I'll become your monster

by Hopeater

Summary:

Calypso curses Penelope, and pushes Odysseus' strange partnership with the God of the Sea to a point of no return.

Notes:

The Olympus party fic is an even bigger fucking monsters than this one, so uh. *Throws this at you guys and run.*

Chapter 1: Breaking Point

It didn’t start as anything big. Thankfully, it never gets the chance to become big.

Odysseus is the first one to notice, of course. He’s helping Penelope do her hair up, in the bun she favors, and can’t help but remark on it. “The grey’s really starting to come in.” He noted. “Especially in the back.” Ah, that would explain why she hadn’t really noticed. “I think it’s thinning, too?”

At the time, she had just snorted. “Remind me that I’m aging, why don’t you?”

“No, no! It’s good.” Odysseus protested, a smile on his face as he kissed the back of her neck.. “Just something new of you I get to love~” He purred against her skin. “Like how new moles keep appearing on your skin, or your stretch marks from carrying our son, or the calluses on your fingers from your brilliant ploy of undoing the shroud-”

“Alright, you mean flatterer~” Penelope cut off, a smile on her face as she turned around to kiss him properly. “You made your point~”

He’s not nearly as flattering for the second symptom he finds.

“Is everything alright, Penelope?” Odysseus asked over dinner. “You’ve barely eaten for the past three days.”

At the time, Penelope had blinked at the question. She then realized that yes, she hadn’t eaten in a while. She frowned, hesitating. “I’m just… not that hungry lately. I feel fine, however.” She simply dismissed, not wanting to worry Odysseus and Telemachus. And because it was the truth. “Just a bit tired.”

“Do you want me to get you something lighter?” He asked her, clearly worried.

“Maybe tomorrow?” Penelope proposed, smiling. “I tend to be hungrier in the morning.” Odysseus hesitantly nodded, turning back toward his own meal. Penelope did the same, taking a few slow bites to reassure her son and husband, and ignored the way the food hurt her teeth and tasted like ash in her mouth.

Telemachus is the next to notice something is wrong. She’s watching him train alone in the courtyard, sitting in the shade. He’s training alone, merely practicing his stances. He turns toward her, smiling brightly. The kind of smile his father used to have. She smiles back. “You’re doing great, son!”

Telemachus put down his training spear, and walked up to her. “Thanks, mom.” He thanked as he sat down next to her, putting his head on her shoulder. Offhandedly, she notices how pale her skin is compared to his, and she blinks. His complexion has always been closer to her’s than his father’s, when did she get this pale-? “Have you ever thought about learning how to fight?”

She blinked. “What?”

“It’s how aunt Ctimene dealt with her hoard of suitors.” Telemachus started explaining, and Penelope knew it to be true. Odysseus and Ctimene had been very close as children, to the point that their parents had accepted to train her in combat since Odysseus refused to learn otherwise. When suitors came for her and Same, she kicked them out within the year, threatening untold violence if they tried infringing on Eurylochus’ kingdom again.

Considering no one had tried anything since, despite how Eurylochus was now confirmed to be quite dead, Penelope couldn’t argue with the result. “I suppose…”

“Plus, warriors from Sparta are pretty intense, right?” He pressed on, blinking owlishly at her.

She chuckled. “Just because I’m Spartan doesn’t mean I have any interest in the ways of fighting.” She explained.

“Still.” Telemachus pressed on. “Just… in case you need it. If father or myself aren’t there, and are unable to protect you…”

Penelope smiled softly. “Alright. I suppose letting you show me a thing or two won’t hurt.” She acquiesced, and her heart warmed when she saw him beam. He got up, offering her a hand up, and she takes it, her skin cold against his.

But then, they walk out into the sun’s light, and it hits Penelope’s eyes so bad she swoons. She groans, pained, her eyes feeling like they’re on fire and like someone is hammering a blade through her skull. She can vaguely hear Telemachus yell out, before her son catches her. She’s brought back to the shade, and laid down on the bench.

When she opens her eyes again, Telemachus is kneeling by her side. “Mother?” He asks her, his voice small and trembling. “What happened?”

“I’m… not sure.” Penelope answered, slowly sitting up. “I went into the sun and just… started hurting.”

Telemachus frowned in concern. “Do you want to go back inside?” His concerns about her needing to know self-defense seem so small, suddenly…

Penelope nodded, letting her son pull her up again. “Yes, let’s.” She smiled at him, trying to bury the weakness. “Maybe you can teach me self-defense another day?” She proposed, and took Telemachus’ reassuring smile as a positive answer.

The servants are told of what happened and ordered to be gentle with her, Odysseus dotes on her for the next three days, and she starts limiting her exposure to the sun’s light. She can’t deny being sick anymore, but she doesn’t think it's anything to be concerned about. That it’ll pass on its own, like a cold.

Things come to a head with Amphitrite. She’s weaving at her loom, the goddess is stringing beads and pearls on the bed. Or at least, Penelope is trying to weave. Her hands are shaking, unsteady, frustrating her as she tries to work.

She hears some shuffling behind her, and feels something slide around her neck. She looks down, and hums at the necklace of pearlescent little stars that Amphitrite is putting on her. She’d been doing that a lot, gifting Penelope the jewelry she makes in their time together. “Are those actual pearls, or beads made to look like them?”

“Real pearls.” Amphitrite answered, clasping the necklace. “In case you’re feeling for more… whimsical looks, shall we say.”

“My age is starting to show, I’m afraid.” Penelope informed the goddess, a light smile on her face as she turned to look at her. “The nobles of Ithaca would believe me a madwoman if I started dressing whimsically. ”

“A treasure to add to your treasury, then.” Amphitrite purred. “Or perhaps a gift for your future daughter-in-law. Or future daughter, you and your husband certainly seem to be trying.”

“Oh, I doubt it on that second one.” Penelope started, shaking her head. “Apparently, both my husband and I have fertility issues, and-” She yawned, the sound loud and overpowering. I’m so tired… “- and Telemachus’ pregnancy was hard on me. The midwife and doctors outright called the fact that I could still have children after giving birth a blessing from the gods, and recommended that we not have more children.” She finished.

Amphitrite blinked. “Are you alright?”

“Yes, we made our peace with it.” At the time, they had both been crushed. Odysseus had dreams of a big family, and while it was one thing she had never fully agreed on with him, they had ended up agreeing on having at least two children. Learning that having another child might kill Penelope broke both of their hearts, and they were planning on finding ways to circumvent this.

And then, they were ripped apart by the Trojan war. By the time Odysseus found his way back to her, neither of them wanted to even consider being taken away from each other ever again. Not having another child was a worthy price to spend their grey days together.

“No, I mean- that was a very big yawn.” Amphitrite explained. “Have you been sleeping properly?”

“No... I suppose I’ve been somewhat sick lately…” Penelope admitted. “It’s made sleeping a bit hard. Whatever I’ve caught isn’t contagious, at the very least.”

“Have you, now?” Amphitrite asked, leaning into her hand as she listened.

“Yes...” Penelope confirmed, thinking with a hand caressing her chin. Now that she thought of it… “Eating has become hard for multiple reasons, Helios’ light has become unbearable, I have to go relieve myself constantly, all of my body feels stiff, my hands shake randomly, I get light-headed easily...” She chuckled humorlessly, turning toward the goddess. “Why, I almost feel like I’ve aged years in the past… month… lady Amphitrite?

The look on Amphitrite’s face was… unusual. Worry looked so strange on the divine. “... I know that you do not like my husband.” She started, slowly. “But would you be willing to let him check on you? He’s better at telling these things than me.”

Penelope shook her head. “I… not yet.” She explained. “Knowing the hurt he’s wrought upon my Odysseus… I need more time to bear being around him.”

Amphitrite nodded in understanding. She felt very similarly about Odysseus himself, after all. “Athena, then?”

Penelope blinked. “Athena?”

“She cared for your husband, for whatever good that did him. She cares for your son, and is actually doing right by him.” Amphitrite didn't really share her husband's grudge toward the goddess of wisdom, recognizing her wrongs and rights in equal measure. “As an Olympian, she's… tied. To the Fates. She can tell things I cannot.” She explained to Penelope. “She should be able to figure out what ails you so.”

“Well, what can you figure out?” Penelope inquired, curious. She was sick, that much she could figure out, but she was curious to what the goddess thought.

“I can tell that you, my dear friend, are ill.” Amphitrite answered, and were those tears shining in her eyes? “And that seeing you wasting away pains those who love you.”

And so, Athena is brought in. At this point, Penelope spends most of her time resting in bed, Odysseus personally tending to her whenever he can. This is one such moment, her husband feeding her some light soup, when the goddess of wisdom, flanked by Telemachus, comes in. “Mother? Father?”

“Ah- Telemachus, Athena. Come in.” Odysseus invited them in, allowing his son to sit next to him. Not for the first time, Penelope is struck with the thought that their son very much has his father's face.

Athena circles the bed, coming to sit on the other side. She hesitantly raised a hand, hovering above Penelope's chest. “May I?” The queen nodded, allowing the goddess to touch her.

“It’s nothing too bad.” Penelope tried to reassure. “I just… feel exhausted.

“Mother, you can’t bear looking at the outsides.” Telemachus noted, frowning heavily. “Helios’ light hitting the garden’s leaves causes you pain.”

“And your appetite’s practically died, and you’re constantly sleeping-” Odysseus then added, starting to ramble. “And the reason why Lady Amphitrite convinced you to let Athena check on you is because you’ve been unable to weave because your hands shake- ”

Penelope raised her hand up, caressing Odysseus’ face. “My love. I will be alright.” She reassured him, smiling in fondness when he immediately kissed her palm.

“Oh no.” Athena suddenly protested, her shock evident. “No, you're not doing well at all, and will not be well unless we get Apollo involved.” She straightened up, looking at Odysseus. “We need to get your wife to Olympus.”

“Wh-”

“Her illness is a curse. Not one I can cure.” Athena explained to Odysseus, frowning. “It’s practically rotting her from the inside out, you’re lucky the others brought me in so early. And it's- it's not on her, it's… it's on you. It targets your loved ones.”

“What!?” Odysseus and Penelope exclaimed at once, before turning toward Telemachus together.

Telemachus shook his head, hesitant. “I- I feel fine…” He told his patron, his own voice shaking with worry.

Athena shook her head. “That will change once your mother dies, you'll start ailing like she did-”

“Penelope's not dying-!”

“Stop.” Penelope commanded the room, before sighing heavily. “... Telemachus, Athena? I need to speak with Odysseus.”

Telemachus frowned. “Mother-” Athena put a hand on his shoulder, interrupting him. He turned toward her in confusion.

She shook her head. “Best leave them to it.” She led her pupil out of the room, letting the two talk.

The door closed behind them, and Penelope laid back against the pillows. Odysseus sat at her bedside, clearly catastrophizing in his head. “You’re cursed.” She started. “To lose your loved ones, one by one, in a horrific manner.”

Odysseus mutely nodded. “I didn’t know…”

“I know, my love.” Penelope reassured him, caressing his face. “I don’t blame you for it.” He relaxed just a tiny bit, and she sighed. “What are we going to do?”

“Well, Athena says my only way to salvation is Olympus, but I’m not very eager to get back up there…” He sighed. “I already told you how much of a disaster the party was.”

“We could summon medics.” Penelope suggested. “One of them is bound to have Apollo’s blessing. There’s only so much whatever manner of surviving the Trojans can do to maintain a spell.”

“You think a survivor from Troy did this?” He asked, before immediately realizing how this would make sense. “I never did make sure none of them knew sorcery…”

“And it would make sense for one of them to want to take everything from you.” She noted. “Just like you took everything from them.”

Odysseus buried his face in his face, a humorless laugh leaving him. “Oh, I went through war and monsters and angry gods, and yet the thing that scares me most is a curse of illness.”

“I… this whole thing scares me as well.” She admitted. “I thought our suffering was over, and yet-” She took a shuddering breath. Very unlike her.

Odysseus almost jumped out of his seat. “Tell me what scares you so?”

“... My love, I don’t…” Tears streamed down Penelope’s pale face, and her expression, usually so restrained, broke in terror. “I don’t want to die.”

And thus, Odysseus was back on Olympus. He leaves Telemachus behind, promising him to be back as soon as Penelope was better. They've spent enough time apart. Besides, their son needs to learn to be king, and this will make a fine training period. Athena promises her student that she'll be back to guide him soon, and takes the Ithacan royal couple to the mountain in a flash.

Apollo was confused to see him back so soon, when he had clearly hated his last visit. But a mere glance at Penelope was the only explanation he had needed. He had simply asked for Odysseus to remain outside. “Your stress will stress her, even if you two don't realize it.” He had explained when Odysseus tried to protest. “Just wait here, I'll figure out what can be done.”

Odysseus sat down in front of the door, feeling his mind leave his body. He didn’t think, couldn’t think. A vague haze of absolute mortal terror paralyzed him, trapping him in a loop of self-hatred over his helplessness-

Some came to kneel down next to him. “Monster?” Odysseus turned his head, and it took him a few blinks to recognize Poseidon. Amphitrite was also here, looking like she wanted to start pacing.

“P- Poseidon?” Odysseus asked, 

“Athena went to get Hermes, who went to get Triton, who went to get us.” Poseidon explained, squeezing his shoulder. “I'm here for you, and Amphi's here for your wife.”

“Ah.” He let the god sit down next to him, drag him into his arms for comfort. He offhandedly watches Amphitrite starts to pace, her arms crossed behind her back. “I don’t know why Penelope’s cursed…”

“Do you know who did it?” Poseidon asked him in a low voice, and kissed his forehead when Odysseus shook his head. The mortal leaned into the touch, a distressed whimper leaving him. “Apollo should be able to figure that out. And once he does, you can kill whoever’s responsible.” 

“Would that break the curse?” Odysseus asked. Obviously, he was going to kill whoever it was that cursed his wife. But that was the least of his worries right now.

Amphitrite stopped her pacing long enough just to turn to him. “It should, yes-”

Apollo got out of the infirmary, sighing. Both Odysseus and Amphitrite were immediately upon him. “Who cursed her?” They asked in unison.

The god of healing sighed again, before looking at Odysseus with a frown. “... do you know a Calypso?”

Odysseus barely heard Amphitrite asking what Atlas’ daughter had to do with this, and Apollo’s answer that she had been the one to curse his wife. A horrible ringing had started in his ears, his heart dropped in his chest, the air refused to enter his lungs. He took one step back, two. And accidentally backed right into Poseidon.

The god of the sea laid a hand on his shoulder, turning him around and kneeling down. “Monster?” He asked, frowning. Odysseus saw him, but continued to hyperventilate. Poseidon laid a hand on the middle of his chest. “Breath in?” Odysseus took in a heavily shuddering breath, nearly choking on air- “Breath out.” The mortal nearly screamed as he released his breath.

“I- I can’t-” Odysseus stuttered, his mind flooded with fear and worry and renewed hatred.

“Yes, you can.” Poseidon answered, steady. “Just follow my voice. In.” Odysseus inhaled, hiccuping halfway through. “Out.” He exhaled, making a panicked ‘aaaaah’ noise as he did. “In.” His breath hitched once. “Out.” He almost sounded like he was sobbing as his breath left him. “In.” The mortal’s breath was a bit short, but starting to even out. “Out.” His chest deflated against the god’s hand. “In.” Inhale. “Out.” Exhale. “Good.”

Odysseus breathed normally for a few moments, considering the current situation. “The unkillable goddess who kept me captive for seven years deluded herself into thinking my wife stole me from her. In retribution, she cursed Penelope to slowly wither away, and the curse will transfer to my son when she dies. And when he dies, it will transfer, one by one, to every single person I love until no one remains but Calypso.” He turned to Apollo, the other god having a sympathetic frown on his face. “Did I get all of that right?” Apollo nodded in sympathy. “Is there a way to save Penelope?”

Apollo shook his head. “The only real way to prevent this would be to lift the curse, but I doubt that the titaness would be willing to do that. All I can do is treat the symptoms. Well-” He hissed through his teeth. “Nectar and ambrosia would stop the curse right in its tracks, trap it within an undying body that won't decay, but… she hasn't earned the right for it.” Odysseus slowly nodded, processing the answer…

… and then burst into tears, collapsing. Poseidon caught him before he could hit the ground.

Amphitrite just stared at Apollo, a dark frown on her face. “What do you mean, ‘hasn't earned the right’?”

“Queen Amphitrite-”

“Penelope has done nothing to deserve this pain.” She hissed. As far as Amphitrite was concerned, the queen of Ithaca might as well be the only human in the world worth caring about. “She's been pious, dedicated, loyal to a fault. If more were like her, the world would be a better place. The only crime this insignificant nymph can accuse her of is being loved by someone!”

“She's done nothing wrong, but she's done nothing great either.” Apollo explained, clearly unhappy with the situation too. “Not in my father's eyes. I'd like nothing more than to save her, but… if I sneak nectar and ambrosia behind his back, we'll have way worse to worry about than Calypso's curse.”

Amphitrite closed her eyes, trembling in anger. Helplessness was a very frustrating thing for the gods. “... get started on treating her symptoms.” She ordered Apollo. “Buy her and us as much time as possible while we figure out a situation.”

Apollo meekly nodded at Amphitrite, before disappearing back into his infirmary. The queen of the seas stood there for a moment, giving her husband a look. Poseidon looked at her back, his attention otherwise completely focused on the emotionally shattered mortal in his arms.

The two nodded in unison, fully agreeing on what was to be done.

Amphitrite then followed Apollo in, intent on keeping her friend company during that time. Poseidon turned back to his own mortal.

Odysseus was crying like the world was ending. To be fair, it was for him. “ Penelope! ” He wailed, despondent. “Oh, why must the Fates be so cruel!?”

“There, there.” Poseidon soothed, caressing Odysseus’ hair. “Her string hasn't been cut yet. We can still figure something out.”

“ How!? ” Odysseus cried out, the only thing keeping him upright being Poseidon's embrace. “I can't outplan a curse! It's not a tangible thing I can fight!” He sobbed. “

“Well…” Poseidon started. “There is a way.”

Odysseus immediately raised his head. “Tell me.”

Poseidon narrowed his eyes. “Do you remember our first night?” He asked, tilting his head. “What I proposed to you?”

It took Odysseus a moment to remember, mildly bewildered that Poseidon would bring up their arrangement in this situation. When he did, however, he gasped. “Immortality.”

“For you, and your wife.” Poseidon confirmed. “If I remember my words correctly… I'll feed you my ichor, until every inch of you is imbued by it. You'll live forever, past the fools who would decry you as a coward. An eternity before you, you just have to let me give it to you.” He brought Odysseus’ hand to his lips, kissing the back of it. “I'll give her eternal life too. My favor is meant to be a gift, and it wouldn't do to punish you after everything by letting death do the two of you part.” He turned Odysseus’ hand, pressing an open-mouthed kiss to the skin and closing his eyes. “You'll be perfect. I'll raise you up into a monster the likes of which no one has seen before, something the stars won't be able to contain. A different beast than the one your mortal tales speak of. Something no would-be hero will be able to slay. All you have to do…” His eyes snapped open, making unblinking eye contact. “... is agree to become mine. ”

“... I remember there being a lot more moaning and gasping.” Odysseus off-handedly noted, because teasing Poseidon meant he didn’t have to think about his wife dying in the other room.

He didn’t take the bait. “I’m serious.” Poseidon answered, still holding onto his hand. “Penelope might not be worthy of eternal life in Zeus’ eyes, but you are in mine. If making her immortal is your only condition to accept, then fuck’em. I'll deal with him.”

“No, it’s not-” Odysseus took a breath. “Your younger brother is not why I’m hesitant to accept.”

“Then what…?”

“My men. ” Odysseus answered. “Six-hundred comrades, so many of them my friends, dead. Almost all of whom were slaughtered by your hand.” He bitterly noted. The situation was already enough of a stain on their memory.

“Yes, and there is nothing you can do for them now. ” Poseidon reminded him, squeezing his hand. “But you can do something for Penelope, and the others you love, now. ” He frowned in confusion. “You’ve crossed far worse lines than this, why are you having so much trouble with this!?”

“B- because-!” If he did accept, he spat on the memory of all those who died. If he didn’t, then Penelope was doomed to suffer a slow and miserable death. Followed by the deaths of everyone else. It was either failing Penelope, or failing his men. And oh , didn’t that sum up the entirety of his miserable involvement with the divine? 

He backed away from Poseidon, jerking his hand out of the god’s hold. He wouldn’t, couldn’t understand his guilt, Odysseus knew this. But at least he seemed to understand that guilt was consuming him once again, simply letting him back away with a concerned frown on his face. This was something he had to figure out for himself.

What was he to do…? Oh why, Fates why-

Chapter 2: Monster (Reprise)

Summary:

Odysseus makes a decision.

Notes:

Decided to try something a little bit different for this chapter. Tell me what you think? :)

Why does everything turn against us…?

I believed my suffering had ended

For I finally reunited with my estranged

And now this happens…

Not a single soul in my way was spared…

All the lines I’ve drawn have been crossed

And I made it that the greatest threat in these seas…

Was me.

 

When I became the monster

I was grasping for answers

Ridden by problems I was desperate to solve

All semblances of control

Slipped through my fingers

Whether with friends or foes

Not a single thing could go right

So I became the monster…

 

When the lair of a lone demon is invaded

Does she stop to think that we simply wish to pass?

Or does she eat my men to sate her appetite

And only lets us because she recognizes herself in my eyes?

When a nymph is denied love from the first man she's met

Does she get over her broken heart?

Or does she double down, cursing what she pretends is a thief

In a vain effort to get me back?

When a god falls down and is made to bleed out

Does he feel fear of what he's created!?

Or does he laugh in my face, delighted at my loss of grace

And appoints himself my patron?

Does a king hear out the so-called men that threatened his love?

Or did I put them down like the animals they truly were!?

 

When I became the monster, I threw my guilt away…

It made me so much stronger

And kept my foes at bay…

When I became the monster to everyone but us

I finally got home again

So who cares if this is unjust

When I became the

 

Monster

 

Ruthlesness is mercy upon ourselves

 

Monster

 

This is a lesson that I learned well

I lost my best friend

I lost my brother, my crew

Six hundred men dead under my command

A worthy price to pay for my Penelope and Telemachus

So if I must discard my guilt to save my wife’s life

Take Poseidon’s hand and offer him my fate

And in the process, spit on six-hundred watery graves

So I can stay with mine!?

 

I’M ALREADY THE MONSTER

SO WHAT’S ANOTHER LINE!?

I BECAME THE MONSTER

WHY BOTHER WITH PRETENDING OTHERWISE!?

I’M ALREADY THE MONSTER

NO PLACE FOR HESITATION

I BECAME THE MONSTER

AND THEN I MADE IT HOME!

 

Monster… Penelope…

Monster… I can’t lose you…

Monster… Ruthlessness is mercy upon ourselves…

Monster…?

I’ll become your monster.

Notes:

Had this chapter written for a while, just wanted to let the first chapter sit for the night to let you guys react to it.

Chapter 3: A god's heart

Summary:

Odysseus eats Poseidon's heart.

Notes:

AHAHAHAHAH I'M BACK sorry for the long absence, my excuse is that KPop Demon Hunters grabbed me by the goddamn throat.

So uh. Trigger warning for gore and cannibalism.

While Odysseus considered the overall party on Olympus to have been a disaster, there had been a few moments that he thought fondly of. Seeing Hermes again. Hestia's kindness in telling him which foods were safe to eat. Learning that Athena had heard his prayer, back when he was trapped. The concern from Hades’ young, cat-like son. Seeing Diomedes again. And the sweet, passionate moment he had shared with Poseidon, in his temple.

A shame that the last memory was about to be tainted by what they were about to do.

They were back in Poseidon's temple, up on Olympus. Odysseus took a few steps forward, actually taking in the chamber. The ceiling stretched high, a blue marble that looked like the clear sea on a sunny day. The columns were intricately carved, horses and sea creatures and monsters seamlessly woven together. The walls were covered with tapestries of past heroes, ones Odysseus wasn’t sure he knew. The floor was also marble, black and gold. Whatever furniture there was- a vanity there, a closet here, the stand on which his trident rested- was made of lacquered wood, except for a slab made of rock and gilded with gold and precious stones. On the other end of the room, there was a great window, a waterfall serving as the curtain.

His eyes deliberately avoided the bed in the middle of the room, large and luxurious. This is for Penelope. You're doing this for Penelope. This isn't about whatever weird, blasphemous thing Poseidon is allowing you to have-

He suddenly felt Poseidon's hands on his shoulders, moving to take off his clothes from behind. “Um-”

“What?” Poseidon asked from behind him, his voice just loud enough to hear. “You're going to be eating my heart. Do you want ichor all over our clothes?”

Oh. “Oh. Right.” Odysseus took a deep breath, forcing himself to calm down a bit. “You may proceed.”

“Thank you.” Poseidon thanked, before getting back to it. His cloak was the first thing off, falling at his feet. His chiton was next, unbuckling his belt before lifting the shirt off of him. His gestures were slow, gentle, unlacing his sandals and sliding most of his jewelry off- he left his wedding ring on, thank the gods. 

Soon, Odysseus was naked, and he shivered lightly. There was a rustle of fabric behind him, and then Poseidon was against him, kissing the back of his neck. Chest to back, flesh to flesh. The mortal (not for much longer) sighs in pleasure, melting against the god. One hand cups one of his pectorals, gently squeezing and palming. The kisses shift to his shoulder, and the other hand starts tracing down the lines of his chest.

“Don’t.” Odysseus suddenly mutters, shame curdling in his guts. Poseidon’s hands stop their descent on his body, and he hums against the back of his shoulder. “I- I’m not doing this for pleasure.”

Poseidon’s claws graze up his chest, delicate but fast, placing themselves innocently on his shoulders. He doesn’t mean to cause pleasure, and Odysseus takes solace in that. “Does that mean it has to be horrible and painful?” He questioned, his voice a low whisper.

“This is already horrible and painful.” Odysseus answered, his voice brittle. “The only reason why I want this is because the other option is for everyone I love to die. ” He nearly sobbed.

A clawed hand caressed his face, drying his tears before they could spill. “And… what? You want to let it hurt more?” Poseidon asked in his ear.

“... I don’t want to take pleasure from this.” Odysseus reaffirmed, turning around to look at Poseidon. “It’s not just about the guilt: it feels… weird to do this when Penelope isn’t too far from here, dying.”

“Oh.” Poseidon softened. “I can’t… stop my reaction. But it’s as far as I’ll take things.” He promised, cradling Odysseus’ face. “Everything else is up to you.”

Odysseus sighed in relief, leaning into the touch. “Thank you…” Poseidon hummed in answer, placing a chaste kiss to the corner of the mortal's lips. 

He was about to pull away, but then Odysseus dragged him back in, slotting their mouths together and biting on his tongue, getting a little delighted sound as a reward. Ironically enough, the more Poseidon didn't push his desires onto the mortal? The more Odysseus wanted. Each time the reins of their relationship were handed to the king of Ithaca, the more he made peace, little by little, with his attraction to the god who had ruined him.

Magic pours into him where their skins meet, dragging his monstrous features out. His fangs caught on godly flesh, his mouth filled with spiced honey. Finally, Odysseus broke the kiss, his lips and tongue shimmering. “Get on the bed.” He ordered. Poseidon nodded, straightening up to go lay on the bed. He was in the middle of making himself comfortable when Odysseus joined him, straddling his chest.

He laid his hands on the god's chest, claws digging slightly into the skin. Gold appeared under his claws where he broke the skin. Odysseus took a deep breath, trying to steady himself, before purposefully cutting into his flesh with his claws.

A deep, deep gouge down his chest, with two smaller ones at the top to create flaps. Odysseus stuck his claws under the skin and muscle tissues, and internally thanked the Fates when the only reaction he pulled from Poseidon was an itch in his breath. He was serious about not making him deal with his horniness. He took a deep breath, and pulled.

A wet tearing sound filled the room, the body underneath him twitching. Odysseus let go of the godly tissues, and allowed himself a moment of curiosity. He had a general idea of what human insides look like: red and pink, skin over muscles over bones over organs, with veins and nerves twisting around it all and with a generally very unpleasant smell. 

The most obvious difference with godly ones- besides the fact that everything was gold and smelled really good- was that it was less… messy. Like every vein and nerve had been placed intentionally. When he made an attempt at wiping some of the ichor off of the ribcage, the bones were different too. A true, flawless white, a smoother texture, and they were… thinner, but more numerous. Almost like fishbones. Although, that might’ve been a Poseidon thing.

Also, there were engravings on the solar plexus. Oddyseus passed his thumb over it, frowning in curiosity. The relief was subtle, almost like… cracks. Like it had been shattered to pieces and then put back together.

Well. That is what happened, isn't it?

Odysseus shivered, and took his hand away from the bones. He looked up at Poseidon, who looked a bit dazed but was otherwise fine. “C- can you open up your ribcage?” He requested.

Poseidon hummed, his hands raising up into view. One of them took a hold of the right side of the bones. The other grasped his solar plexus. “We're going with the party plan, uh?”

It took a second for Odysseus to remember what he was talking about. “I- I wasn't-” He took another deep breath. “Need your ichor. Your blood. If god bodies work like human ones, then the source of it is all in your heart.” He explained. “The smartest way to go about this is to go for it. I wasn’t really… thinking of that back at the party.” He admitted. “I was mostly trying to rile you up.”

Poseidon smiled up at him. “Riling up accomplished.” He then pulled at his bones, and Odysseus just had the foresight of covering his ears and closing his eyes before a loud CRACK filled the room, followed by several smaller popping noises.

The body underneath him relaxed again. Odysseus hesitantly opened his eyes, and gasped. The heart. Golden and full of ichor and nearly the size of his head and perfect. His mouth watered, his clawed hands removing themselves from his heart to twitch toward it. The sound of the heart’s beat filled the room, his ears. If he squinted, he could swear the organ occasionally pulsed with some kind of impossibly blue light.

Odysseus took a hold of the heart, and let go the moment he felt its beat. “Shit-” Resonated into his fucking bones-

Poseidon took a hold of his wrist. “Breath in?” Inhale. “Breath out.” Exhale. “Good. Don’t get scared now.”

Odysseus nodded, and slowly turned his attention back to the heart. Once again, he swallowed back his saliva, and reached out for it. Poseidon let go of his wrist, hand falling back to the sheets. He expects the beat this time, expects the way it makes his entire being shake. His other hand comes up, sinking into the cavity and pressing a claw against one of the bigger veins.  firm 

He cut it open. The gush of ichor was the brightest thing he ever saw, and the gasp from Poseidon sounded agonized. Spurred on, he quickly cut the other veins and arteries before they could regenerate. Finally, he lifted the heart out of the god’s chest, and couldn’t stop the saliva from pouring out of his mouth. Slowly, he brought it to his mouth, his eyes shifting between it and Poseidon’s face- paler than usual, breathing wheezy. Finally, he steeled himself, and clamped his teeth down.

The first bite was heavenly. The taste of spicy honey he was well-accustomed to, burning sweetness filling his mouth like juice. The texture, though… something between a ripe fig’s flesh and smoked fish. It pulled apart between his teeth perfectly, syrupy and firm and soft and flaky. He swallowed his first bite, and expected the burn that came with it sliding down his throat. 

What he expected less was the feeling of it settling down in his stomach. Like the twinge of hunger, but much more intense. Shooting through his whole being and pushing him to take a second bite. So he did, groaning in satisfaction when it was as perfect as the first. The hungering ache lessened just slightly as he took his third, fourth, fifth bite. In some corner of his mind, he registered the beat getting weaker, the ichor coagulating on his lips.

This isn’t going to work. Reluctantly, he took one last bite out of the heart, clutching the remaining half like a lifeline. His hands shook, his breathing loud to his own ears as he watched the heart start to slowly grow back. Ichor dripped from both of his mouth and the organ, and all Odysseus could think of was what a waste. 

He licked his lips, before raising the heart above himself. Odysseus tilted his head back, letting fresh ichor fall into his mouth with each pulse. He steadied himself with his other hand, his claws digging lightly in the god’s lower abdomen. He made sure to look at Poseidon as he did so. Both to make sure he hadn’t somehow died- which he didn’t, if the rapid but steady rise and fall of his lungs was anything to go by- but mostly to tease him.

Poseidon looked debauched. His eyes were bright and foggy, unfocused on anything that wasn’t the soon-to-be immortal sitting on his chest. His breathing, soft and wheezy, was the only sound currently filling the room. A mix of saliva, tears and ichor seemed to drip down from his face. His long hair was strewn about in a nearly hypnotic pattern, dark strands curling and flowing like water. His hands were clutching the blankets and mattress so hard his claws had gone through, ripping the fabric. His face was so flushed it was practically glowing, a soft golden light that spread down to his shoulders.

The divine heart finished growing back in his grasp. With trembling hands, Odysseus deposited it back in Poseidon’s chest, suddenly overly aware of his claws and how fragile what he held was. He watched the veins growing toward each other, connecting and starting to pump new life into Poseidon. The god under him twitched, before audibly shuddering.

“Did that hurt?” Odysseus asked before Poseidon could say anything, seemingly concerned. The god looked at him for a long moment, before nodding. “Good.”

Poseidon wheezed painfully, smiling. There was ichor pouring out of his mouth, and all Odysseus could think of was to lick it out- “Ssstill hhungry?” He then asked, one hand coming up to caress Odysseus’ face. The mortal nodded, leaning into the touch. He couldn’t remember if he had eaten today, probably not. How else could he explain the clawing emptiness in his abdomen-

Poseidon's hand shifted to the back of his head. “What are you…?” Odysseus trailed off, his breath catching in his throat when Poseidon started pushing him down. Toward his still torn open chest.

“‘f you're hungry, that means you haven't had enough yet.” Poseidon mumbled, doing an admirable effort to push himself up. His heart was right there… “Come on. Eat up.”

Odysseus groaned, before practically collapsing into Poseidon's chest. His hands gripped the other's ribcage, bracing himself as he bit into the god's heart. There was so much more ichor, the organ squelching loudly as it healed the moment his teeth pierced it. The taste was so much more intense, the texture that much more… more. He needed more.

It didn’t matter that his mouth burned. It did not matter that he felt like his blood was being set aflame, like his entire face was slowly being peeled off. It did not matter that each gulp of godly blood burned down his throat and made most of his body ache to its very bones. It did not matter that he was barely able to even think. All that mattered was that the ichor filled his stomach, slowly lessening the gnawing hunger.

Poseidon suddenly moans loudly under him. And Odysseus should've expected it because he knows pain has that effect on him. But he doesn't, and the sound reminds him that hurting the god like this excites him. That his own cock was hard between his legs, and that it desperately needed friction.

He groaned around the organ, before regretfully letting go. Not for long, even if Poseidon's distressed whining tickled at the more sadistic parts of him. Just to shift his position, straddling one of the god's thighs to grind against before going back to his meal. His own thigh was flush with Poseidon's own dick, pulling more noises out of him.

Odysseus rutted mindlessly as he ate, no thoughts in his usually so busy mind besides drowning himself in gluttony and lust. He was spurred on by Poseidon, all of him: the hearbeat under his teeth, the ichor soaking his face, the claws entangled in his hair, the voice echoing off of the walls and their respective cocks sliding on each other's thigh. Some part of him still remembered that there was a greater purpose to this debauchery. His wedding ring dug into his skin, tight around his finger thanks to his vice grip on the god's bones. His only anchor to reality, the truth of their current situation. But in the middle of a tempest, even anchored ships could be swept away-

He's not sure of what he ends up biting into, something salty and liquid on his tongue that gives him a much more intense high than ichor. But he does know that it causes whatever composure Poseidon still had to shatter like glass. The god suddenly screeches and flails under him, almost like he just realized that the weight above him was eating him alive, like the fear just registered. Something wet splatters against Odysseus’ thigh, and the body under him goes limp. Like prey. That, combined with the sudden surge of energy that makes him feel like his blood turned to lightning, ends up making Odysseus come so hard his vision whites out.

Odysseus collapsed into the open wound. He then slowly pushed himself out of Poseidon's chest, groaning. He felt… so full. “Still hungry?” The god weakly asked from under him. Or at least, he assumed so: the ichor was covering his eyes, covering everything in a golden haze he couldn’t see through. Still, it made sense with their positions, with how they started out, that Poseidon would be under him. “Or did you have your fill?”

“Y- yeah.” Odysseus sluggishly answered, sitting back. “You?” He then asked, moving to wipe the ichor away with his forearm.

Poseidon shuddered under him, a tiny moan leaving him. “Enjoying the afterglow~” He answered, voice thin. Odysseus chuckled despite himself, wiping away the ichor from his eyes. Of course, he’s probably gonna be up for a second round any moment-

He paused for a moment. And then, panic seized him Oh… oh no. “P- Poseidon?” He suddenly started, voice trembling.

“Yes, monster?” Poseidon asked, raising his head. He then took in Odysseus’ state, and frowned. His veins were bulging all over his body, pulsing with light to the rhythm of his heartbeat. His fins had flared out, the thin blue and red membrane cracked with gold. In a few spaces, his skin had burst open, bleeding out shimmering red. He forced himself to sit up, ignoring the pain radiating from his chest. “What's wrong?”

Odysseus raised his own head in his general direction. Poseidon couldn't really see the state of his lower face since it was all covered in ichor, but the upper face was enough to know something was wrong. His eyes were gold, his scleras, irises and pupils indistinguishable from one another. Tiny glowing veins spread from them, but that wasn’t nearly as concerning as the red, dark, human blood streaking down his face like tears- “I-” His breath caught in his mouth. “ I can’t see-”

Notes:

:3

Chapter 4: Treatment

Summary:

Penelope, Poseidon and Odysseus all get medical treatment.

Notes:

This contains some world building vis-a-vis nectar and ambrosia that I'm really proud of! Aaaand some other implied stuff, too...

“Alright, here’s everything you’ll need for the next month.” Apollo started, putting a platter down in front of Penelope. “Lotion for the skin, apply it after washing yourself to take care of your aches. Eye drops, to reduce your sensitivity to the sun’s light. If you get tremors, apply this salve to whatever is affected. And make tea using these herbs each morning and each night, it should get your digestive system back in order. All of it is reinforced by panacea, which will react with the nectar and ambrosia to hasten the immortalization process.”

Penelope nodded in understanding. “Will I have to continue these treatments once immortality is secured?” She inquired, tilting her head.

“We'll have to wait and see.” Apollo answered, unsure. “I have to say, however: your hair is going to stay as such.” He started, referring to both the thinning state of Penelope's hair, and how half of it had gone grey. “Your endurance will also not be what it used to be before the curse took its course, at least not unless you make an effort to get it back. I'm not really sure of how to get the color back into your skin either, it seems to have lost most of its pigmentation- stay out of the sun, it will burn. Your sleep schedule should recover, now that the cause for your insomnia is gone, but it'll take some time. There's also the matter of how the curse will unleash itself on any unborn children you might bear and k-”

“Apollo.” Amphitrite curtly interrupted. “Just get to the point.”

“... of course, lady aunt.” Apollo acquiesced, bowing his head. “Fact of the matter is: not all the damage done is reversible. Mostly the damage caused by the stress. But you'll have the rest of eternity to learn to live with it.” He then gestured to the remaining two things on the platter: a glass amphora containing a honey-colored liquid, and a bowl full of golden berries, both glowing and see-through. “Ambrosia is what all godly food is made from. You can eat them raw, but I heavily suggest finding ways to enhance pre-existing meals with them. If only so you can get all your nutrients.”

“Any suggestions, O Apollo?”

“Of course!” Apollo exclaimed, bringing his hands together. “Mix two to three crushed berries into bread dough with a pinch of salt, and you have ambrosia bread! Or for something simpler, make an ambrosia jam and spread some on a slice of bread. If you make a stew, you can drop a few into the mix and they’ll pretty much dissolve into the broth, doesn’t really matter when. You can use them as a garnish for your favorite dessert too, of course. Uh, I’m pretty sure you can also use their juice as a substitute for oil-”

“I like mixing their juice with citrons to marinate fresh seafood in.” Amphitrite piped in. “Fish, shrimp, crab, oyster- just put them in for the third of an hour, and it basically cooks the meat. Sei prefers mixing them with fish eggs.”

Penelope hummed in curiosity. “Is nectar not already ambrosia juice?”

“Actually no…” Amphitrite noted, frowning. “I’m fairly certain the actual process is a bit more… complicated, but nectar is closer to ambrosia wine than ambrosia juice.”

“Dionysus tried to make wine with ambrosia once, but they don’t really… ferment on their own.” Apollo added. “I’m sure Hestia and Hebe would be delighted to explain the actual process, though! Just, you know…” He smiled awkwardly. “Let’s get you your actual immortality first, yes?”

“Yes, let’s.” Penelope agreed, grabbing the goblet with one hand. “Would one of you be so kind as to…?”

“I’ll be so kind.” Amphitrite answered, grabbing the amphora and pouring the nectar into Penelope’s goblet. The queen nodded at the goddess in gratitude, before taking a small sip.

The liquid was sweet like grapes, with a little bit of sourness that reminded Penelope of pomegranates. The mouthfeel was like velvet, thick and soft and smooth against her tongue. It went down just as smoothly as she swallowed. As it settled in her stomach, a pleasant warmth spread through her, and all the aches she had accumulated thanks to the curse disappeared for a glorious few seconds. When they came back, the pain had halved.

Penelope blinked at the goblet, flabbergasted. “... well, now I have to admit I’m curious.” She admitted to Amphitrite and Apollo. “This, without doubt, is the best thing I’ll ever have. And yet, my husband claims there’s something even better out there…”

Amphitrite hummed, tilting her head in curiosity. “And what could that possibly be?”

Penelope smiled impishly. “Yours' ichor.” A second of silence passed. And then Amphitrite shook her head in disbelief, even if a small smile tugged at her lips. For his part, Apollo simply facepalmed, muttering to himself about the Fates as he did so. The queen of Ithaca allowed herself a giggle, before raising her goblet to the two gods and drinking more of its content.

And then Poseidon burst in.

The god looked like he had been in a fight and lost. Besides the blood coming out of his mouth and nose, and his breathing was heavy, ragged. His robes were tied haphazardly, allowing one of his very badly shaking legs out into the open. The cause of these things was evident: a gaping, vertical chest wound, skin and muscle tissue hanging open and barely attached to his bones. Thankfully, none of his organs seemed to be missing this time, but there was a bright, humming blue light trickling out of his chest that most definitely shouldn't be.  

And that was saying nothing of Odysseus’ state. Mostly cocooned up in a blanket in the god's arms, blood could be seen seeping through. If what one of his visible legs was to be believed, that was because parts of his skin had burst open. Apollo could see that the cause were exploded arteries, blood shimmering in the light and dripping on the floor. Some could also be seen on his face, mostly hidden by his hair, and he sounded like he was trying not to hyperventilate. 

Penelope made a strangled noise at the back of her mouth, barely stopping herself from spilling the nectar. Apollo gasped in horror, and immediately started to move to set up two other beds for the new arrivals. As for Amphitrite…

“SEI!” She exclaimed, horrified. She quickly shot up from where she sat, running to her husband’s side so he could lean against her. “What in Tartarus happened-!?”

Poseidon smiled weakly at her. “Come on, Amphi.” He started gently, before wincing. “You knew- hng- we talked about how I'd go about it…” He readjusted his grip on Odysseus, holding him with one arm so he could sling the other one over Amphitrite's shoulders. “Where's Penelope?”

“I'm right here.” Penelope answered, putting her tray aside and scooting over. With Amphitrite's support, Poseidon was able to stumble over and put Odysseus down next to her. As the god was then dragged to his own bed, the queen quickly checked on her husband. “Odysseus?”

His head immediately snapped up at her, two completely golden eyes staring up (?) at her. “P- Pen- Penelope-”

“I'm right here.” She immediately reassured him, cradling his face. “I’m right here, I was just being given medical treatment. Nectar and ambrosia, too. I’m no longer dying from that nymph’s curse.”

Odysseus sobbed in relief, tears mixing in with red and gold. “Th- thank the Fates…” He then buried his face in her dress, and Penelope let him, caressing the fin of one fin-like ear. “I- I was so-o worried…” She hummed, looking at his fins in interest. The veins of the red- speckled blue membrane now gold instead of a darker shade of blue. It’s even affecting his monster form?

“Hush, it’s alright.” Penelope reassured Odysseus, caressing his hair. “We’ll both be alright…” She reassured him, keeping an ear on the exchange between the three gods.

“Oh no, no no-” Amphitrite fretted, frowning in concern. “Another hole in your chest, Sei? Really?”

“Not as big as the last one!” Poseidon cheerfully exclaimed, barely even flinching as Apollo stuck his hands inside to heal organs and bones. “And I kept my promise: you’re not the one who has to deal with it-”

“No, I am.” Apollo snapped, although his tone was very worried. He took his hands out of Poseidon chest, grabbing some needle and thread. “Skin and muscles ripped open, fractured bones, damaged core- Did you let him eat your heart or something?” He fretted.

“Yes.” Poseidon answered easily, letting Apollo stitch his chest close. “Quicker than nectar and ambrosia. An exchange of power, I lend him mine while he grows into his own. It’s just… messier.” He explained. “I promised that, if he was made immortal, Penelope would be as well. Zeus won’t be happy, but he won’t force me to break an oath.”

“How did you know it would… never mind.” Apollo brushed off his own question, healing the skin and muscle now that it was stitched back. “Usually you’d be free to resume as usual, but your core’s been damaged. So a few weeks of bed rest until your energy levels are back to usual.” He turned to Amphitrite. “Can I trust you to watch him while recovers?”

“You can trust me for that and more, nephew.” Amphitrite answered, before turning her attention to Poseidon and caressing his face. The god of the seas just sighed peacefully, leaning into her touch.

“Okay…” Apollo turned toward Odysseus and Penelope, and approached them. He sighed in relief when he saw that Odysseus had calmed down. “Odysseus? May I examine you?”

Odysseus winced in hesitation, but Penelope squeezing his hand in reassurance made him nod. He got off of the bed, and with some guidance from the god of light, moved to the free one. The king of Ithaca took a few deep breaths, and let the blanket fall off of him. Penelope gasped at all the blood she saw. “Make it quick.”

“Thank you. Now…” Apollo nodded, starting his examination. He winced at what he saw, and Penelope covered her mouth in horror. The artery in his right calf wasn’t the only vein that had blown up: his spine, left thigh, right shoulder, the inside of his left wrist, and his right temple were all in a similar state, as well as a bunch of internal bleeding thanks to smaller veins that hadn’t exploded with enough force. He then checked the eyes, and sighed in relief. “Good news: you haven’t gone blind.”

Odysseus blinked. “I haven’t?”

“There’s just ichor all over them due to you sticking your face in my uncle’s thoracic cage.” Apollo deadpanned, brushing his hand against Odysseus’ temple. With a burst of light, it was healed. “Ichor isn’t a fluid like how mortals understand it, it… sticks.” He explained, his fingers coming away stained with a glittering red. “Burns most of the time, too.”

“Just give me some water and I’ll enchant it so he can wash his face.” Poseidon piped up from where he was laying. “He’s gotten ichor stuck on him before, it’s not that big a deal.”

“Absolutely not, your core is still fragile.” Apollo reprimanded, starting to gather healing light in one hand. “Lady Amphitrite, could you…?”

Amphitrite nodded, giving Poseidon a kiss on the cheek before getting up. “I’ll grab him something to wear, too. Can’t imagine he’s too happy about being the only naked one here.”

“You’d imagine right.” Odysseus answered, letting Apollo push the ball of healing light into his chest. For a moment, every vein in his body lit up from the inside, before slowly healing and sealing themselves shut. He blindly felt for his wrist, humming in amazement when he didn’t even feel scarring. He raised his head vaguely in Apollo’s direction. “Any doctor’s orders I should follow?”

“Don’t strain, and try not to use your powers.” Apollo declared, the sound of Amphitrite busying herself filling the background. “The ichor isn’t just a fluid, it’s also energy. And it needs to stabilize in your body…” He hummed. “... it’s the first time someone gains immortality that way, I’m not sure what to expect…” Apollo then explained, frowning. “From the look of it, it seems to be fusing with your blood? So some odd bleeding could be possible. If it’s more gold than red, call for me: your body could be rejecting it.” Odysseus nodded in understanding.

He heard a few footsteps coming near. “Here you go.” Amphitrite told the king of Ithaca, handing a large bowl full of warm water and some fabric, a cotton tunic. Odysseus hummed in thanks, putting on the tunic, before making himself a bit more comfortable with the large bowl of water. Crossing his legs before putting it in his lap, he cupped some water in his hands before splashing it across his face. His vision started clearing up, and he smiled as he continued washing his face. Everything will be just fine-  

The doors to the infirmary burst open. “APOLLO!” Zeus bellowed, clearly enraged beyond belief. Lightning coursed from his hands and all over his arms, lashing out into the air and lighting up his eyes.

Apollo jumped back, clearly terrified. Penelope startled, curling up a bit on herself out of shock. Amphitrite immediately stood up, cold fire in her eyes. Odysseus only paused for a moment, before continuing to wash his face. And as for Poseidon…

“Agh, shut up, man!” He whined, grabbing one of his pillows and throwing it in Zeus’ general direction. “You’re too loud!”

Zeus caught the pillow with one hand, reducing it to ashes. “Was this your idea-?” He hissed, starting to advance toward his ailing brother.

Amphitrite quickly put herself between Zeus and Poseidon, brandishing a weapon to stop the king of the gods from taking one step further. The symbol of her husband’s- and thus, her- authority over the sea. “Not one step further.” She hissed, brandishing Poseidon’s trident.

Zeus glared at her. “My brother lets you play with his toys?” He growled, glaring at the nereid.

“My husband trusts me with his everything , yes.” Amphitrite snapped back, not wavering. She didn’t miss the way Zeus hadn’t moved. “Poseidon offered immortality to Odysseus, and Odysseus’ only condition was for Penelope to also be granted immortality. He obliged, end of story.”

“Your husband blatantly went behind my back-”

“I made an oath.” Poseidon snapped, Apollo in the middle of checking his bandages. Zeus’ head snapped up, eyes wide. “That if he accepted my proposition of immortality, I’d give it to his wife as well. He did, and I don’t go back on my word.”

“I- you-” Zeus raged, impotent. “You traitorous- I didn’t give you permission to-!”

“What, do we need your permission to piss, now!?” Apollo suddenly snapped. “You didn’t react like this when I went to the Underworld to get Hyacinthus back. How and why is this different?”

“Hyacinthus doesn’t keep maiming you now, did he!?” Zeus argued back. “This man put a hole in your uncle’s chest! Twice!”

“Oh, like you care about that. You came to mock him on his sickbed-”

“Besides,” Zeus continued, ignoring Amphitrite. “Where will he be staying? I have no intentions of allowing him to make a home here, he’s too dangerous-”

“Well then, it’s a good thing that my husband and I have no intentions of living on Olympus.” Penelope interjected, popping a few ambrosia into her mouth. She crushed them easily between her teeth, their juice and pulp a bit more acidic than nectar, but… not in an unpleasant way. “Right, my love?” She asked Odysseus, who was still busy washing his face. Little by little, his vision cleared up. He hummed in agreement, and she turned back toward Zeus. “Lord Poseidon and Lady Amphitrite have a perfectly functioning palace underwater. And as far as I know, not all their children live here either…”

Poseidon laughed. “Hear that? As long as you stay out of their way, you won’t even have to worry about them~”

“Besides, my husband wouldn’t have had to accept lord Poseidon’s offer had Calypso not cursed me.” Penelope continued, and relished in the way Zeus flinched.

“Calypso, which you trapped him with.” Amphitrite reminded Zeus, unforgiving. “You want to know who’s to blame? There’s your answer.”

“Get out of my infirmary.” Apollo finished coldly. “You’re stressing out my patients.” Zeus bristled, at an impasse. He couldn’t do anything to salvage this situation without starting a war with the forces of the sea. It was too late. He was too late. Frustrated, he turned his ire upon the source of his frustration. The one with whom this whole predicament he was now stuck in had started with: Odysseus.

“You! You spiteful, deceitful, arrogant little coward!” The king of gods exclaimed, furious. Odysseus didn’t turn toward him, still busy with washing the ichor out of his eyes. “You’ve left a trail of red everywhere you went, destroyed more lives than anyone could possibly count. Traded your own crew and friends like mere objects. And now, spitting on their legacy like this!” He spat. Yeah yeah. I already know my crimes, listing them won’t- “After everything you’ve done, how do you intend to sleep at night!?”

Odysseus stopped his motions. He slowly turned toward Zeus, glittering water dripping from his face. He didn’t miss the way Zeus imperceptibly flinched back, the way his eyes widened and his stance tightened.

He doesn’t realize the way Zeus sees him: the mortal who bested a god, gifted immortality through the most violent way possible. Pride gleefully rewarded, proof that Poseidon was irrevocably out of control, had always been. His brother severely wounded, his blood still all over the one who drew it, soaking into Odysseus’ being and imbuing him with his power. 

Not the water and earth Poseidon has to choose to be everyday. His real one. Destruction.

But Odysseus doesn’t realize any of that. All he realizes is that Zeus is angry about the situation being out of his control, and is powerless to do anything about it but throw a tantrum. All he can do is guiltrip him. Or, well… try to guiltrip him. He’s heard the question before. How will I sleep at night after everything, uh? He shifts his position, straightening his back and raising his chin. Despite sitting down being much shorter than the Thunder Bringer, he is very much looking down on him.

He meets Zeus’ gaze. His own eyes were no longer the same, pupils ringed with gold like a solar eclipse. Odysseus scoffs, looks the godking in his face, and spits his answer out the same way he did when the Lord of Tides asked him that one year ago. But this time, he knows for certain that the arms he speaks of will embrace him when he’ll crawl into them. “In your brother’s bed.”

Notes:

Aaaand this is done! Not the end of the series, obviously. I still have a few fics planned before the big finale.

Notes:

Please leave a comment! They help keep me motivated. ^^

Series this work belongs to:

• Part 10 of Good Answer 'verse