sitting too far away to see any details, but he knew exactly what he was looking at. He longed to leap out of the chair and claw his way over the table to her; longing to bury his face in her ass and lick to his heart's desire. His muscles twitched at the thought. In a disappointingly short time, Circe stood back up and turned around. All he got was a glance.

"Hey! Isn't that against the rules? You're not allowed to present yourself naked to me."

She gestured to her outfit. "I'm clearly wearing a dress. What are you talking about?"

"Then what did I see just now?"

She smirked. "I don't know. What did you see?" She walked to him and leaned to whisper to him. He could feel her hot breath on his neck. "...Tell me. Every. Last. Detail."

Arousal surged across his entire body. His head felt hot, his face was blushing, and his cock hardened. And this wasn't the first time this happened. So many choices she made stirred him: when she first walked in, when she first spoke, the way the air seemed to move around her. Not to mention the peek of her ass when she reached up and when she bent over. He couldn't think about anything else.

On top of all of this, there was the fact that she knew how much she was turning him on. He knew that she was doing this on purpose, he knew that she wanted him to feel like this. In a way, he felt like he was pleasing her by getting turned on. And a large part of him wanted to fail. He wanted her to win. 

He imagined what it would be like to lift up her dress and fuck her right there in the room. She would bend over the table and give him the perfect angle for him to bury his hard cock inside her. He imagined how it would feel to grab her hips and pull her even closer, ensuring he went deep inside her. She would back into him, her ass pressing into his hips. Her back would arch up as she braced herself over the table. Her hair would spread across her back as well as fall to the side. He wanted to fuck her hard enough for both of then to rock back and forth against the table. He wanted to hear her moan and-

"Odysseus?"

He snapped back into focus. "Yes?"

"What are you thinking about?"

"Nothing," he lied.

She smirked and looked down at his hard cock. It looked as though it would burst out of his clothes. "Oh really? Nothing?"

Odysseus felt his control slipping away. In a few seconds, he would embrace her, making his fantasy into a reality. He shot up into the air, the chair getting knocked over with the speed.

"What are you doing!?" Circe asked, surprised by this outburst.

"I have to go!" He explained. "I'll see you later, okay?"

He ran out of the room. More than a hurry. Ran. He had to hold his cock with his hand to prevent it from swinging around uncomfortably. He avoided everyone else in the palace, not wanting to get stuck in a conversation. He retreated to his room, closing the door behind him. He slumped onto the bed, staring wistfully at the ceiling. Circe. He couldn't get her out of his mind. Circe. He closed his eyes. Circe...

How was he going to last for an entire year? It had only been a couple of weeks, and he felt like he was about to break. He had to release some of this energy somehow.

The door was closed. Nobody would be coming in. He reached down into his pants and grabbed his cock. It was still hard. He began to stroke himself, feeling burning pleasure in his hand. His cock twitched, feeling contained by his clothes. He pulled them down to release it, allowing him to stroke more freely.

"Ooohhh," he moaned. He closed his eyes and let his imagination wander. He should have known better. Circe made her way into the front of his mind. The image of her was so vivid. She was wearing her dress with the window in it. As he stroked, he imagined her laying on the bed below him, still wearing that dress. He wanted to stick his cock into the window, sliding it between her breasts. He wanted to rub his cock in the gap while she pressed her breasts together. His strokes matched the intensity of this fantasy. She would look down at the tip as it got closer to her face. She wanted him to cum. She wanted him to explode, wanted him to cover her breasts. She wanted him to cum now. 

"Mmmmm-oooohhh," he moaned as he came. Burning pleasure surged, and his whole body shook. It was a complete release. It was his lust, he came all over himself. This felt amazing. 

"Oh, Circe..." he moaned without thinking. 

Clarity hit him. He had just masturbated to Circe. He opened his eyes. Cum was everywhere. Coming down from the sexual trance, this cum was quickly overstaying its welcome. He found some rags to clean up, and changed into a new outfit. He gave a deep exhale.

"Okay... Now it's all out of my system. I can go back to normal."

He exited the room after cleaning himself thoroughly. All evidence of his masturbation was behind him. He went back out into the palace to socialize. Despite all of the trouble she had gotten him into, Odysseus wanted to see Circe. He reminded himself that it was no longer a problem, as he had taken care of himself.

"Hey! I'm happy to see you," said Circe. "What happened to you back there?"

"Don't worry about it. I just had to take care of something," Odysseus replied.

"Take care of something? Or take care of nothing?"

He smiled. "Nothing."

That night, they went to bed at the same time again. 

"Goodnight, Circe."

"Goodnight, Odysseus."

They retired to their beds. Circe stripped out of her dress. Normally, she would have changed into a sleeping outfit, but she had better ideas. She climbed into bed naked. She laid in silence, hearing Odysseus get settled in bed too. She thought back to the events of the day, and how fun it had been to watch him squirm. She didn't know the details of what he was imagining, but she had some ideas. She felt a stirring in her core. A chill went across her body, her skin tingling. Her nipples perked up. Circe reached a finger down to her clit, and began to rub. It felt good. Better than good. And it kept getting better. 

She decided to get a little more active. She sat up, and grabbed an extra pillow. She straddled it, her vulva rubbing against it. She began to hump the pillow, feeling the pleasant sensation of her vulva and clit rubbing against it. 

"Ohhhh," she moaned. She continued to rock. "Oooo-"

"-Circe?" Interrupted Odysseus. He was just on the other side of the wall.

"Yes?" She released a little moan after answering.

"What are you doing?"

"Nothing," she lied.

"Nothing?"

"You don't believe me? How about you come and take a look for yourself?"

"I'm afraid that if I come over, I won't be able to leave."

"Then don't leave."

Circe paused and awaited his response. Her vulva tingled. The sensation started on the surface and grew deeper into her. There was a pit in the base of her core. A want. A longing to be filled.

"Goodnight, Circe," Odysseus replied.

She let out a disappointed sigh. Loud enough so that he could hear. She would have to take care of herself. She resumed masturbating. She closed her eyes and continued to rock on the pillow. Her hands gripped the headboard in front of her. Fantasies blossomed in her mind. Odysseus would be laying under her where this pillow was. She imagined the pillow as his face. She grinded, picturing his nose on her clit and his tongue greedily licking her vulva. She was getting wet, wanting him to drink it all up. She remembered how hard he was earlier that day, imagining what it would be like for him to stroke his cock as she rode him. He would be so excited to be with her. She wanted his moans muffled by her legs. As he stroked, he would hook his other hand around her upper thigh, pulling her closer to him.

"Mmmmm," Circe moaned, the sound adding to the rocking sound the bed was making. 

"Oh, oh, oh, oh," she moaned in time with every thud on the wall. 

She was getting close. She imagined his hand exploring her further. He would spread out his fingers to feel as much of her as he could. Circe clutched one of her breasts. One hand gripped the headboard, and the other played with her nipple. Every touch was adding up to this moment. She was going to cum.

"Odysseusssss, yes, yes yes!" She screamed as she came.

The familiar rush of orgasm burst through her. Her muscles flexed and relaxed. Her hands tightened, her breast cupped perfectly. Her humping continued, but naturally tapered off like a receding tide. She rode this to the end, panting out of pure pleasure. When it was finished, she fell backward onto the bed in exhausted bliss.

She closed her eyes and smiled, ready to fall asleep. 

"Goodnight, Odysseus."

She listened at the wall. She bit her lip in suspense.

"Goodnight Circe," he repeated.

Chapter Text

The next morning, Circe and Odysseus did not see each other. After all, life still went on, and duties had to be attended to. Odysseus was the captain of his ship and crew, and Circe was the queen of her island and nymphs. It was their responsibility to make sure everything was in working order. Odysseus spent the morning with Astyanax. Luckily, things had been going very well.

Circe found herself in a conversation with her nymphs. 

"So... when can we expect our new visitors to depart?" Melia asked in a singsong voice.

Circe looked at her with confusion. "What are you talking about? Hera's challenge was for them to stay with us for a year."

"But if he fails the challenge, then they can leave," added Ione.

"But he hasn't failed the challenge," explained Circe.

"Oh really? Then explain why Ianthe heard you moaning his name last night," giggled Melia. She was clearly rooting for them.

"It's not like you were subtle, Circe," said Ianthe with a shrug. 

Circe blushed. But it was not a sense of embarrassment she was feeling. It was the sense that her nymphs had seen her so clearly.

"You know, I was talking with some of the crew, and with Prince Astyanax..." said Harmonia. "I heard that Odysseus is favored by Aphrodite! Maybe that explains your little crush on him!"

All of the nymphs giggled in excitement, Circe blushed harder.

"I do not have a crush on him!" She laughed. "I'm just seducing him so he leaves."

"Good luck, Circe!"

The sun crept across the sky. Within several hours, it began to disappear into the ocean. The sky was filled with vibrant reds, oranges, and pinks. Circe found Odysseus.

"Hey, do you want to go on a walk with me?" She asked.

"I'd love to!"

They left the palace together and walked on the beach. The calm seas, the gorgeous sunset, the temperate breeze, it was a perfect evening. Circe was wearing a new dress, this one the most flowy of them all. It was pearl white, and seemed to fall over her like pouring milk. Odysseus was wearing his usual cloak, his trusted garment that had served him through sea and storm. It was freshly cleaned, along with Odysseus himself. 

"So, Circe. What does a normal year look like for you?" He asked.

"You mean when I'm not trying to seduce visitors off of my island?"

"Ha! So you admit it!" He play-accused her.

"Was it not obvious?" She laughed. He laughed with her.

They took more steps through the sand together while she thought.

"You were a king, right?"

"I am a king," he corrected. "But yes. Why do you ask?"

"Well, I suppose my life is similar to yours. That of any proper ruler. I do what's best for my nymphs."

He smiled warmly. This was another side of her. There was something honest here, something direct. As much fun he had bluffing, lying, and playing with her, it was refreshing to hear her speak so openly. From the heart.

"Not all rulers are like you. Most are wicked."

"Oh?"

"Agamemnon, Achaean King. He forced me into that damnable war. Away from my kingdom. Away from my family."

She frowned. This was a reminder of his life away from this place, a life of pain and loss. 

"Well, surely you can name some good rulers."

"You mean, besides myself?" He chuckled with self satisfaction. Now it was his turn to think. They stepped forward in time with each other.

"King Priam of Troy. And his son, Prince Hector," he said, his voice heavy with guilt and mourning.

Circe frowned. She knew the names, the information sieved through her nymphs. She wanted to reach out to him, to hold him. But she had to abide by Hera's rules. She wished that he would just crumble, for once, and that he could listen to her heartbeat while she embraced him.

"Sit with me," she said. "It'd be a shame to waste this sunset."

"I'd love to."

They sat down, close enough to be near, but distant enough not to touch. Circe placed her left hand at her side. She looked down at it, and over to him. All he had to do was grab it. Just place his hand over hers. He didn't. He stared forward into the horizon. Calm waves broke on the shore and retreated back. Peace.

"Well. I suppose we should be heading back. We're far from the palace." Circe said.

They began their return, following the same path as they came. They walked in silence, simply enjoying each other's company. Circe looked over to him, but quickly averted her gaze before he noticed. Odysseus did the same several steps later. When they were about halfway back, they ran into a group of nymphs.

"Hello Circe! Hello Odysseus!"

"Hello everyone... it's good to see you. But what are you all doing this far from the palace? And what are you doing with that bucket of water?"

Harmonia and Melia looked at each other with mischief. "You'll understand soon enough."

"Ah!" Circe exclaimed, as the nymphs heaved the bucket of water in her direction. She was soaked. The nymphs ran away laughing. Odysseus and Circe were left alone. Only she was splashed. Circe stood there, the white dress now translucent and stuck to her skin. The entire gown gripped tightly to her body as the excess water dripped to the ground. The dress resembled a chrysalis. 

Odysseus was stunned. She looked incredible, matching his wildest fantasies. Her breasts were perky and large, with the wet white dress showing off her nipples. He couldn't stop staring. His mind reeled with possibilities. Should he grab them with his hands, embracing her from behind and sliding his arms under hers? Should he bury his face in them? Or should he simply stare, and appreciate the gorgeous view? For now, the third option seemed the best.

"Hey!" Interjected Circe. "Aren't you going to complain that I am presenting myself naked to you?"

Odysseus grinned. "Circe. You are clearly wearing a dress," he said, gesturing to translucent cloth stuck to her breasts.

She laughed, pleased to hear him remember the remark she made earlier.

Odysseus began to remove his cloak. Her heart jumped. "Here, you can put this on," he said, tossing his cloak to her. 

The cloak draped around Circe's shoulder. This was one of his trusted cloaks. It was freshly cleaned, but still bore the scents embedded inside. In isolation, most of these odors would be unpleasant. The grit of a war encampment. Blood from dead soldiers. The stench of the sea as it dries in the hot sun. Various odors courtesy of Astyanax. Sweat piled atop sweat from long days of work with no time to change. And yet, somehow these scents all combined into something intoxicating. Something more. The cloak smelled like Odysseus. It smelled like him. 

"Thank you."

He now stood with his arms and shoulders exposed. He looked almost naked without his cloak. Circe bit her lip with interest. His stature was rather small compared to other sailors she had seen, and his upper body carried a sense of power behind it. Years of struggle and victory had grown his arms into something dense, like the tight rings of a tree trunk after a hard season. He stood with poise, not one of grace but one of cunning, as if his body was ready to move in time with his sharp mind at a moment's notice. If he wanted to, he could sweep her off her feet now, knowing exactly where to apply pressure and where to support her. This was a man unlike any she had seen.

"Turn around," Circe said.

"Why?"

"Just do it."

Odysseus turned around. He heard the shuffling of Circe undressing and redressing behind him.

"Okay. I'm finished."

Circe now stood with the cloak draped over her torso and her white dress wrapped around her hips like a towel. While these two garments covered most of her body, most of her legs were bare, as well as her toned midsection.

"So, how do I look?"

"Well, I can't say I prefer this to what you had on earlier, but... you look great!"

She smiled. "Well, maybe you're just complimenting your own cloak."

"What can I say? I have good taste."

They walked together further.

"Is it true that you're favored by Aphrodite?" Circe asked.

"Where did you hear that from?"

"I have my sources."

"Well, if you're curious, technically Astyanax is favored by Aphrodite. I'm just his caretaker."

"Is that true?"

"It's a long story."

"We have time," she said. "Tell me!"

For the rest of the walk back to the palace, Odysseus recounted his tale of meeting Aphrodite for the first time. He told her of the vision of Zeus, the encounter with Astyanax, the illusion of Aphrodite, and the ultimatum she gave. By the time he was finished, they had made it back to their bedrooms. They lingered outside the doors.

"I hope you know that I intend to keep this cloak," she said with a grin.

"Hey! That's one of my favorites."

"I'll make you a new one. But until then, I'll get you a placeholder. Be right back."

She entered her room for just a moment and returned with a dress. She tossed it to him. It was the same dress that she had been wearing when they first met. He could still remember the look of her leg as it extended out the slit on the side.

"Thank you, Circe," he said, a sparkle in his eye.

They went into their separate rooms, quickly completing their nighttime routines for hygiene. Afterward, they climbed into their separate beds, sitting against the headboard close to the shared wall. Odysseus broke the silence.

"Circe?"

"...yes?"

"Are you going to sleep?"

"It depends. Are you?"

"No."

"Then no."

They could not see each other, but they smiled all the same.

"Soooo... what am I supposed to do with this dress?"

"You're a smart man. You figure it out."

"Well, what are you doing with my cloak?"

"Wearing it."

"Right now? To bed?"

"Just the cloak. Nothing else."

He imagined what she must look like, the large cloak covering her upper body contrasted by a completely naked lower body. A spark of arousal landed in him, ready to blaze into something greater soon.

"I wish I had more to tell you about my outfit. I'm not wearing anything."

Circe's core churned with excitement.

"Tell me what you would do if you came over here."

"Well, for starters, the cloak would stay on."

"Of course."

"You would be playing with your clit. One finger, nice and slow, just to get started."

Circe started touching herself, following his description. "Mmm. I can see that. Tell me more."

"We would be facing each other. I would watch you play with yourself while you watched me stroke my cock." Odysseus started to stroke himself slowly.

"Yeah? How long would we last like this?"

"Long enough for me to look at you. Completely. You would need to give me time."

"Oh, I couldn't wait."

"I would get so hard just looking at you. I wouldn't know where to start first."

"I'd turn around for you. Not bending over yet, just standing with my back turned so you could see my ass. I'm still wearing your cloak, remember? I'd look over my shoulder while I touch myself. I want to see your face while you stroke yourself for me."

"Yeah?" He moaned.

"When I think you're ready, I'll bend over the bed, keeping my feet on the floor and my ass in the air."

"Circe, I can't stop thinking about you spreading for me."

"Tell me," she moaned.

"I'd have to stop stroking so that both of my hands would be free. I would grab your hips with my hands, and dive in between your legs with my face. I want to bury my face in your ass."

"Yeah?" Circe whimpered. She started touching herself faster now.

"I'd lick you as much as I possibly could. I'd grip you so tightly that my hands would dig into your hips and pull you closer to me. I need to taste you."

Circe started rubbing her vulva with her other hand, getting ready to finger her vagina. "Do you want me to taste myself, Odysseus?"

"Taste yourself, Circe."

She stuck a couple of fingers inside her, moaning as they went in and making them wet. She pulled them to her mouth where she sucked on them. "Oh, yes, yes! Keep going."

"I'm so hard for you, Circe."

"Yeah? Yeah?"

"When I was finished with my mouth, I'd push you onto the bed."

"Oh! Come over and fuck me," she moaned.

He started stroking faster now. They were separated by the wall, but masturbated at the same speed.

"I'd flip you over onto your back. I want to kiss you. I want to stick my tongue in your mouth."

"Yes, yes, yes. I want to taste myself on your tongue. I want you to kiss me hard."

"I'd grip your hair as I pressed my lips against yours."

"Shove your tongue in my mouth."

"My other hand would clasp yours and pull it up above your head, pinning our hands to the bed."

"Mmmmm, mmm, yeah. I'd be playing with my clit with my other hand."

"When I wasn't kissing you, I would bury my face in your hair and neck to smell you. Oh Circe.. "

"Odysseus, my dress! Put my dress in your face."

He followed her advice. Circe did the same with the cloak. Circe drank up the aroma of the cloak, her nostrils flaring. If she closed her eyes, she could pretend he was right next to her. Odysseus planted the dress completely over his face, trying to breathe air only through the dress. All he wanted was to smell Circe.

"Are you ready for my cock?"

"Odysseus please... I need your cock inside me," she whimpered. One hand was playing with her clit, the other one was fingering.

"I've been wanting to fuck you for so long."

"I know," she moaned. "I know."

"Can you imagine what it would feel like? How I would fill you?"

"Yeah," she moaned. She added more fingers, shoving two at a time now.

Her moans sent him to the next level. She brought him to the climax. "Circe, I'm going to cum!"

"Scream for me Odysseus! I want to cum to you moaning for me."

"Circe... Circe... Circe!" He screamed. "I'm going to cum!"

They came together, despite the wall separating them. They slumped into the wall, desperate to touch each other, to embrace each other. All they could do is plant their arm outstretched on the wall, placing their hands on the surface. They listened to each other pant and gasp for air in the post orgasm recovery. Pleasure tingled through them. It was hard to think. They simply lingered in the pleasure with each other.

Eventually, the intense sensation of the orgasm mellowed down to a feeling of bliss. Clarity returned to them.

"Goodnight, Circe."

"Goodnight, Odysseus."

Circe began to snore. Odysseus smiled as he listened to her. In a few short minutes, he was asleep as well.

Chapter Text

Several months passed on Circe's island. Odysseus and the crew lived in harmony with Circe and her nymphs. They had faced so much already: the war, the hunger, the cyclops, the storms, the Laestrygonians, and the wrath of Poseidon. The horrors they had suffered faded into memory. They appreciated the sanctuary offered by the island and incorporated themselves into the community there. 

Odysseus and Circe's friendship grew over the months. Every night, they spent at least a couple minutes chatting with one another through their shared wall. Sometimes it was more than a couple minutes, and sometimes it was more than chatting. They would argue and bicker on occasion, but those were reconciled swiftly. They seemed to find the perfect balance between interacting with each other as well as attending to their crew. 

Odysseus ensured that the crew stayed at the height of their skills. Once a week, they sailed around the perimeter of the island.

Astyanax was particularly thriving on the island. Between his old friends in the crew and his new friends in the nymphs, there was essentially a village to help raise him. The nymphs were delighted by the small boy, a stark contrast to the fully grown men that normally landed here. They would play with him, sing to him, and teach him their ways. Astyanax was delighted in return, surrounded by these caretakers and learning what it meant to be raised by both human and nymph.

Astyanax worked as a social bridge between the crew and the nymphs. To him, there was no reason to be shy of them, so he interacted with them freely. While the crew was initially a bit skittish around the nymphs, having Astyanax around was a great way to fill awkward silences. Both of them wanted the best for the boy, allowing them to learn to cooperate. As Odysseus and Circe were up to their antics, the crew and the nymphs became fast friends who enjoyed their own time together.

The day was coming to a close, the chores done and the crew enjoying some time to relax. Astyanax often practiced his walking, trying to get used to walking on land instead of sea. Whenever he walked, his upper body swayed as if accounting for the waves. This delighted his friends in the crew, the nymphs, Odysseus, even Circe.

"Go, little piglet, go," she cheered one day.

Odysseus playfully glared at her. "Are you going to call him that every time? He has a name, you know."

"Oh, I'm not allowed to give him a nickname?" She teased. "What about you, with your 'little prince'?"

He smiled. "Hey! 'Little Prince' and 'Little Piglet' are different, thank you very much."

"I don't know, I've noticed all of the princes that land here quickly turn into piglets."

"All of them?" He teased.

She snorted. "Okay. Most of them. Up until you arrived, that is."

Astyanax smiled as he walked around. He could not pay attention to the exact words being spoken, but he understood that there was a sense of playfulness and good feelings between them. He laughed along with them.

"Good job, little prince!" Odysseus cheered.

"Good job, little piglet!" Circe cheered, giving Odysseus a playful side-eye.

As he finished walking, he happily flopped into some soft grass. 

"Alright, Astyanax. Let's get you ready for bed."

Odysseus scooped him up. "Do you want to join us, Circe?"

She shook her head. "I'll stay here, thanks. I'll be around if you come back down here."

Odysseus carried Astyanax to his room. He was used to being carried, and was tired from all of his activities, so it went very smoothly. Odysseus couldn't help but notice how much heavier Astyanax was. He remembered what it was like to carry the fragile infant from Troy, taking a moment to realize how much he had grown in the past couple months. His heart swelled with pride. There was hope here. Not only was he incurring favor with Hera by living here, he was incurring favor with Aphrodite by taking care of the prince. His mind drifted to Athena. She had not contacted him since their argument about the cyclops. Part of him wanted to make an offering and a prayer to her, but he thought better of it. He remembered the ripping pain she left behind in his mind, and was not in the mood to be lectured by her.

Odysseus set Astyanax to bed, who had already fallen asleep in his arms. He left Astyanax alone, eager to see Circe again.

"Hey! You're back," Circe said as he approached. He responded with a smile.

"What do you have planned for tonight?"

She smiled back. "I'm the queen, Odysseus. I can do whatever I want."

"Oh great queen Circe, would like to accompany me, the King of Ithaca, on a walk?" His tone was intentionally exaggerated, poking just a bit of fun.

She dramatically sighed to play into the bit. "Well, I suppose I can entertain your request."

They both laughed. Soon they were out.

Just like their last walk, they walked on the beach listening to the waves. The silence was comfortable. It was enough to enjoy each other's presence. The pace was relaxed. After a long walk, they found a secluded glade just off the beach. 

"Care to join me?" Odysseus asked, gesturing toward the romantic glade. He had noticed something change about Circe over the past couple of weeks, something that he wanted to investigate.

"Of course," she replied, walking past him into the glade. 

The light of dusk filtered through the canopy, a pink sunset spilled across the sky. It was just the two of them. Together.

They sat down near each other, still observing a respectable distance.

"So, we've been here almost six months now. Halfway done," said Odysseus.

She raised a singular eyebrow. "Is there a point you're trying to make?"

"I've been thinking. Thinking about how our relationship has grown over the past couple months..."

Circe was partly surprised, partly annoyed. She had a feeling of where this was going. Without thinking, her lower jaw extended beyond her upper one in a grimace.

"-where are you going with this?"

"I'll show you," said Odysseus, and slowly leaned in to kiss her.

Circe leaned back, avoiding his kiss. She leaned back so quickly and so far away that she tumbled over to dodge him. Her hair was disheveled, and she blew it out of her face as propped herself up. She glared at him.

"What are you doing!?"

Odysseus sat there beaming. A grand smile was on his face, an unexpected expression for a man whose kiss had just been rejected.

"What are you smiling about? I just rejected you," said Circe.

He kept smiling, very pleased with himself.

"Yeah, exactly what I was expecting."

Her glare was a combination of frustration and genuine confusion. "What? So you tried to kiss me knowing I would reject you? What's wrong with you? Don't you remember Hera's challenge? We can't be together."

"This was a test."

"A test, huh? A test you just failed. Imagine what would have happened if I hadn't been looking out for you."

His smile grew to its peak. "Say that last part again."

Circe began to blush. It was all coming together. "I was looking out for you... I. I..."

"Exactly."

Her ears began to burn. She didn't know whether to join him in a smile or glare and frown. He had seen through her so clearly. 

"I... what do you want me to say!?"

"Admit it. A couple months ago, we would have kissed and I'd be gone. You want me to succeed Hera's challenge. You want what's best for me," he paused, giving the conclusion time to land. "You care about me."

Circe's face crinkled. He was right. He discovered a secret that she had even been hiding from herself.

"Fine."

"Fine?"

The tiniest corner of her mouth started to crack. "I guess... I guess I don't mind having you around."

"And I don't mind staying around."

They looked each other in the eyes, realizing their relationship had officially transformed. Friends. In a strange way, they were closer as friends than they were flirting.

"So. What happens now?" She asked.

"You're the queen, Circe. You can do whatever you want."

She laughed. "Escort me back to the palace then, King of Ithaca."

"It would be my pleasure."

Together they walked back to the palace, the time together spent with friendly chatting. Their first conversation as official friends; they were free. They found themselves at the doors to their bedrooms.

"Well, I suppose this is goodnight. See you tomorrow?" Said Circe.

"I'll be here," he replied. "For another six months at least!" He chuckled.

After their nighttime routines, they climbed into bed around the same time. Here they were again, poised at the wall, listening for when the other would speak.

"Odysseus?"

"Yes, Circe?"

"Now that I'm not trying to seduce you... do you want to move rooms? I put you here on purpose to tempt you."

"I'd prefer to stay here. I've grown fond of these chats we have."

She smiled. She had too.

"And what about our more... intimate... chats?"

She heard him chuckle from the other side of the wall.

"I don't see why those would have to end either."

"So you're telling me you have those kinds of conversations with your friends?"

He paused. "Well... not all of my friends. You're a special case, Circe."

She smiled to herself. "You're a special case too, Odysseus."

The two of them spent the next hour chatting through the wall. They could speak to each other so well. The time seemed to slip by, neither one of them keeping track.

"I just remembered something. Something about your journey home."

"Yeah?"

"I'm the daughter of the Titan Helios. Did I ever tell you that?"

His eyes widened on the other side of the wall. "No, you did not. How do I react to this? Um. Congratulations? We mortals have a lot of respect for Helios."

"That's good, that will make this advice easy. If you run into his island on your journey home, just go ahead and leave immediately, yeah? He's very particular about his cattle."

"Right. Thanks for the advice."

They continued to chat about lighthearted topics, finally drifting to sleep together.

With each passing day, Astyanax was breaking his old records. Size, knowledge, speed, the time on the island had done him well. Before long, months had gone by. They were approaching the end of the challenge. Time was measured in milestones that Astyanax was reaching.

"Ody," babbled Astyanax, pointing at Odysseus. 

Odysseus was stunned. "Astyanax?"

"Ody!" He said with a smile and laugh.

Odysseus laughed with him. His first word! 

"Sisi," Astyanax pointed, assigning Circe a bastardized name.

"Circe." She corrected. She managed to hide her excitement. "But close. You'll get it someday."

Nymphs and crew cheered and congratulated the young prince. Each of them took the time to speak with him, subtly baiting out their own name in an attempt to get Astyanax to say it. All of the attention was well received at first, but crossed into overstimulation. Astyanax began to cry.

"Okay, everyone. I think the prince has had enough for today. I'm sure he'll get all of our names down when he has more time," said Odysseus. He scooped up Astyanax and carried him away.

"Bye, Astyanax," sang Harmonia as she waved goodbye.

Astyanax calmed down after Odysseus took him to his room. A sense of guilt and dread crept up to him. After Astyanax was away, Odysseus crumpled to the ground.

With every milestone that Astyanax reached, Odysseus was reminded of every moment he missed with Telemachus. His first steps, his first words. Telemachus would not recognize him when he got home. Odysseus did the math in his head, imagining his son approaching his teenage years. What sort of man would he grow up to be? Every year at Troy was a year missed.

"We have to get home, little prince. You have to meet the rest of the family."

Astyanax had already fallen asleep. Odysseus smiled. "You're going to love it there."

"Hey," Circe softly said, appearing in the doorway. "Big day for your little piglet, huh?"

Odysseus smiled. "The first of many. I could not have done this without you."

Circe rolled her eyes. "Thank the nymphs, Odysseus. They're the ones that have been doting on him this whole time."

"Them too, of course.”

She paused before changing the subject. "You want to get out of here?"

"You have somewhere in mind?"

The two of them departed. They encountered friends that offered their congratulations to the new prince, but soon enough they were alone on the beach.

The palace disappeared as they went further away. They had walked together so many times, every part of the island felt like home. Gentle waves crashed upon the sand.

"I've been thinking about you, Odysseus."

He smiled. "How so?"

She sighed. "I've been thinking about your journey home. Poseidon holds a grudge. What chance do you have?"

Odysseus grimaced, remembering the unrelenting destruction. "I've been thinking about this too. Surely there is some path that avoids him."

"Poseidon rules the seas, but not all waters."

"Right, but we are completely surrounded by the sea. It's unavoidable."

"You know of Charon, the Underworld Ferryman?"

Odysessus's eyes widened. "What are you implying? A journey to the Underworld!?"

"Not exactly. Not the Underworld, itself. A space between. Witches are drawn to thresholds, concepts where magic seems to blend in with reality. I can use my magic to open the waters between the land of the Living and the land of the Dead. Neither Poesidon nor Hades can claim you there, those waters are Charon's domain."

Odysseus stared in shock. She was bold. But she was right. Circe continued. "You sailing through these waters is actually a side-effect of the ritual. It's called a Nekyia. We use it to summon the spirits of the dead."

"Have you done it before?"

"Yes. But not for this purpose."

Odysseus exhaled. He had few options; he needed her help. "Let's do it."

She smiled. "Honestly, where would you be without me?"

"I can't imagine."

The climate of this island hid virtually all evidence of seasons changing. The sea held temperature and kept the island pleasant and warm all year round. They hardly noticed that a year had passed on the island. In the final month, Circe helped them prepare the ship, stocking it full of supplies for their return journey.

The sound of a massive bell tolled once, the volume so loud that it was deafening. Odysseus and Circe closed their eyes and covered their ears. Their ears were ringing. After a couple of seconds, they opened their eyes, revealing the grand goddess Hera before them.

"You. Swine."

Odysseus dropped into a bow immediately. Her expression was stern and tight.

"Queen Hera!"

"Spare me. I suppose it's fitting you ended up here, a pig like yourself must feel right at home with Circe."

Odysseus dare not reply.

"You pushed the boundaries of your marriage. I wonder, what would Penelope think of everything you did in the past year?"

Odysseus braced himself, the words of the divine queen landing on him like massive weights.

"With that being said... congratulations!"

Circe and Odysseus looked up in surprise. Hera's demeanor had changed in a single moment.

"Not everyone can be as perfect as me, of course. With all things considered, the two of you behaved remarkably well. Enough to succeed in my challenge! Between us, my husband was convinced that you would fail on the first night."

"So, what does this mean for me and my journey home?"

Hera revealed a quill made from a peacock feather. Without a word, she grabbed his arm and began to dig into his skin. The sharp stem pierced through and he screamed in pain. She was merciless. Hera drew her crest as magical ink infiltrated his skin; she carved a tattoo onto his arm.

Odysseus trembled in pain. "Wh- wha- what did you do to me?"

"Imagine you come home after a decade of war with a new son. What would Penelope think? I have marked you with my crest as proof that I have blessed your marriage. This will convince her that the young prince is not your bastard."

He gripped his arm above the tattoo in pain. It was tender, sore, and bleeding. The ink was an elegant combination of green, blue, and teal.

"Thank- thank you." Odysseus chattered.

"It was earned," Hera replied, reveling in the fact that her blessing was both beneficial and painful. Hera paused a moment before continuing, not because she needed time to think, instead as though she were making an announcement. Her speech was that of a queen, with the assumption that every word she spoke was a declaration, one that would be held onto by her subjects.

"I suppose you were right to spare Astyanax, despite my husband's warnings. After all, this arrangement has caused you to earn my blessing."

"Thank you, Queen Hera."

"Of course, the danger persists. My husband was not pleased that you ignored his warning. Every decision you have made since you left Troy has drawn the approval of few, and the ire of most. Athena included, as you already know."

Odysseus felt his stomach churn with nerves, her words filling him with dread. 

"With that, I shall make my departure."

Odysseus and Circe squeezed their eyes shut as they looked down, and clasped their hands over their ears. The air seemed to break. The powerful presence of Hera departing seemed to leave a vacuum in the air, collapsing on itself. Even in her departure, the force of Hera was immense. She was gone.

Chapter Text

"She's gone?" Circe said, her voice half full of hope and relief, half full of fear and disbelief. In their brief encounters with her, Hera made it clear that she possessed the power to shatter them completely. Even further, she had not been intending to send this message, it was just a simple fact. With Hera gone, the world seemed to go back to normal. 

"I... I think so," replied Odysseus.

They both released a sigh of relief, then shuddered the nerves out. Circe smiled, a new expression, one unbound by arbitrary rules. Odysseus did the same, seeing her in a new light.

"So... no more challenge?" Circe asked.

"No more challenge," he replied with a smile.

Without another thought, Circe rushed to embrace him. She tucked her arms under his as he wrapped his over hers. Their hug felt natural instantly, as though the two of them had been practicing it in their minds. It felt right. His body was firm, yet inviting, like a sturdy bed that offered the proper amount of support. She closed her eyes as she buried herself over his shoulder. Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. He smelled just like his cloak, but stronger and more direct. She smelled the island on him as well, he smelled like her home. Exhale. 

They had been waiting so long for something like this. They had so many intimate moments, but they had not touched yet. Neither one of them let go, wanting to hold onto this moment as long as possible.

"You feel exactly as I thought you would," she softly murmured into him, as though her words would seep directly into his skin.

Inhale. Exhale.

"You feel even better," he replied.

She snorted. "You must have a weak imagination, then."

He chuckled; both of them still holding onto each other. "What can I say? You continue to surprise me, Circe."

She snuggled closer into him, a show of her approval.

Inhale. Exhale.

"I'm not going to ask you to stay," she said.

He did not reply, only kept breathing her in and holding her, waiting for her to continue.

"I know you have to go home. You have a wife waiting for you. Penelope."

Inhale. Exhale.

"Remember when you said I reminded you of her?"

"Yes, the day we first met."

"Were you telling the truth? Or were you just trying to mess with me, like I was trying to mess with you?"

"You think I would lie?"

She snorted again, her laughter warming the skin of his neck that she was latched to. "Of course not. When has Odysseus ever lied?" She mocked, her voice full of sarcasm.

He smiled. "I was telling the truth."

Inhale. Exhale. They continued to hold each other.

"Tell me about her."

"She's remarkable. Beautiful, witty, charismatic, funny, smart, and observant. Dedicated. Every day, she would prove that she is utterly fit to be a queen. And I, her king."

"She sounds amazing."

Inhale. Exhale.

"This doesn't bother you?"

"I'm just imagining all of the things you said that could apply to me. 'Utterly fit to be a queen', I like the sound of that one."

"See? There's a reason why you remind me of her."

"I'm sure our differences would become immediately apparent if we ever met."

He chuckled. "Oh, I have no doubt about that."

"Especially considering that I turn every visitor into a pig. Even Penelope. I'm sure she would be the most lovely of all of the pigs, though."

He laughed. "I remember how you tried to turn me into a pig."

She snorted again. "Well, you tried to kill me. Let's call it even."

"Fair enough."

Inhale. Exhale.

Circe sighed. "We should probably let go of each other at some point, right?"

"I'm not in a rush. It's been a whole year. What's one extra day?"

"Your ship's already packed, but we need to get the prince and crew onboarded. And I need to prepare the Nekyia rite."

"That all has to happen today? Why not tomorrow?"

She opened her eyes and met his. With this hug, his eyes were unavoidable.

"I... I don't think I could handle you spending the night. I'm fine now, but hearing you from the other side of the wall tonight would be impossible to resist."

He pressed his forehead to hers. "Would that be so wrong?"

She frowned. "Yes. It would be, Odysseus. I don't think I could let you go if we spent the night together. And I wouldn't trust you to be able to leave."

He sighed. "You're right. It has to be today."

She squeezed him tightly, one last grasp before parting. Finally, their hug had ended.

"I'll meet you at the ship in a couple hours. No doubt you need to gather your crew, and I need to gather my things."

"Agreed."

"I almost forgot! I have a new cloak for you. I'm keeping your old one, remember?"

The ship was packed. The crew stood on the deck, eager to depart. Their muscles almost bounced with excitement, ready to react after a much appreciated rest. They waved goodbye to their new friends in the nymphs, who answered them from the land below. Even after a year, it felt as though there was not enough time to say goodbye. Each nymph picked up Astyanax and gave him a great hug, the prince replying with a happy babbled version of their names. 

"We're going to miss you most of all, Astyanax!"

"Remember your nymphs, yeah?"

"Take care of those men for us, won't you, prince?"

"Good luck on your journey home!"

The nymphs turned away after giving their goodbyes, hiding away their emotion and consoling each other. 

Circe and Odysseus remained.

"So. This is it. Are you ready?"

"Absolutely."

She exhaled. "Me too. Once you board the ship, I will begin the ritual. Wait for it to complete, then you can leave."

"Understood."

"Remember, this is a Nekyia. Not a Katabasis, where you would truly step foot in the Underworld. The rites of gods and witches are not to be pushed. One wrong move and Hades will keep you."

"Wrong move?"

"Just stay in the ship. And if anyone asks who sent you, don't bring me up. I'm not breaking any rules, I just don't want any more visitors."

"I've seen how you treat visitors."

"You get me," she snorted.

She kissed his cheek a final time before he left, offering him her last goodbye. Circe performed her magic.

The skies and water began to darken. It was as if night had fallen, but there were no stars in the sky. No guiding moonlight. Odysseus looked up. Darkness, as though they were underground. Impossible, as Circe's island was still visible. A shadow fell over it, creeping closer and closer to them from all directions. He listened to Circe and the nymphs chanting their magical words. The sea became unnaturally still. 

The shadow consumed them. For a few moments, everything was gone. No light, no sound, no smell of the sea. No one dared speak. Odysseus could hear his own heartbeat in the stark silence. 

The darkness began to peel back into a gray twilight. Circe was gone, the island was gone. There was only water in all directions. 

"Forward," Odysseus reluctantly commanded. The crew began to row, their oars the only source of energy in this still water.

No objects could be seen in the distance, only the same strange twilight. The same was true for the sky. Had it not been for the sense of effort rowing forward, they might have been convinced that they were not moving at all.

"Captain?" Asked Eurylochus. "How far are we going?"

"As far as we can. I trust Circe to keep us on the correct path."

"I don't."

Before Odysseus could correct him, they heard wailing.

Everyone that was not rowing rushed over to the side of the ship, determined to investigate the sound. 

Wailing. Not pain, exactly. Anguish. Despair. Lost.

There appeared to be no source of this wailing. Whoever, or whatever, was making this sound was hidden by the darkness. The wailing was formed in a chorus, one of disarray, as if every member could not hear the other. The screams were unnerving. They wailed for their own sake, completely unaware of their visitors.

"Captain!? Captain!? Captain!"

Odysseus turned, expecting Eurylochus or another crewmate. He saw nothing, the voices coming from beyond the deck.

"Captain... Captain..."

He recognized the voices. Diokles... Alexios... countless others. Sailors from his other ships, lost to the seas. They found no rest, their bodies consumed by Laestrygonians.

"Captain? Is that you? It's me!"

Odysseus ran to the back of the ship, ready to find the source of this new voice. He found a shade levitating above the water. Its spectral body was instantly recognizable, a pang of sorrow filled him as he noticed the bottom half of the shade, mutilated beyond recognition.

"Polites!"

The shade smiled. "Captain, it is you!" The smile faded into a frown. "Are you... dead? What a shame. How long has it been?"

Odysseus could hardly contain his sorrow. "I'm sorry, Polites. I'm sorry you never made it home. I don't know how long it's been. Over two years, I'm guessing."

"You're alive!? That's incredible. Tell me what home is like. And why are you here?"

Odysseus frowned. "We haven't made it home yet. We landed on an island of a witch named Circe. She did us the service of bringing us here."

"How is the prince?"

Odysseus suddenly remembered. He quickly found Astyanax and returned with him.

"Here he is, Polites."

"Oh my, look at how you've grown! It's very good to see you, Astyanax."

Astyanax could not place Polites in his mind, but his subconscious knew it was a friendly face. He waved happily at the shade.

"Polites... are you... okay?"

Polites grimaced. "I don't know. I don't have moments like this often. There's a sense of nothingness here. I would imagine that's the same for most shades. A dormancy, a torpor. Something must have woken me up. Maybe your ship approaching. And for that, I thank you."

"It's good to see you, friend."

Polites nodded, his form beginning to fade. "It's good to..."

The ship started leaving him behind. He no longer floated in time with them.

"...see you..."

The outline of Polites began to disappear, sinking into the darkness.

"...too."

Odysseus dropped to the deck, overcome with grief. Unfortunately, there was no time to process. The ship had to continue forward. The wailing persisted. Odysseus stood up, and kept his eyes forward.

"Odysseus?"

Odysseus stayed where he was. Whoever this shade was, he would let it come to him.

"Odysseus?"

His heart sank.

"Odysseus?"

The voice became familiar, standing out among the wailing shades.

"Odysseus?"

"...Mom?"

The shade of his mother, Anticlea, appeared before him. "Odysseus, you're finally home! I waited so long for you."

Odysseus frowned as tears came to his eyes. "I'm home," he lied.

"Oh, how I waited. I stood and watched the sea, the same beach you left from. Every day I imagined your ship appearing on the horizon."

Tears streamed down his face. "I'm sorry."

"It wasn't your fault, son. I know how you tried to avoid leaving. Remember how you tilled your fields, trying to convince them you had gone mad?"

He sniffed. "Yeah, I remember."

"That's how I knew you would be back so soon. You and your tricks. You would find some way to victory and get back home."

Odysseus smiled as his voice broke. "I miss you, Mom."

"I missed you, too."

"I... I gotta go soon, okay?"

She frowned. "Are you sure?"

He nodded.

"I love you."

"I love you."

He reached out to embrace her, stopping himself at the last second. He dared not risk it, no matter the depth of his sorrow. Anticlea faded into the darkness, the distance between them growing with each passing second. She was gone.

They continued forward. No one knew how long this Nekyia would last, only that they needed to make the most of it. 

Chapter Text

Loss. So much loss.

Odysseus felt it. Every heart on the ship felt it. The soldiers under his command, the men who too had been separated from their lives of peace. From their families. As Odysseus was visited by Anticlea, shades visited everyone else. Death gripped them all. 

Astyanax, the young prince, peered as far as he could into the darkness, attempting to see the familiar faces beyond. During the final night of the Trojan War, far too many were killed and denied their funeral rites. The shades here all seemed to have that in common. He was far too young to remember the Trojans who came to offer Prince Hector and Andromache their congratulations and tribute, but his young heart felt the weight of their haunt upon him all the same. It was not enough to cry; he could not cry. He could only stare in confusion, trying and failing to make sense of this. His lost city. His lost home.

There was little hope to row forward, but they did so anyway. The ship lurched through the water at an unsettlingly consistent pace. Nature had abandoned them, or rather, they had abandoned nature. Even the water felt wrong, as if it were composed of dark blood. This was no place for mortals. 

"Damn that witch!" Cried Eurylochus. "She cursed us! We're doomed, we're doomed!"

Odysseus glared. "Eurylochus, steady yourself!"

"She hated us, hated you. You could not be turned, and now she gets her revenge by sending us here to die."

Odysseus kept calm, despite the rage building up in him. "You would curse Circe after everything she did for us!? Is still doing for us?"

"Your love for her blinds you, Odysseus. Face it, without Hermes, you would be a slaughtered pig!"

"Exactly! Why would she send us to the Underworld when she could have made meals of all of us?"

Eurylochus grumbled. He had no further response.

The wailing of the shades was unending. Its pitch and frequency varied as time passed, making it impossible to ignore. How much time had passed? There was no light, no weather patterns, no indicators of how long they had been there. This was no place for mortals.

"Crew, switch off! Rowers to rest. Those standing by, prepare to resume rowing. On my mark..."

Odysseus had no idea how long the first crew had been rowing; he did not want to risk overexhaustion. The workers released a sigh of relief and rest as they stopped, with fresh hands entering their position. In this transition, the ship crept to a stall, its hull gripped by the dark blood water.

An otherworldly chill descended upon them. In a way, it was inviting, a stark contrast to the nothingness they had felt since their journey began. In all other ways, it was dreadful, a kind of chill that reminded them of how insignificant they were. This was no place for mortals.

Another ship! This one glided through the water with ease, as if the ship was part of it. Despite how smooth this ship was travelling, it moved at a glacial pace. Slow, yet inevitable. As the ship approached, the figure propelling it forward became clear. They all dropped to their knees immediately. Charon!

Charon did not regard them. He treated them as they did not exist, simply moving as a force of nature. However, he did bring the ship to a stop. The ship of the Living and the ship of the Dead now floated together, locked in parallel. If any man wanted to die instantly, now was their chance; a mere touch of Charon's vessel would bring them directly to Hades.

A shade stepped forward, walking instead of levitating. Their steps echoed in the dark silence, the crew paralyzed with fright. There seemed to be a particular weight to these footsteps, as if the shade was made of flesh like they were. They were whole. Most shades seemed to hold onto their core identities and shed off most of their features past death, but this shade was self-actualized, enough that their psyche could construct a complete body.

"Greetings, Odysseus," the shade announced.

Odysseus slowly craned his neck up to see the visitor. A human. Yet the familiar tells of a shade still lingered on the figure, parts of its body ethereal.

"Hail, shade," Odysseus replied.

"I know why you are here, lost king. I know where you have been, and where you are going. And I know why you have summoned me. Whatever you wish to know, I will tell you."

Odysseus stood up to meet the shade in the eye. His mind worked to collect all of this information, still in disbelief that they were even here.

"You know my name, stranger. I would ask that you share yours."

"Tiresias." The shade replied as a simple matter-of-fact, as if they were reading their own name off of a list.

"Hail, Tiresias. We are on our voyage home from the Trojan War. We came to this place to hide from Poseidon's wrath. How can we get home from here?"

Tiresias blinked, drawing attention to their opal eyes. Muted, misty, undead. "Yes, I know all of this. You first visited the Cicones, then the Lotus Eaters, then the Cyclops Polyphemus. It was there that you revealed yourself and spurned Poseidon, who punished you with storms and destroyed your fleet. You found refuge with the witch Circe, who used her magic to bring you here and summon me to you."

Odysseus's eyes widened in disbelief. "Great one, we seek safe passage home. Please, tell us what we need to know."

"Prophecy! The gods and their prophecies. Many lives did I live, the gods using me to satisfy their curiosities. A pawn in their philosophical debates. This is the way of the world. I have advised kings, those that fought the prophecies of the gods, those that adopted them, all of them brought to ruin."

"What!? What are you saying? Is there no hope for us?"

Tiresias raised their arm to point at Astyanax. "Zeus, King of the Gods! He warned you about this one. And yet you spare him, following the whims of another. An older goddess. You speak of hope, of agency, of action. Why? What comfort does that bring you?"

"You speak as though you already know. I will spare you my thoughts on the matter. I just want to go home. Will you help us or not?"

Tiresias spoke past Odysseus. "The Titan Helios, the one that drives the chariot of the sun through the sky. You will land on his island."

Finally, they were getting somewhere. "Yes??"

"The witch Circe, the one that brought you here. She fell in love once, and her heart filled with jealousy. Her magic and hate gave birth to the monster Scylla."

"What does that have to do with me?"

"You will be the witness of more death to come. A bystander. An observer..."

Tiresias paused before continuing. "You will become something new. Beyond an observer: an instrument. You will bring destruction to Ithaca, scores of men killed."

"My own kingdom!? No!"

"A kingdom that will not recognize you when you return, save for one..."

"Who!?"

Tiresias closed their eyes and stopped speaking. They took deep breaths, as if they had just finished reciting a speech. Tiresias spoke again in a more grounded tone.

"You should know, it does not bring me any joy to share this with you, nor does it bring any sorrow. I simply do it. With that in mind... I hope you get what you seek. Good luck, King of Ithaca."

Tiresias stepped away, disappearing into Charon's ship.

Odysseus inhaled, preparing to give his men the order to row away. Something gave him pause. Another shade was approaching...

Like Tiresias, the psyche of this shade was fully formed, enough to maintain the grasp on its form it had in life. Odysseus heard the footsteps first, the silhouette still obscured by the darkness of The Underworld. Yet, there was a familiarity about the approaching shade, something different than Tiresias. It walked forward with conviction, finally eliminating the distance between them.

Odysseus took a deep breath. It was him.

"Odysseus... you're here."

"Prince Hector."

The name felt profane to utter. Standing before him, on the edge of Charon's ship, was the shade of Prince Hector. He wore whatever he believed he should be wearing. A modest garment, one worn in times of peace. The same clothes he wore as he picked up Astyanax every morning to kiss him goodbye, the same clothes he spent embracing Andromache. The fresh outfit earned after a day of battle, a transformation into something clean. This was truly Prince Hector.

"You're alive," said Prince Hector. 

Odysseus frowned. "Yes."

"You killed my people."

Odysseus looked away. "Yes."

"Why are you here?"

Odysseus sighed. "We're trying to get home. Our journey has been long and brutal, with many of my men perishing."

"I am sorry to hear that."

Odysseus snapped his gaze forward to meet his. The noble prince kept his form nearly identical to what he looked like in life, even keeping his bronze eyes.

"You would not like to see us suffer? To feel revenge for your lost city?"

"What good would that do, Odysseus? I have made you suffer enough in life. I slew countless Achaeans, and it did not bring me joy. No, I would not like to see you suffer. It would not bring my people back. It would not allow me to feel my wife again, or to watch my son grow up."

Odysseus felt his heart drop. He felt hollow, his organs ready to collapse in the cavity.

"Prince Hector... promise me you will remain here, for a few moments longer."

"Why have you summoned me here, Odysseus? I doubt I could offer you more wisdom than Tiresias."

"It was not I who summoned you. A friend brought me here. A friend to me... and a friend to your son."

"What!? Explain yourself. Now."

"The witch who brought us here, she summoned Tiresias. I can see now that she summoned you as well. She wanted you here."

Odysseus left and quickly retrieved Astyanax, who had been sitting still, lost in the dark. Odysseus placed him on the railing of the ship, holding tightly so that he would not fall, but as close as possible to Prince Hector.

"..."

Prince Hector could not speak. He broke into tears immediately. His heart was filled with an indescribable joy and sorrow.

"...my son..."

The ever-present love Prince Hector held for his home, his city, his wife, and his family swelled within him. In Astyanax, he was reminded of every moment they shared together. He remembered Andromache telling him about her pregnancy, remembered the tears of joy shared between them. He remembered his father Priam welcoming the new baby, and the visits from Paris and Helen. 

"My boy."

Hector remembered the early mornings where he awoke to simply watch his son sleep. He remembered the late nights of exhaustion and struggle when Astyanax couldn't sleep. He remembered watching Andromache wake up, the most beautiful woman in the world. He remembered the three of them together. Family.

"My...' Hector cried, his voice cracking. "...Astyanax. I love you."

Every measure of joy that Hector was feeling was reflected with an equal addition of sorrow. He had lost it all. All of this love, all of this loss, it grew into him like roots, every part of it part of him. He broke, his knees buckling onto the railing of Charon's ship.

"Dada?" Asked Astyanax. The face and form was one that he was too young to remember, but somehow he knew. 

Hector quickly rose, tears flowing freely. "Astyanax." He smiled, and choked out a laugh. "Look at how much you've grown."

"Dada," Astyanax repeated. "Dada!"

Hector wanted to do nothing more than embrace his son and hold him to his heart. He reached out, his hand stopping before touching him. He resisted every urge to hold his son again, knowing that would doom him immediately.

"I'm proud of you, my boy."

Astyanax smiled.

"You... you're. I. I miss you so much."

Then, Astyanax and Hector lingered together.

Odysseus thought back to the vision of his mother. As he watched Hector and his son reunite, his heart ached to see his mother again. He had so much to say, so much to share with her. But beyond that, he wanted to simply be there. Tears welled up in his eyes.

Hector looked up at Odysseus, who had remained as silent as the shadows they lingered in.

"Odysseus, how is this possible? What happened after I died?"

Odysseus cleared his throat, then recounted a dramatically shortened tale of his encounter with Aphrodite. Not only was he trying to save time, he wanted to spare Hector the imagery of the ruined Troy.

Hector nodded as he finished. "You're not the man I thought you were, Odysseus."

Odysseus frowned. "What do you mean, Prince Hector?"

Hector smiled. "I knew you as a blade, a mind that cut through lives coldly and without remorse. But you chose to save my son. You chose to ignore the will of Zeus out of love for your wife. You're better than I thought you were."

"Nobody is that noble," Odysseus replied. "I'm still as cold as ever. I've tricked, I've killed, I've stolen. I'll do whatever it takes to get home."

Hector nodded. "Good."

"Good?"

"You've proven that you have what it takes to bring my son home alive. Thank you."

The three of them held onto this moment. Astyanax gazed at his father; he wanted to return home to him. 

"Goodbye, my son. I will always love you."

Charon and his ship departed. Hector stretched out his arms to Astyanax with tears in his eyes, the distance between them growing as Charon paddled away. They were gone.

-

Light. They turned their heads to witness a strange light on the horizon. It was unusual; a natural light in a place as unnatural as this. Hope descended upon all of them. 

"Crew, begin rowing! We're going to make it out of here."

The crew cheered, the joy an uncommon contrast to the wailing of the Underworld. They began to row in tandem, the ship picked up speed. With every passing second, more light shined, the darkness receding. More rowing.

Odysseus felt the sun on his face. He took a deep breath of air. Tears of joy pooled in his eyes as he felt a breeze blow past him. Sea. Life. Joyfully to the breeze royal Odysseus spread his sail, and his rudder skillfully he steered. 

Chapter Text

Behold, Prince Telemachus of Ithaca!

The lanky young man worked in town for the day. He was on the cusp between boyhood and adulthood, his features unsynchronized with either. Sparse patches of hair grew on his face, uneven and fuzzy in most places. His feet and hands were large, larger even than most men. His arms and legs had not caught up yet, their slender forms appearing almost comical with these massive hands on the ends. Had he been more aware of his appearances, he would have been beautiful, inheriting traits from his mother Penelope and his father Odysseus. But he was not worried about appearances today; he was concerned with fish.

Telemachus worked in a small building dockside. His hands were tarnished with the signs of work. His knife cut and opened the lifeless fish; his fingers reached inside and scooped out guts to be tossed aside for other uses. An old man named Kouros watched him work, admiring both his dexterity and strong nose. His wife, Chresta, worked the next step in the process, preserving the meat for later use. The two of them made a great team already, but were still pleased to have the assistance of the prince for the day.

"This is far beneath the work of a prince, Telemachus," the old man chuckled. His hands worked almost automatically, a mastery earned through decades of experience.

Telemachus smiled. "As prince, I have the right to choose how I spend my time. Besides, I'm going to be your king one day. It would be wise for me to understand the lives of my subjects that I am to rule."

The old man laughed. "Ha! As if I'm going to live that long. I was too old to go to Troy. There's no way I'll outlive your father." 

A glint of hope flecked in the prince's eye. His father. "You think he still lives?"

"I don't see why I wouldn't. Haven't you heard the news?"

Chresta shook her head. "The boy's not glued to the docks like you are, dear. Go ahead and tell him."

"Tell me what?"

Kouros nodded. "Well, the sailors have been chatting. Squawking, like they always do, a bunch of gulls! Anyway... Achaean kings are returning from Troy. Not all at once, mind you, but word is spreading."

Telemachus raised his eyebrows in astonishment. "Kings!? Which kings? Tell me!"

"All right, all right... no need to rush. We have all day to chat," Kouros replied, grabbing a new fish to cut. "The first one back was good old Nestor. As we all expected."

Telemachus nodded. He was raised on the tales of wise and pious Nestor. It would make sense that the gods would grant him safe passage home. "Who else?"

Kouros and Chresta's eyes darted to each other, as if they were to just reveal a scandal. Chresta began. "Telemachus, brace yourself for this next one... King Agamemnon returned from Troy to his wife Clytemnestra. I'll spare you the details, but Agamemnon is dead!"

"Dead!? How?"

"Well, everyone has said that Clytemnestra killed him."

Telemachus tried not to smile. He failed. He could not contain his amusement, his sense of revenge. He never knew the man, he only knew that Odysseus went to go fight with him. 

"So what does this mean for my father? Do you think he'll return home soon?"

Kouros shrugged. "If I hear anything, I'll head right to the palace."

Telemachus reached for the next fish, only to find an empty surface. Without realizing, they had finished. 

"Well, I better get going," Telemachus said.

"Very good then," Kouros replied. "Wish our queen warm regards, will you?"

Telemachus nodded and began to depart.

"Make sure to wash that fish stink off before you do!" Chresta added.

Telemachus scurried through town on his way to the palace. The population of Ithaca was unnatural compared to what it was before the war. The men that went to fight left behind a void. The very old and the very young were left behind. As a result, Telemachus spent most of his time with elders in the community. A servant of Odysseus, Mentor, trained Telemachus in combat and kept him in good physical form. A swineherd, Eumaeus, taught Telemachus how to run a farm, which became countless life lessons. There were Kouros and Chresta at the docks. There were many others of course, all played a variety of roles to help raise the young prince. He was beloved by the community, and he supported them in turn.

Telemachus followed an all-familiar path to his home. He broke out into a run, for no good reason, simply that he could. He reached the palace, muscles flushed with exercise and panting. He made his way in through a side entrance; he avoided the fanfare of the main entrance whenever possible. He cleaned up before venturing further into the main palace.

The palace was cool, the shade inside sheltered from the midday sun. He walked freely to the throne room. His footsteps pattered on the stone floors. Men lingered. Dozens of them. Scores, even. They did not appear to have a task in mind, but spent many hours in the palace anyway. Some men were headed to the throne room as well. They arrived at the same time.

Two thrones stood at the end of the room: one empty, one filled with the queen. Her outfit and demeanor were muted. She remained stoic on the throne. Several men stood close to the raised platform near the thrones, but she paid little attention to these loiterers. They were visitors, nothing more. She regarded them with productive apathy, answering their questions with hypotheticals and redirections. However, her expression dramatically improved with her new visitor.

"Telemachus! You're home," the queen exclaimed.

Telemachus smiled. "I know I said I was going to be out longer, but I have some news to share!"

"Go on, then!"

Telemachus looked around at the lingering visitors, staring at him and his mother intently. Too much staring, as if they were waiting for him to make a mistake. Telemachus cleared his throat.

"I'm glad the palace is so busy today, we all need to hear this..." Telemachus announced. He darted his eyes back and forth at the men in the room, their attention fixed on him. "King Agamemnon has returned from Troy!"

The room went into an uproar. The queen sat back in wondrous joy, but held her feelings inside. Men were muttering amongst themselves, some in disbelief, some in disgust, some in excitement, some in curiosity. 

Telemachus waited for the noise to die down before continuing. "With Achaean Kings returning, we have proof that King Odysseus is on his way back. All of them took different journeys home, you see. Therefore, the Queen is spoken for. All of you may leave."

The room exploded again. The suitors did not mutter this time, they yelled. They pointed at the prince angrily, they pointed at each other, they talked over one another. No words were intelligible. Anger was palpable. It was converging on Telemachus.

Penelope raised her hand to silence them. The room immediately hushed, every suitor following her lead in an attempt to draw approval from her. 

"What my son was trying to say..." Penelope corrected. "...is that the fate of my husband is unknown. I know that all of you pray for his safe return, and your honor lies with Ithaca."

She eyed them suspiciously, wagering their reputation if they dared disagree with her. She continued.

"Until we know his fate, I will not remarry. However, you may stay here if you wish. The palace of Ithaca is welcome to any visitors with good intentions."

The men shuffled around awkwardly before leaving the room. Telemachus and Penelope were left alone in the throne room.

"Mom!? What was that? You still want them here?"

Penelope looked around nervously. She ensured that they were alone. "I've never wanted them around," she whispered. "But we need to stay tactful. We need to keep them under control. If men like this abandon their honor, I don't even want to talk about what would happen."

"But," Telemachus replied. "Dad is on his way home. They wouldn't dare challenge him!"

"He's on his way, but he's not here yet. We're on our own for now. Follow my lead, understand? I'll take care of them."

Telemachus frowned, but nodded. "Fine."

Penelope smiled and ruffled his hair. "I love the news you brought. You were just a little dramatic about it, that's all."

Athena sat on her throne. It was in her own chambers, and resembled a tactician's seat more than a pompous throne of a ruler. It was made with strict practicality in mind, favoring function over aesthetics. In a way, this was an aesthetic in itself, with the throne having a simple elegance to it. 

The rest of Athena's chambers were like this. Columns, furniture, decorations... it was all cohesive, all adding to a complete vision. Compared to other gods, it felt a touch on the empty side; this brought more attention to the featured treasures she displayed. A bronze sculpture of an owl. A mounted shield with the face of a gorgon. An arrangement of spears suspended to capture an abstract moment of battle. Athena loved it all.

Athena was in some sort of trance, her gray eyes glazed over with a glowing light. She was in the mortal world, in some sense. She was offering her support and support to her devotees. Visions, advice, guidance. Their devotion was rewarded with her blessings.

Aphrodite peeked her head around the corner.

"Hey, you busy?"

Athena was present enough to hear and acknowledge her, despite a portion of her presence dedicated to the mortal world.

"Yes, I'm busy."

"Oh, I can come back la-"

"No. Come in!"

Aphrodite smiled as she entered. Athena was straightforward, efficient, almost to the point of bluntness. But she knew her, and realized that this kind of invitation was warmth from Athena. If she needed any more proof that Athena wanted to see her, there was a special chair that Athena had placed near her specifically for Aphrodite. Its style clashed with the rest of Athena's realm, but she kept it around because she knew Aphrodite liked it. She took a seat in the comfortable chair and happily waited for Athena to finish.

"Thanks for coming over. I'm going to keep working for a while. But I want you to stay," Athena said, her eyes still glowing.

"Of course," Aphrodite replied. "Seeing you work is actually a good reminder."

Aphrodite raised her posture and entered a trance of her own. Her eyes began to glow, a pink light resembling a rose petal. The two of them worked in comfortable silence with each other. Just being in the same room was pleasant.

Athena ended her trance, her eyes returning to her normal gray. 

"Alright, I'm finished. Did you have something for me?"

Aphrodite snapped back into focus, too. "I mostly just wanted to hang out. But I did want to fill you in on Odysseus and Astyanax."

"Who?" Athena lied.

"You know, your mortal champion, the King of Ithaca. And my mortal champion, the Last Prince of Troy."

"Oh, I know the King of Ithaca. But he's not my champion anymore."

"Hmmm, okay. Well in that case, I won't tell you that Poseidon destroyed his entire fleet."

Athena raised her eyebrows. "What!?"

"And I won't tell you that they survived and found refuge on Circe's island. They lived there for a year in her hospitality. I could feel the heat between Odysseus and Circe, it was a thrill! You've made it clear... so I won't tell you any of that stuff," Aphrodite said with a smirk.

Athena smiled. "Well... thank you. It's good that your Prince is okay."

"I'm glad he had a champion to protect him," Aphrodite said with some sentimentality. "Have you considered assisting him again?"

Athena shook her head. "I have plenty of mortals that need my help, want my help. And they actually follow my advice. I'm not going to waste time on him anymore."

"So, you might be looking for another champion, then?"

"Anyway," Athena said, trying to change the subject. "I'm glad you came over! Did you have anything planned?"

Aphrodite smiled. "I was thinking that you could ramble about whatever topic you're fixated on while I do random tasks."

Athena's face lit up. "Really!? You're not messing with me, right?"

Aphrodite shook her head. "No, I really want to! I knew you would like it."

Athena sat next to Aphrodite on her chair. It was big enough for two. 

"Okay! Well, to begin, let me tell you a little bit about what I have been working on..."

Athena began to unfold into a lecture about city planning, which winded into details about architecture, population densities, resource allocation, transportation, and more.

"...so, there's this interesting threshold that we cross once the population grows to a certain amount. All of a sudden, we have to deal with food consumption, waste generation, and public health in a completely different way! For example..."

Aphrodite braided Athena's hair as she listened, an idle task to keep her hands busy as she was engaged by the lecture. Athena had a way of speaking that demonstrated both her expertise and passion in these topics. 

"...and tangentially, what kind of securities and safeguards are present in our system to protect it from threats? Of course, threats are a very vague term; vague on purpose. Could it be disease? Natural disasters? War? Let's focus on that last one a little bit more..."

Aphrodite had long finished braiding Athena's hair and her own. In fact, she had switched to weaving. She kept listening.

"...for all of the prosperity that mortals generate, there will always be an external threat that covets it. It is a simple pattern. An organism tries to collect as many resources as it can for as little effort as possible. But things get more complicated when we start considering nations and kings instead of simple organisms. I have been guiding them every step of the way, and I guide them here too."

Aphrodite continued to listen to Athena speak.

"...from a narrative perspective, it's satisfying, comforting even, to view war as a theater where great deeds are rewarded and glory is earned. But it's really about organizing resources and timing. Does the arrow care about what glory it earns its archer? No. But does the archer care how many arrows they have? Yes. There is no better example than the Achaeans at Troy..."

Athena spoke about the Trojan War clinically, almost detached. Aphrodite stopped paying attention to her exact words, only remembering the events as she felt them. Where Athena was explaining efficient supply chains, cunning tactics, and deadly weapons, Aphrodite only heard of blood, death, and destruction. She began to frown, her heart filling with sorrow.

"Stop."

"What? Oh. Oh... Sorry. Forget I said anything."

It was too late. The damage had been done, and the past had been unearthed. Aphrodite pictured the body of her beloved Prince Hector dragged behind the chariot of Achilles. She remembered Andromache forced to leave behind her son, Prince Paris slain by the son of Achilles. A palace in ruin. A city destroyed.

"Aphrodite? Are you okay?"

"No."

"Aphrodite, I didn't mean to bring up Troy," Athena tried to explain.

"I... I just remembered I had something else planned. Um. I have to go..."

"Wait. Is this all because I brought up Troy?"

Aphrodite stood up to leave. Her frown had grown. "You just reminded me of something; I've been thinking about our time together. If Odysseus is no longer your champion, then we don't need to interact with each other any more. Good luck."

Aphrodite left, leaving an unfinished weaving in Athena's loom. Athena sighed, still looking at the empty doorframe that Aphrodite used as an exit. Athena stood up and pushed Aphrodite's chair out of sight.

Chapter Text

Telemachus rose before the sun, eager to start a new day. He had been meaning to visit his grandfather, Laertes, who lived on a farm away from the palace. Laertes still commanded authority, but the loss of his wife and son had broken his heart. Telemachus tried to visit whenever he could. He loved to hear tales of his grandfather's life. The sky was still dark as he departed.

"Whhaaassss this guyy doing here!?" An angry voice stopped him, the words slurred and drenched in alcohol. A group of suitors were wandering back to the palace after a long night of drinking. 

"I dunno who thish guyy thinnks he isss," one of them said with a point.

Telemachus did not know this one's name. His mother had scores of suitors, and none of these were remarkable. He sidestepped and tried to move past. They moved to block him. A group of bullies. 

"Hey! I wasss talkkin' to you, mister boy man! Little baby prince boy. Imma be your dad one day!"

Telemachus gritted his teeth in anger and glared. "What the fuck did you just say?" He hissed.

"Ooooohh! The baby boy knows how to swear! Aren't you a little small to be talking like that?"

"Fuck off, drunk. Leave me alone, I'm warning you!"

"You thinkkk you can jus' tell us whatta do? How about... YOU fuck offf, huh? Sayin' shit like 'blah blah blah, you're no longer welcome around here, blah blah blah.' You can't talk to us like that!"

The brutish suitor kneed Telemachus in the gut, surprising him and knocking the wind of him. He keeled over in pain as another suitor shoved him over. Instinctively, Telemachus covered his face with his arms and tucked his legs to protect his gut. He felt a kick. Another kick. Another kick. He grimaced in pain and rage. Rage. Rage! He needed revenge.

A strange clarity entered his mind. The next kick that he expected did not come. With eyes shut tight, he witnessed an owl.

"Behold my protection, young prince," a divine voice announced. Her voice carried authority and was stern.

Telemachus opened his eyes to find the source of the voice, but only saw the suitors in mid-strike. They seemed different somehow. Slower, clumsier, telegraphed. Telemachus swiftly rolled away, dodging all of their kicks. He sprang up to face them, fists raised in guard.

"Well done! You've avoided their attacks. Now deliver an appropriate reprisal," the voice continued.

"Appropriate reprisal?" Telemachus muttered aloud to himself. The suitors glared in confusion. One lunged forward.

The best course of action became obvious, as though it was prescribed with divine aid. The suitor's face was wide open. Telemachus gave it a quick jab, punishing the suitor's forward momentum. He fell over in pain.

"Who's next!?"

Another suitor tried to punch Telemachus, the swing was so obvious. Telemachus slipped through easily, and answered with an uppercut. Bone met bone, teeth crunched together and his fist impacted his jaw.

The remaining suitors witnessed this disaster and cut their losses. They ran away in the direction they came, leaving behind their friends on the ground. Telemachus watched them with disgust. The suitors on the ground groaned in pain. It was over.

The presence of the goddess calmed his rage. He would have wanted to kick them, get revenge for their unprovoked attack. But this clarity gave him a sense of peace. Somehow he knew that going any further would bring him more trouble than it was worth. Emotion and reason clashed with each other at first, but soon they intertwined. Telemachus sighed.

"Alright. Go get some rest, and trouble me no more."

Telemachus clasped the arm of one of the suitors and heaved him up. He did the same for the others. They sheepishly avoided his gaze, embarrassed on many levels. They scuttled away.

The owl flashed again in his mind. Telemachus dropped to his knees in gratitude.

"Thank you for your aid, goddess! I will gladly offer my devotion to you. I must know your name."

"Do you really not know?"

Telemachus had heard tales from his mother, his grandfather, and citizens of Ithaca. He knew exactly who this goddess was, but he wanted to play as modest in her presence. "Athena!"

"Ah, very good. If you hadn't pieced that together, I would have had my doubts of whether you would make a good champion."

"Champion!?"

"I suppose it's no secret to you that I favored your father. I sense promise in you. Your mother is clever as well, you have much to live up to."

"Athena, have you heard from my father? Please, tell me how much longer he will be gone."

"That's enough questions. I must depart."

The conversation had ended abruptly. He could not see Athena's face, but imagined that it had grown stern with that last sentence. Perhaps he had asked a forbidden question? Telemachus knew better than to question her further. Despite this awkward end, Telemachus couldn't stop grinning. Athena's blessing was incredible! He felt superhuman.

Telemachus sprang to his feet and ran to the home of Laertes. There was no need, but running felt good. The quaint farmhouse was soon visible. His grandfather welcomed him inside despite the early hour. He was already awake.

"Telemachus! It's been too long. How are you?" Laertes said as he reached for a hug.

"Hi grandpa!"

Laertes squeezed his grandson's arms with pride. "Look at how much you've grown! You're almost a man now. I remember when you were just an infant. Time really flies, doesn't it."

Telemachus shrugged, his life felt about as long as anything. 

Laertes and Telemachus sat down and caught up with each other. Laertes did not have much new happening, the farming life was quiet. Telemachus, in contrast, had so many stories to share. He told his grandfather about his work with the fish, his work with the swine, the fight he got into, everything. At last, he informed Laertes that Achaean kings were making it back home.

Laertes sat back in joyful surprise. "Good old Nestor... it makes sense that he made it back. Now, I'm sure you're leading to this... you think Odysseus is almost home?"

Telemachus nodded excitedly. "I do! Grandpa, I can hardly imagine what it's going to be like when he gets home. We have so much to talk about."

"That makes two of us," Laertes said with a smile. "Do me a favor, though. Stay out of fights with those suitors! I don't trust them."

"They attacked me! I was just defending myself."

"I know, and I'm proud of that. Just be careful, is all. Your mother has a good head on her shoulders; she works hard to keep things as peaceful as possible."

"Are you ever going to come back to live with us?"

Laertes sighed. "Sorry, son. My place is here."

"Come to visit, at least?"

"I suppose I could make that work.”

Laertes and Telemachus returned to the palace together. The sight of the king's father was enough to stir excitement in Ithaca. Rumors of homecoming floated between the villagers. The presence of Laertes reminded the people of their true king, and reminded them that Penelope was their queen. For the first time in years, Ithaca could put the war behind them. For now, at least.

In all directions, there was only sea. Odysseus and the crew had made it out of the Underworld, but they had no idea where they were. There was light, at least, and a breeze. But without knowing where they were, sailing in any direction had the risk of bringing them further from home.

"Captain? What are our orders?" Asked Eurylochus.

Odysseus sighed, hesitant to admit they were lost. "For now, let us only go where the breeze takes us. As usual, stay on the lookout for any birds we can follow to land."

"But sir, why would we need to land? Circe supplied us before we left," reminded Etimos.

"Correct. As for my plan, I anticipate a vision of Athena will help us get home," Odysseus explained, neglecting to mention that Athena had not contacted him in over a year.

"Very well," said Theris.

They took their leave. 

Astyanax had been silent since the Underworld. He was strong enough to sit on his own, but was still getting used to walking. Odysseus knelt down next to him.

"Greetings, prince. Welcome back to the land of the living. The sea of the living, I suppose."

Astyanax did not respond, not even acknowledging him.

"Well, let's get you inside until nightfall. There's nothing to be gained by getting scorched from the sun."

Odysseus heaved him up, noticing how much heavier he had gotten in the past year. Andromache's clothes no longer fit him. Thankfully, the nymphs on Circe's island had prepared outfits for him. Beyond that, the nymphs made clothes in graduating sizes for Astyanax to grow into. They had everything they needed to get home. They just needed to know where to go.

Night fell, a full moon swallowing up the nearby stars. The sea was cool and still, the ship moving only with a slight breeze. Moonlight reflected upon the water, the field of vision almost as abundant as a cloudy day. The moon provided enough vision for them to see something. Some sort of shadow. Something that did not belong on this empty horizon.

Out of curiosity, Odysseus gave the order to sail to the shadowy figure. It was though night was trying to obscure it; it would have disappeared had Odysseus not kept his gaze fixed on it. With every second that passed, the shadow loomed closer and closer. A cold breeze blew over his skin, a soft howl like a ghost. His hair stood up; a chill descended down his spine. Something inside him told him to turn back. He fought this feeling. 

A ship! Yes, it was unmistakable. Now that they were closer and the light had changed, the features of the ship were apparent. Odysseus recognized its craft to be of Achaean origin, but could not discern which precise country. He gave the order to sail parallel to the ship. Once they were close enough to make a signal, Odysseus could communicate that they were not a threat. Out here, information and directions were worth more than any treasure they could plunder.

The two ships lined up with each other. This shadowed ship simply bobbed in the dark sea, no direction in mind. Odysseus strained his eyes, looking for torches or the stirring of the crew. Empty. Strange. It was night, to be fair… but strange. But the silence was unnerving. Odysseus gritted his teeth and clutched his sword.

"Prepare to board," he calmly said.

"Yes, Captain," Lysander replied.

Half a dozen men boarded the empty ship. Their steps echoed underneath them, the deck planks creaking under their weight. They slowly proceeded, one step at a time. Their swords were drawn and torches were raised. Only silence.

"Captain," whispered Galen. "Where is everyone?"

"We'll learn soon enough. Follow me, I want answers."

The crew huddled behind him in single file, their teeth chattering. Was it the cool breeze on an empty night like this, or something deeper? 

"Captain, this ship is obviously empty. Let's leave," cried Eurylochus.

"Hush, Eurylochus. Keep your sword gripped tightly."

Odysseus lifted a trap door to reveal a wooden staircase. They cautiously delved deeper, testing every stair before committing their weight to it.

Silence.

Odysseus raised his torch to look for any clues. There was nothing suspicious here. It was orderly, even. They ventured further, opening doors and inspecting rooms. The crew was nowhere to be found.

"Captain, over here!" Called Eurylochus. He found the ship's supplies, ample enough for this far from home. "Could pirates have taken them?"

Odysseus shook his head. "Pirates would have stolen all of these supplies when they kidnapped the crew. Furthermore, I could imagine them commandeering this entire vessel. At least, that's what I would do... if I were a pirate."

"Well, it'd be a shame for these supplies to go to waste," said Eurylochus. "Maybe I could start bringing this over to our ship?"

"Good idea. In fact, the rest of the men can help you load the supplies. I'm going to stay here for now."

Eurylochus nodded, grateful to take the soonest opportunity to get off this ship.

Odysseus ventured deeper into the ship alone. Silence. He reached what he assumed was the captain's quarters. This was definitely a merchant vessel, not a warship. Unfortunately, there was nothing to be said about where this ship came from or where it was going. There was no sign of struggle or combat. It was as though the captain simply stood up and went to work as though it was a normal day, the notable exception was that there was no captain to be found. There was nobody to be found, in fact. Where were they?

He continued to walk through the ship in search of clues. Eventually, the entire ship had been searched and stripped clean of supplies. He stepped out on deck and peered into the inky black sea, illuminated by the moonlight. Odysseus had once been the champion of Athena; he used his wisdom to solve the mystery.

What information was available to him? What conclusions could he deduce from it? There was a lack of information, no stories were told about the disappearance of the crew. A lack. A lack... A lack! The unseen told a story in its own right. 

The crew had hopped from the ships, voluntarily, into the sea. There was no raid, there was no struggle, there was no weather or storm. They had plunged into the depths to their certain doom, and none had put up a fight. Odysseus could think of no other monster.

Siren.

Chapter Text

Odysseus was the last to leave the abandoned ship. He had given his crew leave to take whatever they pleased from it. Everything of value was recovered, save the ship itself. 

"Captain... what happened here?" Asked Eurylochus, a chill still raising the hair on his arms.

"Sirens. This ship must have drifted to us after the crew jumped to their deaths," Odysseus explained.

The crew looked around at each other nervously. "What are our orders?" 

"Prepare the oars to row in the opposite direction of the dead ship. We're going to follow their trail."

"What!?"

Odysseus raised his hand to calm them. "Fear not, crew. Fill your ears with beeswax to block out their song. Keep Astyanax below deck and fill his ears as well. Keep him away from danger."

"But why? Why even risk going near?"

"I want to hear the song. Need to hear it. The sirens will sing to me of my greatest desire: to return home safely. We can use their song as a guide."

The crew nodded, but were still hesitant. "Captain... surely we would lose you to them. There is no way to resist their song."

"Tie me to the main mast of the ship. Tie me so that I would have no hope of escape. I know I will want to, you must ensure that I cannot. I will beg, I will thrash, I will curse. Do not release me."

"A fine plan, Captain."

The crew set out to follow through with the plan. Once their ears were filled, no dialogue could continue.

"Okay, just to test this out... can you hear me, Eurylochus?"

Eurylochus pointed to his ear, gesturing that no sound got through.

Odysseus nodded, as any other words would fall on literally deaf ears.

The crew set out to tie Odysseus to the main mast. Their knots were all of expert quality given their experience on the seas. His arms were fixed to his sides, and he was suspended slightly. He could not wiggle free, he could not fidget with his arms, he could not stomp or kick. Odysseus was wrapped up in a cocoon made of rope. It was tighter than he would have liked, and the ropes were digging into his flesh. But he knew this is how it had to be, and nodded in support.

The ghostly night was fading. The abandoned ship disappeared behind them and they retraced its path. Rosy-fingered Dawn stretched out across the sky, bringing a sense of tranquility and hope. They paddled against the wind, sails tied to minimize resistance. It was more of a breeze than a true wind, which worked to their advantage. Muscle flexed as oars entered the water. They pulled back with their cores and arms working as one, generating much more power than what arms alone could achieve. Their rhythm synchronized automatically, their strokes subconsciously adjusting to their neighbors. They made good time.

Rocks. Rocks on the horizon. The ship was heading directly into danger. As planned. Eurylochus would serve as the navigator while Odysseus was secured, and he would use gestures and wave flags to communicate. They were prepared. Odysseus felt himself get almost excited; the siren's song was fabled to be enchanting beyond description.

Eurylochus slowed the ship as they approached the rocks. The hull glided through the water. He gestured for Theris to ease on the rowing so that he could control their direction more effectively. Sharp rocks threatened them, Eurylochus steered the ship to avoid them. Although Odysseus usually took this role, Eurylochus performed with excellence. Had he not been paying attention, their journey may have come to an end there. It was the perfect place for sirens to live.

Sirens were spotted. Eurylochus could see their mouths open, their throats vibrating in song. He could hear nothing. Some sat on rocks and some bobbed in the water. They were all wet, that was unmistakable. Beyond that, they looked sharp. Sunlight shimmered on their wet coats. Their skin was covered in a sort of hybrid between scale and feather, slicked down and organized neatly. These feathers were hydrophobic, and water cut around them as they swam. Eurylochus shuddered at the thought of them swimming. Their speed and agility would vastly outperform even the best mortal swimmer. The overall form of the sirens loosely represented human women, but they seemed closer to aquatic birds. Almost everything about their appearance was repulsive.

However, beauty is in the eye of the beholder. Odysseus listened to the sirens' songs and was enchanted by them. He saw the same creatures as Eurylochus, but he had the treat of listening to them sing. Their song was sweet and alluring, the tempo slow and smooth. Odysseus could not imagine a more beautiful song. And what a lovely source. Their feathers were perfect, he imagined what it would be like to run his hand over their surface. Would they feel as good as they sounded? He had no doubts. He needed to be with them. He needed to be with them now.

"Eurylochus, release me!"

Eurylochus did not even look at Odysseus. He was too busy steering around the deadly rocks.

"Etimos! Release me, I need to be released!"

He saw Odysseus scream, but could not hear his voice. He looked to Eurylochus instead.

"Let me out! Let me out! I demand it! I am your captain, you have to obey my command," Odysseus screamed.

The sirens continued to sing. Their allure was something deep, something complicated. The desire was not quite lust; his feelings for the sirens were much different than his feelings for Penelope or Circe.

"You worthless bastards! Listen to me! Listen!! Damn you all! Damn you all! Let me out," Odysseus ranted.

The sirens promised Odysseus everything he wanted. All he had to do was join them. How heavenly it would be to join them. He could listen to their song for the rest of his days, bask in the music. Their beauty was ethereal, airy, flowy. It was like the water they swam in, the blue tides lit by the sun, the dark depths where even light cannot reach. Odysseus loved the sea, he loved the sirens. Only a creature this beautiful could create a song this beautiful. Perfection existed, it was right here.

"I will kill every last one of you if you don't release me! I will rip you apart, limb from limb! I will shatter your bones on the rocks, I will spill your blood into the sea. I will relish in your torture. By the gods, I will destroy you! Let me out!" Odysseus raved.

The crew could only see him screaming.

"Let me ooouu-" Odysseus coughed. "Let. Me. Out." More coughing. He was losing his voice. It hurt, but not enough to make him stop. He only needed the song now. All other sensations were irrelevant. He wanted the sirens.

Shadows of his wits remained. He remembered that the sirens were trying to kill him, trying to eat him. Their song was so enchanting, it made him tolerate it. Eager, even. He imagined their sharp teeth ripping into his muscle, blood spurting from the open bite and spilling into the sea. He would taste so good for them. It would be a perfect end. All mortals die, being eaten by a siren would be the best way to. 

The sirens sang a tale of homecoming. Their power allowed them to read the heart of Odysseus and weave his desires into their song. They sang of the journey he had been on in one verse, made it to the present in the second verse, and began to sing of his future. Odysseus listened carefully.

"The loveliest of the sea, the one who waits for me..." the sirens sang.

"A beast who feasts on mortal flesh, a terror yet unleashed..."

"The terrifying, the beautiful, the powerful, the gorgeous, the mysterious, the enchanting... Scylla!"

Odysseus grimaced. The monster Scylla was unavoidable. First Tiresias had warned him, now these sirens. He could not imagine being devoured by her when he would much rather be eaten by the sirens.

"Charybdis, the Swallower of Ships! None can escape. You must choose, you must choooooooose..."

Odysseus listened as the song drifted off with distance.

His ship was getting further and further away. He couldn't stop looking at the sirens, even when they were nothing more than dots of the horizon. At last, they disappeared completely. 

They were safe! His mind was at peace. The crew freed Odysseus from the restraint. Everyone removed the beeswax from their ears.

"How was it?" Eurylochus asked.

Odysseus looked down out of embarrassment. "Did you hear me say anything?"

The crew shook their heads.

"Thank the gods. I'm not proud of what I said. And I'm not proud of how I felt about the sirens."

The crew smirked. "How did you feel about the sirens?"

"It's complicated," Odysseus said with a shrug. 

Everyone laughed.

Athena was on her way to visit Aphrodite. She had not seen her since her last visit, and Athena knew that it ended awkwardly. She was curious to see how she was doing, to investigate this supposed rift that she was feeling. Everything made sense to Athena, everything except this. Aphrodite's door was locked.

"Hmmm," Athena pondered to herself. She deduced that Aphrodite must be away, probably congregating with some other gods. Athena turned and walked away, intent on finding her. Unfortunately, Athena was not in good graces with most of Aphrodite's friends. She was hoping it was not Ares. 

The sound of Athena's metal boots on the stone floor were joined by beautiful music. It was faint, several rooms away. The door was open, and it resonated through the halls. Athena approached.

The music was complex, yet cohesive. The chord structure was heavenly, and the progression felt as natural as breathing. Every note came together. The main melody was supported by subtle adornments. This was mastery.

Then came the singing. The voice was unmistakable: Aphrodite. This was a love song. There was so much passion in her voice. The lyrics told the story of separated lovers that longed to be reunited. Themes transitioned with the lyrics. The characters were together, they were apart, they were passionate and fiery, they were tender and loving. The song had it all.

Athena entered respectfully, not making a sound. She found Apollo playing music with Aphrodite singing. They noticed her immediately, but kept singing. Apollo glared, but his fingers still moved with expertise. Aphrodite looked away, pretending not to see her. They wanted to finish the song. Athena sat down and watched as if she were part of an invited audience. 

Aphrodite and Apollo came to the conclusion of the song. The lovers had reunited for the final time, they would never again be separated. A duet. The music came to a grand crescendo then resolved in a tender finale. Incredible. Athena stood up and applauded them.

"That was amazing! Great work," Athena exclaimed as she clapped.

Apollo's mouth was open in disbelief, and Aphrodite managed an awkward smile. "Um, thanks..." Aphrodite politely accepted the compliment.

"What are you doing here, Athena?" Apollo asked, his voice curt. 

Athena could tell that Apollo was not thrilled to see her, so she tried to focus on Aphrodite. "I came by to see you, I wanted to see if you wanted to spend some time together. I have a new champion that I wanted to tell you about!"

Aphrodite gave an embarassed smile, holding her composure to stop from grimacing. "Oh... um. Athena, we're a little busy. Can't you, um? I don't know what to say..."

"She's just being polite. Athena, she doesn't want to talk to you," Apollo interjected.

Athena grimaced. "Is this about what happened last time? I'm sorry I brought up Troy."

"Oh, Troy! Here to gloat, Athena!? The depths of your depravity, I swear." Apollo spat.

"I wasn't talking to you, Apollo. And I'm not trying to gloat! I came here to apologize."

"Athena," Aphrodite softly said. "I don't know why you would come to me about your new champion. What does that have to do with me, or our previous arrangement? I'm sorry, I could have been more clear. We're done, understand?"

Athena forced her face to keep smiling. "Oh. I guess I was mistaken. I thought... I, um. I thought you would, I thought we could... um. Sorry. I. Well."

Aphrodite frowned. "I know you don't like things to get personal. It just makes sense this way, don't you agree?"

Athena nodded reluctantly. "For what it's worth, I didn't mind getting personal with you..."

"Get out," Apollo interjected. "You helped destroy our favorite city. Our devoted followers. I don't know why you felt entitled to our company."

Athena's face remained as hard as stone. She addressed them both politely, and turned away to leave.

Athena made it out to the hallway. She out of view of Apollo and Aphrodite, but still within earshot. A frown snuck up to her face, she quickly forced it back up. She bit the inside of her cheek to keep her face from falling again. She could hold her feelings at bay. All she had to do was keep her chin up. 

"Ugh, what happened between you two?" Athena heard Apollo ask from inside the room.

"Long story."

"I know Athena's not into your whole 'love' thing, I can't imagine what brought you two together."

"She's not so bad once you get to know her."

"Ugh, you're too nice. Why is it always Aphrodite being nice? What has she ever done for you?"

Athena heard Aphrodite sigh. "I mean... she kept a chair I like."

Apollo laughed. "A chair!? Come on, Aphrodite! A chair."

"That's a big deal for her!"

"She still hasn't apologized. She won't. She doesn't think she's done anything wrong, so she doesn't feel bad when she hurts you."

Athena couldn't decide if she wanted to leave or stay. She hated that they were talking about her, but she was curious about what they were saying.

"Well," Aphrodite continued. "We shouldn't have to worry about her any more. I don't think she'll be stopping by after our conversation today."

"And for that, I am glad."

"Enough about Athena, right?"

"Right. You ready for the next song?"

"Let's do it!"

Athena began to walk away as the new song began. Loneliness weighed on her heart like an anchor. It pulled and pulled, trying to get her to frown, to cry. Athena took a deep breath. She convinced herself not to. There was no need. Feeling sad did her no favors, it was just a distraction. Things had gone back to the way they were. Aphrodite was not her friend. This was fine! This was fine. This was fine. Fine. Fine...

Chapter Text

Today, Telemachus was working with Eumaeus the swineherd. It was not going well.

"Damn it, Telemachus! I told you to hold it still."

"I know, I know! He's just wriggling around so much. I can't hold him," Telemachus explained.

"Here, let me show you," Eumaeus said as they switched positions.

Eumaeus grabbed the pig wholly and stabilized himself. The pig tried to squeeze out of his grip, but Eumaeus was using his weight to his advantage. He used his arms to pin the pig's legs to prevent it from escaping.

"See how I'm holding it? Ready to try?"

"Okay," Telemachus replied as they switched back. He did not have as much mass to stabilize himself, but he managed to hold the pig anyway. Barely. Eumaeus withdrew some clippers and a hoof.

"Alright, here we go. Just a couple little snips and we'll be much better..."

The clippers chomped through the excess keratin in the hoof. Eumaeus skillfully trimmed only the excess hoof. He repeated the process for the others, taking as many clips as he needed to get the job done. With this pig's hooves trimmed, Telemachus let it go and it scurried away happily.

"Well done, Eumaeus," said Telemachus.

"I've had a few years of practice, ha! Now, your turn."

"Oh. Um, do you think I'm ready to use the clippers? What if I mess up?"

"Just be careful, lad. You need to practice to learn."

Eumaeus wrangled down another pig easily and passed the clippers to Telemachus. He pointed down at the hoof.

"Okay. So here's the main hoof. Now, as we can see, there's quite a bit extra at the end. Go ahead and get your clippers lined up. Not too much, though! Remember, you can always cut more. You can't ever uncut something."

"Right..." Telemachus said as he focused. If Eumaeus's advice was to leave a little room for safety, Telemachus would be even more cautious.

Telemachus squeezed the clippers and the tip of the hoof snapped off.

"Nice!"

"Okay, okay. You've got to go some more now."

Another small clip. The pig was calm, proving that Telemachus had not gone too far.

"Just a little bit more, lad."

Telemachus squeezed again, holding his breath expecting the worst. It went well!

"Ready to keep going?" Eumaeus asked.

"Sure."

Telemachus repeated his clipping until all hooves were complete. His technique was a bit unpolished, but he managed to avoid any damage to the main hoof. This was a victory.

"Thanks for your help, prince. This is much easier business with the two of us."

"I know you could have gotten this done faster alone. So, I guess I should be saying thank you."

"Ha! You know, you might be too humble to be a prince. When are you going to learn to boast!?"

"I don't think I'll need any lessons for that," Telemachus chuckled. "Anyway, I better get going."

Telemachus departed from the farm and headed back to the palace. As usual, he ran. His lanky legs swung around ungracefully, but his speed was rather impressive for his age. He slowed to catch his breath whenever he felt like it. The rural landscape transformed as he grew closer to the city. He reached the palace.

Suitors were lounging around the hallways. It was impossible to get around without being noticed. There were too many of them, and they took up so much space. Telemachus tried to avoid them as he passed.

"Hey," called out one of the suitors. "Where are you going, son?"

Son. Fuck that. Fuck them. Telemachus gritted his teeth and turned around. He recognized this one. This suitor was prominent in Ithaca, a man named Antinous.

"I'm not your son. Don't call me that," Telemachus curtly replied.

"Easy, easy, boy. I just wanted to talk to you, that's all," Antinous said. His voice was sweet and gilded. It was technically friendly, but hid an artifice of deception underneath.

"Fine. What?"

"I heard about your little scrap with those drunkards."

"Whatever. I was just minding my own business."

"Oh, no, I'm not mad. Nice job with that! That should keep them well behaved..." Antinous said, his voice bounding. He leaned in close to Telemachus, gripping his shoulders as if to give him a sporting massage. "...but if you ever try that shit with me... I. Will. Fucking. Break. You. Got it?" Antinous hissed.

Telemachus shuddered. Antinous kept his voice low enough so that no one else could hear that last part. There was something sinister in his voice, how quickly his demeanor changed. Antinous meant it. Telemachus wriggled free.

Antinous spoke again, normally. "You and I are on the same side! The more suitors you beat up, the less competition I'll have to marry your mom!"

Telemachus glared. He was afraid, disgusted, angry. "F- Fu- Fuck you, Antinous," he stuttered.

Antinous eyebrows raised with smug curiosity. "Ohhh prince, that kind of language has no place in these royal halls. How about we teach you a lesson?"

Telemachus raised his arms to guard himself. He expected the worst. He blinked, and saw an owl flash in his retina. Athena!

"Run," she commanded.

"Show me how to beat them," Telemachus muttered to her, his speech to the goddess hidden from the suitors.

"Just run! I'll explain later."

Telemachus backpedalled away several steps, his eyes fixed on the angry suitors. Once he was far enough away to turn around, he bolted. His feet thundered on the floor like hooves. As Telemachus retreated, he heard Antinous cackling behind him.

"Aahhhahah! Run along little prince, run along."

The nearby suitors joined in the laughter, pleased to see the prince embarrassed.

Telemachus made it to his room and closed the door. The presence of the goddess remained.

"Athena, what was that!? I just ran. I looked weak."

"Telemachus, you were not winning that fight. Even with my help."

"What about those other suitors?"

"That was a different context. This time, you run away. Don't let your enemy goad you into taking a bad fight just because your emotions are running hot. When you fight, it's best to fight on your terms."

"I... that makes sense. Understood."

"Good."

Telemachus paused to collect his thoughts. He did not want to overstep, but he had so many questions.

"Athena, when you last blessed me, I noticed that you left as soon as I asked about my father? Why?"

"Ever observant, Telemachus. But your father is on his own journey. I will answer no questions regarding this topic."

"But why not? Please."

"Enough." Athena's voice was curt.

Telemachus grimaced, cursing himself that he may have offended the goddess.

"Athena, what can I do to show my devotion?"

He heard her laugh. "What a refreshing question from a mortal! You're doing fine, prince. However, I must be leaving. I have much to attend to. Farewell."

Telemachus felt his mind return to normal as the presence of the goddess returned to Olympus.

-

Athena opened her gray eyes and found herself on her throne. Her room was as bare and intentional as always, save for one exception. She looked over to the corner where Aphrodite's chair resided. Furniture on Olympus does not accumulate dust, until it is willed to. Athena believed that there should be a layer of dust on the chair, so it did. It had been too long since Aphrodite sat in it.

Time for that to change.

Athena shot up out of her chair, filled with determination. She had marched to Aphrodite in frustration before, now she was marching to demand answers. They were getting along so well, it seemed like one slip formed cracks in their friendship. Not to mention that Aphrodite's other friends did not have pleasant things to say about her. Ares hated her for obvious reasons. Apollo hated her for Troy. It seemed like Aphrodite was friends with everyone while Athena was friends with no one. Her bronze boots echoed through the magnificent halls of Olympus.

Aphrodite's door was open. Athena entered. Her realm was loud, gaudy, and over the top. Every surface invited comfort. Seats had cushions, tables were smooth and filed down, the lights were low. Aphrodite was looking out her window at the mortal world, observing Astyanax and Odysseus escape danger.

"Hey," Athena announced.

Aphrodite looked to see that it was her, then turned back around.

"Why are you ignoring me?" Athena asked.

Aphrodite rolled her eyes.

"Aphrodite, please. Tell me!"

"Ugh," Aphrodite sighed. "Come sit down."

Athena ran over to the loveseat, perhaps a little too quickly. Before sitting down, she stood facing her.

"I'm sorry."

"For??"

Athena thought about this. The Trojan War had always been a sore spot for them, and this recent argument had devolved to bring them here.

"I... should not bring up Troy with you again. I know that it hurts your feelings," Athena slowly said.

"Ach," Aphrodite scoffed. "Is that it!? So you really haven't figured out why I'm mad at you then. How about you save us both some time and leave me alone."

Athena fought her urge to frown. "Well, what is it? I'll apologize if you tell me!"

Aphrodite frowned. "You're hopeless. Fine. Whenever you talk about Troy, you never ACTUALLY APOLOGIZE. It's always 'sorry for bringing that up' or 'I didn't mean to say that'. What about your ACTUAL ACTIONS!?" Aphrodite exclaimed.

Athena bit the inside of her cheek and furrowed her brow in sad confusion. "What... what do you mean? You want me to apologize for the actual war!?"

"I mean... YES! You hurt me. Own that. I'm tired of pretending you didn't."

Athena glared. "I wasn't wrong, you know. I won't apologize unless I think I'm wrong."

"Oh, fine! Get out, then."

Athena did not leave. She just stood there.

"How come you befriended me before I apologized, then?"

"Ugh, Athena. This isn't about me. It's about you. Apologize, or leave."

Athena did neither.

Athena sat down near her. Aphrodite scooted away.

"What's wrong with you!? Leave!"

"I want to be friends again. Let me make it up to you. Please." Athena tilted her eyebrows upward, her gray eyes pleaded with her.

Aphrodite sighed. "Fine. I'm listening."

"What do you want me to do? I'll do it."

"Are you serious!? This might be the worst apology I've ever received."

Athena grumbled. "I... I'm not going to apologize, I think. But... maybe I could do you a favor? Or something?"

"You're the worst."

"Is that a yes?"

"Well, make your offer first. Then I'll decide if I'm still mad at you."

Athena sat there for a couple minutes while she thought. Aphrodite was staring at her, her expression full of both annoyance and curiosity. After everything they had been through, Aphrodite was ready to hear her out. She just needed to get it right this time. Athena thought about Aphrodite's most obvious desires, then slowly spoke.

"I. Um. I would be willing to... Ugh. This is so awkward. Okay. I could... make? Love? With you?"

Aphrodite burst into laughter. This offer was so absurd, so unexpected. No other reaction was possible. "Ahahaha, Athena! Be serious!"

Athena frowned. "I was. That kind of thing isn't very interesting to me, but I know how much you love it. I would be willing to try it with you."

Aphrodite couldn't help but smile. "Athena, as hot as you are, I wouldn't be into it. I have to know that my partner is having a good time. I know all about your... shall we say... temperment. I appreciate the offer, though."

"Thanks," Athena sighed in relief.

"Anyway," Aphrodite said, the smile fading as she got back on topic. "I'm still waiting to hear your offer."

Athena stood up and revealed a small blade. She grimaced. "If it works, then it works," she said as she handed it to Aphrodite. "You remember how Diomedes wounded you during the war? Let's get even."

"What!?"

"Stab me, slash me, cut me. I can handle it."

"Athena, look at me," Aphrodite said as she stood up. Their eyes met. They simply stared at each other for the moment. Aphrodite gripped the handle tightly. The blade felt natural to hold. It was perfectly balanced, a tool designed for Athena's battles. Athena had willingly given it to her; she lowered her guard. Had she ever willingly surrendered like this? It was almost unnatural for the Goddess of Wisdom. Aphrodite studied her gray eyes, tried to understand what was going on in her glorious mind. Just the fact that Athena had made this offer was proof that she cared for her, in her own way. But they had hurt each other. The pain was real.

"Are you going to do it?"

"Don't rush me! I'm thinking."

Aphrodite thought about their problems. She knew Athena wouldn't apologize. Was this a good enough replacement? Further, how long could they hold a grudge? Aphrodite knew that it was impossible to as an immortal. There was only one way to know if this would make her feel better. Aphrodite took a deep breath...

She slashed! Athena screamed in pain.

Golden ichor spilled from Athena's wrist. Aphrodite had not broken her eye contact with her before she slashed. The look on Athena's face was priceless. Surprise, terror, worry, and penance. After one attack, Aphrodite tossed the blade to the side and held Athena's wrist closed to stop further bleeding.

"Are you okay?" Aphrodite asked.

"I'll recover from this. For what it's worth, it hurts."

"I would hope it does," Aphrodite chuckled.

"This doesn't hurt as much as our fight did," Athena somberly remarked. "I would rather get cut by you again than stop being friends."

Aphrodite frowned and bit her lip. "Stop, you're going to make me cry. Here, let's get this bandaged up."

Aphrodite treated the wound and wrapped it up. After this resolution, a grand smile grew on her face.

"I haven't met anyone that would volunteer to get cut by me. You're one of my strangest friends, Athena."

"Friend?" Athena asked, her face glowing.

"Friend." Aphrodite confirmed.

Chapter Text

Odysseus knew exactly where to sail. The siren song was embedded in his mind as clear as a map. For the first time since they left Circe's island, Odysseus knew how to get home. More importantly, they sailed through the realms of the terrifying Oceanids, seas that Poesidon was less likely to observe.

Days passed. Odysseus made the sleeping schedule generous for the crew. No one rowed, they let the wind carry them. Odysseus knew that he had asked his crew to perform beyond their normal responsibilities in the Underworld and with the Sirens, so a couple days of slow sailing would be good for them. Circe's supplies were shared freely, there was no hunger on board. As far as sailing went, this was a rest.

Astyanax grew stronger every day. His walking was better now than it was on the island. It was no longer an extraordinary feat, just something that Astyanax was capable of. As incredible as this milestone was, Odysseus now had the task of following him around to keep him safe. The ship posed several dangers to the small prince. The ocean swayed them back and forth. Full-grown men worked and moved, sometimes not noticing him. Countless surfaces and tools jutted out at the worst possible height for him to smack his head. Odysseus followed him like a shadow.

"Whoa there, prince. Watch out!" Etimos said as he almost ran into him. He stumbled around Astyanax to avoid crashing.

"Thanks, Etimos. Sorry about that," Odysseus replied.

"No problem, Captain. Glad to see that things have gone back to normal."

Odysseus nodded. The Underworld hit Astyanax harder than any of them, but unfortunately he had to suffer in silence. He could not understand his feelings, and even if he did, he did not have the words to describe how he felt. On top of that, the sirens and their journey home took priority; Odysseus could not focus on Astyanax. Time, it seemed, had reignited his spark.

Astyanax began to climb the railing of the ship. Odysseus grabbed him quickly.

"No, Astyanax! That's dangerous," Odysseus warned him. "I need you to stay on deck."

"Deck," said Astyanax.

"Yes," Odysseus instructed as he pointed to the wood they were standing on. "Now that you're big enough to walk around, you have to be careful."

Astyanax nodded, but Odysseus had no way of knowing if he understood. He would just have to trust him.

The sun began to set and the sky grew dark. Astyanax yawned, ready for sleep. He had sufficiently burned through his energy. Lysander approached.

"Here, captain. I can take the boy," Lysander said.

"You will? Thanks. Keep up the good work."

Lysander nodded, taking his leave with Astyanax.

Odysseus smiled as the cool twilight breeze blew past him. The crew had been through so much and remained capable. He thought back to the day they left Troy. None of them expected that they would grow to care for the strange infant Odysseus rescued, but here they were. Astyanax had joined them for their whole journey home. He lived with them on Circe's island, raised by man and nymph alike. He even traversed the Underworld with them. He was a part of the crew. Etimos, Lysander, Theris, and all the rest, they anticipated his needs and filled them. Odysseus's heart swelled with pride.

"Good evening, Captain," Eurylochus greeted.

"I see the night shift suits you, Eurylochus."

"You know me well; I'd rather see the moon than the sun. What about you? staying up tonight?"

"Just a little longer. Danger is on our horizon. I need time to think about what to do."

"Fine, then. Get some rest tonight. I'll keep us steady."

Odysseus retired to his hammock. He didn't realize how tired he was until this moment. As soon as he closed his eyes, he was asleep.

He sank deep into the sleep. No thoughts came to him, save for the constant siren song that echoed in his mind. Although the allure of the song no longer called him directly, he could not forget what the sirens warned him about. Away from their spell, Odysseus could dream of what awaited them.

He dreamed of the sea. It was draining in a whirlpool like water in a sink. Nothing could escape this whirlpool. The momentum of the water pulled him closer and closer. By the time the whirlpool was visible, it was too late. Every effort he made to escape was in vain. He felt his stomach drop as the ship went tipped over the edge. He saw an open mouth, ocean water spilling into it at an unthinkable rate. Teeth, teeth, teeth. The monster swallowed everything. The last thing he saw was Charybdis.

Odysseus jolted upright in a cold sweat. Urgency raced through him. How long had he been resting? It made no difference, it had been too long. They were running out of time. He scrambled up to the deck, praying they were safe. The morning sun blinded him.

"Good morning, Captain," Eurylochus yawned. "Smooth sailing last night. I kept us on course."

"Did you see any whirlpools!?" Odysseus frantically asked.

Eurylochus looked confused. "I did not. Just us and the water."

Odysseus sighed. "I had the most terrifying nightmare. But it wasn't a dream, I don't think. It was the sirens... Eurylochus, gather everyone. I need to make an announcement."

Eurylochus yawned again, but called everyone over. Sailors from the day and night shift gathered for the morning. Astyanax climbed onto the deck in effort to fit in with everyone. He was not carried, walking of his own effort; the crew kept a watchful eye on him to be safe. Odysseus climbed onto a platform to make his voice heard.

"Attention, everyone. The time has come for me to share what I heard from the sirens..." Odysseus began. The crew hushed each other, keen on hearing what they would face. "We are on course for home. But we face grave danger on our route. The monsters that repel Poseidon are also our doom."

The crew murmured in fear and confusion. "What do we face?"

Odysseus grimaced. "We sail towards Charybdis, the swallower of fleets. The sirens revealed this to me in their song."

"What!? Turn us around! Captain, there is no hope for us!"

"Wait, I wasn't finished. Charybdis is just one obstacle, we may have another path. Any way around Charybdis is preferable. We must sail through the lair of Six-headed Scylla."

The crew nodded gravely. They knew what this meant, but this was their only way home.

"We still have some time to prepare," Odysseus continued. "Get some rest, I will wake everyone when we are getting close. I need every hand working when we are near. Every measure of speed we can gain is less time with Scylla. Dismissed."

The crew scattered, half heading inside to sleep and half attending to their stations. Prince Astyanax approached Odysseus.

"Scylla?"

"Yes, little prince. She's our only way home."

"We die?"

"No. We won't die. Everyone is going to be fine," Odysseus lied.

The sight of Scylla's domain paralyzed Odysseus with fear. He recognized it instantly. The song, the nightmare, his journey, it all led here.

The ship had slowly proceeded forward, Odysseus commanding everyone to rest as much as possible. They rose from their rest tentatively, doubting every step.

"Captain?" Asked Eurylochus.

"Yes?"

"In case this is our last conversation... I want to say goodbye."

"No, stop thinking like that. We need to hold it together."

Before they could speak further, Odysseus caught a glimpse in the corner of his vision. Something slipped past, a quick flash of information that brought more questions than answers. They were approaching.

"Everyone to your stations! When Scylla attacks, row as fast as you can. We must not panic."

The crew nodded with determination. Now that it was time, Odysseus summoned the crew to their full power. Sails were lowered, oars were grabbed. They sat at the ready, poised for action. Astyanax stood near Odysseus, clutching fabric from his cloak for comfort. With everyone on deck, Astyanax belonged up here with them.

"Forward!" Odysseus yelled. The ship began to accelerate. The contrast between their lagging and this new pace lurched the ship forward, almost staggered Odysseus. He held fast to the rudder with his right hand and Astyanax with his left hand.

The cliffs came alive. The sight betrayed his mortal senses, it seemed to defy reality. These were not rocks, these were not cliffs. These were scales. Odysseus quickly realized that the shapes that grew from the rock were necks and heads. The heads stirred, slithered, rumbled, expanded, grew, and exploded. He started counting. One, two, three, four, five... six! This was Scylla!

Astyanax screamed, Odysseus clutched him tightly as he cowered underneath him. Odysseus too felt his legs shake with fright, but speed was their only hope against her. He wanted to duck and cover, but he needed to set an example for the crew. If chaos broke out, the entire ship would be a feast for Scylla.

Scylla raised her six heads into the air. She peered down at them for half a dozen seconds, perhaps wondering how to make the most of this meal delivered to her. After this pause, she descended upon them. Her heads lunged, the speed at which they moved betrayed how massive they were. The heads slammed, bashed, battered, crashed, shattered, and ripped into the ship. The impact shook them all, Odysseus struggled to stay upright.

"Captain!!" He heard his crew scream.

He could barely think. Whenever Odysseus managed to wrap his mind around one of Scylla's heads, the others would surprise him instantly. For some reason, her first attack was on the ship and not the crew. This was too much, even for his mind. He cursed, that was the only thing to do.

"Forward! Forwarddddd!" Odysseus yelled.

Scylla was no mindless beast. Her many brains operated in tandem with each other. Her necks were unnaturally nimble, skillfully maneuvering as though they were fingers strumming a lyre. Her second attack plucked six sailors from the starboard side. They screamed as their bodies were lifted and ripped apart by her sharp teeth. Blood and fear showered down on them. Adrenaline surged, and the survivors began to row faster than ever.

Odysseus cursed again. He wiped blood and seawater from his eyes and tried to analyze the situation. Six dead on one side left them imbalanced, their paddling was skewed. Scylla knew exactly what she was doing, she wanted to cripple the ship as a whole. Odysseus snatched Astyanax and lunged for the rudder. He had to correct course or they would start paddling in circles. Water churned as he grounded the rudder into position. The interia of the ship resisted at first, but they lurched back on track.

Scylla spent her time chewing and swallowing. Every second that passed was more distance away from her. She lunged again. At the rudder, Odysseus was now closest to her. He braced for impact, braced for oblivion. Scylla's mighty jaw snapped shut just in front of him, the teeth stained with blood. This was as far as she could go. They made it!

Odysseus shuddered as Scylla's head receded. He looked at her with curiosity, a glimmer of mischief in her monstrous eyes. Her breath lingered for a moment, a stench of death and sea. He blinked, a flash of a mangled body seared into his mind.

"Eti..." Astyanax pointed at the water behind them, his voice broken. Etimos had been devoured.

Before Odysseus had time to mourn, he noticed something strange in the water. Scores of objects were floating in their wake. Debris and supplies drifted closer to Scylla. In the distance, Odysseus saw her scoop dried pork and other floating food into her mouths. Their supplies were leaking. Odysseus felt his heart sink. Scylla devoured the food that Circe supplied them with.

Astyanax sat there stunned in shock. Six of his friends were dead. Etimos, Lysander, Galen, Theris, Phaedrus... dead. He couldn't escape the image of the mangled leftovers of Etimos stuck in Scylla's mouth. These men had helped raise him. They were there in Ismarus, they looked over him while Odysseus slept, they taught him how to walk and speak. Their death was painful, and their screams echoed in the prince's ears. Astyanax could not believe this.

Odysseus looked down at the petrified prince. He gritted his teeth and sighed. He scooped him up and they walked to assess the damage. Odysseus commanded them to stop rowing, all efforts were made to repair the ship. Odysseus scavenged what little supplies and equipment they had remaining to prevent them from sinking. Onboard repairs were enough for now, but they would need to find land soon.

"Forward," Odysseus commanded.

Chapter Text

Save for vents of fire that bubble from the depths of Erebus or Oceanus, all life on the mortal plane depends on the light from the sun. This is all thanks to the Titan Helios, who rides the chariot of the sun across the sky each day. Light from the sun feeds life of both land and sea. From the smallest phytoplankton to the tallest tree, their cells convert the energy from the light into usable energy for life and growth. Animals feast upon these plants and each other, sprawling out into vast ecosystems. 

Somewhere in the vast uncharted sea lies an island dedicated to the Titan of the Sun. Every step is filled with verdant plants basking in the glow. By some sort of divine favor, the sun here is neither too dim nor too harsh. Mighty trees rise from the ground, but the shade they provide does not halt the growth below. Smaller plants climb trunks, stretch further, or grow larger leaves to absorb as much energy as possible. The island of Helios is a grand tapestry of biodiversity and life. 

The island is a paradise for the animals who live here. The grass is lush, tender, and delicious. No singular species thrives here, resulting in a rich forage variety. Cattle happily graze as much as they desire. The days are pleasant and carefree. There are no threats, food is abundant, and the climate only offers mild rain. Cattle moo to others in their herd. The Cattle of Helios play and graze as they feel soft sunbeams warm their hides. They nap together in groups, surrounded by friends and peace. The herds stick together, wandering across the island with no real goal in mind. After all, the entirety of the island is a destination. 

Odysseus paced across his ship, Astyanax following closely behind. Odysseus peered closely at the structure of the ship, analyzing for any sort of damage. He pointed out ragged and ruptured planks, describing to Astyanax the problems they were facing.

"Look at these marks here, little prince. Do you see how the water leaks through? That's very bad."

Astynax nodded along.

"Help me cover up these holes, will you?"

Astyanax nodded again. He was too young to actually help, but having him feel like a part of the crew had its own value. Six crew were dead after Scylla, so Odysseus needed as much help as he could get. He worked tirelessly to keep the ship shambling forward.

"Captain," Eurylochus entered. "Good news! We've spotted land!"

Odysseus sighed with relief, Astyanax mimicking him. "Perfect. That will allow us to properly repair."

"I was thinking the same thing. We'll keep this ship afloat until we get there."

"Thank you, Eurylochus."

"I did have one more thing, Captain."

"Yes?"

"I hate to bring this up, especially after Scylla... but what are we going to do about our supplies?"

Odysseus gritted his teeth. The question of hunger was constantly unanswered. Ismarus, Lotus Eaters, Polyphemus, and Circe... so many times their hunger had driven them to land. Into danger. But it had all been worth it, as it was better to die fighting than slowly starve. 

"Let's hope this island has what we need," said Odysseus. "If we're lucky, there won't be any monsters there!"

"Or witches," Eurylochus added.

The two of them chuckled. In better times, they might have laughed, but they had work to do.

The tide gripped the ship and slowly pulled it toward the island. Waves rose and crashed closer to the shore, causing the ship to bob up and down. Normally, they would have kept the ship anchored further from the shore to avoid running aground. Odysseus had to tamper his habit that he had formed and push through anyway. The creaking ship plowed through the sand on the beach, groaning with fatigue and wear. They jolted to a stop, staggering them all and tumbling Astyanax down.

Astyanax started crying. Perhaps it was the exhaustion of travel, the embarrassment that he had been the only one to fall, the pain of hitting the deck, or a combination of that. 

"Errr... I'll stay behind with the prince. The rest of you, head inland for supplies."

"Very good, captain."

Eurylochus and the rest of the crew climbed off the ship onto the island. The sand was soft and welcoming. They immediately noticed the lush and vibrant land off the beach. They strolled forward, a sense of hope upon them at last. Eurylochus spotted several trees they could bring down and process for lumber. But before that, they needed to find food. 

Their wishes were granted almost immediately. Eurylochus pushed some branches away and revealed a verdant glade filled with cattle. The cattle mooed to the new visitors happily. In the center of this glade was a statue, the only trace of artifice in this abundance of nature. The statue glowed with sunlight. 

"Eurylochus, what is that statue?"

"I bet the Captain would know. But who cares!? Look at these cattle!"

One of the cattle approached Eurylochus with curiosity. It gave him a big sniff and affectionate nuzzle. They knew no fear or threats. Why would these visitors harm them? Eurylochus drew his sword and there was no panic.

"Wait!"

"Captain?"

Odysseus appeared, Astyanax sitting on his shoulders. He pointed at the statue in distress.

"You don't see that statue!? That's Helios, the Titan of the Sun! We have to leave. Immediately."

Eurylochus glared, both with confusion and frustration. It was as though Odysseus was robbing this delicious meat from his hand. 

"What do you mean, 'we have to leave'?! We haven't gotten what we came for! Look at this meat."

"I'm sorry, Eurylochus, but Circe warned me. She told me that if we land on the island of Helios, we have to leave."

"Oh, enough about Circe! Why are you still hung up on her!? This happened in the Underworld too. I'm tired of it!" Eurylochus snapped.

Odysseus felt an anger surge. He was just as hungry and tired as the rest of them. "Eurylochus, we wouldn't have made it this far if not for her!"

"What about Scylla?"

"What about her!?"

"I heard the prophet tell you that Circe made Scylla. Six of your men, dead at Circe's hand!"

"You can't blame her for what Scylla did!"

"Why not? The blame lies with her. And you defend her."

"Oh, we're talking blame? At least Circe helped us, unlike some of us here."

"What's that supposed to mean!?"

"I haven't forgotten how you opened up the Wind Bag. We would be home now if not for you!"

"Oh, me!? What about you, Captain? Taunting the cyclops. I was there when Poseidon destroyed our fleet. He took revenge on YOU! And we all suffered for it. What do you have to say for yourself?"

Odysseus growled with rage. "For every obstacle we've faced, I've been there finding solutions. I've made mistakes, but I've made up for them."

"It's not enough, Captain. Look where we are. If this is a result of your leadership... then I'm done."

"What!?"

Before Odysseus could intervene, Eurylochus plunged his sword into the brain stem of the cow. It mooed in terror for a quick second, which sent the others into disarray. 

"No! Noooooooo!"

The cattle began retreat in all directions. Odysseus and Astyanax were forced away, massive walls of cattle forming between them at the rest of the crew. Odysseus dropped Astyanax to his arm, and they ran. 

The crew was left behind in the verdant glade with the fresh cow. Some lit a fire while others prepared the meat. This bounty was splendid. The cow was at the peak of its health, an ideal specimen. They cooked cuts of beef over the fire. Flames licked the meat, spitting delicious juice that sizzled on the burning logs. A divine aroma filled the air. 

For what it's worth, this was the best meal they had ever had.

Zeus, the king of the gods, found himself disturbed by the lack of sunlight on Olympus. Night had fallen and passed, it was time for the sun to rise and a new day to begin. The hours passed by, but the sun did not rise. His wife, Hera, looked at him with pursed lips, almost as if he were to blame for this situation.

"Why are you looking at me like that?"

"What did you do? Why isn't the sun coming up?"

"I didn't do anything!"

"Go deal with this," Hera commanded.

"We're all getting this information at the same time," Zeus said.

"But you're the king. The sun is the crowned jewel of the sky, your realm. This is your responsibility."

"I agree, my dear," Zeus said as he stood up. "Where would I be without your constant complaints?"

His last line held an undetermined amount of irony, holding both affection and contempt for her. She felt the same way. Hera was in a good mood today; her lip bent into a ghost of a smile. She kissed him goodbye, and Zeus was gone.

Zeus arrived at the edge of space where Helios keeps the sun. With the sun misbehaving, Helios was the first one to correct. Zeus entered with a thunderous boom.

"The sun rises every morning, Helios! Why not today!?"

Helios remained seated on his chariot, sitting down on it instead of standing on it to operate. He looked inappropriately relaxed.

"You're finally here. Good. I was wondering how long it would take to get your attention."

Even in this relaxed and dejected pose, the presence of Helios radiated light. He bore a corona of solar flares atop his head. He looked at Zeus expectantly, his expression filled with frustration.

"What is the meaning of this!? Fine. You have my attention. And then you fly again. Understood?"

"Fine. I need you to punish some mortals that offended me. I can't do so myself. I need lightning precision."

"That's all!? You damned Titan! I can kill an entire city if you need. Get the sun moving, now."

As Helios climbed onto his chariot to prepare, two goddesses appeared.

"Father, wait!" Athena said.

"Athena? What are you doing here?" Zeus asked.

"Heyyyy, Helios... looking radiant as ever!" Aphrodite called out.

"Hi, Aphrodite," Helios replied with a wave.

"We know who you're going to kill. We've come to reason with you."

"Maybe we can make it worth your while..."

"Ugh. Aphrodite, stay on topic! Helios, ignore her. Listen to me, listen to reason. You want to destroy those who killed your cattle. A rational decision, one I would make too. But I implore you... spare those who did no harm to them."

"Bah! Kill all of those who stepped on my island! If they wanted to survive, they would have protected my cattle."

"Helios, please. Odysseus did your cattle no harm."

"Or Astyanax!"

"Or Astyanax. Surely you can see that, right?"

"...fine. Zeus, save the mortals these two are describing. I legitimately cannot tell them apart. Destroy the rest. Once they are dead, the sun will rise again."

"Very well. I'll see it done."

"Thank you, Father. And thank you, Helios."

The four of them nodded at each other, a deal struck and a crisis averted.

"...hey Aphrodite, do you have any plans for the day? How would you like to ride my chariot?"

"Let's do it!"

Odysseus and Astyanax were trying everything in their power to escape the island. Unfortunately, they made slow progress without a crew behind them.

Eurylochus and the others appeared and began to help.

"We need to get away from this island, right?"

"What are you doing here!? Do you have any idea of what you have done!?"

"Will you accept my help or not?"

"Your disloyalty will be punished later. For now, we have a god's wrath to escape."

The crew began to heave the ship into the water. The tide was rising, which helped immensely. Once the ship was floating, they climbed on and began to paddle away as fast as they could. The ragged ship was still damaged after Scylla, but staying on the island was certain death. The ship accelerated into the dark of night.

Hours passed. Their effort remained. The crew had their fill of divine cattle and were well energized. With enough luck, perhaps they could be far enough away to avoid the wrath of the sun.

Darkness remained. The sun failed to rise.

"Captain? What's going on?"

"Eurylochus... you've doomed us."

Before he could answer, a wave of thunder cracked above them. They tried to scream, but no sound could ring past the powerful rumbling. They looked to the sky, a stretch of thunderclouds covering all stars. Flashes of lightning rippled through the sky, the light blinding against the background. Odysseus, Astyanax, Eurylochus, and the rest dropped to their knees. Awe, fright, piety, or simply the force pushing them over, it did not matter. Nothing mattered now. Even from Olympus, the presence of Zeus was unmistakable. 

Odysseus closed his eyes. He saw Penelope. He smiled.

Utter destruction.

Chapter Text

A woman woke up to tropical sunlight shining in her face. She softly exhaled as the sleep left her. She opened her eyes and sat up on bed, complete with a yawn and a stretch. This was the same room she always slept in. A beautiful stone palace bedroom, with extravagant decorations adorning the walls and ceiling. Even the floor was an intricate tile pattern. She looked out the window and looked out to the sea, watching the waves crash over the white-sand beaches. She sighed. Paradise. This was her island: the island Oggyia.

She got out of bed and walked over to her bedroom mirror. "Good morning, Calypso," she said to her reflection. "Time to get ready for the day!" Still rather sleepy, she slowly walked over to her washing area and bath. She drew the water, putting her hand in to test the temperature. Hot and steamy, just the way she liked it. She stripped from her sleeping clothes and stepped into the water.

"Ahhhh..." she happily said as the warm water surrounded her body. The sensation was so pleasant, she relaxed in there for a long time, just sitting still. She was not in a hurry to do anything. She looked at her fingertips and noticed wrinkles forming from the water. 

"Well, I better actually start," she said to herself. The rest of the bath went by smoothly. Once she was finished, she stepped out and covered herself in a towel to dry.

"Time to get dressed," she said. "So many options... what should I pick?" She asked this question as if she expected a response, but she was alone. 

"Let's go with the classic black dress!"

She put it on and started to head to her dining room. Right as she got to the door, she stopped.

"Oh! I almost forgot to update my calendar..."

She walked back to a giant array with cubbies that were organized in several different grids. The majority of cubbies were empty, with the exception of a few that contained a stone inside. She picked up the stone from one and moved it to the cubby directly adjacent. This was some sort of calendar, with this stone she just moved representing a new day. 

"There we go," she said to herself, "we can't forget that! If I wasn't keeping track, no one would. Let's go eat and see what everyone else is up to."

Calypso walked to her dining area, and inside there were nearly a dozen different statues of her. Some were sitting, some were standing, nearly all of them had different poses and expressions. All of them modeled after Calypso herself. 

"Good morning, Calypso," she said to the statues.

"Good morning, Calypso," she answered back in a slightly different tone, as if to speak for the statues.

"Actually, I think you meant to say good afternoon," she said, speaking for another statue that was looking out the window.

"Oh my!" She hurried over to that statue, and she looked up at the sun. "Look how high it is! I must have slept late. Not to mention my bath. I suppose we better have lunch," she giggled.

"Does anyone want anything?" She asked the statues. There was no response. "Okay then, more for me!"

She walked over to some shelves that stored Ambrosia and Nectar. In her way was another statue of Calypso, with its arms stretching up, as if reaching for something on a shelf. She shuffled past the statue. "Excuse me, Calypso," she said. 

"No problem, Calypso," she replied.

She assembled her plate and sat down at the dining table. More statues were sitting in the chairs at the table. Some were positioned to show that they were chatting with each other. A couple had props to make it look like they were eating. One was facing towards her. 

"That looks tasty, Calypso," she said for this statue.

"Thank you Calypso," she replied. 

She ate her meal, looking around at her statues. The space they took up almost made it look like she had company visiting. Almost...

"So, does anyone have plans for today?" she asked the group. There was no response. "Well, I had some ideas. I was thinking of a new art project! Does anyone want to hear about it?" No response again. "Okay, here goes... I want to carve a new statue. A statue of a man!"

"How are you going to find a model of a man?"

"Good question, Calypso! If I am creative, I think I can dress up to look like one. I can make new clothes and wear makeup. I also thought about cutting my hair and wearing binders. At least long enough so I get a good idea of what to carve. Does anyone have any thoughts?" 

She looked around the room. Some statues looked like they were listening to her. Some looked like they were busy with their own things.

"Well, I'm not hearing anyone say 'no', so I'm going to do it! Wish me luck!" She finished her meal, and made her way to her workshop to get started on her idea. 

Calypso's workshop was quite impressive. It contained a variety of materials and tools for measurements, designing, and crafting. Over her life, she had experimented with many different art forms and techniques, including clothesmaking, sculpting, and carving. A perfect set of skills for her new project. Additionally, the mirror in her workshop had the magical ability to "remember" its previous displays, so she could view older reflections as needed. Calypso assembled everything she needed: scissors, makeup, and fabric.

"A man..." she thought out loud to herself. "How do I make myself look like a man? What does a man even look like? Short hair, maybe? No breasts, of course. I can start there, and then experiment with my makeup." 

The only idea of what a man looked like was so long ago, in the Age of the Titans. She couldn't even picture one in her mind, she was just going off of ideas at this point. Calypso looked at herself in the mirror, and held the scissors up to her hair. This was the scary part, she did love her hair.

"Eh, it'll grow back!" Snip. Snip. Snip. Locks of hair fell to her shoulders and the floor. Soon enough, her hair was short enough to stand up on its own. She had plenty of experience cutting her own hair, so she added some flourishes to make it even more stylish.

Next step was makeup. This was definitely the realm of experiment. She didn't know what a man looked like. But she did know what she looked like. So she applied makeup that she thought looked good, but made her look different. It took several attempts, with her trying something then wiping it all off to start from scratch. Eventually, she was finally satisfied with her new face.

"Look at how handsome you look, Calypso!"

She smiled and looked at her new face and hair in the mirror. She twirled around and tried different poses. 

To better model herself to look like her idea of a man, she took a thin strip of stretchy fabric and wrapped it around her chest. Her goal was to bind her breasts as much as possible. While they were not completely hidden, she made a noticeable change.

"I'm finished," she cheered. Calypso spent the next hour trying out different poses and flexing certain muscles, trying to picture how she was going to use this new model of hers. At last, she felt ready to start carving her new statue.

Over the next couple weeks, she spent time carving a new statue out of marble. This was in addition to her normal activities, such as updating her calendar and socializing with her other statues. 

"Wow, look at Calypso's new hair. She cut it short! It looks so good, right Calypso?"

"I don't know, I liked her old hair," she said in place of a snarky looking statue. She gasped.

"How dare you? Good thing nobody asked," she joked. There was no response. 

At last, she finished her statue of a man. "Hello there, handsome. What's your name?"

"Calypso? That's funny, my name is Calypso too! Welcome to my island, Oyggia! Isn't it beautiful here?" She twirled around with her arms extended, as if to show the statue everything. 

"I must say, Calypso. You are quite beautiful," she said in a gruff voice, as if to imitate a man. 

"Oh, Calypso, you flatter me. You're making me blush! If I'm not too forward, I have to say, you're quite handsome." The statue did not reply.

"Oh Calypso, you're shy too. So humble."

She lifted the statue onto a cart, and wheeled it out to the garden. 

"Here you go, Calypso. Have a seat in the garden. Enjoy the flowers."

She smiled and waved goodbye. She walked away, sighing happily, as if she just developed a new crush.

Life was good on Oggyia. The weather was always nice, and the beach was always beautiful. Calypso had plenty of tasks to do, and plenty of time to do them. At the start of each day, she moved her calendar forward. At the end of each day, she looked out at the night sea. She wondered what the future would hold.

Life continued on Oggyia. Calypso enjoyed a life devoid of responsibility or strict schedules. She woke up whenever she wanted, ate whenever she wanted, and made her own deadlines for tasks.

"Good morning, Calypso!" 

"Good morning, Calypso!"

"Anything new to share, anyone?" No response. Calypso frowned. 

Days passed. Weeks passed. Months passed. The days were measured by her hair regrowing, and the calendar she updated every day. Eventually, her hair was back to the length it was before she cut it. 

"What should we do today, Calypso?" She asked a pensive looking statue, leaning up against a wall in a hallway. 

"Classroom? Sure! Maybe I will see you in class," she said to the statue. The statue did not move.

"Well, I suppose our class is mostly full already. I can fill you in later. Bye, Calypso." She sang as she walked to the classroom. She walked past a window to the garden and paused to look at her man-Calypso statue. She gave a flirty little wave and then moved along. The statue did not see her.

She arrived at her classroom and made preparations to teach. She organized her desks in a semicircular orientation so the students could see each other just as well as they could see her. And by students, they were statues. They were placed in a variety of poses to model different kinds of students. Some were poised with erect posture, eager to answer a question. Some had their gaze averted, as if trying to just blend in. Some looked like they were about to fall asleep.

"Okay class, today's lesson is on world history! Can anyone tell me why we want to refresh our history?"

"Oh, I know, I know!" She spoke in an eager voice to mimic the statue in the front.

"Well I know you know, Calypso. But I'm hoping to hear from someone who doesn't talk as much."

She looked around. None of the other statues spoke.

"Okay, Calypso, go ahead."

"Well. Simply put, we review history so we don't forget it."

"Good answer, Calypso! The rest of you, follow her example. Now, let's begin."

She cleared her throat, and began her lesson.

"Long ago, the world as we know it was born out of the union of the Oranos, the Sky, and Gaia, the Earth. The world was ruled by the Titans. The Titans, born from Gaia and Oranos, rose to power and overthrew their parents. The Titan Kronos killed Oranos. We have more stories about what happened to Oranos, but let's stay on topic. Anyway, the Titans Kronos and Rheia became the parents to the gods. However! Kronos feared that his children would overthrow him, just as he overthrew Oranos. So, Kronos decided to eat the gods!" Calypso shuddered.

"Rheia protected one of her children, the god Zeus. With the help of his mother, Zeus was able to grow into a powerful god and battle with Kronos and release his siblings. Thus began a war between the Titans and the Gods. Can someone name a Titan that helped Kronos in the war? Lots of right answers here..."

Calypso looked around the room at the statues of herself, waiting for a student to speak up.

"How about Atlas?"

"Correct! Good job, Calypso."

"Thank you, Calypso."

"Anyway, Atlas had children of his own. One of them was a beautiful daughter named Calypso." Cheers filled the room.

"Alright everyone, calm down. I know we all love Calypso." More cheers.

"Calypso decided to support her father during the war. After a long war, the Titans were defeated and cast away. Atlas was cursed with the burden of holding up the sky. His daughter was banished to an island with no contact with the outside world."

Calypso sighed. "And here we are..."

She looked around the room again.

"That's enough for today. Class dismissed!"

She left on a brisk walk, looking for something to cheer her up. She walked past the garden.

"Calypso, over here!"

She looked out to the statue in the garden. Her man.

"Hello, Calypso! I'm on my way."

She went outside to the garden and sat on the bench near her statue.

"What's wrong, Calypso? You look sad."

"Oh, is it that obvious? We just went over some painful history in class today. A bit of a bad reminder."

She stared at the statue's eyes, trying to find a connection.

"I know what will make you feel better. Meet me back here in the garden, tonight. I want you to watch the stars with me."

Calypso giggled.

"You want us to watch the stars... just the two of us? Of course!"

"Great, I'll see you tonight."

She left with a spring in her step. She excited herself, and could hardly wait for tonight. She spent the next couple hours getting ready. She washed up, wore a nice dress, put her hair up, and even wore some nice perfume. 

Night fell, and she walked out to the garden. Her statue was waiting for her. She slowly walked out to it, gracefully stepping as if she were putting on a performance.

"Hello, Calypso. What are you doing?"

"I was just waiting on the bench here for you. I've been dreaming about our meeting," she said in a gruff voice.

"Oh Calypso, that is so romantic!" She rushed over and sat near the statue. Close enough that their legs were touching.

"I love the way you put your hair up. And look at your dress. You did all of this for me?"

"Oh, this? Thank you for noticing, I'm glad you like it!" She leaned in very close and started cuddling the statue.

"You smell so good. Is that new perfume?"

"It is!"

She sat there cuddling the statue for a few minutes. She slowly traced her hands fingers over the stone muscles of the statue.

"So... what should we do now?" she asked in a flirty voice. The statue did not respond. She climbed on the statue's lap and straddled its legs. She placed both of her hands on the statue's shoulders.

"You want us to kiss? Oh Calypso, yes!"

She closed her eyes and kissed the lips of the statue. They tasted like stone.

"Mmm, mmm," she said and she kissed the statue some more. It was not very exciting, but she tried her best to pretend it was. After a dozen or so kisses, she stopped.

"I have an idea. Let's play a game, Calypso!"

"Okay, what kind of game?"

"A word game! I want you to say something I am NOT thinking."

"Okay. Let me try."

Calypso waited eagerly for the statue to say something original. With every passing minute, her smile faded just a little. She kept waiting and waiting. She kept staring at the statue's face, hoping it would say something. After enough time, she was frowning.

"Just one thing," she said weakly. "Please..."

She waited some more. "Come on, Calypso. I'm waiting..."

Her expression was beyond a frown now. Her whole face was scrunched up, on the verge of tears.

"Say something!" Her voice turned to anger. Hot tears pooled in her eyes.

"Say something! Anything! Just ONE WORD," she screamed at the statue.

In a fit of frustration, she hit the statue with her hands, subconsciously hoping it would react. The statue did not respond.

"Why won't you say anything to me!?"

She hit the statue even harder now, and from a higher angle. She struck with enough force to knock its head off of its neck.

"You know what, good riddance! I don't need you," she screamed at the statue's head, now fallen on the ground. 

She ran out of the garden, tears streaming down her face. She charged through her home with her head in her hands. She found her bedroom and rushed inside, quickly jumping onto the bed face-down. She buried her face in her pillow, crying into it. The fabric became soaked with her tears, and she could feel her face getting wet with the stinging sadness. She kept crying until she fell asleep.

Soon, the sunlight from the next day shone into her room. She groaned. Bad sleep. She shambled out of bed and walked over to her calendar. She moved her day stone one slot. Then she went back to bed.

The next day came. She got out of bed to move her calendar to a single space and got back into bed.

Another day. Wake up, move the calendar, go back to bed. 

Wake up. Move the calendar. Back to bed.

Wake. Calendar. Bed.

Wake. Calendar. Bed.

She repeated this for days. Days became weeks. She didn't feel hungry enough to get out and eat. No need for the bathroom, either. Nothing in, nothing out. She didn't feel like going to the bath, or cleaning herself. Her sense of smell had all adjusted to this same room. What was the point of getting out of bed? There was nothing out there to do. No one to talk to.

Weeks became months. Wake up, move the stone, lay down. The sun came up and the sun went down. Still in bed. Still not hungry. And daughters of Titans can't starve to death. She wasn't sure how many months went by. Perhaps she stayed in bed for years. 

One day, Calypso opened her eyes to the darkness of night. That couldn't be right. She had become acutely aware of how long the day lasted and how long the night lasted. Something was off. The sun wasn't rising when it should have.

"Is this a sign?" She wondered aloud. She looked around the dark room for a few moments, and let her mind think. Her voice was raspy, she had fallen out of practice with speech. 

"Is there someone out there? Did someone see what was happening to me? Does someone care about me!?" 

Her voice was trembling. It was filled with despair and excitement. This was the most emotion she felt in months. She burst into tears. She laughed hysterically. She screamed into the open air. Delirious euphoria washed over her.

She sprang out of bed. She felt so hungry, she felt like she could collapse. Blood rushed to her head, and she felt light headed. 

She shambled over to her pantry and grabbed some food. She didn't even bring it to the table, she just started eating. As soon as she took the first bite, the taste overwhelmed her. She started crying again, this time with tears of joy. This was the best ambrosia she had ever eaten. 

After she was finished eating, she smelled something awful. Something equal parts stale and equal parts rot. She looked around to find the source of this smell, but it followed her wherever she went.

"Is that... me?" Calypso asked.

Still in the dark of night, she went to her bath and cleaned herself. As she washed, she felt as if she was making herself anew. She imagined how it felt to make her statues, chipping away layers and layers of rock. Soon, Calypso emerged from the water a new woman.

The darkness persisted. She took that as a sign that she needed to get her house in order as well. She washed and changed her clothes and sheets. She thoroughly cleaned her room. The other rooms were pretty much the same as she left them, but she cleaned those up too. Eventually, the sun started to rise!

"Thank you," she whispered, weakly. "Thank you..."

With the morning light, Calypso walked out to the beach. She didn't know why, but she felt compelled to go out there. As she walked along the shore, she listened and watched the waves crash. Suddenly, she spotted something strange had washed up on the beach. She sprinted over.

Calypso had found a man and a child washed up on her shore. Both were unconscious. It was the most beautiful man she had ever seen.

Chapter Text

Odysseus felt tropical sunlight shining in his face. He felt its warmth without understanding where it came from. His mind was dormant, most of his senses muted. He seemed to float in peace, feeling nothing but softness. Soon, the sunlight was blocked. Something cast a shadow over him. With his eyes closed and breathing steady, cracked his eyes open. Still half asleep, the first thing he saw was a woman sitting over him. He smiled and yawned happily.

"...Circe? How? Come here..." he mumbled.

With the lethargic bliss of sleep, he stretched his arms out to hug her. She let out an excited yelp of glee and enthusiastically cuddled him. He realized he was in a bed. This was the most comfortable he had been in... years? He had no idea. All he wanted to do was sleep. Be here, for a little while longer. With her.

The two of them laid there. Only Odysseus fell back to sleep. She couldn't, she was too excited. She listened to him breathe, listened to his heartbeat, stared at every feature of his face. He was alive! He was real! He was here! This felt like a miracle; this was everything she wanted. She wanted him to sleep peacefully, so she did not say anything or make any noise. Above all else, she wanted him to be happy.

Hours passed, and Odysseus woke up properly. He felt the woman in his arms, her warmth and his combined together. 

"What's Circe?" The woman asked.

Odysseus opened his eyes properly and his mind came alive. With a mask of sleep, this woman could have been mistaken for Circe, but upon a closer look, he realized a stranger slept next to him. He wriggled out and sat up with a jolt. He scooted away from whoever this was with a look of confusion and embarrassment on his face.

"Oh my... sorry! Fuck! Oh, fuck. Sorry! Who are you!? Where am I?"

The woman matched his energy, both in terms of disturbance and confusion. She recoiled at his reaction to her. The sight of her had caused him so much anguish. She felt worthless. All she wanted was for him to smile and hold her again, but he was acting like she was a stranger. A frown grew on her face. Tears welled up behind her eyes, not quite ready to come out.

"Wha- what's... what's wrong with me...?" She blubbered out.

Odysseus was even more confused now. He had so many questions, but the sight of this woman gave him a pang of pity. He would get his answers soon enough. He scooted closer to her and soothed her.

"Hey, hey, hey," he said softly. "You're okay. You're okay. I was just confused, that's all." 

As he touched her back to provide comfort, he noticed how much she leaned into his touch. It was as though she were nuzzling his arm with her back, not the other way around. Her expression rapidly shifted, almost frighteningly so.

"Oh, thank you! Thank you! I've been waiting so long for you! You and the child washed up on the beach days ago, and I've been nursing you back to health. I was wondering if you would ever wake up."

She began to laugh, which grew into an unnervingly happy cackle. Odysseus ignored this for now; the mention of the child was enough to get his attention. For a moment, he had forgotten Astyanax!

"The child!? Is he alright? Where is he?"

The woman continued to cackle with glee. "He's okay! I've been watching over him too. I didn't want you rolling over and crushing him, ahahahaaaa!"

"Take me to him, then."

"Follow me!"

The strange woman sprang out of the bed and ran out of the room. He climbed out of the bed to try to catch up. He immediately started gathering information about his surroundings. This was an island palace, much like Circe's. But he was already noticing many differences. He tucked that information away and followed her out of the room.

"Ah!" Odysseus exclaimed. A lifelike statue was leaning up against the wall looking at its hands. 

"Oh, that! Yes, I made that statue. Her name is Calypso! Do you like it?"

Odysseus paused. The statue had been a surprise in how lifelike it appeared. But it was quite beautiful. Nevertheless, it was a strange sight to see.

"I... I do like it, I suppose. It's very pretty. By the way, I don't think you told me your name."

"Thank you! I'm Calypso," she said cheerfully.

"Wait. You're Calypso. And the statue's Calypso?"

"Yep!"

"Hmmm. Well, lead on, Calypso."

Odysseus followed Calypso through the corridor to another bedroom. He was surprised by yet another statue. This one was not posing in action, it had recently been moved.

"You'll have to excuse her, this used to be Calypso's room," Calypso explained.

Odysseus nodded, mostly to appear understanding instead of actually understanding. "I'm guessing this statue is named Calypso, too?"

"Correct! By the way, what's your name?"

Odysseus considered how he should respond. With Polyphemus and Circe, he started off with a fake name. But this Calypso seemed friendly enough, although a bit strange. He had been unconscious for days and she hadn't harmed him, she had earned some sort of trust.

"I'm Odysseus. The boy is Astyanax."

"Odysseus..." she said, her voice dripping with desire. Almost to the point of a moan. He frowned; she was being weird.

At last, Calypso pointed out the bed where Astyanax was sleeping. He was sleeping soundly and was in great condition. Any weird feelings Odysseus had towards Calypso melted away. She had taken amazing care of Astyanax while he couldn't.

"Calypso... thank you. You don't know either one of us, but you offered your help anyway. I'm grateful."

Calypso beamed with pride and began to wiggle with excitement. Had they been closer friends, this quirk might have been endearing. But this was just another example of her not behaving normally. Odysseus logged that in his mind. 

"Of course! Can I... hug you?"

Odysseus shrugged and accepted. She ran over and wrapped her arms around him. Their embrace was awkward, as if Calypso was trying too hard to hug him all at once. He hated to make the comparison, but the last woman he hugged was Circe, who was enchanting. On the other hand, he couldn't help but feel some sort of sympathy for Calypso.

"I would do anything for you, Odysseus," she murmured. "I love you."

At these words, Odysseus quickly broke away. He bore a look of disgust and discomfort.

Calypso's frown grew as quickly as Odysseus had broken away. She didn't hold any of her feelings back. She began to cry.

"You- you- you mean you don't- you don't love me back?" Calypso sobbed.

Odysseus grimaced. Who was this woman? Seeing her cry like this felt... wrong. But so did indulging any fantasies she had about him. They had just met. What was wrong with her? Maybe if he could change the subject, he could cheer her up and avoid this topic at the same time.

"Calypso, we just met. How about you tell me about yourself? I want to get to know you."

Calypso sniffed and stopped crying. She managed a hopeful smile as she looked up at him. 

"What do you want to know?"

"Well... who are you? To start, I guess."

She held her chin in thought. "Who am I... Who? Am? I? I... I. I don't know. Nobody's ever asked me that before."

Odysseus raised his eyebrows in disbelief. 

"Where are you from? Who is your family?"

Calypso frowned. The question unearthed some sadness. "I... don't really have a family. I'm alone. I've been alone. My whole life, alone. I'm alone. Alone. I'm alone. I'm alone..."

Without thinking, she began to repeat this mantra to herself over and over. Tears were welling up again. Her voice started to break as she kept repeating herself. Alone. Alone. Calypso started to cry again. Alone. Alone.

Odysseus might have cursed in frustration, but he worried that Calypso would have been more upset. "Hey... are you hungry? I know I am. Maybe we could go eat together. You, me, and the prince."

Calypso kept crying, this time tears of joy. "I, I, I... would love... that," she blubbered out. She scurried out of the room. 

Odysseus gently woke up Astyanax, grateful for a few moments away from Calypso. He felt like every word he said to her was wrong somehow. She had no idea how to talk to people, that was certain. 

Astyanax yawned and stretched his arms as he woke up. Odysseus smiled, delighted to see the young prince healthy and safe. Both were still frazzled by their journey, but at least they had each other.

"Ody," Astyanax yawned.

"Good morning, little prince! Let's get you something to eat."

Odysseus felt his stomach rumble at the thought. He tried to remember the last thing he ate, but could not. He could hardly remember anything. The memories would return with the rest of his senses. For now, food.

Calypso returned, carrying a comical amount of food with her. She dropped it on a table in the room, it spewed and rolled haphazardly.

"Here! I wasn't sure how hungry you were, so I brought a lot," Calypso said.

Odysseus caught a container that rolled off. "Good idea."

They sat down together and began to eat. With full mouths, there was not much to talk about. Calypso paid no attention to her table manners, of course, and talked with her food in her mouth.

"So," she said between bites, "the food of the gods is transient in nature. Much like the gods themselves..." she chewed loudly and swallowed. She took another bite before continuing. "...for example, we're eating what looks like mortal food." More chewing. "Like, all of this meat and cheese and bread and stuff? This is all actually ambrosia that has been transformed by subconscious belief to be something edible for you. As we all know, mortals cannot eat actual ambrosia."

Odysseus raised his eyebrows in surprise. Unlike Calypso, he swallowed before speaking.

"Food of the gods!? Calypso, what? Are you...?"

"A goddess? I think so? Whatever you people call the daughter of Titans."

Odysseus felt his jaw drop. Surprise advanced to shock. "Which Titan?"

Calypso sighed sadly. "Atlas."

It was all coming together. With Atlas as her father, it became clear why she didn't have a family. He dared not press further at risk of more tears.

"Well," Odysseus said as he cleared his throat. "You handle your divinity with grace, being so generous like this. You've invited us into your home, took care of us, and fed us. Once again, I thank you."

Calypso lunged over the table to give him another hug. She bumped and clattered over the table as if were not there, knocking the contents to the floor. She did not care. Her arms wrapped awkwardly around Odysseus, an incomplete embrace. He did not reciprocate.

"Oh, thank you, thank you! You're so nice to me. I'm so glad I'm not alone anymore."

"Calypso?"

"Yes?"

"Did any other sailors wash up on your island? I realize I haven't seen any of my men here."

"Oh? I'm sorry, I haven't. Do you remember what happened?"

At this mention, the memories flooded back. The cattle. The island. The escape. The stormclouds. The lightning. Odysseus collapsed in grief, breaking away from Calypso.

"My men..."

Calypso couldn't understand what was going on, what he went through. She just stared at him, like a specimen. Odysseus began to weep. She watched the way his body shuddered as he sobbed. Seeing him like this made her heart hurt, but at the same time, she loved seeing him like this. He was so... human. He was here. She was here. They were together.

Calypso had so much to show them, so much to share with them. After the meal, Odysseus and Astyanax followed her as she gave them a tour of her domain. It was eerie in its emptiness, grand spaces filled only with furniture and statues. 

"Hello, Calypso!"

"Hello to you too, Calypso!"

"Wow! Who are these new guests, Calypso?"

"Odysseus and Astyanax! I found them washed up on the shore. We're going to take good care of them, won't we, Calypso?"

Odysseus grimaced at this little skit. Calypso was talking to her statues as if they were alive. She was even doing different voices for them. Even Astyanax was disturbed. He hid behind Odysseus, trying to find a barrier between him and Calypso. Calypso was oblivious to both of them, unable to realize that any of her behavior may be considered strange.

The tour wrapped around to where they started: the bedrooms. Good timing, as it was getting late. Astyanax, in particular, was exhausted.

"Here you are, Astyanax. Are you ready for bed?" Calypso sang. She lifted him up and placed him in a bed that was much larger than him. "You'll grow into it, won't you?"

Astyanax drifted to sleep as Calypso lovingly attended him. The prince was comfortable here, despite the handful of awkward interactions with Calypso. Perhaps his time with Circe's nymphs had prepared him for this. Calypso laid next to him propped up on her elbow as he fell asleep. She smiled, her heart full of hope and joy. Odysseus dismissed himself.

"Well, I should be headed to bed soon too. Same place as I woke up this morning, right? I'll be seeing yo-"

"Wait! Um, actually. You can't sleep in there. I. Um. Just follow me!"

Calypso led Odysseus to her bedroom. He immediately noticed a giant stone calendar, her bed, and a pleasant breeze from the open window.

"So... maybe you could sleep in here tonight," Calypso purred. 

Odysseus grimaced. Her desperation was offputting, as were so many of her other qualities. But behind that desperation was a genuine eagerness. He tried to navigate this situation carefully, wanting to stay in her good graces but not in her affection.

"I shouldn't. It's... been a long journey, and a long day. I should just rest, don't you agree?"

"Oh," Calypso failed to hide her disappointment. "I suppose you're right. I do want you to be well-rested."

With that, she ran past him to go set his room. By the time she caught up to her, she was already on his bed. Calypso darted around getting the bedding prepared for him.

"There we go! You're going to love it here!"

Odysseus managed a polite smile. "Thank you, Calypso. We appreciate your generosity."

He climbed into bed while she waited in the room. He closed his eyes and expected her to leave. She did not. Time seemed to creep forward slowly. He could feel her presence in the room. Not dangerous, just... there. 

"Calypso?"

"Yes!?"

"Can you give me some privacy? I'd like to go to sleep now."

"Would me leaving make you happy?"

How was he supposed to answer that? If he was truthful, her feelings might be hurt. And he dare not provoke her wrath. But he did want her to leave.

"Calypso, I... I'll be dreaming of you while you're gone."

She buzzed with excitement and danced out of the room. At last, he was left in peace. Finally.

Odysseus sighed with rest and relief. The pains of his journey were behind him, at last. He and Astyanax were safe here. And despite Calypso's strange personality, she aided them freely. 

Odysseus smiled as he fell asleep.

Chapter Text

Beauty does not guarantee attraction. If it did, Odysseus would have embraced Calypso as a lover at her first request. She was beautiful, with many features any mortal would lust over, man or woman. Her face was fair, her eyes filled with the depth of the sea. Her long and healthy hair shone in the tropical sun. It fell over her body gracefully, a few locks styled to stand out and complement her. Her body was just as stunning as her face. Every move she made, every look she gave, every word she spoke, her intentions were clear. She was in love.

If he wanted to, Odysseus could have accepted any of Calypso's frequent invitations to her bed. But there was something missing here, some intangible attraction. Her eagerness reeked of desperation. On top of that, her composure seemed to be quite fragile, with her pleasant demeanor shattering into tears at the slightest inconvenience. But at the same time, she bent over herself to be as kind and welcoming as possible. His feelings for her were... complicated.

"Good morning, Odysseus," she purred as he woke up.

Odysseus opened his eyes to reveal Calypso kneeling next to him. This had been going on for weeks. He was convinced that she adjusted her sleep schedule to always be there when he woke up. All she did was kneel near him, as if all it took for him to fall for her was to see her enough times.

"Hrrmmm," he grumbled with a yawn. "Calypso."

"Do you want to cuddle again? Like we did when you first woke up here?"

He turned away. "Actually, I was planning on getting out of bed."

"Oh? Me too! I'll come with!"

He climbed out of bed. Calypso followed him.

He made his way over to one of her many bathrooms with the intention of bathing. Calypso followed him.

"Hey. I'm going to take a bath now. So... can I have some privacy?"

"Oh! We could bathe together, if you want. I've actually been meaning to take a bath too."

"You can go first then, I'll come back later."

"Really? You know what? I just changed my mind. I'm not in the mood for a bath."

"In that case, maybe I will. I'll meet you and Astyanax in the dining room afterwards."

Calypso pretended to sniff herself. "On second thought, maybe I do need a bath. Let's take one together!"

Calypso had a goofy grin on her face, while Odysseus could barely hide his annoyance. He sighed. "Are you going to just change your answer based on whatever I say?"

"Yep!"

"Fine. You can join me, if that will get you to stop bothering me."

Calypso's grin vanished quickly. Her new expression was one of insecurity. "You think I'm bothering you?"

Odysseus bent his eyebrows in exasperation. "What? I... just. Ugh. I'm getting in the bath."

"Me too!"

"Fine."

Calypso took her clothes off quickly, excited to get the bath started. Although Odysseus was annoyed with her, he couldn't help but admire how she looked. He snapped his gaze away, not allowing himself to get drawn in. He disrobed and entered the bath after her.

"Ahhhh," Odysseus said as he sank into the warm water. This was a luxury he would always appreciate. Years at sea and war made baths like these a rarity. The rudimentary hygiene practices he performed on the ship were nothing compared to a nice, warm, bath. His mood improved in every way. Even Calypso couldn't bother him here. He laid his head back, closed his eyes, and smiled.

Calypso sat in the water with him, starstruck. She became so excited it looped back into silent buzzing. Odysseus may have followed polite etiquette when it came to staring, but Calypso didn't. If there was something she wanted to look at, she looked at it. And she wanted to look at Odysseus. She did nothing more, she just looked.

He sat up and began actively bathing. He noticed that Calypso was staring at him. Before the bath, this would have been annoying. But this water helped wash away any frustration he had with her. Perhaps the hot water melted away some of his inhibitions. Odysseus felt the tiniest tinge in his core. He was enjoying himself. He was enjoying himself with Calypso, maybe just a little.

The two of them washed themselves. This bath was big enough for each of them to have their own space. The sound of water scrubbing, splashing, and rinsing was welcome to fill the silence.

"Odysseus?"

"Yeah?"

"Will you make love to me tonight?"

"Calypso! You can't just ask people that."

"Why not?"

"It's personal."

"Well, why can't we be personal with each other?"

Calypso simply shared her truth and suffered every consequence. Odysseus was so aware, so cunning, he had so many thoughts prepared for every situation. They were so different.

"I suppose I can give you a hint, Calypso..."

"Yes!?

"Let's just say: I have plans for us."

"Plans? Tell me!"

He smiled and looked away. "No."

Calypso threw her hands up, splashing him in play-frustration. That seemed to end the conversation. Shortly after, the bath ended. They climbed out at the same time.

Odysseus took another peek at her. The water dripped off her body in a very pleasing way. Calypso was not as subtle. For a moment, their eyes met. As quickly as he looked, he looked away. She stood naked in front of him, forcing his attention.

"Will you tell me your plan now?"

"Errrhm..."

She approached him. He stood still. She embraced him. Awkwardly. Her arms bumped into his, and she didn't apply any other part of her body into the hug. Despite this, a beautiful naked woman hugged him. His body reacted accordingly.

"How about now?"

Odysseus chuckled. "You're quite persistent, Calypso."

"Tell me your plan, Odysseus."

The hug reminded him of Circe, in a way. In the way that it was the opposite of his hug with her. With Circe, they matched together so well. With Calypso, things felt forced. He missed Circe. He formed a plan.

"Fine. You know of the dress I had with me when I landed here? The black one?"

"I do. I thought it was a little strange that a man like you had a dress like that."

"Do you have something like that?"

"I do," Calypso said excitedly. "I have so many clothes! I went through a clothesmaking phase that lasted several years. Quite the hobby! Maybe I should get back into it-"

"Perfect. Wear it tonight. I want to see how you look in the firelight."

"What then!?"

"I'll come over," he whispered.

A chill ran down her body. Calypso buzzed with excitement. She broke off the hug and went to get dressed.

Calypso and Odysseus spent the rest of the day apart. Odysseus dismissed himself to take care of Astyanax. Calypso wanted to get herself ready for her special evening. She made her way to the walk-in closet where her dress was. There were a couple of statues in there to keep her company.

"Oh, Calypso! It's finally happening, it's finally happening! Oh, it's going to be so romantic. I can hardly wait," she sang to the statues.

"You're going to be so pretty; I just know he's going to love this dress."

"Thank you!"

"You look gorgeous, Calypso!"

"You two are so nice! Thanks for helping me get ready."

Calypso left, the statues stayed behind.

The sun dipped below the horizon, night fell. Odysseus set Astyanax to sleep, then crept through the torchlit hallways of the palace to Calypso's bedroom. She was waiting for him.

She stood centered in the room. She wore her black dress, one leg presented proudly through the slit at the bottom. Soft light flickered over her bare skin.

Odysseus wore nothing, covering himself with his hand. He held the balled-up dress from Circe, functioning as a sort of loin cloth. Odysseus held up his hand to create a frame for his vision. He covered his view of Calypso's face, showing only her body and the familiar black dress.

"You look... so... good."

"Thanks! But what are you doing with your hand?"

"I'm just admiring your dress," Odysseus lied. "Let's go to the bed."

Calypso dashed to the bed and pounced onto it, dropping any sort of sultry seduction she might have been trying to cultivate. She was too excited to wait. She bounced up and down on the bed.

"Oh, lover! Kiss me now, lover. Kiss me!"

Odysseus approached and laid on the bed. He moved with diligence, as though every step was needed to execute his plan.

"No... I don't think we should..."

"Why not!?"

He grinned. "Why don't we just get started, right? Why waste our time with kissing?"

Calypso's suspended despair was remedied by his explanation. "Oh, you scoundrel! Yes, let's get started."

Calypso climbed on top of him, straddling his thighs as he sat up slightly. He looked up, looking at everything but her face. He marveled at how she filled the black dress. It reminded him of-

"Calypso, start playing with yourself. I want to hear you moan."

She slipped her hand in the slit of the dress. Calypso found her clit immediately and began to rub it. In her countless years of solitude, she knew exactly what to do to pleasure herself. But pleasuring herself for an audience was something even better. She knew that he was building up to something. Lust burned in her core. Touching herself served as flashes of wind to the fire sparking inside her.

"Oh, Odysseus, ohhh! Oh yes!"

"Can you change your pitch, Calypso?"

"Oh, ohhh- what?" She stopped rubbing, caught off guard by this strange question. "What do you mean?"

He stared forward at her crotch, not her eyes. "I've noticed you do a lot of different voices for your statues. Can you try moaning in different voices?"

She frowned. "You don't like my natural moan?"

"No, it's just that... it's part of my plan, okay? I don't want to reveal it all, I want you to experience it throughout the night."

She frown faded. "Okay... if you say so. I can try..."

She began to play with herself again. She felt much more observed now, her pleasure more stiff. It arrived slowly, but it did arrive.

"Ohhhh," Calypso moaned.

"Lower."

"Ooohh," she moaned again, her pitch deepening.

"Too far."

"Oohhh," she moaned, trying to focus and masturbate at the same time.

"Yes, that's it. Moan again like that for me."

"Oohhh, yesss. Yess, Odysseus!"

"Keep going. You're making me so hard like this."

Every word from him was like drops of oil hitting a fire. Any awkwardness she felt from his requests burned away. She wanted more.

"Fuck me now!"

Odysseus grabbed her hips that were hovering over him. Calypso still wore the dress, but there was nothing underneath. He guided her over his hard cock. With his hands around her, she lined up, feeling the tip of his cock brush against her. She needed to feel it all. She slowly sank, his cock smoothly sliding inside her.

"Ohhhhhh," they moaned in unison.

Calypso began to bob up and down. She craved him, craved to hear him moan again, craved to feel him fill her completely.

Odysseus threw his head back in pleasure. He closed his eyes. The dress. He took Circe's balled-up dress and brought it to his face. He smothered himself with the black cloth as Calypso continued.

"Oh! Oh! Oh! Yes," he moaned. With every word came another breath. Another inhale.

The clever witch Circe had put some sort of enchantment on her dress before she gave it to him. Even after all this time, it still smelled like her. With every breath he took, he drank Circe's scent.

"Oohhhh," Calypso and Odysseus moaned together. Their minds were in completely different places, but their bodies came together.

Odysseus thought back to all of the conversations he had with Circe behind their shared wall. He memorized what her moans sounded like. With his instruction, Calypso was able to mimic Circe's moans. Close enough, at least.

Calypso kept riding him, every movement bringing her closer and closer to climax.

Odysseus thought back to how Circe looked during his time with her. He remembered her flirty smiles, her witty remarks, and how sexy she looked in her black dress. He thought about how much he wanted to grab Circe's leg and run his hand higher and higher. He imagined how it would feel to have Circe riding him, to feel her extract as much pleasure from him as possible.

"Odysseus, yes! Yes yes y- oh! Oh, oh, I'm going to cummmmm!"

Calypso began to shake in sheer ecstasy. This orgasm reached new heights compared to her masturbation. This was shared, this was passion. Her muscles clenched and flexed as the climax rippled through her body. His cock was still inside her, and she squeezed it as she came. The feeling was perfect.

"Oohhhh Circe, Circeeee, Circe!" Odysseus moaned as Calypso tightened around him. The sound of Circe's orgasm seared in his mind, a memory of her masturbating behind their shared wall. "I'm going to cum!"

With his last shred of sanity, Odysseus pulled his cock out from under Calypso. Some part of him reminded him that a new child was the last thing he needed. It could not have happened a moment later, as he came immediately after.

"Ohhmmm, mmmm," they moaned together as they continued to grind against each other. His cock slid across her vulva with ease, drenched in a combination of his cum and her dripping vagina. They slowed their pace in tandem. Calypso continued to rock slower and slower. Their orgasms faded slowly, like charcoals smoldering at the end of a night.

Odysseus moved Circe's dress from his face and opened his eyes. Calypso. Not Circe. He looked up at her. As the intensity of the orgasm faded, his fantasy crumbled.

"Sooooo, what's Circe? You said the same thing when you first woke up."

"Oh. It's um... she- I mean, it- It's a term for... um. It's like an exclamation, something to say in times like this," Odysseus lied.

Their eyes met. Dim torchlight flickered in the room, soft light danced on her skin. Despite being in the same place, their feelings were reflections of each other. Where Calypso looked down at him with love and affection, Odysseus looked up at her with guilt and pity. As the intensity of the orgasm faded, clarity entered his mind. He had manipulated Calypso to recreate a fantasy of Circe. Deceiving his enemies was necessary, practical. Lying to Calypso could spurn her and lead to his ruin. The risk was not worth the benefit, and he cursed himself for letting his lust think for him.

"Odysseus? What are you thinking about?" She looked at him with confusion, tilting her head and raising an eyebrow.

He forced a smile. "Was that... good for you? You enjoyed yourself, right Calypso?"

She leaned down to kiss him again. Her teeth bumped against his; Calypso did not manage to salvage the kiss. She sat up again and gave him a crooked smile.

"You heard me cum, right?" Calypso laughed.

He smiled with relief. "I liked it, too. Next time, my plan won't be so... specific. Let's have things progress naturally for the rest of my stay here. Now, let's sleep."

She laid down next to him, unbothered by cleanup. That would be a problem for tomorrow. Calypso embraced him tightly; she had no idea what a natural cuddle felt like. She clenched her hands on random parts of his body, a hand gripping his hair and the other gripping his belly. Her grasp pinched, but Odysseus did not mind.

As Calypso fell asleep, her grip loosened. She breathed peacefully. Odysseus half-hoped that she would snore just like Circe did, but she did not. He realized that it was time to stop comparing Circe and Calypso. He admired them both in their own way.

Admired? He smiled. Odysseus stopped fighting the feeling. He had grown fond of Calypso.

Chapter Text

Calypso had opened her home to Odysseus and Astyanax. The days were peaceful. The mortal guests had all of their needs attended, a welcome sanctuary from their hostile journey. They had been there for several months, each day marked by Calypso's dedicated calendar.

His visits to her bedroom followed were relatively frequent, but most of the time Odysseus slept in his own room. While Calypso would prefer him to be at her side at all times, she accepted this arrangement of theirs cheerfully. There were occasions where Odysseus would initiate acts of romance, which was a stark contrast to the dynamic they had when he first arrived. 

Despite nearly a year spent together, neither one had truly communicated their plan for the future. If they had, perhaps it would have quelled their pleasant feelings for each other.

Odysseus worked in Calypso's workshop, cutting logs and hammering them together. He had everything he needed to build a new ship to resume his journey home, after the previous one had been destroyed by Zeus. His new project was closer to a raft than a ship, but soon it would be seaworthy. 

Astyanax had grown into a proper boy. Neither one of them knew his true age; Astyanax was too young to remember the passage of time with his birth parents, and Odysseus had no idea when he was born. Despite not having an exact known age, Astyanax was old enough to run, play, and begin learning more about the world. 

"Will you go fetch me that hammer, little prince? This piece just won't fit, I need to give it a little bash to make it work."

"Sure thing, Ody! Can I try?"

"You know what? Sure. Give it a go!"

Astyanax approached with the hammer. It looked massive in comparison to his tiny hand. He swung the hammer at the wood, trying to get it to fit tightly with the other planks. He hammered the wood over and over but found little success.

"Ugh, this isn't working!"

"Whoa there, little prince. You've only just started. You just need a little practice, that's all. Here, I'll take care of this plank. But you stick around, I'll need your help again soon."

Astyanax nodded and handed over the hammer. Odysseus hit the wood in the exact right place and with the exact right force. One more plank complete. One fewer required to get home.

Calypso entered.

"Oh, you're in here. How wonderful! I've been looking everywhere for you two. Do you want anything? A snack, maybe? A drink?"

"We're just about finished up for the day, actually. We appreciate it though, don't we, Astyanax?"