Under the olive tree

by ccheleanor

Summary:

retelling of the story of Odyssey, adding more details and twists about the two lovers blessed by the goddess Athena, about how they met, fell in love, overcame the difficulties, and found true happiness in each other...

Notes:

It would end in about 15 chapters, so no need to worry about discontinuing.

The details are very different from my other work “Achilles,” but I think the characters mostly stay the same.

I would try to point out the part from original myth and the part I made up…

Chapter 1: Odysseus

Preface

Odysseus sat on the shore, looking at the direction of Ithaca, his homeland.

It had been seven years since he was salvaged from sea by the goddess Calypso resided in this small island called Ogygia.

He woke up inside her beautiful chamber, still trembling from the coldness of the sea water. When he finally registered the beautiful woman beside his bed, he began, with his hoarse voice, asking for his crew.

“I saw no one but you,” the goddess said, squinting her eyes with curiosity. “Even if someone had been drifting nearby, they must be dead by now.”

Odysseus was stricken dumb at the careless words.

No one? Only himself?

For the first time in his life, he wanted to kneel down and cry himself hoarse.

He’s always a spirited, confident soul, but this…this had surpassed even his tolerance.

What kind of king had no one by his side? What kind of king let all his men die either on the battlefield or at the sea, and went home by himself?

He had taken all the young warrior of Ithaca to Troy, promised them gold and kleos, only to have them die under the sword, in the mouth of monsters, and in the deep, cold sea water…

How could he go home like this? And how could he face those old fathers and mothers and told them that they could never see their sons again?

“No, this could not be…” he murmured with an empty voice.

“But that’s the thing it is, no one can change that,” said Calypso.

When he didn’t move or say anything, Calypso suggested: “I know what can make you feel better!”

 

Odysseus looked at her, confused. How could she? The only thing that could save him at the moment, was to bring his men back, or to reverse time…and that’s impossible.

Calypso’s childish pretty face cracked a seductive smile. She went out of the bedchamber, and brought back a cup of wine.

“Drink it, and it will dull your pain…”

Odysseus stared at the drink.

He did hope for the relieve a good wine could bring…craved it in fact; and yet, all the suffering happened during his time of wandering at sea had made him wary.

“I don’t…” he began to say, but then, right in front of him, Calypso’s face flushed with anger, her green eyes radiated with malice that could only come out of a child that never take no for answer. Odysseus swallowed, knowing that goddesses could be the meanest when provoked.

“Well, thanks for your hospitality, goddess,” he took the cup with trembling hands, and seeped it under her stare.

To his surprise, he almost immediately felt a lightness in his head, as if his whole head was liquefied into sweet, mushy material…he couldn’t think, or even tried to think…

“Was…was I going to do something? I can’t remember…” he murmured.

“You don’t have to remember that. In fact, you don’t have to remember anything…I could replace those bad memories with good ones…” Calypso whispered into his ear.

“That…that can’t be done. Because memories are…are important to any human being. It’s…it’s…my memories that made me who I am as a person…” He struggled to state his mind, but even his tongue, his silver tongue, felt numb and useless at this point.

“Then, I’ll make a new person out of you…” Calypso smiled as her hand caressing through his face, like something mellifluous, weightless.

That, actually felt really good.

At the time, the cruel memories only served to make him feel pain and guilt. So why not just forget about it for a while?

So when Calypso asked him if he wanted more wine, Odysseus smiled (though with certain sadness) and said, why not?

So when Calypso took him to her bed, Odysseus put on little resist. And the sex was good, further numbing his senseless mind. They made love until night, until he fell asleep, completely spent. When he woke up, she showered him with good food, good wine, and every kind of fancy gifts. After that, they made love again.

She held on tight at him like vines of mistletoe holding on to the tree trunk, sucking off all his energy and courage…

For a long time afterward, he had lived like husk, like the shadow of his old self.

When he was away from Calypso, and when the magic she used on him was the weakest, he would hate himself with all his might. He would cry out in frustration, pulling at his hairs vehemently, and even stamping on the floor with anger toward himself...

But when Calypso approached him again with her insidious magic and her soft body, he would again lose himself and his wit in no time.

This, was not him.

This was not how Odysseus, king of Ithaca should be like.

The real Odysseus might felt the need to run away from all his failure and gilt for a while, but never would he allow himself to stoop so low. He would not let himself become someone else’s pet, paralyzing himself with magic and endless, meaningless love making…

All of a sudden, he remembered something so many years ago, his maternal grandfather, the king of thieves, Autolycus had once told him: “A woman of your like-mind would always make you be your best self, and would make you like yourself more…”

That was the opposite of Calypso.

That woman, the only woman who was his like-mindedness, who could do all things Autolycus said for him, was his wife, Penelope. His queen, his love, his pain in the night, his nostalgia...

With the image of Penelope in his head, he retrieved some scrap of his old self little by little.

And he tried to recall more, to solidify his memories, and hoped by doing so, he could protect them from the goddess that kept him captive…

 

Chapter one: The Spartan palace

“They must have made a mistake,” Eurylochus stared at the small, messy room in front of them, eyes bulging like a frog.

Eurylochus was Odysseus’ friend since childhood and now his right-hand man. As someone who had a tendency to take things too hard, Eurylochus often felt very tasking beside his young master…not that he was anything but completely loyal.

Odysseus just took a scurry glance and then shrugged: “I don’t think that’s a mistake.”

“Of course it’s a mistake!” Eurylochus’ voice elevated a notch. “You had seen the other kings or princes’ rooms, and they are all quite comfortable looking! Why would the Spartan king treat us like this?”

“Because we are from a small and poor state, and never has any chance to win Helen’s hand in the first place?” Odysseus pointed out, perhaps a little too playfully.

“That…that’s…that’s not a reason to…” Eurylochus stared even harder at Odysseus; he looked even more like a frog now, and Odysseus had to try hard to suppress a chuckle.

“Relax,” Odysseus patted lightly at Eurylochus’ shoulder, feeling a mixture of compassion and playfulness. “I’m here only to show respect to the alleged most beautiful woman in the whole Greece and make the other Greeks know there’s such a state called Ithaca… So, in a way, we have already accomplished our mission.”

Eurylochus frowned at him, his mouth slightly ajar. Now he was looking more like a fish.

“Besides,” Odysseus smile mysteriously. “I don’t think we’ll have to live here for long.”

At that, Odysseus made a wink and turned to leave, letting the footmen to settle his luggages.

“Hey! Where are you going?” Eurylochus yelled at his back.

“To the royal garden!” Odysseus didn’t even bother to look back.

“Royal garden? Huh? Is that wise?”

And Odysseus just responded with a string of clear laughter.

 

It was late summer time, and most of the flowers were still in full bloom.

Odysseus approached the garden quietly; he did not have an exact plan in mind, but only trying to find some fun for himself.

Well, come to think of it, he did have some sort of plan, which was that he might see Helen in the garden.

He is not interested in marrying the beauty everyone was talking about, though. In fact, from what he had heard from all those kings and princes on the way, Helen was a dull and spoiled girl. This kind of girl would not make a good companion, even if Ithaca had been powerful enough to ask for her hand.

But still, a beauty is a beauty. Odysseus was curious about just how beautiful this Helen was, that could entice so many suitors from all around Greece. Besides, he would not mind making some troubles for the princess and her suitors.

As he came closer, he could hear chatting and giggles coming from the small pavilion in the center of the garden. Clearly, there were a few young women among them.

Odysseus immediately perked up and quickly sneaked closer; there, in the center among a group of young girls about thirteen to sixteen, was a beautiful, elegant woman in a blue dress; judging by her look, and the way the girls surrounded her, showering her with all kinds of respectful compliments, Odysseus thought this woman must be the beauty that had once charmed Zeus, the queen Leda herself.

Leda should be in her late thirty now, but her mature beauty was still dazzling; even more amazing, was the blue dress she was wearing: the chiton fitted her mature, slightly plump body well, setting of her curve perfectly; its color was that of sky blue with an accompany himation with a lighter shade of blue and looked like the wings of a butterfly. When the queen walked, the blue dress and the bluish shadow created an effect like blue waves…and it was so elegantly beautiful that it outshone the blue sky itself.

The young maids surrounded her all made sounds of marvel.

“If my maid all had hand so wonderful like you, I would not be worried about not having beautiful dresses!” the queen exclaimed softly.

Filled with curiosity for the magnificent weaver, Odysseus turned to the direction the queen was facing, and saw a brown haired young lady that had escaped his vision previously. The girl was only 14 year old or so, with a rare beauty that could make anyone’s breath caught for a second; when she batted her long eyelashes, her smile strangely gave a feeling like a kitten that was intelligent and slightly mischievous.

The girl was dressed in a light yellow dress, like the sunlight casted on pure white cloth, which, though simple, implied a skilled hand behind.

Was she also queen Leda’s maid? But she stood out among other young girls like a swan among common birds. And yet she could not be princess Helen either. She’s too…calm, poised for the legendary flamboyant beauty.

Odysseus was so absorbed by the scene that he forgot to hide his presence and stepped outside the bushes he had been hiding behind. A maid discovered him and yelled in panic: “Thief! There’s a thief!”

Only seconds, all the young girls and the queen all turned to stared at him.

Odysseus was embarrassed.

In the later years, he was often accused of being thick skinned and even cheeky, but at the time, he was still a young man after all.

“No, I’m not a thief…” as he tried to clear his name, his eyes involuntarily cut to the yellow dressed girl; she was staring at him like the others, but instead of anger and fear, there’s only curiosity like a cat’s.

“Then you must be a bold lecher that try to peep at our princess!” the yellow dressed girl cocked her head.

“No! I…I had no dirty intentions…” he even stuttered a little for it felt intolerable to be accused by her in this way!

“Then who are you?” the queen demanded. “Don’t lie to me, young man, I am the queen of this state; with one word, I could banish you from Sparta for life!”

“I…” he finally remembered his excuse prepared for such occasion: “I’m a bard who sneaked, wanting to try his luck among the ladies in the citadel; for I reckoned the royal ladies would be the most generous in such a celebratory day...when all the kings and princes all gather here to seek the princess’ hand!”

The queen made a slightly wry smile: “Oh, poor young man, you must be foolish enough to think this as some sort of bless!”

“Wait, respected queen Leda, I think we should not trust him too easily!” the girl in yellow dress demanded, but not in a menacing tone.

“Well, I’m having the same thought actually,” the queen smiled at the girl ruefully. “But it’s hard to ask him for evidence…isn’t it?”

“Maybe…” the girl cocked her head again, and was looking more adorable as that. “Maybe we could ask him to tell a story?”

The queen’s interest seemed to be provoked; and the young maids also seemed excited by the suggestion.

“Ah, that’s a very smart suggestion!” Odysseus grinned.

And so, to please the ladies, Odysseus began to tell a story he had once heard from an old bard in Ithaca. It was the stories about a noble man who killed a monster to save the young woman he loved…Odysseus missed out some of the adventure on the way but put emphasize on the eventual marriage and the beautiful wedding gifts to suit young ladies’ taste…or so he thought so.

Without surprise, with his beautiful and alluring words, he made all the maid smile. Except for one, and that was the girl in yellow dress he wanted to impress the most.

To be exact, she was not uninterested. In fact, she was listening intently. Yet, instead of being charmed by his story, she looked curious and thoughtful.

“Well, well, I think we can all agree that he is a bard for real!” the queen disclaimed contently.

When the queen asked a young maid to fetch him some food and drink, he approached the girl in yellow dress furtively and asked in a low voice: “you don’t seem to like my story much?”

The girl was surprised at first, but only a second later, she retained her poise and smiled rather ruefully at him: “Well, the story is fine. But…I got a strange feeling that you did not tell it in the best way you know, and that somehow demeaned the glamour of the story…”

Odysseus almost gaped at her. For some reason that was still unclear to him, he felt his heart quicken a little, and his mouth dry.

Just then, a maid had fetched him his prize. And then the queen led the girl away from the garden.

“Enjoy your meal,” the girl in yellow dress gave him a sympathetic smile, and then took her leave.

…leaving Odysseus stood there to sort out the not so small storm in his heart.

“What a ruthless young girl!” he mumbled; but at the same time, there’s a small curve on his lips that was a half formed smile.

 

“What a ruthless young girl…” he shook his head and murmured again as he stepped into the small stone house that was allocated to him.

He didn’t see lamp in the dim room, so he assumed he was alone, and was surprised when he heard Eurylochus’ voice coming from the corner of the house.

“What girl? Who are you talking about?” Eurylochus asked much too innocently.

Odysseus jumped at the voice, barely suppressing a disgracing yelp; he turned to Eurylochus and demanded with pretentious grimness.

“Why didn’t you light the lamp? It’s already early evening! You may…” he was perhaps a little too excited that he was uncharacteristically short of words: “you may bump into something!”

Well, that was lame. Luckily, Eurylochus was blissfully insensitive.

“Um… I was...I was waiting for you,” Eurylochus scratched the back of his head. “and…and I think since we are leaving this house, it would be…”

“Huh?” Odysseus frowned for a few seconds and then quickly perked up. “He had already come to invite us?”

“Yes, it’s the king’s brother, prince Icarius had…” Eurylochus paused in mid-sentence: “Wait…you knew this was going to happen? How?”

The dumbfounded expression on poor Eurylochus’ face was priceless.

Odysseus grinned: “Well, you haven’t been paying attention to my conversation with other kings and princes, right?”

“Huh?” Eurylochus kept his mouth hung open as he considered the question. “you mean...that you have been boasting in front of all the kings and princes around Greece that you are the fastest runner in the whole Ithaca and every other city that You have been to?”

Odysseus raised an eyebrow, unfazed: “That’s not completely boasting…I’m fast, am I not?”

“That you are,” Eurylochus conceded while continuing to scratch his head: “You are quick, there’s no question about that. But, as to the part that you outrun everyone in Ithaca…”

“Well, no one here is likely to verify that with people of Ithaca, right?” he grinned.

“Um?” Eurylochus was still frowning, but he seemed to decide to let it pass for now. “But how…how does that make the king’s brother invite us to stay in his house?”

Odysseus grinned some more; his failure in the afternoon, and the girl in yellow dress was far from his mind right now.

“Well, I have heard that the high prince Icarius is a champion runner and is known to be quite proud of that…” Odysseus smiled mischievously: “and someone who built his whole identity on such things would most likely want to test his ability when he knew a competitor has entered his territory…”

Eurylochus gaped at him.

“You had planned for this?”

“Yeah…I had guessed that they would not treat a prince from such a small state with much attention, and this should make our staying much more comfortable…”

“And…you are going to compete with him?” Eurylochus asked.

“I have many excuse to postpone that: tiredness from the journey, sickness because of the unfamiliar environment…in the meantime, we could just enjoy our stay!”

“And what if he demands…”

“If things really come to that, I’ll just run with him…surely he would not kick me out just because I lose a game?”

Eurylochus kept gaping for a long while, and finally let out a heavy sigh.

 

Just as Odysseus had guessed, they were invited to move into the house at the other side of the palace, and treated as royal guests.

After they were settled into the house, a welcome dinner was already prepared for them.

After days at sea, Odysseus now really craved some proper food. The smell of the roast fish boosted his appetite; and he longed to use the wine to warm himself up, chasing away the tiredness in his body.

He quickly joined Icarious and his wife Polycaste and two young boys about eight-year-old named Perileos and Thoas at the table.

But just then, prince Icarious, a man in his late forties but still had a rather childlike, cherubic face, asked him to wait a little longer.

“Prince of Ithaca, I’ll have to ask you to wait a little longer. My daughter was companion to the queen and had just gone back shortly after your arrival. She had gone changing now, and should be ready to join us in no time…”

“Companion to the queen?” Odysseus was suddenly alert.

“Yes, my Penelope is the best weaver in the whole palace…no, the whole Sparta…”

“Ah, that’s…” Odysseus had already begun to feel awkward.

“Look, here she comes!”

Odysseus turned toward the direction the prince had been looking at, and sure enough, there stood the girl in yellow he met in the garden this afternoon; only now she was wearing a simpler white dress.

The girl looked at him, not with surprise, but with an implicit, mischievous smile. And she looked adorable like that.

“That’s her,” the prince said proudly. “My daughter Penelope!”

Chapter 2: Penelope

Notes:

I'm aware that words had probably not been invented yet at the time. But...there's still the possibility...right?

Penelope had a beautiful dream last night in which she was back to the embrace of her long lost husband Odysseus, and all was good and safe again.

But when she opened her eyes again, she was alone on her bed; outside her bedchamber, the lounge of the palace was still occupied by those annoying suitors that set out to take advantage of a woman without her husband’s protection.

Once in her youth, she had hoped to win admired and loved for her wit and skill; but now, these men’s excessive praises and the words of love only made her sick. she knew all too well, they only saw she as a piece of meat, a prize to win.

They were those men that had no capacity to see a woman as a human being like a man was. Such capacity, was the real thing that separate them with man like Odysseus.

As the result, they could never understand what she and Odysseus once shared.

But that was a long time ago from now. The last time she was in his arms, she was still a young woman. It pained her to think that she might never experience the kind of feeling again.

Penelope looked through the window, the daylight had not broken yet, but she got out of the bed and walked toward the table where her loom was set. Her hand came to rest on the device with care and love, like it was her only friend left. In some way, it really was.

On the table, there place a letter from Sparta. It was from her brother, Perileos and Thoas. She had yet to open this one, but she knew what it was about already.

They would again tell her that the best way to protect herself and her son Telemachus, was to choose a husband, and took him and her dowry back to Sparta…as if that would ever happen.

She had made up her mind so many years ago, to come to this land that was said to have only rocks and sheep. And she didn’t make decision lightly.

Her mind drifted to so long ago, when she met Odysseus in Sparta, her hometown.

 

She was the daughter of the prince of Sparta, Icarius. But shortly after her birth, Icarius’ brother Hippocoon took the throne by force, and sent the two brothers Tyndareus and Icarius into exile; and Penelope’s mother had died on the road not long after(or so he told her).

Penelope was the only child at his father’s side when he was in exile. He would later exclaim that she was unlucky to be born at the time, and that he would like to compensate her with all his might.

“Poor girl, you can’t even remember the life in the palace, do you?”

But to Penelope, that was actually a rather happy time in her life.

They had to hide their identity and lived among ordinary people, but her father still had some gold he brought out from the palace; as a result, their life was simple but not difficult. Her father was a champion runner, and he had the simple hobby to join the race with other young man in racing. And each time, Penelope would stand beside the road to cheer her father on. And he won every time! After that, he would receive some fruits or wine as the prize, and he would hold Penelope up, kissing her face, and calling her his lucky girl.

When Penelope reached the age of three, she began to learn weaving and sewing, and her talent was prominent from the start. Soon, the little girl Penelope that was little higher than the loom was making money to compensate for their daily usage. And her father would often hug her, pinched her little face and said that she was the best thing in his life, and that even though he was no longer a prince, he considered himself luck just having a daughter like her.

But when Tyndareus was assembling an army to take back the throne, Icarius quickly joined force with his brother, and together, they force king Hippocoon to step down the throne. After that, the father and daughter moved into the palace and had a beautiful, spacious house of their own.

And then, in no time, her father who said he was contented to have only her, quickly took a new wife and had two sons in just two years.

After that, he had spent most of his time with his wife and sons.

When he saw Penelope, he acted like she’s still his darling little girl and that no time had passed between them. He still said things like how he was lucky to have her, and yet it seemed to Penelope that he could gone on days without remembering her existence.

Before long, her father would begin complaining that he contributed no less than his brother Tyndareus in the war, and how unfair it was that his brother was now king of Spartan while he was forgotten at the corner in the palace. It was then, Penelope began to feel there’s an invisible wall between her father and her.

And when Helen, her cousin older than her by two years, reached fourteen, her fame as the most beautiful woman in all the lands of Greece began to spread.

And Penelope was confused when she found her father was not only envious about his brother’s position, but also a daughter (sired not by Tyndareus but by no less than Zeus himself if the legend was correct) who was so beautiful that everybody was talking about.

The fame certainly had its base. Penelope had practically grown up with Helen, and she would still be dazzled by her beauty some times. And yet, Penelope was still hurt by the way her father looked at Helen.

What’s more, she was secretly… disappointed at him.

But Penelope didn’t hate Helen. She didn’t mind Helen being the star of the whole palace, and had never wanted to become Helen… not really. She had her skill and her brain that she was secretly proud of, and truth be told, her cousin Helen’s desire to outshine everybody all the time was tiresome at times.

Penelope didn’t dwell on that, and she tried her best to improve her skill instead.

About the age of ten, she became queen Leda’s companion, and Leda and Helen both fell head over feel for the dresses she made. Her father was pleased to know his daughter had a place in the palace, but even that didn’t make him pay more attention at her.

But Penelope was used to her condition at the point.

Years passed this way; when Helen reached the age of sixteen, which was the time Tyndareus announced he would finally give out Helen’s hand, suitors from every state of Greek poured into Spartan citadel.

It was also at this time, when Penelope met Odysseus.

 

The first time they met, Odysseus pretended to be a bard when he was caught peeping around the garden.

He was asked to prove his identity through his song, and he did render an interesting story. And yet, perhaps due to the intuition of a creator, Penelope sensed that the most important passion was lacking.

As she pointed that out to him, his face went completely blank for a few second.

Penelope couldn’t suppress a smile, for she recognized that this man must seldom be challenged in this way, and by a young girl in particular. He must believe that with his silver-tongue and quick wit, he could charm his way through the world without much difficulty.

And she was pleased to be able to offer the challenge.

But strangely, unlike other men she had seen before, although being challenged this man did not get angry. This small detail stirred up something soft inside Penelope.

“Enjoy your meal,” she smiled again as she turned to leave.

And there’s a very small voice in her head saying: it’s pity, that she would never see him again…

 

It turned out she was wrong.

That evening, as she went back home from the queen’s chamber, Penelope was told by her father that they had a guest; he was the prince of Ithaca, a champion runner at his own land, and a suitor of princess Helen.

Penelope was bored already. But as she approached the table, and the prince of Ithaca turned to face her, she immediately recognized him as the young man pretend to be a bard at the royal garden.

For a short while, the air went very quiet.

The awkward feeling was mutual.

But her father seemed to be in a good mood that day.

“This is the prince of Ithaca, Odysseus,” her father smiled. “…and did I mention he’s a champion runner?”

Penelope quickly decided that she would act like the small episode in the garden never happened.

“Good evening, prince Odysseus,” Penelope smiled the perfect smile of a highborn young woman.

“Good evening, my beautiful lady,” Odysseus replied.

He seemed relaxed; as a result, with every sentence he spoke, there seem to be a verbal wink attached to it.

After they all settled into their position at the table, Odysseus, with only little provoke from Icarius, began to tell things he saw on the journey here. He was eloquent as ever, and he seemed to be perfectly at ease now, if not for a few secret glances he tossed at Penelope’s direction.

After some time, Penelope just couldn’t resist it; she asked in the most innocent and lady-like way she could: “You tell such a good story, prince Odysseus; you would definitely make a good bard!”

At that, Odysseus choked on the wine he was drinking, and nearly spattered the wine on the table cloth.

 

That night, after Penelope retreated into her room, she still found herself a little restless.

But for what reason? She could not tell.

This man Odysseus was her cousin’s suitor. He was charmed by Helen like a fly to a meat like all those kings and princes before him. He’s just as dumb and uninteresting as the other men.

Penelope knew all of that. So why was she still felt such disappointment?

Penelope shook her head and walked toward her loom, thinking that she would lose herself in weaving, and in the process made her head clear again.

But just as she sat in front of the loom, a knock on the door stalled her movement.

Penelope frowned but still went to open the door…and sure enough, standing at her door was the false bard, suitor of her cousin, prince of Ithaca, Odysseus. He had his casual smile again, like this was some sort of rendezvous.

“I hope I do not interrupt you, my lady.”

Penelope was a bit annoyed and briefly considered asking for a chaperon; but she didn’t want him to look down on her, thinking she was a girl raised inside a maiden’s chamber all her life.

“Forgive me, prince Odysseus, but don’t you think it’s a bit strange to address me as such?”

“As a matter of fact, I do. And I would like to be addressed as Odysseus only.”

“Then, you should address me as only Penelope.”

“Deal,” his smile broadened at once, making Penelope doubt if this was his intention all along.

“Can I come inside for a while?” he had the decency to act a little shyly. “I’m…trying to clear something up.”

Penelope cocked her head, facing him with meaningful silence; but in the end, she couldn’t beat her own curiosity and let him into the room.

“You’d better made things clearer than it was instead of the other way around,” she said.

“I wouldn’t dare. A girl with such skill in weaving must be blessed by the Goddess Athena!” he smiled broadly again, and this time, Penelope felt her cheeks warm a little.

“Are you here to ask me something about Helen?” she went straight to the point.

“Huh?” Odysseus sounded genuinely puzzled; then he shook his head with a look of disbelief: “You think all I had done was a way to get a head start over the other suitors?”

“You are across the sea for her hand,” Penelope’s tone mirrored his incredulity. “are you not?”

“It’s …complicated,” Odysseus gave a rueful smile.

Penelope narrowed her eyes and said nothing.

“King Tydareus had practically announced that Helen is the ultimate beauty that every kings and princes should vie for; in this circumstance, it might be considered rude to refuse such an invitation.”

“That excuse is… a bit lame, don’t you think?”

“Those were my father’s own words as he sent me on this journey,” Odysseus shrugged before added: “plus, I am really curious about just how pretty Helen can be.”

He then made a “guilty!” gesture that made Penelope shook her head again. But she was not feeling bad about this.

“And I stand no chance from the start; if you know the situation of Ithaca, you’ll know I speak of the truth.”

True, she had heard that Ithaca was a small isle with little wealth; in fact, it was almost the state the was the least talked about these days.

Although king Tyndareus had told everyone that the choice would be made by Helen, it went without saying that the power of the state the suitor came from along with a proper gift was to be the first concern. Helen might be able to put in some words, but it’s impossible for her to choose her husband freely.

And not just Helen, but every girl in the whole Greece.

“Ithaca is real beautiful, though,” Odysseus smiled. “I’d like to take you to see it someday.”

He seemed to blurt out the last part without much thinking, and they both gone quiet as the connotation sank in. But the small panic in his eyes made Penelope felt the softness inside her again.

“Well, I heard there’s a lot of sheep.” She she smiled: “At least I won’t be in need of wool to weave should I go to Ithaca one day.”

Odysseus chuckled with delight: “Certainly.”

And after a short pause, he added: “Even if I never get to see Helen, this trip to me is already worth it: for I have seen a young girl that possessed the most impressive skill as well as breathtaking beauty.”

Penelope had to suppressed her urge to look down: “that doesn’t ring true to me.”

“But I’m speaking from my heart!”

Penelope shook her head and gave a sly smile: “But I have many works that are more beautiful than what you saw today!”

Odysseus blinked. For a few seconds, he seemed to be at a loss for words.

“Then…” Odysseus grinned. “I hope I could fulfill that part before I set sail again!”

Again, the verbal wink.

Penelope decided to make some retort: “As to beauty…even if you are speaking of the truth, when you first saw me, you must be thinking that if a maid could be this pretty, then the famous Helen must be all the more dazzling.”

Odysseus smiled with a frown: “I couldn’t deny it; it’s only natural. But…”

When he spoke, Penelope looked down again; just then, Odysseus continued to say: “But such words…this is not like you.”

Penelope looked up with a jolt.

Odysseus was looking at her with a gentle expression: “you have a great skill, great passion, and you did a great job about it. Even if you are somehow outshone by Helen in the eyes of some fool, I would still say you have got the better end.”

Penelope took a deep breath, suddenly feeling so overwhelmed that she had to look away.

“In that case, my father is what you called a fool as well,” she snorted lightly.

“Even so, I would stick to my words.”

Penelope could only look to the other side of the room to hide her feeling.

“But…you said you came to clear your name…I don’t see how this is going to help you.”

“Well, that’s because I haven’t begun yet,” he smiled.

“Then what…” Penelope paused and blinked a few times as she realized what he was talking about. And, judging from Odysseus’ expression, her guessing was accurate.

“You are the only person who was unsatisfied with my story,” Odysseus said, and his gray eyes were glistening.

Then, Odysseus began to sing a song; this time, it was not about any particular hero, but of an adventure in his youth, when he went to see his grandfather, and went on boar hunting with the old man.

Penelope was impressed, for she knew, as a creator as well, that the simplest theme demanded more heart put in the details.

It was exciting and fun, when he got to the part when he was hurt on leg by the boar, Penelope actually let out a small yelp…although she quickly covered her mouth with her hands.

In his tale, the maternal grandfather, the king of thieves, was portrait as charming and smart; and the grandfather and grandson’s similarity in wits and humor made Penelope smile involuntarily.

“Did I succeed in clearing my name?” Odysseus asked after he finished the story.

She simply gave him a tacit smile, knowing he would understand her approval.

Odysseus made a playful gesture of wiping his forehead and made a sigh of relieve.

“You don’t know… this is the first time I really feel nervous when telling a story!”

Penelope chuckled at his expression and then, at the impulse, she quickly added: “In returned, I’ll let you see the most beautiful dress, wearing by Helen, in the banquet for all the suitors!”

Odysseus’s eyes glistened again.

As their eyes met, both of them smiled.

 

After Odysseus left, Penelope went back to her loom. She was still feeling a bit of…otherworldly. She was attracted to the world he described; other than that, she was please by what he saw in her.

And yet, she was also a little afraid, unsure if she should put her trust on this man who she had just met one day, and who had the strangest magic in words.

Also, he had touched on something she didn’t want others to see...

But, it’s only fair that if she wanted to challenge him sometimes, then she would have to accept it in return…

For some time, Penelope just stood there, lost in her own thoughts. Then she shook her head, and decided to put her head at the design of the dress she was to made for Helen.

She had already made a few dresses, but none had make her really satisfied. She would like to produce something that was truly unforgettable.

She had been troubled for a long while, lacking of fresh materials as well as ideas. But just a few day before, she thought she might have finally found the solution.

This was Helen’s big day, and she wanted to make it perfect…not only for Helen, but for herself as well…

She had heard that, in such a big day, not only the royal guests, but many gods and goddess would be watching…though mostly unnoticed.

But, could this really work?

Penelope took a deep breath, and sank into deep thoughts again…

Chapter 3: Odysseus

Odysseus looked at himself in the reflection of the water. He could hardly recognize himself these days when he was with Calypso.

He was not yet an old man, but he looked ancient, tired, empty.

It was all due to his escaping from painful memories. But the pain did not really go away, it just consumed him little by little…until he could not recognize himself anymore.

And what did Calypso see in such a husk that she would willingly demean herself to keep him? He could not in his right mind fathom it.

With Penelope, it all came naturally. As they fell in love, they also love themselves more.

That was his prime, his personal golden ages.

Calypso had once asked him how he could love a mortal whose beauty would weather through time and unable to compete with her.

Odysseus only made some empty compliments.

Calypso was like a child with a perfect, mature woman’s body. So how could he make her understand?

He had seen beauty in his life. He could still remember that day when Helen appeared in the banquet and dazzled all the kings and princes...

And yet, because he had already had someone occupied the place in his heart, the beauty had no real meaning to him...

And that person was none other than Penelope...

 

The next morning after he moved into Icarius’ house, as he came to the table, expecting another feast, he saw the high prince and his two little boys had already dressed for hunting.

“I have promised my sons to take them on a hunting trip,” the prince explained. “Would you want to join us? We can hunt boars or grouses, grill them and eat them with wines!”

“How many days have you plan for the trip?”

“About…ten days, maybe up to half a month if the boys like.”

That was way too long for Odysseus. Beside, although it was not difficult to charm Icarius, he wasn’t exactly easy around him — as a free spirit, he often felt a little uncomfortable with someone of great authority.

Besides, here was Penelope.

Penelope, the most special girl he had met in his life. He wasn’t sure about his feeling for her, but he sure was happy by her side.

“Prince Icarius, I was afraid to leave my men for such a long time…”

“What a pity…but, it’s understandable,” Icarius didn’t dwell on it a second more. “you just take this place as your home, my servants would serve you well.”

“You are real generous…”

“We should go now…if we couldn’t catch anything, the boys and I would have to go without lunch!” Icarius was grinning happily.

“Ah… do you have something you want me to tell Penelope for you?”

“Penelope?” Icarius frowned, sounding generally surprised by this question.

For a moment, Odysseus thought he might have shown too many care toward Penelope.

But then, Icarius simple laughed it off, saying: “Don’t worry, Penelope is a great housekeeper, she’ll take good care of you!”

Odysseus could only reply with a silly smile as sighing inwardly.

After the prince left, an old maid put the breakfast on the table.

“Will the lady Penelope joined the breakfast?”

The old maid frown, probably thinking he’s a pervert who had his eyes on both her lady and the lady’s cousin.

“The lady usually goes to the palace early...”

“Then, I guess I could enjoy all these delicious foods you prepared all by myself,” Odysseus smiled at the maid.

Yet, just as he was eating his bread listlessly, he saw a familiar, beautiful figure wandering across the window, toward the small garden in front of the house.

Odysseus, feeling brightened up immediately, put down his food and went out after her.

He caught up with her stoop beside a rose bush, looking at the half spread pedals.
Some butterflies were dancing around the flowers, waiting for the full bloom.

“It’s a lovely garden you had,” Odysseus said as he walked toward Penelope.

Penelope slowly turned to him, smiled faintly. She was wearing a simple white gown, which made the beautiful, apricot-yellow himation stand out even more.

Odysseus turned to the flowers and asked: “It’s beautiful…are you beloved by Demeter as well?”

Penelope shook her head and smiled: “not really; no one ever taught me how to plant. but I do like to touch the flowers, the trees, and even the earth from time to time.”

“I can teach you if you like,” he grinned. “I had plant an olive tree in my room once.”

“Olive, tree of Athena. No wonder you are blessed by Athena,” she smiled, a little mischievously: “...with wits and tricks.”

Odysseus chuckled at that.

“I heard the maid said you are going to the palace…”

“Not today,” she shook her head.

“Oh?” he was perhaps a little too excited.

“I had told the queen that I want to have more time to consider the dress Helen is going wear…”

“Ah…”

Of course. What was he thinking?

But then, he saw Penelope lowered her head, seemingly too shy to speak whatever she had in mind.

“Actually, I’m thinking…” Penelope trailed off midway.

Odysseus bowed to get near her.

“You are thinking…”

Penelope suddenly looked up: “I’m thinking, maybe the inspiration I need is at the outside of the citadel.”

Their eyes met for a second, and Penelope seemed to be fighting the urge to look down again.

“And I’m think…perhaps you could think of some sort of trick to get me out of here?” Penelope asked him, her face bathed in the pale-gold sunlight, looking more adorable than the flowers.

Odysseus’ breath caught for a short while. But his mind reacted quickly.

“Well, I guess we’ll have to think of some disguise…” he said.

Penelope blinked.

 

“You’re sure this is going to work?”

As they walked toward the entrance of the citadel, Penelope asked...again. She was a bit anxious, but more than that, thrilled. Though she was trying to cover up the latter part.

He had asked Eurylochus to fetch some clothes and dressed Penelope as a bard. Bards were often dress in long robes to the ankles along with a cape, which was convenient as a cover.

“Don’t worry, you can cover your face with the hood!”

“Do I look strange to you?”

“No need to worry about that either,” he grinned, “Bards are considered a little feminine, so they’ll just think that’s the way it is.”

 

Just like Odysseus had promised, they passed the guards without any commotion.

Walking among the pedestrians, Penelope’s footsteps became lighter, faster, like she was a bird just out of the cage and was testing her wings.

Although it’s early morning, many people had already gathered at the bazaar.

Odysseus bought two souvlakis and gave one to Penelope.

“I had never eaten something like this before…” Penelope looked at it with wonder.

As they sauntered through the street, Penelope began talking about the dress she had in mind, and she sounded even more excited.

“Queen Leda told me that a blue dress would be good, and Helen said she preferred crimson…”

Odysseus thought about it: “She’s supposed to show her beauty on the banquet, yes…but I think crimson may seem a bit too…aggressive.”

“I like crimson,” Penelope beamed. “but I think Helen does not think deep enough. She just thought that crimson was the most dazzle, eye-catching…”

Odysseus was not a bit fazed at being contradicted.

“Uh-huh,” he didn’t even want to interrupt Penelope.

“Crimson is the color for her sister, Clytemnestra, a beauty no less than Helen, but is considered too manly, and thus far less desirable.”

“Huh…” Odysseus raised an eyebrow. “You’re saying Helen is secretly a bit envious of her sister?”

“I don’t think so, no,” Penelope shook her head. “But I think we women are more susceptible to such beauty. If spirit has color, then Clytemnestra’s must be crimson; Helen’s…I think it would be more…seductive, but also more pure.”

“Pure?”

That’s…a bit unexpected. He had heard men talking about Helen, most thought she’s a little vain, flippant, whimsical.

“She’s proud, that’s for sure. But no need to demonize her for that. And her beauty…it’s like the incarnation of Aphrodite herself, it’s luxurious, wild, natural…like the foam drifting on the water under the sunlight…” at the moment, Penelope sounded almost entranced.

“It’s…it’s beautiful,” Odysseus murmured.

And he was not talking about Helen.

“And…” Penelope suddenly turned to him, so unexpected that Odysseus felt his heart quickened.

Penelope was dressed in a black rob with no style to talk about, and yet the energetic beauty could not be missed or even reduced by anything. It’s shinning before his eyes.

“And I had heard there’s a kind of wool that was the color between silver and white, and in the right kind of light, it’s iridescent…” Penelope said.

“I have heard about it as well; It comes from some sort of mixed breed that even the shepherds don’t know where does the other kind of sheep comes from and impregnated their female sheep.”

“It sounds like a folktale,” Penelope cocked her head.

In fact, she’s right to doubt; Odysseus did stretch it a little: the rumor only had it that some peculiar lambs were born by ordinary sheep. But, putting it this way sure made things sound more fun.

“That’s coming from someone whose cousin was sired by Zeus,” he pointed out.

Then they looked at each other and broke into smile at the same time.

“It’s called the Iris’ sheep,” Odysseus said. “It’s rare, but not impossible to find. And time is on our side...we can certainly try our luck!”

That day, they walked from morning till afternoon; Penelope showed tiredness after a few hours, but she did her best to catch up with him and did not complain even once.

In the evening, they finally found a store selling all sorts of wool. Penelope, who was a little despondent at the time, immediately perked up.

“That’s a lot of wool,” Penelope grinned, a little child-like. “You think we’ll get lucky this time?”

“We’ll see.”

As they walked into the store, Penelope immediately walked toward the seller and asked: “Good evening, have you any wool from the Iris sheep?”

Well, that’s a little rush, Odysseus thought.

...but it’s also very adorable.

And Odysseus just couldn’t hold back the smile on his face.

The seller was a bit taken aback as he saw a young woman dressed in the bard’s clothes, coming to ask him for the Iris’s sheep; but he soon reacted with a broad smile: “Yes, obviously, you have come to the right place!”

“Really? Can I see it now?”

The seller took out a box of coils of wool that shone with white and silver sheen. Even if it’s not from Iris sheep, it’s still of very high quality.

“That’s wonderful! I’ll take all of it!” Penelope exclaimed.

“All of it?” the seller was excited as well.

“Wait, wait, wait...” Odysseus found his time to step in: “we’ll have to verify it’s really the Iris sheep first.”

“You are suspicious, aren’t you?” the seller pursed his lips, displeased. “Here! Come and take a look for yourself!”

They both came forward, watching the seller put the wool under daylight. At first, the wool seem almost unchanged, yet as the light changed its angle, iridescent sheen began to emanate from the wool, so beautiful that not only Penelope, even Odysseus was speechless for a while.

“It’s…more beautiful than I thought!” Penelope sighed.

“How are you planning to pay for it?” Odysseus asked.

Penelope lower her voice:“I had saved all the jewels the queen gave to me.”

And then she took out a small package and slowly opened it, revealing many gems in it.

But the seller only frowned as he saw it.

“Um...I guess that’s impressive for a young girl like you, but with those jewels I’m afraid I can only give you half of the box.”

“But, that won’t be enough for me to...” Penelope began to protest.

“I’m sorry, but you must know how rare the iris’ sheep is...”

“Wait a second,” Odysseus interrupted: “do you know who you are talking to?”

“Even if she’s a queen, I could not afford to lose so much interest…”

Odysseus could see disappointment on Penelope’s face; he turned to give her a reassuring smile, before turning to the seller again.

“You would be a fool if you refuse her,” Odysseus shrugged.

“What are you talking about?” the seller stared at him suspiciously.

“You must know that princess Helen, the most beautiful woman in the whole Greek, is about to choose her husband in the coming banquet,” Odysseus smiled.

“What does that has to do with...” the seller frowned.

“Because this little girl in front of you, is going to make the dress that Helen is going wear at the banquet!”

The seller’s jaws dropped.

“She’s...she...”

“Uh-huh,” Odysseus replied with a proud smile. “Think about it: Helen wearing the wonderful dress made by your wool, dazzling all the kings and princes of whole Greek...how would that do to your fame?”

The seller stared at him, seemingly too overwhelmed to speak. Even Penelope looked really impressed.

“But...how should I know you are not fooling me?” the seller demanded.

“You are suspicious, aren’t you?” Odysseus mirrored the seller’s previously tone. “You just take a good look at this girl in front of you.”

“I looked; then what?” the seller frowned again.

“Have you ever seen a beauty like her?” Odysseus smiled at Penelope, and was pleased to see her flush a little. “It’s because of the same bloodline…she’s cousin to princess Helen!”

The seller looked at Penelope, still gaping.

Penelope took a step forward.

“If you’ll help me, I promise I would make the most amazing dress with your wool...and I’ll tell everyone attend the banquet that the wool comes from your sheep!” Penelope said sincerely, though still a little shyly.

“Do we have a deal?” Odysseus smiled at the seller.

The seller took a deep breath.

“The wool’s all yours,” he put the box in front of Penelope, but not before adding: “and don’t forget: my name is Ettore!”

 

After Penelope went home with the wool, she spent most of the time locked in her room, completely absorbed in her work.

Odysseus, now having nothing to do but eating and sleeping, soon began to feel bored.

“If you are so bored, perhaps we can invite other kings and princes for an archery contest?” Eurylochus suggested.

“Why would I want to do that?” Odysseus rolled his eyes.

Eurylochus looked genuinely puzzled.

“I don’t understand. Why do you become so despondent all of a sudden?” Eurylochus asked.

Odysseus sighed. “I’d just told you, I had nothing to do and...”

“But nothing has changed, has it?” Eurylochus frowned. “And you are always finding new and interesting things to do!”

“I...” from the first day he knew Eurylochus, this was perhaps the first time, Odysseus felt utterly speechless in front of him.

It was then, Odysseus finally saw the point…

He was bored; He was listless; He was not happy.

And nothing was changed. Except…Penelope.

It was after Penelope locked herself in the room, that he began to feel like the whole world had lost its color.

And this could mean only one thing…

Could it really be that...he had fallen in love with Penelope without knowing it? The question was like lose threads on a dress: once noticed, it only got worse.

And so, Odysseus, who was a free soul since he could remember, now really began to feel troubled…

...by the question of love.

 

After ten day’s self-enclosure, Penelope finally stepped out of the bedroom.

As Odysseus walked toward the table and saw Penelope helping the maid putting breakfast on the table—lost some weight, beautiful as always, eyes glistening with excitement— he immediately felt jubilant again.

He sat at the table, and continued to watch Penelope fetching all the dishes from kitchen, ignoring the strange look on the kitchen maid’s face.

“If you have something to say, just say it,” Penelope demanded, half-jokingly. “And stop staring at me!”

Odysseus grinned.

“I’m trying to discern from the lights in your eyes how amazing a dress you had made!”

“I haven’t finished it yet!” Penelope flushed a little.

“But you have had it in mind.”

“Yes, but I’m not revealing any detail until the banquet…so stop staring at me!”

Odysseus only chuckled.

They ate breakfast together, during which they talked about all kinds of things that came to mind.

At some point, they began to talk about Icarius, Icarius’ wife, and the two boys that still hadn’t come back.

“If they set their eyes on some animals that are hard to catch, it could go on much longer,” Penelope said.

“I don’t mind them spending more time,” Odysseus decided to let out part of his real feeling: “I’m…I’m content …with the time we share.”

Penelope blinked. Then two red cloud tinted her cheeks.

“Why?” Penelope’s voice was very soft. “…are you afraid that my father would force you into running race with him?”

Odysseus chuckled. “Actually, I am a little afraid…cause I’m not a champion runner at all.”

He was about to tell Penelope about his smart trick that allowed him to get into this house in the first place, when he noticed that Penelope’s had gone completely stiff at once.

“Penelope?”

Penelope did not answer.

Odysseus was about to reach for her shoulder, when Penelope suddenly took a deep breath.

Odysseus watched Penelope with concern: “How…”

But Penelope simply smiled it off: “I’m fine, just remembering something I forgot to do.”

Then she put off her plate and retreated into her room.

When they met later that day, and the days after, Penelope was her calm, usual self again, as if nothing had ever happened.

Maybe nothing had. And yet, Odysseus couldn’t get over the feeling that he had missed something that’s real important. And that troubled him very, very much.

Three days later, Icarius went back to the house. The two boys were happily displaying the giant deer head they brought back, and each had a story that featured himself in the center.

With Icarius at the house, Odysseus had even less time to be with Penelope. And his puzzle continued to be, like a permanent tooth that couldn’t grow out of the gums.

At last, Odysseus’s question finally resolved…at the banquet for Helen to meet her suitors for the first time.

That morning, Penelope left the house early to prepare for Helen’s dress.

And Odysseus, feeling bored and at the same time restless, began to pester Eurylochus for fun.

“Please forgive me, prince Odysseus…but, this is what we came for, don’t you have to make yourself more…presentable?”

“Nay…I had no chance from the start anyway,” Odysseus grinned.

Eurylochus made a long sighed.

But still, before the banquet, Odysseus shaved and bathed himself, and put on the most decent clothes he brought.

As he got to the palace, most kings and princes were already there.

One of the prince came to him with a strange smile on his face.

“I’ve heard that you moved into the house of Icarius…” he pressed: “Have you seen his daughter? Is she beautiful?”

Odysseus found himself unwilling to acknowledge that fact, but didn’t want to damage Penelope’s fame as well.

“Hey, we are here for Helen, aren’t we?”

The prince only snorted; his smile became a little suggestive, lewd even: “Are we going to have two wedding instead of one?”

When Odysseus didn’t answer, the prince added: “Well, you are the only one who stands any chance for Icarius’ girl anyway.”

“What do you mean by that?” Odysseus asked, instinctively sensing there’s something that he should not miss.

“Well, weren’t you boasting that you are a champion runner?”

“Yes…”

“And Icarius had once said that his future son in law would have to beat him in a running race to win the hand of his daughter!”

At the moment, Odysseus felt like being struck by a thunder... that’s it. That’s the answer he had been looking for…

That’s why Penelope was upset when he admitted he was not really a champion runner! That must be it!

Although this was not sufficient proof of Penelope loving him, at least he’s sure she liked him…

Odysseus suddenly wanted to run, to jump, to dance, to do all sort of stupid things…

He kept on wearing that silly smile when the banquet started, and all the kings and princes began drinking, eating, joking around him...

Before long, Tydareus showed up on the balcony above with a smug on his face. He first thanked all the suitors for coming (which was very contradicting with the smugness), and then announced that Helen was ready; every man quieted down at the moment.

The complacent expression on Tydareus’ face was weird, ridiculous even, considering that Helen was born because his wife was raped by Zeus; not only that, the Greek state often passed down power and throne through alliance and marriage. Marrying of two daughters to powerful kings could bring him great wealth, but might very well result in his house being annexed, swallowed up by other state, leaving his own sons with no power and no place to rule.

All these had made Odysseus suspect that the gods had been conspiring with Tydareus for something bigger than all these kings and princes could think of.

But he had already gone this far, he could not fight off the curiosity to take a glance at the legendary beauty…

“My daughter Helen, she’s coming to express her gratitude for your admiration…”

Then, a beautiful young girl moved toward the brim of the balcony, and everyone in the room sucked in a breath involuntarily.

It was beyond any description. Penelope was right. This woman was the incarnation of Aphrodite…no, she’s the incarnation of lust. The purest kind, the ultimate, brain-burning, soul-consuming lust…

And the dress on her curvy body made her beauty elevated to the level of art, and a sheer masterpiece of it. Like Penelope had said before, Helen’s beauty was that of pure nature, and the energy of that beauty also came from it.

The silver and white gown made Helen so luxuriously beautiful like a pearl just born out of a shell, emerging in the blowing of the sea wind and the golden sunlight; as she walked, iridescent like glinted under the sun, like she was a newborn body that covered only by light…

Odysseus was in awe. And so was every man in the banquet. For a prolonged moment, there’s not a sound.

Then, all of a sudden, the light began to grow more brilliant…and every one gasped.

But that was not possible…Even if Penelope’s hands were magically skilled, she could not make the dress really glow.

So it must be…

Just then, petals of rose were pouring down from the sky, each covered with white, gauzier lights…

“It’s the goddess!” One of the kings yelled: “It’s Aphrodite coming to bless her beloved human!”

And someone raved: “Hail Aphrodite! Hail Helen! Hail lust!”

That was crazy, was way over the top…Odysseus thought with a frown. Even the ultimate beauty couldn’t make people completely abandon their sense…could it?

Then, another suitor followed suit: “Hail Aphrodite! Hail Helen! Hail the most beautiful woman in the whole Greek!”

Soon everyone, everywhere was hailing Helen…but not only Helen, but something bigger than the woman Helen herself.

Amid the commotion, another light cast down from the sky. And this time, the light lit up another figure…

Penelope.

It was then Odysseus finally recognized Penelope hiding among other maids. She wore the light-yellow dress he saw her for the first time, and it was unassuming, carefully chosen to lessen her presence. And yet, the light brought out her refined, delicate beauty and her bright, intelligent eyes.

At the moment, Odysseus forgot everything else, forgot all about Helen.

Slowly, the golden light formed on her torso, like a golden armor.

“It’s Athena!” Odysseus blurted out.

It’s Athena coming to bless her beloved human as well!

Others quickly realized that as well, and they began hailing Athena as well.

“That’s Penelope, that’s my daughter!” Icarius, who was a guest as well, yelled with proud!

Then the crowd began to hail Penelope along with Helen.

An ominous feeling suddenly emerge in Odysseus’ mind, as he saw Helen’s smile fall; Penelope was retreating into the room, face unreadable.

That wasn’t looking good…

The king Tydaneus took a step forward and announced to the guests: “Since Aphrodite and Athena both came to bless my daughter Helen, and my brother Icarius’ daughter Penelope, I should add a great amount of gold on Penelope’s dowry, and let the kings and princes have a chance to win her hand…”

The crowd began to racket again. Many made gleeful noises, especially those who was from the second line states, who knew that their chance of winning Helen’s hand was thin.

Odysseus kept silent.

In fact, he retreated silently from the banquet, away from the palace, sauntering aimlessly onto the street. He walked through streets, and finally reached the shore.

Looking at the broad sea water, Odysseus suddenly felt powerless.

He had just fallen in love for a girl the first time in his life, and because of this episode, he could never hope to win her hand now…how could he? With such a small state and no precious gift?

“Goddess Athena! Why are you doing this to me?” Odysseus yelled at the sea.

“How dare you to question my doing, human!” a grim, unpleasant voice emerged from his back, making Odysseus’ skin crawl.

Odysseus turned, and saw the gray eyed Goddess in golden armor standing right before his eyes. Her beauty was breathtaking. But her beauty was the hard, solid kind, almost the opposite of Helen’s.

“Goddess…goddess Athena!” he blurted out.

To his surprise, the goddess’ pursed lips softened into a wry smile.

“You don’t think my love for Penelope is a blessing?” the goddess asked.

That was not a question, but a trap indeed.

“I…” Odysseus felt, for the first time in his life, he’s short of words.

In his frustration, Odysseus decided to just go on with it.

“Goddess Athena,” Odysseus sighed before continuing: “I...I love Penelope, and I’ve set out to win her hand...but, what you did today, had made it very difficult to me.”

“You dare to compare your love to my divine love?” Athena’s gray eyes seem to be the color of the sky in a bad weather.

And yet strangely, Odysseus was not nearly as nervous now.

For reason unknown to him, underlying the goddess’ grim expression, there seemed to be amusement. People said the animal for goddess of wisdom and victory was owls, and yet, this goddess in front of him seemed to express some traits of cats. He actually liked it, though he couldn’t decide if this cat was playing with a rat by him...

“No, goddess Athena, any human would be greatly honored by the slightest of your attention. But I...” Odysseus took a deep breath: “Among all those kings and princes, I’m the only one who sees Penelope like you do: as herself and not as a beautiful prize attached to a great dowry…”

“She is an amazing woman,” Athena curled her lips up a little.

“She is,” Odysseus sighed.

“And what make you think you are a match to her?”

A trap again, Odysseus thought. But he decided to face it.

“Because in a way, I’m equally amazing.”

A pause.

Then Athena suddenly laughed. Out loud.

“Well, I don’t know if you are equally amazing, but you do catch my attention, prince of Ithaca,” Athena narrowed her eyes. “If you are so conceited of yourself, then why not go win her heart?”

“Because...no matter how amazing Penelope is, like any other young girl, she is equally powerless to decide her marriage,” Odysseus sighed. “And a prince from such a poor state as mine, almost stands no chance.”

“Even so, if you could take out a precious enough gift, with Penelope’s preference of you, you might actually turn the table around,” Athena was almost smiling now.

Was Athena indicating a solution for him?

Now that Odysseus was sure (as sure as possible anyway) that Athena wasn’t going to crush him like a human to an ant, he became somewhat bolder.

“Goddess Athena, if I can think of a way to get a wonderful gift, would you lend me your help then?”

Silence.

Just as Odysseus swallowed secretly, thinking maybe he had gone too far, Athena actually smiled. A sly, charming, beautiful smile.

“We’ll see,” Athena cooed. “We’ll see...”

Chapter 4: Penelope

The day had already broken; the suitors would soon awake, and began to demolish her household again. These young men were like pests; they damaged everything in sight and latched on whatever they could feed on. They despised morality, tramped on ethic…They didn’t even afraid of the god’s punishment.

In a way, they were monsters created by the whole Greece: their fathers had either died at Troy or lost at sea; they had grown up in a poor land with no fathers and no king; they had no one to teach them, no future they could see...

The time they were in the palace was perhaps the first time they felt in power.

Penelope couldn’t help but think that if not for the great dowry Tydareus had bestowed on her, maybe some of them would leave a long time ago.

 

Penelope slumped into the chair before her loom.

And this was what Eurycleia saw when she walked into the queen’s room: the queen sat in front of the loom, elbows on the table, face buried in her hands, like she had been dried of the last drop of her energy.

Eurycleia let out a long, sorrowful sigh before she went forward to stand behind Penelope.

 

Penelope had heard the voice, but she didn’t move due to her aching, weary heart.

“Poor kid,” Eurycleia said as she put her hands on the queen’s shoulders. She seldom addressed Penelope like this; and she sounded like she was about to weep. “My poor queen…”

Being Odysseus’ wet nurse, Eurycleia had a special connection with her young master: not exactly mother and son, but something close to family. Which was why, when the suitors first appeared in the palace, she blamed Penelope for her beauty and wealth behind her back (but did not escape Penelope after all), and often watched Penelope with suspicion.

But all these years accompanying each other, they finally began to see each other in a new way. After Anticlea died and Laertes went into self-imposed exile, sometimes Penelope felt Eurycleia was the only person in the whole palace she could actually rely on.

“Eurycleia…” Penelope lifted her head and whispered.

“Poor kid,” Eurycleia sighed again. “If it’s too hard for you, if…”

But Eurycleia couldn’t bring herself to really say that, to tell Penelope to do whatever was best for her and forget about Odysseus.

So Eurycleia trailed off into faint sobs.

“Eurycleia, you don’t have to worry about me,” Penelope turned to face Eurycleia, giving her a sad smile. “This…actually isn’t my first time, waiting for Odysseus to come back while everyone told me he wouldn’t…”

“When did you...?” Eurycleia asked.

Penelope only smiled, thinking back to so many years ago, when she was about to be married off by her uncle, king Tyndareus.

 

Many people thought she was deliberately causing the scene on the banquet for Helen’s suitors, but it was not true; or more precisely, she did hope to accomplish something, but this result was not what she had in mind at all.

She did hope by putting her talent into making the wonderful dress for Helen, she might get Athena’ s attention and thus be acknowledged by her; and through it, she would be seen as no ordinary girl, and thus not to be married off perfunctorily or on a whim.

She never thought to make herself the vanity prize for those suitors!

Not to mention that, the only one she had any feeling for, was the who was mostly unlikely to be approved by her father and uncle!

And after they all went down from the balcony, Helen was deliberately not looking at her…Helen must hate her now, thinking that she was ugly inside out, that she was envious and deliberately using trick to steal her light…

This was nightmare; this was even worse than being unseen, being neglected…

She escaped into her room, not knowing what to do next. She didn’t know how much time had passed, when she heard someone knock on her door. When she hesitated to answer, a voice came from the other side.

“Penelope, it’s me, Odysseus.”

She struggled for some time, but opened the door at last. For the first time, Odysseus’ face looked rigid, not a trace of smile of it.

“How do you think of the dress?” she forced a smile. “It’s beautiful, right?”

“It is, but I have something else to tell you.”

“Yes?” she asked in a strangled voice.

It’s Odysseus’ time to struggled for words.

After a while, he began: “Penelope, I’m leaving Sparta.”

“What?” she blurted out with a broken voice.

That seemed to soften his expression. Odysseus smiled, though only vaguely.

“But I would be back soon…with the perfect gift.”

Penelope gaped. Her heart quickened like something had a life of its own.

“I…”

“Penelope, are you willing to come to Ithaca with me?”

Penelope dared not open her mouth at once, afraid her heart might jump out.

“It’s a beautiful place,” Odysseus continued. “It has less wealth than Sparta, that’s for sure, but there no one would compare you with anyone, and you’ll have your own small house that you can make it the way you like, and in which you will always be cared for…”

It’s like he had read her mind.

“I…I do like you very much,” she finally managed, and saw him smile again.

“but I had just known you…and, I think we are more like friends…”

His expression dimmed a little, but his smile quickly recovered: “We are friend. And I think husband and wife should be each other’s friend as well. By which I meant…we’ll always be on each other’s side, and we’ll face every difficulty together.”

Penelope felt her breath caught. Again.

“I won’t push you into anything, Penelope. Just come with me, and you can still make your decision later…”

“You’ll do that for me?” Penelope felt warmth gathered in her eyes.

“I will,” Odysseus smiled at her.

He’s not a particularly handsome man, but he had smile that was like the wind of the spring.

“Will you wait for me? Penelope?”

She smiled with tears in her eyes. Although she was still afraid, she also felt warm and thrilled.

It was like going on an adventure, and who else would be better than Odysseus as companion in an adventure? Her cheeks felt so warm she suspected she must be blushing hard right now.

Penelope?” he asked again, softer this time.

“Yes,” she said, it’s a whisper, but none the less, determined. “Yes, I will.”

 

But it was not easy.

Odysseus left Sparta the very day, and all was left for Penelope to fend off the suitors now that some of them might regard her as their second prey after Helen.

Penelope’s first thought was to go to her father…she knew this idea was stupid, but it’s only natural that he was the first one came to mind. She still remembered how he took care of her when she was a little girl and came down with fever, or how he used to carry her on his shoulder when she was too tired to walk...

It’s all very small, and some of the memories were so vague that she was not completely positive that they really happened. But, still…

Penelope approached her father the next morning as he was eating breakfast…it was when he turned to her with red-faced excitement: “Penelope!”

He stood up from the chair he had been sitting and walked forward to tug her into an embrace.

“Penelope, you had done the most wonderful thing!” her father was now sobbing on her shoulder, and it pained her, making her speechless. “Now Tyndareus and I both have a daughter that is blessed by gods!”

He was panting as he said so; and Penelope could smell the wine in his breath. He was drunk, possible since yesterday.

“And think about the amazing dowry, Penelope!” Icarius acclaimed.

“Yes, father,” she didn’t know if she pitied him or was more disappointed at him. But she still loved him…and that’s the real reason she now felt the warmth in her eyes.

“If we can keep your husband here, his state will be our ally, and we can let your brothers go there…”

“Father, I…” she pulled off a little and took in his red, puffy face.

“What’s the matter, Penelope?” Icarius frowned.

Penelope could see clearly now; he had grown old, but more like a child in the same time. She was briefly distracted by the thought that if he was still a champion runner…

“I think…the most important thing,” she made herself say evenly, with a forced smile. “is to go thanking the goddess Athena.”

“Yes, yes…” Icarius nodded, his smile appeared again, but there was still confusion lodged between his eyebrows. “We should make a sacrifice…”

“No, father,” she stated firmly. “I’m going to her temple to thanks her in person!”

 

Due to her tenacious pressing, guards and horses were quickly prepared for her.

To avoid the suitors’ pestering, Penelope particularly asked her father no to give way her where about.

The temple was a distant away from the palace, and except for festivals and sacrifices, there were only priests and the oracle. And Once they heard a princess blessed by Athena was coming, they welcomed her cordially and quickly cleaned out a room for her to move it.

So far so good, Penelope thought.

Her plan was: to ask the oracle to pronounce Athena’s will for her to weave her own wedding dress in the temple, and by that postpone the wedding for as long as possible. But as to how she could accomplish that...

In the first night, Penelope slipped off the room into the hall, kneeling down before the statue of Athena; it was of two men’s height, made of marble, fully armored, and stunningly beautiful.

“Goddess Athena, I’m grateful for your blessing. It’s the ultimate glory and honor to me. And yet, owning to that, now I have to beg you to help me one more time,” she begged.

No answer.

Of course. Things were never that easy. So she just kept kneeling there, whispering her wish again and again…

“Goddess Athena, please…”

Penelope didn’t know how much time had passed, when the eldest priest came to her, with surprise and disapproval, trying to get her to stand up: “Princess, this is not right! We built temple not as a way to ask something from the god and goddess, but to show our respect!”

“I know that…” she sighed.

“Then please get back to your room…”

It was then Penelope sprawled herself on the floor.

“Goddess Athena, please listen to me…”

“What are you talking about, princess…this is disrespect…”

Penelope looked at him with a desperate smile: “Ah, goddess Athena, what you don’t know is that I have brought a lot of wine to the priest, and I think they would all be drunkenly asleep right now.”

The priest stood up straight and took a step back; a dazzling light burst from the midair, revealing a beautiful figure in golden armor; she had gray eyes that tinged with a shade of purple.

“You know,” the goddess spoke with a cold voice. “My brother Apollo made his followers carved ‘know yourself’ in his temple for a good reason.”

“I know…I know I could be facing your anger for this,” Penelope smiled sadly. “but, you must know that I have been wanting to see you all my life.”

Athena did not answer, but her grim face softened a little.

“I had been praying as weaving all the time: making this one good, please, let me give my best to this…” Penelope said in whisper.

The goddess finally smiled.

“Yes, I remembered. You serve me well. I enjoy your work, and bless you in return,” but the goddess soon narrowed her eyes: “But now, you are disturbing the principle between gods and men…”

“But we are a girl and a goddess,” Penelope ventured, knowing full well its danger.

A pause. And then Athena began to laugh. She laughed so hard that her body swayed back and forth.

“Oh…I don’t know you are capable of such humor,” Athena shook her head. “But this kind of wit is not good for you, girl.”

“I know,” Penelope lowered her head.

“And you are doing this…just for a man?” Athena sounded displeased again.

Penelope suddenly looked up, eyes wide open: “You know about him, then?”

“Yes, I know something about this man,” Athena looked at her, face unreadable. “Even if he is nice to you right now, he’s still a man. If he falls in love with someone else, he can take a concubine, or a war prize…and you can do nothing about it. He might become sated with you, or simply grow to be senile and hateful…”

“Yes, all of these might happen,” she admitted quietly.

“Then why?”

“I…I think it’s because he sees me as who I am, and he’s smart and funny…” she paused to think about it, and with a rueful smile, she added: “or maybe just because…he’s adorable in my eyes.”

“Adorable?” Athena gave a wry smile, seemingly remembering what a man Odysseus was. And judging from her amused face, Penelope would guess that the goddess did think Odysseus at least a little adorable.

“I’m aware many men are despicable. But…I love my father despite his deficiency and everything happened between us; and now, I feel drawn to Odysseus…it’s not my conscious doing, I just do…”

“You are awfully honest,” Athena sighed.

Penelope blushed again.

“You are still young, too young…” Athena shook her head. “You don’t know how much cruelty men can do to women…”

Athena seemed to feel genuine worried for her. Penelope was a little flattered, but also a little confused.

As a follower of Athena, of course she knew about Athena’s birth story; her mother was killed by her father Zeus, but she’s proud to be his favorite, and was trusted with his most deadly weapon: his thunder. And Athena decided never to get married, and it was said it’s because she wanted to be the daughter that he would never lose…

And Athena, despite her beauty, dressed like a man; despite her sympathy toward women, seemed to excluded herself from her kind…

Penelope suddenly had a thought; as the thought first came to her, she already knew it was dangerous. Very dangerous.

“But, goddess Athena…if all you see in men is despicable, why do you always dress like a man?”

The moment the question left Penelope’s lips, it’s like the air began to thin…Penelope grabbed tightly at the clothes on her chest, trying to sooth her own breath…

Athena was glaring at her.

“How dare…I’m different!” she was angry, and yet soon as the words were out, she went stiff for a long while.

Then, without any warning, Athena simply vanished. And Penelope finally felt she could breathe normally again.

Penelope quickly took several deep breaths; but she was still trembling all over…

What had she done? She might have ruined everything…She angered the goddess she had admired and loved since she could remember; she might even hurt Athena by her childish words…

As the realization sank in, Penelope began to feel a sense of doom. Then she began sobbing while walking listlessly back to her room.

She lay on bed, trembled under the quilt, and after long and arduous hours, finally wept herself to sleep.

 

The next morning, Penelope was awoken by the knocking of her maid.

As she opened the door, the maid smile at her and with excitement told her that the oracle was about to announce a prophecy entrusted to him by the goddess Athena herself.

Penelope’s heart quickened at once, and she rushed into the hall, where the oracle and the priest had already lined up waiting.

And the prophecy went like this: Penelope was to accomplished her wedding dress in this temple, with her own hands and no other help. Only until it was done, would the marriage be blessed by the goddess.

Penelope let out a long and shaky breath. She accepted the prophecy, thanked the oracle with perfect manner, and walked back to her room. Only after the door was fully close, did she collapsed on the floor.

“Thank you, goddess,” with tears all over her face, Penelope thanked Athena again and again.

“Thank you, goddess...”

 

And so, from the day on, Penelope began to weave and sew her wedding dress in the temple of Athena.

She quickly had a design in mind and went on with it. When the maid or the guards came to ask for her progress, she would always be working. In the night, she would tear apart what she had finished during the day…

In such a way, Penelope waited Odysseus…

Chapter 5: Odysseus

Notes:

The part about Circe and Autolycus is all made up by me; no myth says anything about that. But it sure is fun!

Ah, and the part about Autolycus and Sisyphus as well. (but they were neighbors, so I guess it’s not an outrageous stretch?)

As he was looking at the sea water, a brown, petite bird landed on the rock beside Odysseus. It’s a skylark.

Odysseus turned to the bird, and was cooing toward it, when Calypso wrapped her arms around his neck from behind him.

“Come inside, my lord,” she whispered into his ears.

Odysseus smiled wryly, almost like he’s going to cry in the next moment. Calypso sometimes liked to dress him like he was her master, although they both knew she was the more powerful one among them. He didn’t know how Calypso feel about this, but he often felt he was forced to playhouse with her…except playhouse usually didn’t involve love making.

He let Calypso dragged him all the way into the room; as he heard Calypso chatting endlessly about what fruits and drink, he began to feel his chest full.

Before the heat and courage disappeared, he made himself say it... again.

“Calypso, I have a home to go back to.”

Calypso went completely stiffen all at once, and she kept at it for a long while. Calypso’s back looked so much like an innocent young girl, and yet, Odysseus knew she was fuming inwardly.

Finally, Calypso turned to glare at him, demanding: “You think I don’t know?”

“What…”

Calypso cut him off: “You had been fooling around with Circe for a year…had you ever thought about your home during that year?”

Odysseus was ashamed, mortified, but at the same time, he was trying hard to defend himself inwardly: for one thing, Circe did not force him to stay, and they had not been together nearly as long. But still, it was not justified, as he knew clearly that at the time Penelope must be waiting for him…

His only excuse (and a lame one, he knew) was that days with Circe represented the other part of him, and another possible way of life.

It’s much like the duality of his nature.

He had two important father figures in his life, one was his father Laertes, the king, the warrior, even a farmer sometimes if needed, and the other was his maternal grandfather Autolycus, the thief, the trickster, the man who dared to play trick on gods. He had both men inside him.

With Penelope, he’s more like his father, though more playful, more free-spirited. Penelope was the love of his life, she’s home, she’s safety…

With Circe, it’s another story.

It’s like Autolycus’s part in him had a comeback battle; Odysseus let out all that was suppressed, went wild on the island with Circe.

It was thrill, fun…but all in all, it’s still a way to avoid his pain…it was only now, he finally saw through all of these.

But in a way, he had to go through all of it; just like he had to learn from Autolycus, so he could go back to Penelope…

 

As Odysseus and Eurylochus arrive at Phokis, his grandfather Autoclyus’ homeland, he asked Eurylochus to leave him be and wait in a farm house nearby; Greeks honored the relationship between guests and hosts in Zeus’ name, and so a polite and unsuspicious traveler usually had no problem finding place to stay for a few days.

“You don’t want me to come along? Why?” Eurylochus frowned.

“Well…maybe because I’m going to do something that’s less than honorable?” he joked.

A joke, but also a possibility. After all, he’s here to see the infamous king of thieves!

But Eurylochus actually snorted at his face: “as if what you did before were completely honorable!”

“Hey!” Odysseus protested, still jokingly.

“Seriously, protecting you is supposed to my job!”

“But Autolycus is my grandfather; I’m looking forward for some quality time with him. And you are…too serious for his taste,” Odysseus grinned.

“Huh? What does that supposed to mean?”

 

In the end, Odysseus went alone to the Phokis prairie, a primitive place with no king and no palace.

Odysseus had been to the place when he was just ten-year-old, and now couldn’t recall the exact location of Autolycus’ house. Truth be told, he wasn’t really sure Autolycus was home, or if he even still lived here.

As Odysseus sauntered through the grassland, a young boar the size of a young child came into Odysseus’ sight. It’s still years from its maturity, but it’s already a strong animal, which was why it could walk here alone and still be at ease.

Odysseus saw his chance, and pounced. He grabbed at one foot of the beast, and quickly fixed it in place with his thighs. The poor animal had not yet had fangs as weapon and could only squeak and kick, leaving a lot of bruises on Odysseus’ thighs; but Odysseus held on tightly.

“Ha, well well…aren’t we a fated pair?” Odysseus grinned with painting.

Then he pressed all his weight on the creature to subdue it. The boar was strong, but so was Odysseus. Finally, after some awkward failed tries, he managed to tie a bell at its tell, and then he set it free.

The bell ringing quickly spread through the prairie. Odysseus continued to walk forward.

After about half an hour, he heard a voice coming from a small mountain hill.

“I should have known it… if you named a trouble, it would always come back.”

He referring to the name “Odysseus” he gave to him, which could mean either trouble or pain.

Odysseus looked up at the hill, and saw a man standing on it; against the blazing sunlight, Odysseus could only see the figure of him, which was tall, lanky but masculine, long hairs down to his shoulder scattered in the wind. Even Odysseus was a little in awe at the scene before him.

But as the man walked down toward him, Odysseus found that although still towering over him, his grandfather was all wrinkled on the face, and his hair completely bleached to the color of snow, not a trace of color in them.

According to Odysseus’ mother, Autolycus sired her when he was fifty something, so this man before him must be at least 90 now. But his grim, expressionless face was no less terrifying than in Odysseus’s memory.

And under Autolycus’ right arm, was the boar Odysseus just captured. The man yanked the bell off, and let the twice fooled little animal go free at last.

“Their kind only hurt you once, and leaving no permanent harm; how long have you prepared to hold grudge in that small, small heart of your?”

Odysseus lifted up his tunic to show the scar on his thigh. “You called this no permanent harm?”

Autolycus snorted; although Odysseus knew the old man had been faking grim from the start, when Autolycus’ face soften, Odysseus still felt a little relieved.

“That’s why I said you have a small heart…must from your father’s side.”

That’s the same words his grandfather had told him once, when he was nurturing the wound on his thigh and was fuming with anger.

“A trickster has to learn to be beaten down, because no trickster could escape every time,” Autolycus said.

The grownup Odysseus only raised an eyebrow at his grandfather. “My father is nothing but a big-hearted man, thank you very much.”

Autolycus made a dry laughed with no malice.

“Whatever. Why are you here for, my grandson?”

“That’s a long story…”

“With you, I shall expect no less.”

 

So they went back to Autolycus’ house, and Odysseus began to tell him about how he went to Sparta and how he met Penelope and fell in love, how Penelope was blessed by Athena, and now he must find a perfect gift to win Penelope’s hand.

“So you came here to rob a ninety-year-old man of his treasure?”

“…you can put it that way,” Odysseys scratched his face a little.

Autolycus laughed; the lines at the end of his eyes went all the way into his snow white hairs.

“Well, you know my rule,” Autolycus gave him a side glance. “You’ll have to beat me in a stealing game.”

Autolycus had told him this rule at his first stay in Phokis: he could have all his treasure if he could beat him. And Autolycus had taught him all the knocks and skills. Odysseus was confident that he could beat anyone – except this man who stood in front of him.

But…

“I win,” Odysseus said, showing a bag in his hand. “Here. It’s your, right?”

“How did you…”

“Here, take a look,” Odysseus waved the bag in his hand.

Autolycus frowned as he took over the bag, but soon the fold between his eye relieved, and he made a huff: “Little bastard. That’s not mine. I had told you your mother made that for me, so you asked your mother for a same one, right?”

“Of course,” Odysseus shrugged, unabashed.

…but then he took out another bag: “But now, yours really is in my hand.”

Autolycus stared at him, knowing that in his surprise, he had forgotten all about paying attention.

“You…” for a second, Autolycus looked like he was going to eat Odysseus alive, but the next second, he burst into the most ferocious laugher Odysseus had ever heard.

“Well, let’s go take a look then.”

 

Autolycus put his trophies at a cave in the deep mountain of the Grand Mount Parnassos.

Autolycus lit a lamp after they walk into the cave, and all sort of valuable treasure shone in the room as if being awakened.

There must be many items that were bestowed with divine power, Odysseus thought.

“This is a bow that once belonged to the famous centaur Chiron, you can take it if you want.”

“Thanks, I do need a good bow; but I don’t think that could move the heart of Tyndareus.”

Then Autolycus showed him the sword of Theseus, the glass of Perseus, Pegasus’s saddle…along with many jewels. Some of them can compete with the treasure house of a king just with a single piece.

“Many of them are great treasures, but…how should I explain their origin?”

Autolycus only gave him a wry smile that meant: I was the king of thieves, so what were you expecting?

Odysseus did think of that.

“Is there something with power or beauty, but not with a specific owner?”

Autolycus said nothing, but walked further into the cave.

Just how deep this cave went? Just as Odysseus was thinking, Autolycus walked into a small chamber.

Odysseus quickly followed up.

Inside the chamber, was a big, flat bowl with curling, complex carving that made Odysseus felt dizzy just by staring at it.

“What’s this?” he could sense there’s a strange power inside this utensil.

“It’s a bowl from Circe.”

Odysseus’ eyes bulged.

“The witch goddess? You stole from her?”

“Yes,” Autolycus smiled broadly.

“How? She did not cast any magic on you?”

“We had our eyes on each other before she even had a chance.”

“Huh?” Odysseus gaped for a long while before he accused: “that’s cheating!”

“No, it’s not.”

“But you made no effort and just…”

“Of course I made much effort…we make love from sunset to sunrise, every night, sometimes even in the day, for totally three years!” Autolycus spoke in a faked grim face. “I was milked to the last drop…”

“That’s very enough, it’s a bit weird to hear that from a ninety-year-old man, and one’s grandfather no less!” Odysseus stared. “So what does it do?”

“The liquid put into it, will become a potion that can tame any animals.”

“You think this can move the Spartan King?”

“I think not.”

“Then…”

“There’s a bull hiding somewhere in this mountain. It’s all white without a slightest tint, and it’s so beautiful that anyone who sees it would not be able to move their eyes, and would definitely want to take it for his own…”

“Why does it sound very familiar?” Odysseus frowned.

“Because I’m speaking of the famous Cretan Bull! It’s created by the sea god Poseidon and so is immortal, and yet because the King of Cretan wanted to take the awesome bull for himself, the god cursed him, and made the bull go crazy, and thus created a havoc in Cretan; The bull was captured by Heracles and then by Theseus, by whom its craze was cured…and then, it was stolen by my friend, Sisyphus.”

“The king that once cheated death?”

Autolycus actually smiled at that.

“Yes, that’s him.”

“So you are suggesting that I use the potion to tame the Cretan Bull?” Odysseus finally got it. “But the mountain is so big…”

Autolycus sighed impatiently. “Do I have to do everything for you?”

Odysseus didn’t need to be told twice.

 

He thought about it for a day, and at sunset, he began to draw a picture on the ground.

He didn’t speak or even made a sound, but only focus on making every detail perfect.

“What are you drawing?” a voice seemingly came from nowhere.

It’s Athena.

Odysseus turned toward the goddess and bowed to her with a calm, sly smile.

“Wait,” Athena narrowed her eyes. “You know I was coming?”

“No, but I think there’s a chance. For I know that the cleverest people usually are the most curious as well.”

Athena squinted at him before finally gave a smile. A gray-eyed cat; an elegant but dangerous smile.

“Careful with your wit,” Athena turned to look at the drawing again. “What are you planning to do with that? You can’t possibly think Penelope can push the wedding long enough for you to finish it.”

“I know, which is why I hope you can help me finish it,” Odysseus bowed to her again. “I would be grateful for all my life.”

Athena’s smile disappeared.

“That’ s what I would call not being careful,” she said coldly, sending a shiver on Odysseus’ spine. But he knew this was a crucial part of his plan.

“Goddess Athena…I know you are above us mere humans, I could only hope you would be kind enough to help me this time…”

“Do you even believe yourself? If I help you this time, it would only make you bolder the next time!” Athena looked at him with distaste.

“But…I guess you must be curious if this is going to work, are you not?” Odysseus felt he was walking beside a sleeping leopard; he was afraid, sure, but he was also thrilled.

He was grandson to the king of thieves, after all.

“Very well, I’ll help you this time.”

“Thank…”

“Don’t thank me,” Athena tilted her chin. “I’m doing this for Penelope’s sake.”

Odysseus blinked, at first, he did not know how to react, but then, a broad smile cracked his face, as he thought about how happy Penelope must be when she knew about this…

Athena shook her head and made a long sigh.

“I hope you would not disappoint me…”

“I…” Odysseus tried to speak, but the goddess had already left.

 

The next morning, a wooden cow was placed on the mountain top.

Odysseus climbed onto a nearby tree and waited. At noon the Cretan Bull was still nowhere to be seen, and Odysseus had already begun to regret he had chosen such a place to stay. It was uncomfortable, unsteady, and every time there’s a slightest wave, he began to afraid it was going to snap; and the bird…Oh the birds…

Odysseus was about to climb down and chose another location, when the earth rumbled. He took a deep breath, using all four limbs to hold on to the twig that supported his body. Then there it came, a mountain of a bull, white as snow, charging toward the mountain top.

Odysseus was afraid it would just run the wooden cow over; lucky for him, that never happened. The bull slowed down as he came near the wooden cow, and it even made small moos as he approached, like it was afraid to scare its loved one.

Now that it slowed down, Odysseus could see how magnificent the Cretan Bull really was, and how strong, how beautiful…Not just the perfect physicality, but it also emitted with energy and power. It’s almost…godly. Before, Odysseus had always thought the story of Cretan Bull ridiculous: how could king Minos be so stupid as to take the bull for himself? But now that he really saw it, he could at least understand the urge partly.

And the bull was not rash or cruel like the legend had it; the bull began to bump lightly at the wooden cow with its shoulder, even tried to nuzzle a little. Odysseus took a deep breath, so anxious that he felt numbness at his fingertips.

Then the bull began to lick the wooden body, which was covered with the magic potion. Odysseus let out a breath of relieve. If Autolycus wasn’t fooling his grandson, then he was very close to success now.

– yes, just like that! take some more!

Odysseus was all focused on the bull that he did not notice a bird, probably feeling threatened by his presence, suddenly flew toward him and slapped at his head with its wing.

Odysseus let out a yelp and fell onto the ground only miles from the bull. The bull immediately stopped. It then turned to where Odysseus was lying, staring him down with its deep blue, otherworldly eyes.

And it towered over him.

Odysseus believed it could kill him with only one kick.

But it just stood there, not moving. Slowly, it lowered its head, as if bowing to Odysseus.

For a long while, Odysseus only stared at the bull, not quite believe such a magnificent creature would bow to someone so small and full of weakness like him.

Then the bull bent the knee of his two front legs while making some low moos.

It was then, Odysseus finally gathered himself to stand up and walk toward the bull. Odysseus made a gesture for it to stand up – for it seemed wrong to treat such godly animal this way. The bull understood. It stood up slowly, but the focus of its eyes were following Odysseus all the way. Its eyes were blue as sea water, and they were beautiful as well as intelligent.

Gingerly, Odysseus reached out to touched the bull at the furry chin, feeling the vibration of its breath.

“Good, good,” he cooed.

 

The night before Odysseus was about to leave Phokis for Sparta, Autolycus and Odysseus had a small feast on the prairie, eating roast chicken and drinking wine as they talked.

“So Sisyphus stole the bull because you two are competing with each other?”

“Yes,” the old thief grinned; his face already showed sign of drunkenness. “After he succeed in stealing the bull, he had been smug for a long while…”

“That’s why you go stealing the bowl from Circe?”

Autolycus chuckled at that, but even as he chuckled, his face betrayed some sadness.

“That bastard…” Autolycus cursed. “I knew he would refuse to concede defeat, but I never thought he…”

Autolycus trailed off into a soft sigh.

“You know you two were very likely to die in your quest?”

“Of course,” the old man snorted. “Or where did the fun come from?”

“Crazy old men.”

“Why else do you think we become thieves?” the old man chuckled again.

Odysseus shook his head, a little in awe of both men now.

“And Sisyphus…he really cheated death?”

“Yes, he asked his wife not to bury him, and used that as an excuse to ask death let him back to life. He promised death to be back in three days, but…of course he blew up the promise. Of course…” Autolycus trailed off into a long, soft sigh.

Odysseus turned to look at his grandfather, who had experienced everything before him.

And yet, he was now all by himself, living in such far away mountain area. Was he satisfied with such life?

“Sisyphus…” Autolycus suddenly began.

Caught off guard, Odysseus answered with a little jolt: “What?”

But Autolycus seemed to be deep in his thought and did not notice anything.

“Before Sisyphus was found and dragged back to the Hades, he came to my house once.”

“Let me guess: let me guess, he came to brag about his feat.”

Autolycus made booming laughter that end in dry coughs like he had choked on wine…except he didn’t.

“Before Sisyphus left my house, he told me that he overheard the gods talking about his punishment: they will make him push a rock up to a mountain top, only to have it fell down; then he will have to push it up again and watch if fell…and round and round and round…just like that,” Autolycus narrowed his eyes, face unreadable. “An endless circle, an immortality of drudgery with no meaning…”

Odysseus shuddered at the image.

“After that, he was lost to the world.” Autolycus said. “If he was telling me the truth, at this moment, he was in the underworld, trying to push the rock up…”

Then Autolycus made a wry smile: “You know, in a way, he did achieve what he set out to do: immortality.”

Odysseus shook his head and made a dry laugh. How sarcastic. It seemed the gods were not without their bad taste in humor. But strangely, Odysseus began to feel respect toward this man Sisyphus.

“He would do that forever?”

“Forever,” Autolycus answer in a grim tone. But just second later, he cracked a broad smile: “But…knowing Sisyphus, I bet he is now secretly laughing at the gods at the moment…after all, he did succeed in tricking the gods, and they can only save their face with such atrocity…”

Odysseus looked at his grandfather, opened his mouth and then closed it without saying something.

Autolycus lifted up the wine and pour both of their cup to the fullest.

“I would still say I am the greatest thief in the world,” the old man said with a smile. “But…Sisyphus had fool the gods, and that, I could not compete. I concede that he’s greatest trickster in the world.”

Then, Autolycus lifted his cup to the sky: “To the king of the tricksters!”

Odysseus followed suit: “To the king of the tricksters.”

Then they both down the wine in one gulp.

The wine made them both bolder, wilder.

“So…what does it like to be with a goddess…and a witch no less?”

“That…” Autolycus chuckled, this time more suggestive. “I thought you would never ask!”

“You want to talk about it, right? Just go on with it.”

“Well, I think you would be benefit from what I’m going to tell you: it’s rare when you meet someone of like-mindedness. Like you and Penelope…it’s very rare, very precious.”

“Wait, you are telling me you and Circe are like-minded?” that sounded very weird to him.

“Of course. She’s fun, interesting, intelligent, and wild…just like I was. We talk about all sort of things…when I’m too tired of making love that is…”

“That’s…unthinkable,” Odysseus marveled.

“We laughed together, we shared each other’s story, both good and bad…those three years were filled with such moments that made them one of the best time of my life…of course the love-making made it even better. And those are all high quality sex I’m telling you…”

“You don’t have to go into that, thanks.”

Autolycus chuckles.

“If the time with Circe is so perfect, why did you leave her?”

“If I have an endless time like she does, I may stay with her for ten or twenty…or even fifty years. But I’m a mortal, I have a life that is short and only once. I have to make it more fun and meaningful, as I still young and with energy…”

“Then, why don’t you go back to Circe when you are old and done with the adventure?”

Autolycus raised an eyebrow: “What do you think of Circe? A nurse? Why should she take care of an old and tired man? I would never do that to her.”

Autolycus stayed silent for a short while, during which Odysseus, for some reason unknown to himself, did not want to interrupt.

“Circe and I, we have a good time together. She had me when I was young and ebullient, and I gave her, as a human, the best time of my life…I do not regret about it a bit.”

Odysseus was in awe again.

Many many years later, when he was on Circe’s bed, he told Circe about that night at the Phokis prairie.

Circe was thrilled at hearing that.

“Ah, how cute! That’s why after so many years, he’s still my favorite human being….”

Although Odysseus wasn’t really hurt, he still thought maybe he should say something: “Well, that’s…”

But Circe cut him off, grinning happily: “I’m so happy, so happy! Let’s celebrate that by making love one more time!”

Chapter 6: Penelope

A new day in Ithaca had begun. The suitors began to yell for the servant to bring them more food and wine, making more mess and noises in the Palace.

Penelope could see all of them in the hall by looking down from the window of her room – they made sure of that. She could even see their faces, greedy and petulant, gobbling at the food that’s depleting each day. Many of their father fought in Troy and had been lost without any message; they blame Odysseus for that, and they acted like Penelope ought to prone before them, offering everything they wanted to sooth their discontent: about a fatherless childhood, about being born on such a barren place, about whatever they were not happy about.

Penelope saw Melantho came into the hall with more food; as she walked pass the suitors, many whistled and made lewd joke at her. Melantho made no response, but when she walked to the table of Eurymachus, he grabbed her waist to dragged her onto his lap. Melantho put on no resist. Melantho writhed like a snake in the arms of Eurymachus, and she acted even more provocatively when she saw Penelope beside the window.

Silly girl. Penelope thought with pain. Even if she really didn’t care about being with Eurymachus anymore, that kind of attitude still had the danger of provoking other men, and made her suffer more horrible fate as a result.

Was Melantho tried to make Penelope feel desire? If so, she failed completely; for that aroused nothing but disgust in Penelope.

Or maybe, which was the most fearsome to Penelope, that Melantho was trying to tell Penelope, it’s Penelope who made her who she was now.

Once, it’s all different. When Penelope first got to Ithaca, go to the palace, all was so pleasing, adorable…

It was so far away now, like another life. But she could still remember…

 

Penelope was a little proud of herself for coming of the idea of weaving and tearing her wedding dress to postpone the wedding, and she succeeded in buying herself about ten days; but in the end, her father got impatient and sent more maid to help. With them watching over her, Penelope completed the wedding dress eventually.

She could only hope that Odysseus had got what he wanted by now. As she came back to her house, she was told that king Tyndareus had announced that tomorrow would be the day for the ceremony of betrothal.

Tomorrow morning, all the suitors should gather in the palace and present their gifts.

When Penelope was told that Odysseus did not come back to the house, her breath was arrested for a few seconds. Only after she was told that Odysseus had come back a day before but went to stay in a place outside the citadel, that Penelope could finally breath.

“He said that his gift was not fit to stay in this house,” a servant told Penelope.

But just then, a thought occurred to Penelope.

“Do you know where he stays?” Penelope asked urgently.

“Yes…”

“Can you..” Penelope stopped herself. No, this man had been too close to her father; it would be difficult to ask him to conceal her words from her father.

So she let the servant go, and pondered for a long while who she was able to trust. Melantho, a little servant girl came to her mind.

Melantho was eleven then, and she was a feisty little girl that Penelope dotted on like a little sister. After Penelope was told by her stepmother that it was not suitable for a noble young woman like her to go to the bazaar, Melantho was trusted with the job of shopping for Penelope’s personal goods.

Could she trust Melantho with this? She’s too young, and perhaps a little too extroverted. If someone deliberately pried, would she be able to keep the secret?

But Penelope really didn’t have much choice now.

Penelope quickly went to Melantho and asked her to go find Odysseus.

“Told him that tomorrow morning he should not come in the last.”

She knew that most suitors lived in the citadel, and they would definitely be earlier. Yet, so long as someone came in to the palace after Odysseus, it would be fine...

To avoid suspicion, Penelope also asked the girl to buy her some makeup from the bazaar.

“And buy yourself something to eat, Melantho,” she smiled fondly at Melantho.

She was awfully anxious after Melantho left. But, she had done everything she could. Now, she could only put her faith on Odysseus...on his wit as well as his heart...

“Please, don’t make me hate you...” Penelope murmured, though her words felt childish even to herself.

 

The next morning, Penelope was summon to the palace to prepare for the coming event with Helen.

Leda welcomed her cordially as usual, but Helen didn’t even spare her a glance. In fact, she had not uttered a word to Penelope after the banquet. Knowing Helen, Penelope understood her cousin was still holding grudge against her, thinking she deliberately stole the light from her.

Helen had chosen to wear the crimson dress Penelope had made for her before, looking more flamboyant than ever; Penelope, on the other hand, wore a simple white dress to avoid further trouble.

In the afternoon, king Tydareus walked into the chamber to check on them.

“Both of you look stunning today; anyone would be real pleased to win your hands.” Tydareus said.

Then he gave a list of suitors whose gifts were considered acceptable. When he spoke Odysseus’ name, Penelope had to use all her willpower not to show her relieve.

“Did anyone today arrived at the last minute?” Helen asked.

“As a matter of fact, there’s one person who hastily rushed toward the palace, telling me that he was late because someone stole his horse on the way...” Tyndareus snorted. “What a lame excuse!”

“Yes, a lame excuse if there is one,” Helen answered, but not before taking a smug glance at Penelope.

“May I ask who that is?” Helen asked.

“Well, it’s the prince of Mycenae, brother of Agamemnon, Menelaus.”

For the second time that night, Penelope felt the urge to kiss Odysseus a hundred times.

 

That night, Helen first announced her choice: she was going to marry the prince of Mycenae, Menelaus.

Sounds of disappointment at once submerge the little balcony they were standing; many suitors had left at the moment.

Helen, with a winsome smile on her face, walked toward Penelope, who was doing her best trying to look despondent.

“It’s your turn now, cousin,” Helen said with euphoria and patted lightly at Penelope’s shoulder. “Though I’m afraid there aren’t many suitors left.”

Though she only touched her once and only for a second or two, her fingers left a strange, uncomfortable feeling on Penelope’s skin.

Penelope took a deep breath and walked toward the balcony.

From down below, Odysseus was looking up at her with a bright smile.

“I shall marry,” she choked a little on her words, but quickly resumed: “...the prince of Ithaca, Odysseus.”

And just like that, she gave her hand to this man who was to give her so much happiness and so much sorrow in the future…

 

The two wedding were soon under preparation.

To avoid any more trouble, Penelope still kept a low profile. There’s another episode that Icarius challenged Odysseus into a race of running, in which Odysseus beat him by an inch.

“Well, the king had already made a decision, of course I can’t let him lose, can I?” Icarius told everyone. Though Penelope doubted how many actually believed that.

 

In their wedding night, as Penelope took Odysseus into her room, her hand was trembling so hard that she had no doubt Odysseus must have noticed.

“Don’t be afraid, just like I told you before, I won’t force you to do anything.” Odysseus smiled at her.

Even so, she was barely able to look at him without feeling her cheeks on flame.

“I’m not afraid. It’s just...it still feels a little weird…” Penelope mumbled.

“I’m sure it does,” Odysseus didn’t seem a bit displeased, to which Penelope secretly felt very grateful.

“You didn’t ask me why I asked you not to come at last?” Penelope asked.

“Well, I was a little surprised at first. But I soon got it: Helen must be angry at you for what happened at the banquet before; she must have heard you have been postponing the wedding and could easily deduce that you were waiting for someone. To take a revenge, she might deliberately choose the one that came last…though it’s real stupid if you ask me.”

Penelope shook her head with a rueful smile.

Odysseus then presumed to tell her how he used the skill taught by his grandfather Autolycus to steal from Menelaus on the street.

“And how did you…”

“There’s no need to rush,” Odysseus smiled gently, making her blush again. “We have a full night for stories.”

And so it was.

The first night they lay on the same bed, they did nothing but tell stories. And how wonderful those stories were!

When she heard about how Odysseus found Autolycus for help and how he used strategy to catch the Cretan Bull, she was thrilled at once.

“Is the Cretan Bull really that beautiful?” Penelope asked.

“It’s magnificent,” Odysseus smiled.

When he had to take a break, she told him how she used the wedding dress as an excuse to postpone the wedding.

“That’s brilliant!” Odysseus marveled.

“It’s not nearly as amazing as yours...” she mumbled.

“Nonsense,” he smiled at her. “That’s the most brilliant trick I have ever heard.”

She blushed again.

And just like that, they tole their stories alternately, until deep in the night.

Then they both fell asleep, under the silver moonlight...

 

They awoke early in the morning, which was not surprising, for they were both a little excited.

And it was a good thing, for their challenge was not over yet.

“I think my father will try to make us stay here at Sparta with him...” Penelope told him. “He would not really say that, I think. But he’ll try everything he could to stop you from leaving…”

“So the best way, would be for us to prepare to leave in secret,” he said, and it was exactly what she had been thinking.

As she smiled to herself, he approached her and murmured at her ear: “We really are like-minded, wouldn’t you say so?”

 

After the plan was made, they both began to prepare for leaving without telling anyone else until the very day they were about to leave.

Icarius was startled. He argued with Odysseus, brought out a lot of excuse he had prepared for such occasion, but one by one, they were dissolved by Odysseus’ silver tongue.

Defeated, Icarius turned toward Penelope, who before that day was always on his side.

Penelope could see the tears and desperation in her father’s eyes; although prepared, she felt her heart aching for him.

Then she felt something warm falling on her right hand. It was Odysseus’ hand. And with that, he dissipated the last bit of her doubt.

Penelope smiled at her father, and just as he smiled back, believing she had chosen her father over her husband, Penelope put down the veil she was wearing.

In a traditional Greek wedding ceremony, a bride always wore a yellowish-red veil, and be carried away by a chariot to the bridegroom’s house. The veil was put down, only to be lifted by the groom in her new house, signaling a process of death and rebirth. It meant she was ready to start a new life with the man she chose.

Icarius stiffened visibly at once.

The moment Icarius recognized the gesture, he knew for sure, that he had really lost his daughter. And it was at the moment, he really began to cry.

“Penelope, promise me you will never forget your old father…” he cried. “Oh, Penelope…Oh, what I have to live for without you? Penelope… my Penelope…”

These words sounded ridiculous to Penelope; and she knew that after a few days, her father would be living his life with his wife and the two boy happily, like nothing had really changed. She was sure of that. But she also knew that at the moment, he spoke of the true feeling in his heart.

After leaving the citadel, they set sail for Ithaca at once. It was the first time for Penelope to board a ship; lucky for her, after the first two days, she began to get over the initial sickness and was able to enjoy the sail.

When the ship came near Ithaca, Odysseus was there beside her to introduce his homeland.

“That’s Ithaca, my home, and now yours too.”

 

Because Odysseus had sent a messenger home first, as they got to the palace, Odysseus’ parents, Laertes and Anticlea, were both there to welcome Penelope.

At first, Penelope felt a bit shy and awkward in front of the king and queen of Ithaca, but she soon found out that they were very different from the royalty of Sparta. They were both down to earth people; the king even looked a little like a farmer.

Odysseus had his father’s frame and square jaw line, his mother’s intelligent eyes…Penelope noted.

They had already prepared for her a separate room in the palace; Penelope, although much obliged, felt a little shy knowing that it could only be from Odysseus’ request.

Truth be told, although she had already thought Odysseus as her husband, she did feel a little uneasy thinking about the consummation of their marriage. What would it be like to make love to him? Would it be very uncomfortable bearing his child, like it was to her stepmother?

In moment like this, Penelope would be real grateful that she had brought Melantho to Ithaca with her, so that she could have someone to talk to.

Melantho was orphaned in a young age and grew up under the help of some relatives until she was sent to Penelope’s house, and thus had grown into a little adult much too early.

“My lady, you are too shy! If you don’t try to make him crazy for you, he’ll be seduced by bad women in the palace!”

Penelope wasn’t sure she’s more shy or embarrassed at moment like this.

“Melantho, don’t talk about things you don’t understand!” she chided shyly.

 

Ithaca was a small state, so the loyalties would participate in the daily activity when needed; when Odysseus was not around, Penelope would focus on her weaving, or taught her skill to the maids in the palace.

Yet as time went by, Penelope became a little unsure about the situation as well.

The first few days when they got to Ithaca, Odysseus spent much time with her, taking her to many places he liked. Every spot, there’s an interesting story about it.

There’s one morning, Odysseus woke her up just after sunrise, and took her to a small farm house near the palace. Under the roof at the front of the house, a hound was suckling six puppies that hadn’t even opened their eyes yet.

“They are…they are so lovely!” Penelope marveled.

Odysseus smiled at her: “They were just born last night.”

“Really? No wonder they are so small…” she felt so very touched, by the lovely scene as well as by the fact that Odysseus would want to take her here to share such moment.

“I want to take one back and train it myself,” Odysseus turned to look at her. “Pick one for me!”

Penelope was surprised. Her old house had kept some sheep and chicken, but she had never had an animal of her own. She crouched before the puppies, observed them one by one, and finally picked one that was all black except for a white, olive shaped spot on its head.

“I shall name it Argos, the shinning one,” Odysseus said and then nuzzled the dog a little.

In Penelope’s eyes, they were equally adorable.

But a few days later, Odysseus began to show up fewer and fewer, sometimes Penelope would not see him for a day or two.

What had gone wrong without her noticing? She asked herself. Was she being too cold like Melantho said? (but didn’t he said they were like-minded and he liked her for that?) Did he perhaps, having a second thought about their marriage?

As if it’s not enough, Melantho had to nag beside her ear all the time…

“Oh, my lady, you have to be more…”

That’s quite enough.

After almost a month passed this way, Penelope finally decided that she couldn’t go on like this. She decided that she would go and ask Odysseus what had happened...or not.

People here treated her well, and her talent was appreciated; there’s no reason why she couldn’t live a good life here… so why was she still feeling unsettled and…empty?

At the end of the first month at Ithaca, Penelope decided to go see little puppy Argos again. Argos would be staying with its mother for another three month before he could be brought to the palace.

But when Penelope got there, she found Odysseus was already there, walking around trying to coax little Argos to run after him.

Penelope had an urge to run away and only stopped herself because she didn’t want to be seen as a coward.

Odysseus soon noticed her, and after only a slightest pause, gave her a brilliant smile. Penelope blinked. And after a second, despite her reason, smiled in return.

“What a coincident! I have something to show you!” Odysseus said.

He took her to a room in the center of the palace. On his face was the smile that belong to a little boy who was about to tell someone his secret; and that made Penelope’s hart race.

“When my great grandfather built this palace, there’s a withered olive tree at the center of the building,” Odysseus began his story again; only this time, he was trying to make the story “theirs.”

He resumed: “he built the building around it, thinking that after the prepared wood were used up, he was going to cut down the olive three for use; and yet, as that day came, he found the olive tree had sprouted again…”

Penelope looked at him, waiting for him to continue.

“My great grandfather was moved by the scene and so he decided to leave a space for it and nurture it back to health…it can’t be seen from the outside, so, it’s a secret that only belongs to the family.”

“Olive tree is the gift of Athena,” she murmured. “She originally gave it to the Athens, but in the end, it became a gift to all the human beings.”

“Exactly,” Odysseus grinned. “And you are her beloved…”

“So as you,” she noted. She knew it when he told her about his encounter with Athena.

“That’s why I think it would be the most appropriate for me to build our new bedchamber at the original spot, and the…” Odysseus actually coughed before continued again: “and our wedding bed on the tree.”

Penelope blushed. So that’s what he had been busying himself doing!

“But, as I said, I would not…”

“I want to see it!” Penelope cut him off.

“Huh?”

“I want to know how you can build a bed on a living tree!”

Odysseus blinked, and after some time, he took her hand in his. “Let’s go see it!”

He opened the door to a commodious room, where a giant olive three stood at the center, and the bed was at the tangle of some tree branches; higher above, some new branches formed an awning like structure.

Penelope walked toward the tree, her face flushed with excitement.

“It’s marvelous!”

She almost kissed Odysseus then and there if not for a middle aged woman who just entered the room.

The woman was carrying a broom with her, and she bowed to Penelope the moment she saw them together.

“Princess, I don’t know you are coming…” her voice was polite but a little rigid.

“Eurycleia, no need to be that formal,” Odysseus waved at her and then turned to Penelope: “She’s my wet nurse Eurycleia…she’s a family too.”

“I know, you just said this room is a secret belong to family.”

Then they smiled at each other, until Eurycleia coughed lightly.

“This room is still a little empty,” Odysseus cocked his head and then turned to Penelope: “Do you need anything? I’ll have Eurycleia brought it here.”

Penelope was about to say that she had everything she needed now, when a thought came to her.

“I’ll bring in my loom later, and it would be nice, if I could have a bag to put my wool…”

“Huh?” Odysseus clearly didn’t get it, but he still let Eurycleia to fetch her a nice one.

After Eurycleia left, he asked: “Do you think of anything else? I can…”

It was then, Penelope reached out and held Odysseus’ hand firmly. Odysseus gone stiff for a second, and quickly turned to her; his eyes filled with surprise.

Penelope lowered her head, barely able to look at Odysseus. When she finally looked up, she saw Odysseus’ smile…and it was the brightest since she knew him. And she thought, how nice it was to be able to make him smile that way…

Then Odysseus kissed her, under the olive tree.

It quickly broke by Eurycleia: “I have brought several bag…”

They quickly separated, but did not let go each other’s hand.

That night, also under the olive tree, their love and marriage was consummated. And ten months later, Telemachus was born.

 

Telemachus was born at early May; as Jun arrived, Penelope was almost fully recovered.

At the end of Jun, there’s the Greek’s Skira festival.

It was dedicated to both Athena and Demeter, held at the end of the agriculture year, symbolizing renewal and growth. And another distinguishing feature about Skira festival was that it was led by a woman, most often the queen.

After their marriage, Laertes and Anticlea had handover more and more work to Odysseus and Penelope, and this year, they had decided let Penelope take the lead.

It was an important day, for it was the first time, most of the Ithaca people would see their future queen.

Penelope wore a formal long dress down to the ankle the color of olive green, it’s a color that’s mellow and beautiful, perfectly setting off her mature body after childbirth.

As she walked out of the Palace, the crowd began to marvel at her elegance.

“They love their future queen; they think they are so lucky…” Odysseus said beside her ear, making the red on her sunburn cheek deepen a notch.

According to the ritual, Penelope carried some branches of the sacred Skiron tree to a small hill on her own.

As Penelope got to the top of the hill, a gust of wind suddenly blew over the top of the olive trees, making the bright patches of sunlight began to jump, dance, and finally converged into a lanky, beautiful feature with glistening golden armor.

Penelope’s eyes glowed immediately; even before the feature turned to her, Penelope was rushing forward with excitement.

Even Athena looked a little shock by the passion.

“Goddess Athena!” Penelope exclaimed with overflowed affection.

Athena had to use a few second to gather herself before she smiled wryly.

“People often boast how they love the gods during sacrifice, but seldom do they really want to see a god or goddess in front of them.”

“But I’m different!” Penelope was panting with the previous effort. “I have been wanting to see you since I was a child.”

“Well, I know that now,” Athena smiled.

But then, Penelope frowned: “I have been hoping to make an apology…”

“There’s no need for that,” Athena said, and after some time, she added: “I’ve been hearing that from your prayer ever since, it had become a little annoying.”

Penelope chuckled shyly.

“But I’m really sorry,” Penelope said again in a near whisper.

“And I’m telling you there’s no need to.”

Athena observed her quietly before she spoke again: “You look…happy.”

“I am happy,” Penelope replied. “and it all thanks to you!”

But this time, Athena did not respond with smile, and Penelope became quiet again.

“Penelope.”

“Yes?”

“Keep on weaving and sewing.”

“Of course I will…”

“It will give you strength…always.”

“Yes…” Penelope tried to ask, but Athena had already dissolved into the sunlight, like she had never been there.

For the following days, Penelope often felt embarrassed by herself. Did she really run toward Athena like little girl? Athena must be laughing at her inwardly!

But at the back of her head, there was something else she did not want to register.

Athena must have known then, what was going to happen. And it was going to blow their life apart…

Chapter 7: Odysseus

Notes:

I’m making something up here…but there’s actually one line in the Odyssey hinting at the fact that every generation in Odysseus’s family would only have one son…

At breakfast table, Calypso was chatty as usual. Lucky for them both, she had a soft, good voice.

Odysseus was absent minded, and stop eating after a while. After a few failed attempt to coax him to eat, Calypso became angry again.

“I’m not the one who need food anyway,” she said coldly.

Odysseus used to be able to sooth her with words; but now, he had lost the energy to do so.

“You know I will not let you go, so why don’t you treat me better? If so, I would be whatever you like…”

“What did I do to deserve such honor, Calypso? I’m just a tired man, broken by the war, wanting to go home at last…”

“It’s too late.” Calypso blurted out angrily.

“What?” Odysseus’s eyes widened.

“I have spent too much time on you,” Calypso bit her lip.

But Odysseus had sensed something.

“Is it because of Poseidon? He asked you not to set me free? Is that all this for…” Odysseus’ voice trembled.

he should have thought of it… Poseidon would not forgive him for blinding his son…

“It’s not just that! I love you!”

But Odysseus was having none of it now. He had waited too long, lose too many.

“The war is preordained by your fellow gods, and I had given ten years of life for it…is that not enough?”

“You have only yourself to blame!”

Then Calypso stormed off, leaving him alone to collect himself…but why should he collect himself? What did it matter now? Even Athena had not appeared in front of him for years. Perhaps she had lost interest in him long ago, finding other interesting humans to fill the emptiness in her limitless life.

He carried a bread with him and walked toward the beach again.

He sat himself on a rock and was looking at the sea, when a small bird landed beside him. A skylark.

Skylark; Calandra.

Even though he had block that specific part of memory off for almost twenty years, and even just the sound of it, provoke something sweet and sour inside him.

Tears came to his eyes, and he gradually begun breathing harder and harder.

The memory about Calandra was so painful that he had to run away and drown himself first in the transaction between other state and then in the warfare.

And he had left Penelope alone to face the pain.

And now he could finally see it clearly, it was because he always chose to escape from the pain that he ended up here, as a pet of a whimsical, child-like goddess.

Calypso was right. It’s his fault from the start.

It was his fault…

 

That was beginning of the second year of he and Penelope’s marriage.

Things could not be better as they were: they had succeeded as king and queen of Ithaca, and their boy Telemachus had been healthy and strong, although the excessive love he received did made him a little soft and prone to tears.

Unlike other state, Ithaca was at a small and poor island, so even as king and queen, he and Penelope still participate in many common affairs such as weaving, farming and trading with other states. That might seem a little disgracing to the other kings and queens, but not to them.

Penelope liked to put her skill to use, and Odysseus was a restless soul who was prone to do things rather than lying languidly on the throne.

That autumn, to collect some debt, Odysseus set sail for a few nearby islands. Those satellite small islands had close connection with Ithaca, and often sought help there when famine or other natural disaster stroke. Laertes often lend them seeds and some food with little interest.

According to the plan, Odysseus would only be leaving for a few months. So although he and Penelope were still sweetly in love, he didn’t feel much pain for the short separation.

Little did he know, Penelope was then already pregnant with their second child…without knowing it herself. Both of them had not thought of that possibility, thinking it was too early, for Telemachus was only a little older than two month then.

Being Penelope, after she discovered, she was too shy to go tell her mother and father in law, but just waited for him to come back, all the while secretly reveling in the thought about what he would react and how the baby was going to look like.

When Odysseus came back, Penelope was already four months pregnant.

It was when Odysseus remembered that there’s an old taboo in the family for the second child. Legend had it that his ancestor was barren, and only after a huge sacrifice that the family was granted by Zeus of one son each generation.

But it was already too late to change anything at the point.

His father chided him for not telling Penelope earlier.

“I thought you have grown up, but you never have…” Laertes’ expression was painful, disappointed.

Odysseus was unwilling to talk about it at all, thinking his father was being unreasonable.

The legend could be interpreted in many ways, such as a son was granted by the god and others could only be charted on luck…

“Yes, it is a way to interpret that. But you didn’t answer my question, why didn’t you tell Penelope?”

Because he didn’t want to. More than that, he deliberately put that out of his mind.

And the reason behind that was he didn’t want their happy marriage to be tinted with anything other than happiness and sweetness…that’s the real reason. But at the point, he would not have admitted that even to himself.

The second child was a beautiful little girl, and they named her Calandra, skylark, for her adorable face and beautiful voice. He did not tell Penelope even then but began to comfort himself that maybe a daughter didn’t count as a betrayal of the ancient promise.

But he couldn’t fool himself. As day went by, and they loved Calandra more and more, the anxiety in his heart began to grow into a web of vines that sprawling through his heart.

“What’s bothering you? You can always tell me, you know,” Penelope asked.

“Nothing,” he tried to laugh it off. “Just thinking life couldn’t be better than we are now.”

Penelope snorted lightly.

“It would be even better when the children grow a little older. I want to see them play together, and I want to teach Calandra weaving…”

Greek had a tradition to hang a ball of wool on the door when a girl was born to the family, and Odysseus secretly took the wool off their door, not even admitting to himself that he was afraid the girl would thus be discovered by gods and be taken from him.

From the start, he was a little dotted on Calandra, to the point Penelope felt she had to speak something for Telemachus.

“Don’t just hold Calandra! Telemachus is going to cry!” Penelope chided as she held up Telemachus from the cradle.

But Odysseus just laughed and placed a kiss on the girl’s cheek. She’s so soft, like a half fermented dough with the smell of milk.

And Calandra was a bold little girl; the first time they let the children be with Argos, their loyal, gentle dog, Telemachus was scared of the big black creature, and sought comfort in his mother’s bosom; but Calandra was giggling and tried to held the dog’s neck by her two small arms.

Odysseus became excited and try to put Calandra on Argos’ back, letting him carry her around the house. Penelope took the girl from Argos’ back and held her firmly in her arms.

“Hey, that’s too dangerous!”

“Argos’ a smart dog, he won’t let her fall down! Right? Argos?”

“Argos, don’t listen to him,” Penelope snorted.

Telemachus’ first word was mama, and they were both watching Calandra closely, waiting for her to utter her first word.

“I think this time, it would be me,” Odysseus ginned.

“Not everything is going your way!” Penelope joked.

But finally, the inevitable happened. Calandra fell ill when she was only three months old; no doctor knew what’s wrong with her.

Both Odysseus and Penelope suffered a heavy blow, but Penelope was much stronger than him.

“We are too use to happiness…difficulty is the normal condition of life. But we can get over this, and Calandra would get well in the end…like you said, our Calandra is a brave little girl.”

But Odysseus had one more reason to feel devastated, and that was his guilt.

His wit had no use at such matter, and he was afraid to let Penelope know about his part in this. It was the first time, Odysseus had to swallow the bitter fruit of a secret all alone by himself. And it was then, he began feeling an invisible wall between him and Penelope.

And it was all because of his foolishness.

The worst of all, which he figured out much, much later, was that because of his avoidance, he let Penelope deal with the worry and sorrow all by herself.

…while he dwelt on his own guilt and fear.

When Calandra’s condition grew worse, Penelope went to the temple of Athena or Asclepius to pray for god’s mercy. Odysseus never went with her. For that, they argued for many times.

“We have to do all we can…”

“I know, I know…I just…I’d rather use the time to be with Calandra,” he didn’t even dare to look Penelope in the eye.

They argued many times.

Until there’s a time, Penelope said quietly.

“Maybe you are right. Maybe the best we can do, is to let her feel as much happiness as possible…”

It was then he knew that even Penelope could not see any hope.

After the death of Calandra, Odysseus grew more distant.

He spent more time in sailing and do business with nearby states. It came natural for him, with his silver tongue and clever brain. He even brought in no small wealth for the poor state.

Every time he’s home, he felt guilt for leaving Penelope alone, but after staying for some time, he would want to get away again.

Penelope didn’t argue but only waiting for him to get over it.

“You have to face it someday. You can’t go on like this…”

He protested that he’s ok, that he’s doing a king’s duty. Even he himself knew better.

Then, during one business journey, he heard the news of the coming war.

Trojan prince Paris had abducted Helen, and now, the kings of Sparta and Maecenas were about to called upon all the states in Greece for a united army, and laughed a war against Troy.

Odysseus’ heart quicken at that. Even though he hadn’t made his name in war, he was trained for battle from childhood. Although he had not thought himself as a warrior, he did, like most of the Greeks, thought about gaining Kleos by his spear.

After he settled down into family life, he thought much less about it. He had believed once, that he would only go to war if Ithaca was in danger. But now…

Odysseus saw in this war an opportunity to get away from the sad memories; he and Penelope had grown distant over the months after Calandra’s death, but if there’s something bigger than them, bigger even than Ithaca, perhaps they could finally get over the tragedy and start over again?

Penelope would not oppose to this decision, as this was a war concerning almost every Greek state. She would understand. Wouldn’t she?

Odysseus went home preoccupied.

Soon, the news had reached Ithaca and then reached the palace. Odysseus tried his best to avoid the inevitable moment. But even before he told Penelope his decision, Odysseus felt that she had already knew. But Penelope didn’t broach it either, but only cast sad, reproachful sight at him from time to time.

One night, Odysseus couldn’t sleep, just like so many nights before.

Odysseus slipped off bed, then out of the bedchamber, sauntering into the garden. Argos, who slept outside the room, was awakened by his footstep, and followed him in silence.

As they walked, Argos suddenly stopped, its face alert, nervous.

“What happened?” Odysseus asked; at the same time, golden light suddenly appeared from midair, like a star fell from sky. After the light disappeared, standing there was none other than the goddess Athena.

Athena was beautiful and awe-inspiring as usual, but her face looked grimmer than ever. Her brows drew near, forming a fold in between, like she was in pain.

“Goddess Athena,” he bowed.

“The war is coming, I assume you have already known it,” Athena said coldly.

“I have,” Odysseus made a sad, wry smile. He wasn’t really bitter on her, but now he could not see Athena as a guardian like before. Maybe he never should...

“And what’s your decision?”

Odysseus frown, sensing something unusual.

“Goddess, may I ask...where do you stand in this war?”

Athena stayed silent for a while; then she narrowed her eyes and tilted her chin, as if to emphasizing her position over humans: “I want you to help Greek win the war.”

Odysseus let out a long breath. “I will go then.”

Athena closed her eyes for a while.

“Good,” she finally said.

Odysseus frowned. That’s very...not Athena.

Although Athena always placed herself as much higher than they sheer humans, he could always feel the humanity in her.

But not now.

What’s more, Athena seemed...conflicted.

“Goddess Athena...don’t you want me to go?”

Athena glared at him: “I had just said...”

“No, I mean...” Odysseus paused for a while, as the answer came to him: “do ‘you’ want me to go?”

He gave a special emphasis on the word “you.”

Athena went stiff at that.

For a long while, they stood there, looking at each other in a strange, cold impasse.

“This war had been preordained by the gods together, and you will play an important part in it.”

“Then, why do you look so...”

“You ever thought about Penelope?” Athena demanded.

“I…”

“No, forget about it,” Athena cut him off harshly. “There’s no point of going into it now. It simply has to be this way.”

Odysseus frown, confused. “Goddess…”

Athena interrupted again: “And I need you to recruit the greatest warriors, especially the prince of Phthia, Achilles... he should be the deadliest weapon on the Greek side…”

After the conversation with Athena, Odysseus went back to his room with his heart even heavier than before.

Just as he was about to get into bed, Penelope slowly sat up from the bed. Odysseus stiffened, frozen in place.

“You have made your decision?” Penelope asked quietly. There’s a sad smile on her face, and in her eyes, there were tears glistening in the moonlight.

“I…” Odysseus lowered his head and swallowed thickly.

You are such a coward, he heard himself said. You don’t even have the courage to tell her that you are leaving her…

Penelope made a long, soft sighed. “Odysseus…”

“Penelope, I…”

“Odysseus, I’m sorry you have to go through this…”

Odysseus frozen again. This was not how things should go…

“But this…Calandra…It can’t be changed…” Penelope chocked.

The moment Odysseus heard the name of his daughter, he immediately cringed inside; he could almost hear his heart screaming for the shelter of oblivion.

“Penelope, I’m sorry…I…I’m going to Troy…”

Penelope said nothing but turned away from him; Odysseus knew she was trying to hide her tears from him.

“I’m sorry…” Odysseus was near sobbing now.

“Odysseus,” Penelope whispered after a while. “Do you still love me?”

Odysseus jolted.

“Of course!” Odysseus’ voice strangled. “I have never stop loving you since the day I asked you to come to Ithaca with me...”

Penelope sighed again.

“Penelope…” Odysseus tried his best to get through to Penelope. But somehow, the invisible wall was still there.

He had born with a special talent for words; when he chose his word, he could almost sense the right one glistening with golden sheen in front of his eyes. And this, this was the first time, he felt all the words before him were gray, hollow. He had never felt this powerless in his whole life.

“Penelope, please believe me…I love you, and I will go back to you…” Odysseus said as he reached out to hold Penelope’s hands. “I will go back from Troy for you…and we’ll pick up what we have left…I promise…”

When all the words failed him, Odysseus let loose Penelope’s hand and began to weep in a small, broken voice.

After a while, he felt Penelope’s hand caressing his hair gently.

“I promise I’ll come back, Penelope,” he said again. And still, Penelope did not answer.

Chapter 8: Penelope

Penelope walked away from the window and back to her table.

She picked up the letter and opened it. As she had predicted, her brothers claimed to be her one and only true family, urging her to go home...with her dowry.

It was ridiculously funny at times.

Especially when they talked about how amazing a young man Telemachus had become, how he had missed his mother…

…when Telemachus had never set foot on Sparta.

Penelope’s thought went back to three years ago. It had become painfully clear to the people of Ithaca that their king, if he’s alive at all, must have suffered some terrible fate that hindered his homecoming. And so did all the warriors he had brought with him…which also meant so many husbands and fathers might never be able to come back.

Ithaca was a poor state at first, and for so many years be deprived of its central human forces in farming and fishing, it was teetering on the edge of broken now. Not to mention the fact the so many people had been holding on to the thinning hope of seeing their loved ones again, that they put their lives on halt like living deads.

Their lives had been wasting away in waiting, and they refused to accept the fact that their suffering had not received any compensation.

Penelope had never given up on weaving; but with all lands of Greece had lost their majority of men of productivity, selling delicate, high quality brocade was not easy. And so the whole state remained poor and stagnant.

At the end of the sixth year since the end of the war with Troy, the suitors appeared at the palace. They declaimed that Odysseus was dead and Penelope a widow, and that the right thing to do, was for her to take a new husband.

At first, Penelope tried to reason with them; but it soon become clear that these men who were not much older than her Telemachus was not the kind, gentle farm boys she thought them to be, but a bunch angry youths that believed they were here to claim their birth right: a life being served and pampered like their father used to enjoy.

They threw lurid, dirty words at her; Penelope could take it and pretend nothing had happened, but not Telemachus. That poor boy who was a little soft since childhood tried to confront those rude, arrogant young men, demanding they showed some respect toward their queen…only to be jeered at ruthlessly. A few times, they almost physically bullied Telemachus if she did not step in and used the remaining of her authority to make them back down temporarily.

But if it went on long enough, the conflict would surely escalate. When the day came, what would they do to Telemachus?

Penelope came up with the idea of telling them she was told by gods in her dream that she should finished her father in law Laertes’ shroud before accepting another marriage. They agreed, and Penelope began to repeat what she had done before when she was waiting for Odysseus: she sewed the shroud at day and teared it apart in the night.

But that soon failed…because her strategy had been betrayed to the suitors by her closest maid, Melantho.

She almost couldn’t believe it when she first found out.

When asked why she betrayed her, Melantho sneered at her face.

“Betray you? That’s funny coming from the person who pushed me into a pact of wolfs!”

Penelope was stunned. Cold sweats trickled down her neck.

“What do you mean…” but she knew the moment she heard it.

“One of them raped me. If I don’t agree to be his lover, he would let others do that to me too…” Melantho gritted her teeth, the muscle on her face twitched a little.

Penelope had to close her eyes to fend of the dizziness.

How could she have not thought of it before? Those suitors didn’t even respect her; how could she expect them to respect Melantho?

And did she really never see that coming? Or did she just not want to think about that possibility?

Melantho didn’t relent. There’s no doubt that in the whole tragedy, Penelope was the one who she hated the most. And could Penelope really blame Melantho?

Melantho kept on tossing out spears with both her eyes and her mouth: “And you don’t even know how many of us had been deflowered…do you?”

That was the heaviest blow she had suffered since the day Odysseus left her for Troy…

 

Penelope ran all the way toward a small lake behind the palace.

She really hated herself at the point; she even hated her tears.

Now she could see it clearly: during these years, she had only focused on her own sadness, her own tragedy. Melantho was the one who had known her the longest; she should have treated her like the daughter she lost. Instead, like Melantho said, she pushed her to a pact of wolfs...

And it perhaps started long before she realized.

Did this kind of self-indulging sadness started even before Odysseus left? Did she somehow help pushing Odysseus out of her life by her sadness?

She didn’t think about tossing herself into the water…not really; it’s just…she needed to get away from all of these, and water seemed to be a good place to seek solace.

Just as she was staring blankly at the lake, the water suddenly began to rippled with golden lights.

Penelope blinked, but did not turn to find the one she wanted so desperately to see. After a while, she whispered: “Goddess Athena, you don’t have to worry about me. I’m not planning to drown myself.”

“I know,” the familiar, much desired voice echoed in the air. “It would be foolish for the daughter of a lake nymph to try to drown herself in the water.”

Penelope turned toward that voice, confused: “What?”

Athena stood beside her; her awe-inspiring beautiful face for once looked sorrowful.

“Your mother didn’t die, she just…went back to where she used to live. Neither gods, nor goddesses are suitable to be parents, I’m afraid.”

“My father…he had never told me that…” Penelope murmured, temporarily distracted. But she didn’t doubt for a second about what Athena had told her. “Do you…do you know my mother? Goddess Athena?”

Athena shook her head: “But I know one of her kind dearly.”

Dearly? She wasn’t expecting that. A little nymph, and one of the most powerful deity?

“How?” Penelope blurted out, a little louder than she intended.

Athena gave her a wry smile: “You are a curious one, aren’t you?”

…even at such circumstances, seemed to be the words she didn’t utter.

Penelope blushed a little.

“I suppose…it’s because you are here. And that…I know now…that you haven’t forgot about us,” she didn’t want to sound like she was complaining, but she supposed she was complaining a little.

“Don’t cry, Penelope,” Athena sighed. And that’s when Penelope knew she had lost control over her tears.

“I’m fine…” she lowered her head to wipe away her tears. Athena sighed again.

“Her name was Pallas,” Athena suddenly said.

“The nymph?”

“Yes. People say I was born fully armed…that’s not true, or it’s only true figuratively. When I jump out of my father’s head, I was wild, untamed, feisty. The gods didn’t like me, many even suggested to my father that he should not keep a daughter with such dubious origin. So my father sent me away from Mt. Olympus… to protect me.”

Penelope frowned, but did not interrupt.

“And that’s when I was adopted by the nymphs at Lake Tritonis…a group of nymphs with warlike nature,” Athena lifted one corner of her mouth. “I wasn’t accepted from the beginning, though. I was proud, and perhaps a little whiny.”

Penelope was surprised by the wording, but dared not interrupt.

“I missed the life on the Olympus, and I believed my father would come to take me back very soon…I thought I was daughter to the most powerful god, and didn’t think much of any gods or goddess on the Olympus, let alone a group of nymphs.”

“What happened then?” Penelope’s eyes widened.

“Well, their leader Tritonis finally couldn’t stand me, and charged me into a fight, saying that I couldn’t even beat a nymph who I despised.”

“And she beat you?”

“Yes, she beat me…and don’t try to cover up, I saw you smile already,” Athena shook her head.

After a brief pause, Athena continued: “I was furious, and I wanted to fight again, and immediately. But Tritonis sneered at me, saying that I wasn’t qualified to fight her. I became even more furious. But I wanted to win back, so I learn all the skills of both armed and hand to hand bombast from the nymphs. In no time, I could beat all the nymphs with ease, except one young nymph, and that was Pallas, daughter of Tritonis. We became friends through fighting, and for a long time, we were equally matched.”

“That is…hard to imagine,” Penelope ventured.

“At that point, I wasn’t so keen on defeat all of them anymore. I knew even though I had intrinsic great power, I could still learn from them. And that was when I was really accepted as one of them…” Athena lowered her head: “That’s before I killed Pallas by mistake in a friendly match…”

Penelope let out a small yelp, unprepared for such a twist.

“Gods cannot really be killed, she just faded away into a thinner existence. So I carved a wooden statue of her, to preserve her existence…” Athena sighed. “I don’t know if that’s going to bring her back one day, nobody had ever done that. But I just didn’t want to give up…”

“Goddess Athena…”

Athena cut her off: “I’m saying this because I wanted to tell you, even I have my limit.”

Penelope shuddered: “You mean, you mean Odysseus is…”

“No,” Athena shook her head. “He’s alive. But the situation is complicated.”

Athena paused for a while, her face twisted a little, like she was about to talk about something painful.

Penelope sucked in a breath.

“After the war, I had been forbidden to interfere with the matter of human beings for a while…”

Penelope blinked. How could this have happened? But she didn’t ask…because she could see the distress and humiliation of Athena just by mentioning this.

“Because of my half-brother, another of my father’s mortal son, Sarpedon, was killed by the Greeks, my father wanted to take revenge, to make trouble at their home coming.”

Penelope was speechless. There’s many warriors lost at sea for many year, like Menelaus, or murdered on the hand of his family at his homecoming, like Agamemnon… but she never suspected it had anything to do with the king of gods himself…

“We argued a few times, and finally he decided to ban me from all the affairs concerning humans…” Athena there’s deep frown on her face, like she’s still feeling the pain: “I had to watch them rape Cassandra in my temple, hear her screaming for my help…”

Penelope could feel her tears came back again.

How could this have happened? How could anyone treat Athena…her beloved Athena like this?

“Penelope, don’t cry…” Athena sighed again.

That’s when Penelope knew she lost control over her tears again.

“I’m not…”

Athena shook her head with a sad smile on her face.

“We quickly reconciled. The punishment only lasted a few year…a blink to me as you can imagine. But what happened during those years changed everything.”

Penelope let out a trembling breath.

“During those years, Odysseus had angered Poseidon, one of the most powerful gods. And even I cannot extricate Odysseus from his power.”

“Then...” Penelope lowered her head, her tears fell into the lack, creating mall ripples.

“But if the nymphs of Lake Tritonis had taught me anything other than combat skills, that is the strong doesn’t always beat the weak. When time comes, I trust Odysseus would seize the chance.”

Penelope looked at Athena, finally revealing all her weakness: “But I’m trapped here. All those around me are my enemies. I have no one I can trust now…”

“What about Sparta?”

“Sparta? I don’t trust my brothers; I’m afraid they valued my dowry more than their sister. And even if I can trust them, there’s no way I can send a message to them for help with all those suitors waiting like wolf surrounding sick sheep…” Penelope bit her lower lip to stop it from trembling. “And what worries me most is that if they begin to see Telemachus as a hinder, they’ll kill him for sure!”

Penelope lose control again; after such a long time suffering alone, and now she’s finally able to talk so someone…

Athena let her weep for a while before she spoke again: “I think you should send a message to Sparta, telling them Telemachus is coming.”

“You want me to send Telemachus to Sparta? But…”

“No,” Athena interrupted. “Poseidon is out for vengeance; Telemachus might not be safe on the sea.”

“But you just said…”

“Like you said, your brother would most likely want you to take your dowry back to Sparta; so even if Telemachus don’t get to Sparta…”

“You think they’ll lie to me, and if the suitors intercept the message, they’ll be fooled into trust Telemachus has really be at Sparta?” Penelope’s eyes glistened. “That’s brilliant!”

Athena gave her a wry smile, making Penelope blushed a little.

“But, where should I send Telemachus?”

“My advice is, hide him in the lowest people in Ithaca...they’ll never think of their prince hiding somewhere dirty and poor…”

Penelope became worried again: “But...Telemachus has been a soft kid since he was born…”

“Remember what I told you about my experience at the Lake Tritonis?”

Penelope nodded.

“I would not have grown into who I am now, if I wasn’t completely beaten down when I was with the nymphs.”

Penelope hesitated, but finally gave a nod with tears in her eyes.

 

And so she did as they secretly planned, using the greed of her brothers as a cover, and send Telemachus to live with Eumaeus, the loyal swineherd.

She told Eumaeus to call Telemachus as his son should everybody asked.

Telemachus of course protested vehemently. But Penelope stood firm on the ground.

“The most important thing is to survive this, until the day your father back to Ithaca…”

Finally, with tears in his eyes, Telemachus went with Eumaeus.

From then on, three years had already passed...

Penelope was still waiting for the day, when Odysseus came back to Ithaca...

Notes:

I came upon the story about Athena and Pallis by accident when I was doing some research for this fanfic; and although it’s not exactly close related to the main story line, I love it so much that I couldn’t help but mentioning it a little…

And the part of Penelope be daughter of a water nymph is mentioned in many books of Greek mythology. i just link the two facts together...

Chapter 9: Odysseus

It was another day at Calypso’s island.

Odysseus opened his eyes, but did not feel refreshed. Days on the Ogygia island had no meaning to him other than making him feel a little more withered than the day before.

Thinking about time only deepened him despair… how could he hope to make Calypso, an immortal goddess understand what time meant to a human being?

But what Odysseus didn’t know was that changed had already befallen on this small island; he just hadn’t find out yet.

 

As Odysseus walked toward the beach of Ogygia, he suddenly heard sounds of fighting.

But how could it be? Other than animals, here in this island were only him and Calypso; unless…

Odysseus’ breath caught as the possibility came to him. He quickly reacted by hiding himself behind the bushes near the beach and then moving gingerly toward the source of the two voices. First voice, the child-like, angry one, belonged to no other than Calypso; the second one, a male’s voice, seemingly calm and at ease, belonged to a young man. But since the island was under Calypso’s magic, Odysseus knew this could not be a normal human being.

Sure enough, the young man soon revealed his identity in front of Calypso in no time.

“Calypso, this human is never meant to be yours. He might seem powerless to you, but he’s a hero in the war, and is blessed by the powerful goddess Athena…”

Odysseus’ heart quicken at that. Athena! She did not forget about him after all! But why only now? After so many years?

“Athena!” Calypso gritted her teeth. “She the worst!”

“Huh?” the young man acted naively. “Why? I kind of like her.”

“She want to be seen as a god other than a goddess; she rejects the pleasure of love, so she doesn’t want me to have that either!”

“Ah, that’s a nice try,” the young man looked impressed, like he didn’t think Calypso was capable of any deep thinking. “I have never thought of things that way.”

“Don’t play games with me,” Calypso glared at him. “What’s in it for you, Hermes?”

Odysseus was more excited now. Hermes? He’s the messenger of Zeus! Did Athena finally persuade Zeus to intervene?

“Nothing, I’m just a messenger,” Hermes smiled at Calypso. His tone was easy, but it was clear from his tone that he treated Calypso as a child rather than his equal.

“Then I’ll just pretend I didn’t hear that,” Calypso said darkly.

Hermes sighed and cocked his head at her: “Calypso, things don’t work that way…”

“This is my island; And you don’t get to decide what way things should work,” Calypso was flushing red now.

“But you see, it’s not me who make the decision...” Hermes said with a rueful smile.

Calypso refused to be placated; if anything, she’s even angrier.

“Then you can try to take him away,” Calypso grinned, her blood red lips made Odysseus’ skin crawl.

Why wasn’t Calypso afraid of two of the most powerful deities? It didn’t make sense.

Hermes was still calm, but the smile on his face had completely disappeared now.

“Calypso, your name means hiding…and you have a special power to hide things within a range. That’s why nobody can find him in these years…”

Odysseus was startled. He immediately looked down at his hands…he couldn’t be found? He’s under Calypso’s magic the whole time?

The feeling of being left alone by the rest of the world was not an illusion after all!

“You!” Calypso stared.

“Actually, it’s Athena who figured this out...”

“If Athena wants him for herself, she’s welcome to try,” Calypso said darkly.

“You are really confident,” Hermes noted.

Calypso said nothing but sneered at him.

“You are so confident, because you are empowered by Poseidon, right?”

Calypso panicked, but only for a short while.

“I don’t know what you are talking about.”

“Ah, Calypso, Calypso…I actually appreciate that attitude. But have you ever thought about the consequence? Yes, Zeus and Athena might not want to confront Poseidon, but do you think Poseidon would stand for you if they came at you?”

Calypso’s face went pale as sheep.

“You! You gods are all a bunch of bullies!”

“Well, that is at least partly true. But tell me this, Calypso: isn’t Odysseus equally powerless in front of you?” Hermes pointed out. “Aren’t you just doing what many gods had done to you before?”

“What do you understand about that? Get out of my island!” Calypso yelled at him.

Hermes sighed.

Odysseus was now yelling like crazy in his mind. NO, NO, NO, NO, NO…DON’T GO! DON’T GO!

But Hermes had already turned away and walked away. Odysseus followed him in trot.

Hermes was famous for his speed, so there’s no way Odysseus could catch up with him if he didn’t have something in mind…the thought gave Odysseus courage.

Yet, as he came near Hermes, he found no sign of recognition on Hermes’ face.

Was this what it meant by being hidden?

Odysseus rushed forward to shake the trees violently, making a lot of leaves falling from the tree. That got Hermes to stop.

“Odysseus? King of Ithaca, you are here, right?” Hermes asked.

Odysseus nodded like crazy. But still Hermes didn’t seem to be able to perceive his existence.

“Odysseus, listen to me if you are here…Athena has not given up on you, but you have to get out of this Island by yourself.”

“How?” Odysseus yelled before Hermes, but Hermes’ face was unchanged.

“And you have to be quick,” Hermes tossed out another blow in silence. “Poseidon is out to receive a big sacrifice; he would not be watching over you for the rest few days. Athena has been waiting for this opportunity for a long time…once you leave this place, all help would come to you….”

“How?” Odysseus began to grab at his hairs, to scratch the tree, and finally sank down on the ground and hit the earth repeatedly with his fists. “How can I leave here? Tell me! Tell me!”

He was crying hard like a maniac…he just couldn’t, couldn’t stand to lose the freedom that was so, so, so close to him...

He had been losing those things, all those qualities that he had been proud of...all those that made him who he was. If he continued to be trapped here, soon he would lose himself and became a husk, an animal...

Finally, when he realized there’s no way to let Hermes see or hear him, he began to weep.

“Odysseus…” Hermes began again.

Odysseus looked up, tears all over his face now.

“Odysseus, don’t give up. Your wife and son have waited you in dire situation…”

Odysseus grit his teeth.

“And this,” Hermes squatted down to place something on the ground. “This is the hint Athena gives you.”

After that, Hermes stood up, turned and walked into midair, and then dissolved into the air.

Odysseus quickly scrambled toward the spot, and saw on it only a fruit of olive.

 

An Olive. What did it mean by an olive? For the rest of the day, Odysseus stared at the olive hard, until his eyes felt sore. His brain was working so fast that his head ache.

What could an olive mean?

Of course its Athena’s gift for mankind, but it couldn’t mean he should just lie there waiting for Athena.

Athena used olive tree as a gift and beat Poseidon, and was thus chosen by the Athens as their Guardian Goddess, so it could also mean that wisdom would triumph over violence. But that was too vague and too useless.

Athena couldn’t just leave it to him as a mental prop, could she?

In the night, Odysseus carefully stashed it in the closet, afraid that it would be discovered by Calypso.

The next morning, he slept out of bed and retrieved the olive; but to his horror, it had already begun to rot.

“Why? Why is that? What had gone wrong?”

Odysseus felt an urge to scream, to demand an explanation.

Then it occurred to him…

There’s nothing wrong. It was exactly how things should be. After its maturity, olive fruits leave the tree; it would rot after a few days, but if put in the earth, it would grow into a new olive tree.

Death, before rebirth.

 

A few hours afterward, Calypso couldn’t find Odysseus in the usual place he’s at.

Being Calypso, she became panic immediately. She began crying and cursing as she ran through every corner of the Ogygia island.

Until finally, she found Odysseus on a cliff.

“What are you doing?” Calypso demanded.

Odysseus didn’t answer; he just looked at the sea, hundred miles down below.

“You!” Calypso was angry. “You had heard what the bastard said, right?”

“Yes,” Odysseus answered without emotion, like he wanted nothing from her or this world anymore.

“And you are now trying to provoke me, breaking my heart again, right?”

“No.”

“Then why are you…”

“I just realized that there’s no hope for me to escape here now…”

“That’s why you should stay here happily with me…” Calypso took a step forward.

“No. there’s nothing for me in this world anymore…”

Calypso finally got it. But instead of worry, she became even more angry: “You are threatening me! You…you dirty human!”

That was so Calypso.

“Yes I am a dirty human, and you will live a better live without me.”

“This is one of your dirty tricks, isn’t it?”

“No, I’m really going…at least this way, I have a chance to reunited with my wife and my son in the underworld…”

“No! No!” Calypso was cursing and stamping her foot at the same time: “I don’t believe you, and I will not be threatened by a dirty human being! I, I ...”

That’s when Odysseus sighed, and made the final leap that he had hoped to avoid…

He had fallen down in a horrible speed; his heart was racing like crazy, and he almost screamed…he knew if Calypso didn’t do something, he would be dead at the moment he hit the water…

But then, Odysseus felt he had been surrounded by a soft membrane. It did not pull him up, but at least it protected him as he fell into the sea.

Odysseus struggled in the water, until he finally lost conscious…

 

“Who are you, stranger?” a child’s, soft voice said beside Odysseus’ ear.

Odysseus opened his eyes and saw a young girl before him. She had brown eyes and dark hair like his little girl Calandra.

“Where…where am I…who…who are you?”

“I’m Nausicaa, princess of Scheria. Don’t worry, you are in a land of xenos!”

 

Scheria was a small island state, and the people here called themselves Phaeacians. The Phaeacians seemed to be nice enough people, if a little wary of strangers.

Odysseus was taken into the palace, and put to rest in a small but comfortable room.

He had so many things to ask, but his relieve was so deep that the tiredness in him had all come to the surface. He couldn’t fight it; so he just let himself drift into sleep…

He didn’t know how much time had passed, when he heard someone calling his name.

“Odysseus? Odysseus?”

Odysseus opened his eyes, and saw Hermes standing beside his bed. Startled, Odysseus quickly scrambled out of bed.

“God Hermes, I...”

But the god of message only smiled: “I know you are going to make it. And so does Athena.”

“I thank you both. But why...”

“Athena is hosting the sacrifice with Poseidon and some of the most powerful deities. If she came here by herself, Poseidon would most likely notice her plan.”

Odysseus nodded agreement.

“Before you come back to Ithaca, I think there’s something you need to know…”

Then Hermes proceeded to tell him about the suitors and how they were causing damages to his homeland.

Odysseus had recognized that these were all consequences of his decision to take his men to Troy, but at the moment, he could not think beyond how Penelope must have suffered and struggled because of these insolent people...

“And to protect your son Telemachus, Penelope had sent him to live with Eumaeus, the loyal swineherd,” Hermes told him.

Odysseus was surprised to know that his son was now living with a swineherd; in his mind, Telemachus was a dependent child, smart but always a little on the soft side. It was heart-breaking just to imagine; he was born a prince, but now had to live as a swineherd…

When Odysseus thought about his long lost son, a familiar pain stroke him again; in the past twenty years, for thousands of times he had thought about how Telemachus would grow to be; and every time he would feel like he had lost that part of him forever...

“And here, I shall give you two things,” Hermes said.

Odysseus looked up in surprise.

Hermes took out two small bottles and lifted a white one in front of Odysseus: “this bottle is a gift from Athena; it contained a magic potion that can make you 20 years older for a couple of days. She figures it would come in handy when you are back to Ithaca.”

Odysseus took the bottle with both hands and murmured in awe: “Thank you, goddess…”

“And,” Hermes suddenly made a mischief smile. “This black one is my personal gift.”

Odysseus blinked.

Hermes winked at him before continued: “Mine is less useful, but I think you deserve it...”

“May I ask what does it do?”

“You do know my specialty including sleep, don’t you?”

Odysseus instinctively guessed it was a potion for insomnia.

But the answer surprised him again.

“This, can let you meet the one you most desired in dream…”

Odysseus’ eyes widened at once. Not only that, he felt his whole body was overheated, restless.

“God Hermes, I don’t know how to thank you…”

“Well, you do know your grandfather Autolycus and I are old friends, right?”

Odysseus nodded. Autolycus did mention that to him a few times.

“It’s a good time he and I had together…I think there would not be another person like him for hundreds of years.”

“I sure think not,” Odysseus had to smile at that.

 

After Hermes left the room, Odysseus drank the black bottle in one gulp and lay on the bed. Before long, the sweet darkness of sleep enveloped him, and he was soon out cold…

Then suddenly, he was back to his bedchamber in Ithaca.

The table, the chair, they were all the same; he took a step forward, and bumped into something at his waist. He lowered his head, and saw it was Penelope’s loom. He immediately stopped to support it, afraid to damage Penelope’s precious loom.

Yet as he looked further on the ground, he found the floor was covered by olive leaves. He looked up, and found the treetop half withered. That was not right, he thought. Penelope liked to keep the chamber beautiful and orderly; even if she was too sad to tidy the room up, she would not let it go untended to this degree. Then he remembered, this was only a dream. In Penelope’s dream world, the tree guarded over their love had already withered, half dead.

And it might have begun before he left for Troy.

Odysseus continued to walk toward the bed beneath the olive tree, where the person most familiar to him was lying…

Penelope was lying on her side, eyes closed, breathing evenly. She was thinner, and she looked more mature now, but she’s still beautiful in his eyes.

Odysseus knelt before her bed, and slowly reached out to touch her face. Penelope trembled lightly, which made her looked vulnerable.

Penelope frowned, and her eyelids began fluttered quickly, before she finally opened her eyes. At first, they were bleary, dreamy; slowly, they found focus on Odysseus, but Penelope wasn’t startled. Not at all. She simply made a long sigh.

After a short confusion, Odysseus recognized, it’s because she had dreamed about this for many times by now.

“Penelope, it’s me, Odysseus…” he almost choked on his own words.

“I know,” Penelope answered, her voice dreamy.

“No, it’s me, it’s really me…”

Penelope looked at him, seemingly a little lost.

“Penelope,” he whispered as he stroked Penelope’s face with his fingers; he placed his thumb at Penelope’s lips, feeling the very soft, sensitive tissue. “It’s your dream, but I’m the real Odysseus…”

Penelope blinked, her intelligent eyes lingered on his face, like she was caressing him with her sight.

“It’s hard to explain, and I don’t know how long this magic can last…” his voice became a little urgent. “But I’m your husband Odysseus, and I’m coming back to you…”

Penelope blinked again, but this time, her eyes began to clear up; and then, tears began to well up, creating a layer of watery lights.

“Odysseus…”

“Yes, it’s me. And I’m coming home…” he was on the verge of sobbing…

“Odysseus…” Penelope whispered again. It was uttered like a sigh.

“Believe me, it’ll just be a little longer for my eventual home coming…”

Penelope suddenly became alert.

“Odysseus, it’s not safe here…” she began to say.

“I know, Athena had warned me about that…and I promise I would come prepared…”

Penelope let out a sigh of relieve, and now, finally they really looked at each other in the eyes.

A little awkwardness was between them, like a dike pushing the water back and back and back, until it simply couldn’t hold it anymore…

“Penelope, I’m so sorry…”

Penelope closed her eyes, making Odysseus feel his heart arrested.

“Odysseus, you have made some mistake, but I suppose I have made some mistake as well…”

“No, Penelope! It’s me…”

But Penelope cut him off: “I know it’s hard for you to accept Calandra’s death, but as you escape from pain, you blocked out those good memories as well…”

“Yes, I can see that now…” Odysseus felt tears fall down from his eyes; some of them arrived 20 years late.

“I had never told you, although I might not make the same decision if I could choose again, I do not regret about it.”

Odysseus jolted, knowing that Penelope had found out the whole truth somehow.

But that didn’t seem to matter right now.

“Penelope…I miss you. I miss Telemachus. And I miss Calandra…”

“I miss her too,” Penelope wept.

“And…” Penelope began again: “I hadn’t told you something…Calandra had spoken her first word just a few days before Hades took her…and that was ‘papas,’ that was you…”

Odysseus collapsed on the mattress, finally letting out all the sorrow inside him.

Penelope stroke his back slowly, tenderly.

After a while, Odysseus lifted up his head, and they reached out and sought for each other’s warmth. It was warm and good, just like so many years ago.

Then they both wept, in each other’s arms…