Chapter Text
Age 9.
Anticlea’s incoherent sobs and pleas to her convulsing husband rang from the dining room. A maid ran in and put a pillow under his head while a guard restrained the queen from trying to hold him.
Eurycleia took the children out to the courtyard with their food and drink so they didn’t have to watch. “It’s such a lovely day to eat outside, yes?”
Odysseus didn’t think so.
“One day, Zeus had an enormous headache, and ordered Hephaestus to cleave his head open with a labrys,” Laertes said. He was sitting down on Ctimene’s bed while he told his children the story.
One day, Laertes had an enormous headache, and he couldn’t focus on anything. Odysseus, who was seven at the time, watched as his father, the king, his father, the Argonaut, his father, who helped Atalanta slay the Calydonian boar, started stumbling when he walked.
He once yelled at Ctimene for accidentally spilling his wine—something he would never do.
“I wish that you were never born!” He snapped, and she burst into tears. Anticlea started screaming at him, Laertes started screaming at her.
Odysseus wanted to cry, but Ctimene was crying. He needed to be strong for her. Staring at his bowl of chickpeas and cheese, Odysseus suddenly found himself disinterested in the meal.
“Come on, Ctimene. Don’t let any guards catch us,” he said, standing up and taking his sister’s hand. “Bring your food.”
“Where are we going?” She asked, wiping her eyes.
“To the temple of Apollo,” he told her. She nodded.
Laertes picked Ctimene up and sat her down on his lap. Odysseus watched his father continue his story. “When his head was opened, the goddess Athena leaped out of his skull in battle armor, her spear in hand, screaming a war cry.”
“Woah!” Five year old Odysseus gasped at the image in his mind. “That’s so cool!”
Ctimene giggled, wrapping her arms around her father’s neck while she stood on his legs. “She has a spear!”
“Mhm,” Laertes let his daughter cling to him even though it was probably uncomfortable. “She does! Athena’s mother was Metis, who was wisdom itself. Zeus’ mother Gaia told him that the pregnant Metis’ child would be wiser than he, so Zeus turned her into a fly and swallowed her whole, and Metis became one with him and whispered to him all of her wisdom. And thus, Zeus became the god of wisdom.”
“No!” Ctimene cried. “He hurt her?”
Odysseus frowned. “Isn’t that what his father did to him?”
Laertes sighed sadly. “Yes, son.”
“Zeus is a meanie,” Ctimene huffed.
Odysseus gasped in horror, silently praying that Zeus didn’t smite them. “Ctimene! He’s the King of the Gods, the Lord of Olympus, you can’t say that!”
“She’s three years old, she doesn’t know what she’s saying,” Laertes lightly chastised his son, then turned to his daughter. “Don’t say that, he might hear you. Just think it inside of your head.”
Ctimene nodded.
“Hera, as the goddess of motherhood and family, rejoiced when she embraced her stepdaughter, and loved her as if she were her own. Athena was the wisest of all the gods, and humanity has prayed to her for guidance in all things from battle to art and philosophy,” Laertes said. “During the Giant War, she fought a giant named Pallas who tried to…” he looked down at his three year old daughter and over to his five year old son. “Um, kiss her without her permission.”
“Ew!” Ctimene gagged.
Odysseus gasped in outrage at the idea. “No!”
“Athena ensured Pallas paid dearly for his crimes,” Laertes grinned wickedly. “After she slayed him, she flayed his skin and fashioned it into her Aegis. She took his name, becoming Pallas Athena, as a symbol of her strength.”
Odysseus thought that made her even cooler.
“She gave the hero Perseus a mirror shield to help him defeat Medusa, a gorgon,” Laertes said. Odysseus remembered this story. “Perseus used the shield so he wouldn’t need to look directly at her while they fought.”
He thought that Athena might be the most incredible, badass goddess ever.
“What’s a gorgon?” Ctimene asked.
“The three daughters of Phorcys and Ceto who had snakes for hair, Stheno, Euryale, and Medusa. They were mortal, but could turn men to stone by looking in their eyes,” Laertes moved his daughter, picking her up to hold in his arms. “Perseus was tasked with the impossible quest of killing Medusa, and Athena helped him succeed.”
“That’s so scary,” Ctimene whispered. “Can they turn me to stone?”
“Don’t worry, I’ll keep you safe,” Laertes tucked his daughter into bed and kissed her on the forehead.
Odysseus had the best dad ever, so this was killing him.
Lyre music played in the temple when they snuck in. Dozens of people were already there, presenting offerings or asking the priest to interpret omens.
The children stared at the giant, painted statue of the god. They waited their turns, washed their hands in the water to cleanse themselves, and then Odysseus pulled out his cup of grape juice.
He walked over to the basin where libations were made and poured the juice in, the same way he watched his father pour libations of wine.
“I pray to Apollo the Healer, great god of medicine and illnesses,” Odysseus prayed while his little sister scraped the remains of their plates into the flames. “We pour this, um, grape juice and burn these chickpeas as a sacrifice,” it wasn’t much, he didn’t know if Apollo would like it, but he had to do something. “Sorry, we already ate the meat. Please hear our prayer and heal our sick father. We don’t know what’s wrong with him, but we know he’s sick. Please help him.”
Ctimene wiped away her tears, and Odysseus grabbed her hand, pulling her away. She squeezed his hand, and he squeezed it back.
They were walking towards the entrance of the temple when they heard their mother’s voice.
“Odysseus! Ctimene!” They froze knowing that they had been caught.
Anticlea was walking with a guard, a blue himation intricately embroidered with gold draped over her yellow peplos. A sheer veil was wrapped around her bun, a golden headband and some loose curls framing her face. She was the perfect picture of a queen.
“What are you doing here?” Anticlea asked. “You don’t have any guards! Someone could’ve grabbed you!”
“We were praying for Dad,” Ctimene sniffed and wiped her eyes. Anticlea sighed and pulled her daughter into a hug, and the girl buried her face in her neck.
“Your father is going to be alright,” she said while stroking Ctimene’s hair, and Odysseus knew she was lying.
Anticlea decided that they needed to get out of the palace, taking a trip to the island Same nearby to visit friends. The boat ride was rather short, only about an hour and a half, and Anticlea held both of their hands while they walked through the agora and past the temples of the gods.
Anticlea quickly bought a set of beautifully designed dolls, one that resembled a boy and one that resembled a girl (Odysseus thought they were supposed to be a couple) for Ctimene and a wooden horse that moved on wheels for Odysseus. He could tell that she was trying to distract them from whatever was wrong.
After buying their toys, Anticlea dragged them to her friend Halie’s home. Odysseus was excited to see his own friend, her son Eurylochus.
They were in the courtyard together, Hallie holding a scroll while Eurylochus awkwardly sounded out words. Then she noticed the royal family approaching with a guard and they both stood up.
Eurylochus smiled and waved at him. Odysseus waved back.
“Anticlea, I wasn’t expecting you today!” Hallie smiled. Anticlea forced a half smile.
Hallie frowned and pulled Anticlea off to the side. They started talking about something but Odysseus couldn’t hear.
“Hey Eurylochus,” Odysseus said and showed him his new wooden horse toy. “Look what my mom bought me.”
“Oh cool!” Eurylochus grinned. “It’s like a war horse.”
Odysseus sat on the ground and started rolling it back and forth on its wheels.
Eurylochus suddenly started watching Ctimene laying on the ground, holding her dolls. Odysseus turned to watch her too.
“‘—and I’m a better hunter than you are, Artemis!’” Ctimene made her boy doll say in a deep voice. Eurylochus started walking towards her and Odysseus got worried.
Ctimene didn’t notice, continuing to reenact one of the many stories their father told them. She picked up the girl doll and started speaking in a softer voice. “‘No you’re not! I’m the goddess of hunting! No one is better than me.’”
She picked up the boy doll and made it pretend to shoot invisible animals with an imaginary bow, making little sounds with her mouth. “‘See? Look at all the animals I can kill—! Oh no a snake, don’t bite me ahhhh!!’”
Ctimene made the boy doll flail around and then die dramatically, then she made the girl doll kick him. “‘Haha, that was my snake! Serves you right, Orion! I’m gonna put you in the stars where you’ll never be able to hunt again!’”
Eurylochus then grabbed her boy doll and wrestled it away from her. Ctimene shot up and tried tugging it away, but because she didn’t want to break it he easily got it away from her.
“‘Haha, now I’m in the sky where I can shoot all the animals!’” Eurylochus said, then started making the doll fly around and shoot at random imaginary animals. Odysseus cringed, feeling bad for his sister.
“Stop it!” Ctimene screamed, causing the children’s mothers to turn their heads. “Give it back!”
“‘I really am the best hunter in the world!’” He laughed maniacally. “‘I’m gonna hunt every single animal now!’”
Odysseus stood up and walked over to his friend. “Give my sister her doll back.”
Ctimene huffed in embarrassment, but walked behind her older brother for protection. Eurylochus looked confused.
“Eurylochus!” Halie stormed over. “Are you bullying the princess of Ithaca?!”
“No,” he told his mother. “I’m just playing with her.”
Halie snatched the doll away from him and gave it back to Ctimene.
“Don’t you dare do that again,” Halie glared at him.
Eurylochus glared at Ctimene while she stuck her tongue out at him.
“You’re so mean, no girl will ever love you,” she told him. “You’ll never get married.”
“You’ll never get married,” he snapped back.
She huffed and took her dolls away to finish her story.
“Why are you so mean to my sister?” Odysseus asked. “Stop doing that.”
“I wasn’t trying to be mean,” Eurylochus admitted. “I was trying to be funny.”
“Well… it was mean,” Odysseus remembered her sobs over what their father had said to her only a few hours ago, and the way she squeezed his hand for reassurance. “Just be nice to my sister, okay?”
Eurylochus looked back over at Ctimene, who was playing with her dolls.
She noticed, and walked into the house where she could play privately.
Back at home, Laertes was near the hearth staring at the fire. Eurycleia was with him, a worried expression on her face.
“My love?” Anticlea asked and slowly walked up to her husband, who didn’t seem to notice her. “What’s wrong?”
“Spies,” he whispered with wide, terrified eyes.
“What spies, my love?” She walked over, gesturing for Eurycleia to take the kids while he muttered an indecipherable string of phrases.
The nurse walked over and took Odysseus and Ctimene by the hand, walking them away from their father. She led them down a hallway to the nursery.
A servant walked into the room.
“My lady,” he said. “There are visitors here. The king and queen of Sparta, and their sons and daughters. They’ve requested an audience with the king.”
Laertes continued mutteringing, ignoring the conversation like he hadn’t heard it. It was so quiet for Odysseus to hear.
“What do we do?” The servant asked. “They can’t find out—”
“I will see them…” Anticlea’s voice trailed off as Odysseus walked too far to hear the rest of the conversation.
“What’s wrong with him?” Odysseus asked.
Eurycleia suddenly stopped walking and knelt down to his level. She let out a shaky breath. “Your father is fine.”
“Why are you lying to us?!” Ctimene screamed. “Do you think we’re stupid?!”
“Ctimene—” the nurse began, but she started running to the nursery.
Odysseus held his eyes open so he wouldn’t cry, but a tear slipped out anyway. He hoped Eurycleia didn’t notice.
Laertes was having a rare good day, so he decided to try speaking to King Icarius himself. And he made Odysseus sit in on the meeting.
Odysseus didn’t really understand what was going on or being said, the words and phrases sounded like another language. Instead, he just quietly watched.
Icarius was dressed in a simple red himation, but a golden laurel wreath sat upon his head.
Laertes listened to Icarius’ demands and nodded, making no attempt to barter. It was like he was an entirely different person.
Odysseus wondered what happened. He wondered where his father went. He was always the center of attention, always entertaining a crowd with his wit. This was the shell of the man he once knew.
Laertes suddenly shook him, dragging him out of thought. “Odysseus, pay attention.”
He groaned.
The meeting continued, Ithaca would provide Sparta with boats and Sparta would in turn provide bronze and other metals, and Odysseus was bored. He also thought Ithaca was doing way more than Sparta was.
The men shook hands, and he could tell his father was struggling.
A woman suddenly ran into the room wearing a short chiton that stopped above her knees and had slits at the sides. Odysseus had never seen a woman dressed like that before, but he heard Spartan women did. “Icarius, she ran away again.”
The man groaned and took his leave. “Excuse me, it’s my daughter.”
“Of course.”
Laertes and Odysseus started walking away from the meeting room, and he couldn’t stop thinking.
“Dad, why do I have to sit through these meetings?” He asked once Icarius was out of earshot.
Laertes closed his eyes. He took Odysseus and walked him into the armory. He closed the door and turned to look at Odysseus. “Son, I’m going insane.”
He felt like he couldn’t breathe.
“I… I’ve been hearing things. That aren’t there,” he said, struggling to get the words out. “These headaches, the convulsions… the physician says I’m dying.”
Odysseud felt his entire world crash down, and even as he tried to deny it, he knew he couldn’t. He could see the tremble in his step and hear the weakness in his voice.
“No,” Odysseus shook his head, desperate to be wrong. Laertes squeezed his nose, squeezing his eyes shut from a headache. Odysseus grabbed his father’s arm. “No, Dad, you’re going to get better.”
“You’ll be king soon,” Laertes said and Odysseus stared at him.
He wanted to cry, but he couldn’t cry. You have to be strong. You have to be strong.
“Be smart, Odysseus,” Laertes gave him a hug. It had been so long since his father hugged him. “It’s not enough to be brave.”
Odysseus couldn’t be in this palace anymore. When his father let go, he opened the door and ran off.
“Odysseus—”
It was night, but he crawled out of a window when no one was looking and ran into the dark forest.
He wasn’t sure how far he ran, but the palace was no longer in view. He kicked the autumn leaves and picked up a stick, waving it around like a sword.
He pretended to fight a monster, screaming when he pretended it wounded him. Then he thrust the stick into the imaginary opponent, killing it in his mind.
He continued through the woods until he reached the end. There was a field, which he knew was owned by his father, and a massive olive tree that had stood there since before his grandfather founded the kingdom of Ithaca.
He stopped in his tracks when he saw a girl next to his father’s olive tree. She stood with a basket in her hands, embarrassed that she’d been caught stealing them.
Her large eyes were a light shade of blue and her long black hair was loose, falling gracefully past her shoulders. She couldn’t have been older than he was.
Odysseus slowly walked up to her, blushing when she stared at him without speaking. He didn’t know why he felt shy, she was the one stealing from them.
Odysseus watched silently as the girl grabbed one of the olives in her basket. She placed it in his hand, and he stared at it. He looked back up at her, brows furrowed in confusion.
What?
She didn’t speak, just watched him curiously.
“Penelope!” A group of men screamed in the distance, probably guards. They were all carrying torches. The girl turned her head towards the sound.
So that’s her name, Odysseus thought.
The girl—Penelope—started running away from the voices. Odysseus laughed.