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Chapter Text

As fun as this little bonding session is,” Antinous began stretching his arms behind his head, “I should probably start packing.”

Penelope, who had been observing quietly, frowned. “What do you mean, start packing?”

Antinous glanced at her, his expression softening but resigned. “Your husband’s back, my lady. There’s no one left that I need to protect you and the little wolf from. My original goal here was over awhile ago and my second “job” is over and i can’t stay. It’s time for me to head home.”

Penelope’s lips parted as if to argue, but before she could say a word, Odysseus hopped off her lap, his bare feet slapping against the marble floor. He strode confidently toward Antinous, who immediately tried to look anywhere but directly at the Telemachus maker.
Without hesitation, Odysseus clapped a heavy hand on Antinous’s back, nearly sending him stumbling forward. “Nonsense!” Odysseus boomed, his voice echoing through the room. “You should be the new general in my army!”

Antinous blinked, caught entirely off guard. “I’m sorry… what now?”

Odysseus grinned, his hand still firmly on Antinous’s shoulder. “You’ve proven your loyalty to this family. Not just with words, but with action. You protected my wife and my son when I couldn’t without hesitation . You stabbed one of your own to keep them safe. Not to mention look at how large you! That’s the kind of man I need leading my forces.”
Antinous glanced toward Telemachus, who was grinning smugly, clearly enjoying his discomfort. Then his gaze shifted back to Odysseus. “Ohthanks. I uh if you’re sure, then I’d be honored.”
“Great!” Odysseus said, his grin widening. “Your new quarters will be right next to Telemachus’s!”

Antinous froze, his mouth opening and closing as he tried to process what he’d just heard. “Waiit next to Telemachus?”
“Of course,” Odysseus said, patting his back with a laugh. “You two seem inseparable already. Can’t have my general wandering too far from my son, now can I?”
Telemachus crossed his arms, leaning against a nearby column. “Looks like you’re stuck with me, Antinous,” he said, his tone dripping with mock innocence.
Antinous groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Great. Just great.”
Penelope hid a smile behind her hand, watching the exchange with amusement. “Welcome to the family, General Antinous.”
Antinous sighed, muttering under his breath, “This is madness.”
From somewhere unseen, Dionysus’s voice echoed faintly, carrying a trace of humor. “Exactly, my frenzied soul.” Although it seemed as though no one but Antinous heard it. This is just the beginning of his suffering and he just knows it. Maybe this is the gods punishment for being so arrogant

Chapter Text

In the dead of night, the air was thick with the sounds of muffled, unholy noises coming from Penelope and Odysseus’s room. Antinous lay in his bed, tossing and turning, unable to sleep despite his exhaustion. The sounds were unbearable, and with each creak of the wooden walls, he felt his patience wearing thinner. Finally, unable to stand it any longer, he threw off his covers and stormed out of the room.

The palace was eerily quiet as he padded down the hallway toward the kitchen. He wasn’t sure what he expected to find, but when he entered the dimly lit space, he spotted Telemachus standing near the counter, trying his best to quietly search for something to snack on.

Antinous leaned against the doorframe, a shit eating grin spreading across his face. “Can’t sleep?” he asked, his voice thick with amusement.

Telemachus whipped around, his eyes narrowing into a glare. “You know damn good and well I can’t,” he muttered, his annoyance clear.

Antinous raised an eyebrow, feigning innocence. “Why’s that?”

Telemachus shot him a death glare, as if daring him to make a joke.

Antinous chuckled and put his hands up in mock surrender. “Alright, alright. I won’t press you.” He turned to rummage through the pantry, his movements slow and deliberate as he dug through the shelves. “What do you want to eat?”

Telemachus crossed his arms, his lips quirking into a faint smile despite himself. “Do you see any pomegranates?”

Antinous paused, then glanced over at the fruit bowl. “Yeah, there’s one left,” he said, plucking it from the shelf and tossing it to Telemachus.

Telemachus caught it effortlessly and eyed Antinous with a raised brow holding it up. “Want to split it?”

Antinous froze for a moment, realizing that Telemachus wouldn’t know the significance of the act the way he did. Unlike himself, Telemachus didn’t worship a Chthonic god or goddess regularly only honoring them on their festivals, so he wouldn’t realize the symbolism of splitting a pomegranate. After a moment’s hesitation, Antinous shrugged it off. “Sure.”

They both stood there, silently splitting the fruit in half. As they ate, Telemachus smirked. “Hey, you might not have gotten your original goal of marrying my mom, but at least you got a job out of this whole thing.”

Antinous snorted and shook his head. “Yeah, and it only took me three years, almost getting killed, and getting knocked out to get it.”

Telemachus laughed, and for a brief moment, the tension between them seemed to dissolve as they shared the quiet camaraderie of the night. The silence of the kitchen was a welcome relief from the chaos that had been swirling around them both, and as they continued to eat, Antinous felt a strange sense of peace however fleeting it might be. And the peace was perfect until it was shattered by a loud moan that he is 99% sure wasn’t produced by Penelope.

Chapter Text

The next morning, Antinous was startled awake by an insistent banging at his door. Groaning, he dragged himself out of bed, his head still foggy from the restless night before, and shuffled over to answer it.

When he opened the door, he found himself face to face with none other than Odysseus. Who stood there, grinning from ear to ear like a child with a secret. “Hi!” he said cheerfully.
Antinous blinked at him, utterly baffled. Still half-asleep, he replied, “Hi…”
“Are you ready for breakfast?!” Odysseus asked with far too much enthusiasm for the early hour.
Antinous rubbed his eyes and yawned. “Doesn’t Eurycleia usually bring it to our rooms?” he mumbled, his voice still hoarse with sleep.
Odysseus threw his head back and laughed, the sound booming through the hallway. “Not anymore!” he declared, clapping Antinous on the shoulder with enough force to make him stumble slightly. “From now on, we’re all eating breakfast together! As a family!”

Before Antinous could protest or even fully process what was happening Odysseus grabbed his hand and started dragging him down the hall. The taller man stumbled behind him, too stunned and sleep deprived to resist.

And that was when Antinous saw it or thought he saw it. It had to be a hallucination brought on by lack of sleep. Odysseus, the same man who had mercilessly slaughtered 106 men just yesterday, was skipping. Skipping.

Antinous blinked hard, hoping the absurd image would vanish, but no it was real. The legendary king of Ithaca, a man renowned for his cunning and strength, was skipping down the hall like a carefree child, leading Antinous toward the grand hall.

Antinous shook his head, muttering under his breath, “I should’ve stayed in bed.” But he couldn’t help the faint smile that tugged at his lips as he followed Odysseus to breakfast, the bizarre contrast between the man’s fearsome reputation and his current behavior almost too much to handle.
When they finally reached the dining room in the great hall Odysseus all but shoved a groggy Antinous into a seat at the long dining table, right next to an equally tired looking Telemachus, who blinked at him with bloodshot eyes. Antinous gave him a sympathetic look before flopping back in his chair, running a hand through his messy hair.

Odysseus, meanwhile, dragged his chair from the head of the table with a loud, screeching noise that made both younger men wince. He plopped it down next to Penelope’s seat, grinning like a child who had just been given permission to eat dessert before dinner. Antinous didn’t dare look under the table, but he’d have bet all the drachma in Ithaca that the man was kicking his feet with joy.

Eurycleia entered with a tray of steaming barley cakes, bowls of honey, and fruit. She set the food down with practiced ease before ruffling Odysseus’s long, unkempt hair. “You need a haircut,” she scolded, though her tone was affectionate.

Odysseus grinned up at her like a boy caught stealing sweets. “I think it gives me character.”

Eurycleia snorted, clearly unimpressed, before retreating to the kitchen.

Telemachus, fully awake now, dug into his barley cakes with gusto, dipping each piece into the honey before popping it into his mouth. Antinous glanced at him and couldn’t help but crack a small grin Telemachus was still wearing his wolf fur mantle, as though he’d forgotten to take it off before bed. It suited him, though.

Penelope sipped delicately at her cup of watered wine before glancing at the two boys. “What do you plan to do today?” she asked, her voice calm and measured.

Antinous leaned back in his chair. “Probably write to my sister Asteria. Let her know I’m staying here permanently,” he said with a shrug.

Telemachus piped up, his mouth full of food. “I’m going to the market to get more incense for Athena.”

Odysseus perked up at this, sitting a little straighter. “Ooo, can I come?”

Penelope raised a delicate eyebrow, though her lips twitched with amusement. “Sweetheart, you have twenty years’ worth of paperwork to catch up on,” she reminded him gently.

“Oh,” Odysseus said, visibly deflating. He pouted, the expression so absurd on his rugged, bloodstained face that Penelope couldn’t help but giggle, covering her mouth with her hand.

Telemachus turned to Antinous. “Do you want to come with me?” he asked, his tone casual.

“Sure, little wolf” Antinous replied, reaching over to swipe a barley cake from Telemachus’s plate.

Telemachus narrowed his eyes and made a sharp motion with his mouth as though he were about to bite. Antinous snatched his hand back just in time, holding it up in surrender. “Alright, alright, it’s all yours, little wolf,” he said with a smirk.

Telemachus gave a triumphant nod before returning to his breakfast, while Antinous leaned back and chuckled to himself, already bracing for whatever the day would bring.

Chapter Text

After breakfast, Telemachus practically dragged Antinous out of the palace and into town. The morning sun bathed Ithaca’s bustling market in a golden glow, and the streets were alive with vendors calling out their wares, the scents of fresh bread and sea salt filling the air.

Telemachus flitted from stall to stall, his enthusiasm palpable as he admired everything from intricately carved figurines to jars of golden honey. He would pause every so often to excitedly chatter with a vendor, his joy as unrestrained as a child’s. Antinous trailed behind him, hands in his pockets, a dopey grin plastered across his face as he watched the prince in his element.
“You’re going to wear yourself out before we even get the incense,” Antinous teased lightly, though he made no move to stop Telemachus.
Telemachus just waved him off with a laugh, darting toward another stall when suddenly a familiar voice called out behind them.

“Antinous?”

They both turned to see a woman standing there, her hands resting on her hips. She had the same dark hair with curls framing her face and striking features as Antinous, though there was a softness to her that he lacked well, except when he was looking at Telemachus.

Antinous raised an eyebrow and gave her a slow once over before blurting out, “You look fat.”

Telemachus’s eyes widened in horror, and he elbowed Antinous hard in the ribs. “What’s wrong with you?” he hissed.

The woman Asteria, Antinous’s sister rolled her eyes. “I’m pregnant, dumbass,” she shot back, crossing her arms.

Antinous froze, blinking at her as though his brain had short circuited. “Pregnant?” he repeated dumbly.

“Yes,” she said, drawing out the word with exaggerated patience. “You know, when two people”

“I know how it works!” he snapped cutting her off, though his cheeks flushed a little as he looked away, still processing the information.

Asteria turned to Telemachus with a warm smile and grasping his hands brushing past her brother’s stunned reaction. “It’s so great that your father has finally returned!” she said brightly.

Telemachus nodded, his smile polite but genuine. “It is. Congratulations on your pregnancy, by the way.”

Asteria’s smile softened. “You’re so sweet,” she said, her tone almost maternal. She leaned in slightly and whispered, “You deserve so much better than my brother.”
Telemachus blinked, confused, as Asteria pulled back, her grin innocent once more. She turned to Antinous with a raised brow. “By the way, Mom’s asking when you’re coming home.”

Antinous rubbed the back of his neck, suddenly looking sheepish. “Oh, about that…”

Asteria narrowed her eyes. “What did you do?”
“I got a job in the palace,” he said casually, as if it wasn’t a big deal.
Her expression shifted to mild surprise. “Oh?
“Yeah,” he said, puffing his chest out a bit. “I’m the new army’s general.”

Asteria blinked at him, then laughed. “The new general? You?”

“Is that so hard to believe?” he shot back, though his tone was more amused than annoyed.

“Yes,” she said bluntly, though there was a teasing glint in her eye. “But good for you, I guess.”

“Thanks,” Antinous muttered, though he wasn’t entirely sure if she meant it.

Asteria turned back to Telemachus with a warm smile. “Anyway, I have errands to run. Be good, you two!” she called over her shoulder as she walked away.

Telemachus turned back to Antinous, still trying to process what she’d meant earlier. He looked up to the taller man standing semi still, his mouth slightly agape as he stared at where his sister had just been his brain just now catching up to what was said.

“You okay?” Telemachus asked, tilting his head.

Antinous blinked, snapped out of his daze, and muttered, “She’s pregnant.” As if saying it out loud would help him believe it.

Telemachus snorted. “Yeah, we established that. You want to buy her a gift, or should we keep moving?”

Antinous shook his head to clear it, rubbing the back of his neck. “Let’s just… let’s get the incense,” he said, his tone distracted as he followed Telemachus to the next stall.

Chapter Text

The two strolled through the bustling market in companionable silence after their encounter with Asteria, though Antinous still seemed distracted. He’d glance at stalls with incense, candles, or carved idols but wouldn’t linger, clearly caught up in his own thoughts.

Telemachus kept glancing at Antinous out of the corner of his eye, his curiosity bubbling until he finally spoke up.

“You’ve been quiet,” he remarked, his voice carrying just a hint of concern.

Antinous turned to him with a smug grin, his tone light as he teased, “How so, little wolf?”

Telemachus pressed his lips together, unsure how to phrase what he wanted to say. After a moment, he looked up at Antinous and asked, “Does the thought of you being an uncle bother you that much?”

Antinous let out a quiet laugh, shaking his head. “I’m already an uncle. My eldest sister has two kids already.”

“Then what’s the problem?” Telemachus asked, tilting his head as he searched Antinous’s face for answers.

Antinous sighed, his expression softening. “Well, my younger sister’s already having a kid, and here I am… just here, you know? Wandering through life without much to show for it.”

Telemachus furrowed his brow in thought, then offered a bright smile. “Well, if there’s a guy you want to marry, then you should just go for it!” he said earnestly. He paused for a second, then added, “I mean, I don’t really know the marriage laws in Ithaca, he trailed off. but it doesn’t matter anyway. I’m the prince, so I’ll just change them for you if I have to.”

Antinous raised an eyebrow at him, amused. “Okay, little wolf,” he said with a soft chuckle.

By then, they’d reached the incense stall. Telemachus immediately began inspecting the rows of goods, carefully picking out high-quality incense for Athena. His movements were quick and precise, showing how well he knew what he wanted. But as Antinous watched, he noticed Telemachus pick up something extra a bundle of storax resin.

Telemachus handed over a few coins and secured his purchases before Antinous could stop himself from asking, “What’s the storax for? You usually only get frankincense.”

Telemachus turned to him with a sly grin. “This is for Dionysus,” he said, his tone casual, as if it were the most normal thing in the world.

Antinous faltered, his step hitching for a brief second before he quickly cleared his throat. “I thought you primarily worship Athena?”

“I do,” Telemachus replied with a nod. “But I told my dad that you primarily worship Dionysus, so he’s building a temple for him on the palace grounds. For you.” His words were spoken so simply, as if what he’d just said wasn’t monumental.

Antinous stared at him, wide eyed. “Little wolf… that really isn’t necessary.”

Telemachus shrugged, his expression calm as he adjusted the incense he carried. “My dad built temples for both Artemis Orthia and Ares for my mom, so he’s also building one for you. It’s only fair.”

And just like that, Telemachus turned back to the road, continuing to walk as if he hadn’t just said something completely life altering. Antinous stood there for a moment, trying to process everything, before shaking his head with a faint smile and hurrying to catch up.

Chapter Text

The palace grounds were bathed in golden sunlight as Telemachus and Antinous strolled side by side, the soft crunch of gravel beneath their feet breaking the peaceful silence. Telemachus slowed to a stop, glancing at Antinous. “I’ll be back,” he said, lifting the bag of incense slightly. “I’m going to Athena’s temple to put this up.”

Antinous gave him a small nod, his usual grin in place. “Alright, little wolf,” he said, ruffling Telemachus’s hair.

Telemachus huffed, batting his hand away before leaning in to playfully nip at his fingers. With a quick, mischievous grin, he stuck his tongue out and turned on his heel, walking away with a spring in his step.

Antinous chuckled to himself, watching him disappear down the path. “Brat,” he muttered fondly before continuing his own walk.

As he rounded the palace gardens, his eyes were drawn to a spot at the back where scaffolding and stone blocks were arranged. He stopped in his tracks, taking in what he quickly realized was the foundation of a new temple. The construction was already impressive for something that had only been started that morning it was clear that Odysseus hadn’t spared any resources.

Antinous’s gaze trailed upward, his brow furrowing when it landed on a figure perched high on the framework. He squinted, trying to make out the person’s identity. “It couldn’t be…” he muttered, disbelief creeping into his tone.

But it was.

It was Odysseus, hammering away with practiced ease, as if he hadn’t just returned from a twenty year absence. And to make matters stranger, he was casually chatting with Athena, who stood nearby, her radiant presence impossible to miss.

Antinous froze, contemplating whether to sneak away unnoticed, but before he could take a step, Athena glanced his way and pointed him out.

Odysseus, spotting him, beamed and waved enthusiastically.

Antinous sighed, reluctantly waving back, silently cursing the gods or, more specifically, Athena for noticing him. Before he could process what was happening, Odysseus suddenly leaped from his position on the scaffolding, landing gracefully in a nearby tree. With an almost acrobatic flair, he bounded from the tree to the ground.

The next thing Antinous knew, Odysseus was standing right in front of him, grinning from ear to ear like an excitable puppy.

“Antinous!” Odysseus exclaimed, clapping a hand on his shoulder. “What do you think? Pretty impressive, right?” He gestured to the beginnings of the temple behind him, his pride practically radiating off him.

Antinous blinked, trying to catch up with everything. “Uh… yeah. It’s, uh, coming along,” he managed, still somewhat stunned by the whirlwind that was Odysseus.

Odysseus grinned even wider, his brown eyes gleaming with excitement. “We will make it great for Dionysus! Come on, let me show you the plans!”

Antinous didn’t have the heart to protest.

Odysseus grinned widely as he pulled Antinous in closer, his arm draped casually over the taller man’s shoulders. Antinous had to hunch down a little to make room for Odysseus’s enthusiastic gesture, a bit uncomfortable in his much bigger frame, but he didn’t say anything. He could feel the warmth of Odysseus’s arm, the camaraderie in the gesture, and despite his discomfort, he found himself unable to brush it off.

The king eagerly gestured at the plans in front of them, his finger tracing over the intricate designs. “This is going to be perfect,” Odysseus said, his voice full of excitement. He pointed at various sections of the design, showing Antinous how he envisioned the layout. “The altar here, the statue of Dionysus in this area, the columns should have carvings along the side that represent both the harvest and the wine press. And look here”
Before Odysseus could finish his sentence, Telemachus’s voice broke in from behind them, a playful tone lacing his words. “Hey, what are we looking at?”

Odysseus immediately pulled his arm away from Antinous, his face lighting up as he turned to embrace his son. The familiar warmth between father and son was palpable, and for a brief moment, Antinous watched, feeling a sense of something like longing stir within him. The way they interacted so natural, so easy as if they hadn’t just spent 20 years apart. It reminded him of a kind of warmth that his father with his own family when he was younger.
“I was just showing Antinous the plans for the temple,” Odysseus said, his tone proud, eyes glinting with the energy of a man who had already dedicated so much of his life to this island, but was now on the verge of creating something monumental.

Telemachus was clearly as excited as his father, his eyes widening at the blueprints. “That’s amazing!” he said, beaming with pride.

Then, Telemachus glanced up at Antinous, his gaze lingering as if he had just noticed something. His smile faltered for a moment, replaced by a mixture of curiosity and surprise.

“What are you looking at, little wolf?” Antinous asked, his voice a mix of amusement and mild confusion as he caught Telemachus staring.

Telemachus blinked a few times, his expression puzzled. “Your ears,” he said, his voice full of innocent wonder. “They have holes in them!”

Antinous couldn’t help but roll his eyes, though the flush creeping up his neck gave away his flustered reaction. “Everyone’s does,” he said nonchalantly, trying to brush off the attention.

But Telemachus wasn’t letting it go. His curiosity clearly had a hold of him now. He reached up with both hands and gently grabbed Antinous’s ear lobe, inspecting it closely as if it were some rare artifact. The touch was soft, but it sent a jolt through Antinous nonetheless, who instantly stiffened.

“These have holes like my mom’s!” Telemachus exclaimed, his eyes wide with realization.

Antinous blinked, momentarily stunned by the bluntness of it. He quickly swatted Telemachus’s hand away, a playful smirk on his lips, but his face was definitely pink now. “Yeah, because they’re for earrings,” he said, his voice a little more embarrassed than he would have liked.

Telemachus raised his eyebrows, a look of mild confusion crossing his face. “Aren’t those for women?” he asked, tilting his head in thought, completely unfazed.

Antinous shrugged and gave a nonchalant smile, though he couldn’t suppress the faint blush on his cheeks. “My mom had my ears pierced when I was about five,” he explained, the words coming out a little more casually than he felt. “It was when our family visited her mother and father in Persia.”

Telemachus’s face lit up like a lantern, clearly fascinated by this new piece of information. “Wait, you’re Persian?” he asked in awe, his excitement palpable. “That’s so cool!” He bounced a little on his feet, the energy around him contagious. “I didn’t know that!”

Antinous chuckled at Telemachus’s enthusiasm, glad to see the young man so energized. “Yeah, I guess you could say that although I’m technically only half he said, a grin spreading across his face despite the oddness of the conversation. He wasn’t used to sharing personal details, but something about Telemachus’s wonder made it easier. “My father is from Ithaca”

Telemachus tilted his head, still pondering. “Why don’t I ever see you wearing your earrings?”

Antinous chuckled, his grin mischievous. “Because I only wear them on special occasions,” he said with a casual shrug. “The jewelry’s expensive, and unlike you…” He paused, a glint of teasing in his eyes, “…I don’t have a horde of wealth at my disposal.”

Telemachus grinned, clearly enjoying the jab. “Fair point!” he said, as if he’d just won some small victory. “Still, it’d be cool to see you wear them one day.”

Antinous just laughed and told Telemachus “give me a special occasion to wear them at”
They continued on, with the conversation shifting back to the plans for the temple. Telemachus’s enthusiasm hadn’t waned in the slightest, and the warm connection between the three of them seemed to make the day even brighter than before. Odysseus’s eyes twinkled as if he were amused by something far beyond just the conversation.

Telemachus glanced at his father, then back at Antinous, an odd expression crossing his face before he shook his head as if trying to shake an idea out of his head.
The conversation shifted back to the plans for the temple, but Telemachus couldn’t help but glance back at Antinous a few more times, his curiosity not entirely satisfied. Antinous, in turn, found himself mulling over the unexpected comfort of Telemachus’s eyes on him wondering how long it would last.

Chapter Text

The dining hall was lively, filled with the warm chatter of family and the occasional clink of silverware against the ceramic plates. The long table was set for the evening meal, the air heavy with the savory aroma of roasted lamb, freshly baked bread, and herbs from the palace garden. Antinous sat beside Telemachus, while Odysseus, true to form, had once again dragged his chair to be as close to Penelope as possible. The king was practically glued to his wife’s side, occasionally leaning over to steal a kiss, much to the mock annoyance of his son.

As they ate, Penelope dabbed her lips with a napkin and set her utensils down gracefully. She looked around the table, her gaze resting lovingly on Odysseus. “I received some letters today,” she said, her tone light but purposeful.

Odysseus raised an eyebrow, still chewing his food. “Letters?” he asked, his voice muffled.

“Yes,” Penelope said with a knowing smile. “From some of the surrounding kings. They’re asking when would be a good time to come over to greet you now that you’ve returned.”

Odysseus groaned loudly, slumping in his chair as if the mere thought of such obligations exhausted him. “Penneelloooppee,” he drawled, dragging out her name in mock exasperation. “I haven’t even been back for a week!”

Penelope giggled at his theatrics, reaching over to pat his hand affectionately. “I know, my love. That’s why I wrote back to them and told them we’ll be hosting a big gathering in a month’s time. That gives you plenty of time to adjust and prepare.”

Odysseus sat up straight, his expression softening. A wide grin spread across his face as he took her hand in his. “You’re the best, you know that?”

Penelope smiled, her eyes twinkling with amusement. “I do.”

While the two of them exchanged sweet words and glances, Telemachus was completely absorbed in his own conversation with Antinous. Or, more accurately, Telemachus was bombarding him with questions while Antinous did his best to keep up with the rapid fire pace.

“What’s Persia like?” Telemachus asked between bites, his voice laced with genuine curiosity.

Antinous paused for a moment, considering his answer. “Haven’t been since I was eight,” he said simply, reaching for a piece of bread.

Telemachus didn’t skip a beat. “Do you wear silver or gold?”

Antinous chuckled softly at this “Gold,” he replied, glancing at Telemachus out of the corner of his eye.

Telemachus leaned in slightly, his tone growing more curious. “Do you have any other piercings?”

At this, Antinous stiffened slightly, his hand pausing mid air as he reached for his wine cup. He didn’t respond immediately, his expression unreadable. As he grabbed the wine cup and look a sip.
Telemachus frowned and tilted his head, his curiosity only deepening. “Do you have any other piercings?” he repeated, his voice slower this time, as if coaxing an answer out of the older man.

Antinous finally set down his cup and cleared his throat, a faint hint of color rising to his cheeks. “I’m not answering that,” he said firmly, his tone low but not unkind.

Telemachus blinked, surprised by the response. Then, as if trying to piece together the mystery himself, his eyes flicked over Antinous, scanning him from head to toe. His gaze was far too observant for Antinous’s liking, and he shifted uncomfortably in his seat under the scrutiny.

“Stop staring, little wolf” Antinous said with a playful edge to his voice, hoping to deflect the attention.

Telemachus grinned but didn’t stop his appraisal, his curiosity seemingly endless. “Hmm,” he murmured, leaning back in his chair with a mischievous glint in his eyes.
Antinous says “you are never going to see them.” Telemachus says “ah HA! You do have more!”
Antinous sighed and shook his head, muttering under his breath, “I wish I died with the others.”
Telemachus just laughed, clearly enjoying himself as the conversation carried on.
Later that night, in the dim glow of candlelight, Penelope and Odysseus sat together in their shared bedroom, the quiet of the palace surrounding them. Odysseus was sitting at the vanity, his hands gently trying to detangle the unruly mass of his hair. The task was never one he particularly enjoyed, but it had to be done and after not being able to do so for a number of years it was an almost relaxing task. Penelope, watching him with soft eyes, rose from the bed and quietly crossed the room to where he sat.
She reached for the brush in his hand, taking it gently from his grasp. “My wanderer,” she said softly, her voice a gentle lull in the otherwise still room.

Odysseus looked up from the mirror, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “Yes, my lovely water nymph?” he asked, his voice teasing but warm, as he leaned back slightly to let her take over the task.

With a small smile at the name Penelope took the brush and began to work it through his hair the strokes slow and deliberate, as if to offer him a moment of peace. As she worked, her fingers lingering in the strands, she let her thoughts drift, her voice quiet but full of concern. “I do fear that the kings have an alternative motive for coming, besides just seeing you.”

Odysseus raised an eyebrow, his gaze shifting to meet hers in the mirror. “And what reason would that be?” His tone was light, but a hint of curiosity crept into his words.

Penelope paused for a moment, brushing through a particularly tangled knot, before speaking again, her voice filled with a mixture of caution and experience. “Well, many of them have unmarried daughters.”

Odysseus chuckled softly at her words, leaning forward and glancing at her through the reflection. “Even if that’s their goal, our son is already engaged,” he said, a playful glint in his eye.

Penelope’s lips curled into a grin, and she let out a soft laugh. “Even if he doesn’t realize he proposed?” she teased, her voice light and teasing.

Odysseus chuckled, his deep voice rumbling with amusement. “Especially if that’s the case!” He leaned back again, enjoying the sensation of her fingers working through his hair. “Him and Antinous would be so cute together.” He paused, then added with a smile, “And once I train Antinous as my general, he’ll be even stronger. He’ll be a good protector for Telemachus and for Ithaca once we’re gone.”

Penelope’s smile softened, her hands pausing for just a moment as her gaze lingered on him. She leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to the top of his head. “I think you’re right,” she murmured. “They will be good for each other.”

Odysseus smiled at her affection, a rare moment of tenderness between them. His heart swelled with a mix of pride and contentment, knowing that even with all the chaos and uncertainty that had come their way, they still shared these quiet, intimate moments.

“Penelope,” he said quietly, his voice filled with an unspoken affection. “They’ll be the future of Ithaca.”

Chapter Text

Across the hall Telemachus sat cross legged on his bed, the cool light of the moon spilling through the window and casting a soft glow over the room. He was talking animatedly, his voice bright as he recounted his day. “And then Antinous and I went to the incense stall. Oh!” His face lit up, and he sat up straighter. “I put the incense in your temple earlier, Athena. The best quality, of course only for you.”
Athena gracefully sat in the corner of the room, leaning against the wall with a serene smile. Her silvery eyes glimmered in the moonlight as she regarded him fondly. “You always know how to spoil me, little one,” she said gently, her voice warm. “You’ve never once brought me anything less than perfection.”

Telemachus beamed at the praise. “Anything for you,” he said earnestly. “Oh, and I also got storax today for the temple my dad’s building.”

Athena tilted her head, her curiosity piqued. “The one for Dionysus?” she asked, though her tone was light.

He nodded, his grin widening. “Yeah! Antinous primarily worships him, so my dad wanted to make sure he had a place to pray here.”

For a moment, Athena’s serene expression tightened, though she smoothed it over with a small, polite smile. “How thoughtful of him,” she said carefully.
Telemachus caught the slight shift in her tone and raised an eyebrow. “You don’t like Antinous, do you?” he asked, his voice teasing but tinged with curiosity.
Athena let out a soft laugh, walking closer to him and perching lightly on the edge of his bed. “Why would you think that?” she asked, her voice playful but not entirely convincing.

He grinned, leaning forward. “Because you’re terrible at hiding it,” he said knowingly. “Come on, Athena. I can tell.”
Athena sighed softly, reaching out to brush a stray lock of hair from his face in a gesture of affection. “Fine,” she admitted, though her voice was more sweet than sharp. “I don’t dislike him entirely. But…” She paused, her gaze meeting his. “I don’t like the way he treated you before.”

Telemachus blinked, her words catching him off guard. “What do you mean?” he asked quietly.

Her eyes softened, and her voice grew gentler. “I saw how he used to act mocking you, challenging your authority in your own home. He mocked your father’s memory who might I remind you was my friend, He beat you black and blue in forth of the others and didn’t show you the respect you deserved, Telemachus. And I haven’t forgotten that.”

Telemachus hesitated, her words sinking in making him think for a second before “He’s different now,” he softly, almost defensively came from his mouth “He’s changed.”

Athena studied him for a long moment, her expression unreadable, before she finally sighed. “Perhaps he has,” she said, though her tone was careful. Then, with a small, teasing smile, she added, “But I’ve also seen the way you look at him.”
Telemachus froze, his cheeks flushing bright red. “What?” he sputtered. “What do you mean by that?”

Athena chuckled softly, the sound warm and melodic. “Oh, you know exactly what I mean,” she said, her voice laced with humor. “Don’t think I haven’t noticed how your eyes linger a little too long, or how your mood brightens when he’s around.”

Telemachus groaned, burying his face in his hands. “Athena, please,” he mumbled, his voice muffled.

She laughed again, reaching out to gently pat his shoulder. “Relax, little one,” she said kindly. “I’m only teasing you.” Then, with a softer tone, she added, “If he makes you happy, that’s all that matters. But don’t expect me to warm up to him overnight.”

Telemachus peeked at her from between his fingers, his lips twitching into a small smile. “You will,” he said confidently. “He grows on you. Trust me.”
Athena raised an eyebrow, her lips curling into a wry smile. “Like a wart,” she quipped.

Telemachus burst out laughing, the sound bright and full of life. “You’re impossible,” he said, shaking his head.

Athena smiled, her gaze fond as she reached out to ruffle his hair gently. “And you’re far too forgiving,” she said softly. “But that’s why you’re you, Telemachus. Don’t lose that.” She paused, then added with a faint smirk, “Though if Antinous steps out of line again, he’ll have to answer to me. You know how I feel about aimless mortals.”
Telemachus grinned, shaking his head. “Noted,” he said, his voice warm with affection. “But I promise, he’s different now. You’ll see.”
Athena hummed, tilting her head thoughtfully. “We’ll see,” she said lightly. “But for your sake, I’ll give him a chance.” She leaned closer, her tone playful. “Just don’t let it go to his head.”

Telemachus laughed, the sound filling the room. Athena allowed herself one last smile before disappearing as quietly as she had appeared, leaving him to his thoughts and the lingering warmth of her presence.
Meanwhile across the palace grounds.
The bathhouse was silent, save for the faint echo of water lapping against the stone edges. Antinous stepped inside, the warmth from the steam enveloping him instantly. Torches flickered softly along the walls, their light dancing across the smooth surfaces. He sighed, his shoulders heavy with exhaustion, though his restless mind wouldn’t allow him to sleep.
He pulled off his tunic slowly, letting it fall onto the bench beside him. Each piece of clothing was shed methodically, his movements careful in the stillness of the night. When he finally stepped into the steaming water, he let out a long exhale as the heat worked its way through his muscles. Lowering himself until the water reached his shoulders, he leaned his head back against the stone edge and closed his eyes.
For a while, he let the warmth soothe him, the silence broken only by the occasional soft splash of water as he shifted. But as much as he tried to empty his mind, his thoughts began to wander, circling back to the one thing he’d been avoiding: his future.

What kind of life would he build for himself here in Ithaca? Apparently he was a general now so what did that even mean for his future?What kind of man did he want by his side, if he ever allowed himself to want that at all did he even deserve to hope for someone?

He chuckled softly to himself, the sound echoing faintly off the walls. “A kind soul,” he muttered, the words barely audible over the sound of the water. “That would be nice. Someone sweet enough to balance me out.” The corners of his mouth quirked up at the thought. “To offset my… sharper tendencies.”

His fingers lazily traced the surface of the water, ripples spreading outward from his touch. He smiled faintly as his thoughts deepened. “Someone who’s not afraid to call me out when I’m wrong,” he added. “Gods know I’d need that.” He shook his head slightly, the grin growing wider. He didn’t want someone who would blindly agree with him he wanted someone who could hold their own, someone strong enough to challenge him.

His hand stilled in the water as another thought crept in, softer and more vulnerable. “And someone who isn’t ashamed to be seen with me,” he murmured. The grin faded, replaced by a contemplative look. That mattered more than he liked to admit. He wanted someone who could see him flaws, reputation, all of that and still stand proudly beside him.

Leaning his head back, he let his eyes drift shut, the warmth of the water lulling him into a rare moment of ease. He hadn’t thought much about appearances before, but now his mind conjured an image. “Maybe someone shorter than me,” he mused, a chuckle rumbling in his chest. “And fluffy brown hair. And a brilliant smile.. That would be nice.” He let out a quiet laugh. “It’d give me something soft to run my hands through.”

The thought lingered, filling the quiet bathhouse with an unexpected warmth. His lips curved into a wistful smile as the image took clearer shape in his mind. For a brief moment, it felt almost real almost possible.

But then he sighed, shaking his head as his smile turned down slightly. “Too bad I don’t know anyone like that,” he muttered to himself, his voice carrying softly through the steam filled room.

But even as he closed his eyes and sank deeper into the water, letting the warmth lull him into a rare sense of peace, the image of a kind soul with fluffy brown hair and a bright smile lingered, soft and unspoken in the corners of his mind.

Chapter Text

The palace was silent, blanketed in the kind of stillness that only existed before dawn. The sky beyond the windows was still black, the stars still glittering faintly above the hills of Ithaca. Antinous, however, was blissfully unaware of it all, having finally fallen into a deep sleep not fifteen minutes prior. He had been sprawled across his bed, his body utterly exhausted from the night before, the heavy warmth of slumber a rare comfort.

That comfort was abruptly shattered by a thunderous banging at his door.

Antinous groaned, his mind sluggish as he stirred, clutching his blankets closer in protest. The pounding continued, relentless, until he finally pried his eyes open, squinting into the dark room. “By the gods,” he muttered under his breath, rolling out of bed with a blanket still tangled around his shoulders. His feet hit the cold floor as he shuffled to the door, his tunic barely straightened after his bath the night before.

When he pulled open the heavy wooden door, there stood Odysseus, grinning as though he’d slept ten hours and drank three cups of strong wine. His eyes sparkled with energy, the man looking far too awake for this ungodly hour.

Antinous blinked at him, his expression one of complete disbelief. “…Yes?” he croaked, his voice rough with exhaustion.

“It’s time to get up!” Odysseus declared, his tone far too cheerful for someone rousing others before dawn.

Antinous stared at him blankly. “It’s a little early for breakfast, don’t you think?”

“Oh, this isn’t breakfast,” Odysseus said, his grin widening mischievously. “This is training.”

Antinous opened his mouth to argue, but it was too early, and he didn’t have the energy for it. He sighed, running a hand down his face. “Right,” he muttered. “Well, let me at least put on more clothing”

“We don’t have time for that!” Odysseus interrupted with a laugh. Before Antinous could protest further, the king grabbed his arm with an ungodly amount of strength, yanking him forward with the force of a bull. Antinous stumbled, clutching his blanket around him like a makeshift cloak as Odysseus began hauling him through the palace halls.

“Wait what?!” Antinous sputtered, trying and failing to dig his heels into the floor. “I can’t train like this! At least let me put on boots or something”

“No time!” Odysseus called over his shoulder, his short stature doing nothing to detract from the raw power with which he dragged the taller man along. Antinous looked utterly ridiculous barefoot, hair a tangled mess, and still wrapped in his blanket like some half asleep noble child.

His face twisted into a mix of confusion and exasperation, his voice flat as he muttered, “Is this how you treat all your generals?”

Odysseus just laughed, his steps quick and unrelenting as they moved through the palace. “Only the ones who sleep in!” he quipped, clearly enjoying himself far too much.

As they passed through the halls, a few bleary-eyed servants peeked out from side passages, their expressions a mix of confusion and amusement at the sight of their mighty king dragging a very disheveled Antinous through the corridors. Antinous could feel their eyes on him, but at this point, he was too tired to care.

Eventually, he gave up struggling, resigning himself to being hauled along like a sheep to slaughter. “I can’t believe this is my life now,” he muttered under his breath.

Odysseus glanced back at him with an infuriatingly bright grin. “Oh, don’t be so dramatic! You’ll thank me later.”

Antinous just groaned, letting himself be dragged toward whatever absurd training the king had planned, blanket still clutched in one hand like some ridiculous shield against the madness of his new reality.

The sun had just begun to creep over the horizon, casting soft golden hues across the palace grounds, when Odysseus finally released Antinous from their grueling training. Antinous felt like every muscle in his body had been worked to the brink of collapse and then some. Dirt clung to his skin, sweat dripped from his brow, and he felt utterly grimy. His legs ached, his arms burned, and there were muscles in his back he hadn’t even known existed until now, all screaming for mercy.

Stumbling toward the bathhouse, Antinous practically ripped off his tunic as he entered, eager for the soothing embrace of hot water. He disrobed completely and sank into the bath with a groan of relief, the steam rising around him like a comforting blanket. The warmth eased the tension in his body almost instantly, and he tilted his head back, shutting his eyes as he let out a long sigh.

But that moment of tranquility was shattered by a quiet “Oh.”

Antinous’s eyes snapped open, his head jerking up, and across the large bath, as clear as day, sat Telemachus. The little wolf was already there, soaking in the water, his dark hair clinging to his cheeks, and his green eyes wide with surprise.

For a moment, they simply stared at each other, the silence stretching between them like a taut string.

Finally, Telemachus broke it, tilting his head as he said with a grin that could only be described as mischievous to others and downright evil to Antinous, “So… nipples and your dick, huh?”

Antinous groaned, dragging a hand down his face as he leaned back against the edge of the bath. “Yes,” he muttered, his voice laced with exasperation. “Now ask your questions so that we can never talk about this again.”

For a brief second, there was quiet, but then the telltale splashing of water reached his ears. He cracked one eye open, and sure enough, Telemachus had moved closer, now sitting directly beside him, his bright green eyes fixed intently on Antinous’s chest. There was an almost comical level of focus in the prince’s gaze, and Antinous found himself both amused and vaguely mortified.

“Of course,” Antinous muttered to himself, “this is my life now.”

Before he could protest, Telemachus reached out, his fingertips brushing against the silver ring in Antinous’s right nipple. The touch was so soft, feather light, that it sent an involuntary shudder through Antinous’s body. He went rigid, his breath hitching slightly as his face flushed not from the heat of the bath but from sheer embarrassment.

“Did it hurt?” Telemachus asked, his tone genuinely curious as he studied the piercing up close.

Antinous huffed a quiet laugh, leaning his head back against the edge of the bath as he replied, “Little wolf, a needle literally pierced my flesh. What do you think?”

Telemachus hummed thoughtfully, his hand retreating as he mulled over the answer. The bath was quiet again for a moment before he spoke up. “Why?”

Antinous turned his head slightly, giving Telemachus a lazy grin. “Why not?” he countered, shrugging one shoulder. “You have one question left, little prince. Choose wisely.”

Telemachus seemed to take the challenge seriously, his brows furrowing as he stared at the water. After a moment, he looked back up at Antinous and asked, “Why are they silver if you prefer to wear gold?”

Antinous chuckled softly, shaking his head as he ran a hand through his damp hair. “I have to keep these in,” he explained. “I can’t just wear them on special occasions, and silver is easier to replace if I lose them. Practicality, little wolf.”

Telemachus nodded thoughtfully, clearly satisfied with the answer, but before he could say anything else, Antinous raised a hand to stop him. “And with that, you’re out of questions,” he said firmly, giving the prince a pointed look. “Now, if you don’t mind, your father just spent the better part of the morning handing me my ass. Let me relax in peace.”

Telemachus grinned, leaning back against the edge of the bath as he splashed some water in Antinous’s direction. “Alright, alright,” he said, laughing softly. “But you’re very interesting, Antinous. You know that?”

Antinous rolled his eyes, sinking lower into the water with a groan. “Go bother someone else, little wolf,” he muttered, though there was a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

Chapter Text

The dining room was bathed in the warm glow of early morning light, once again the rich smell of fresh bread and honey lingered in the air as everyone gathered for breakfast. Antinous sat slouched in his chair, visibly worn out from his early morning training session and having been ambushed in the bath.Across from him, Telemachus was far more alert, looking very pleased with himself, was helping himself to a generous portion of figs and cheese. Odysseus, looking far too chipper for someone who had been up before dawn, leaned back in his chair with a satisfied grin.
“So,” Odysseus began, his tone casual but his eyes glinting with mischief, “did you boys enjoy your bath this morning?”

Antinous froze, his cup of water halfway to his lips. Slowly, he turned to glare at Odysseus, pointing a finger at him. “You. You planned this, didn’t you?”

Odysseus didn’t bother looking up, instead inspecting his nails as though searching for dirt. “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he said, his voice dripping with mock innocence. He paused, glancing at Antinous with a grin that was anything but innocent. “Although… if I happened to notice that my son was quite curious last night, and if I happened to see him walking toward the bathhouse this morning, well who am I to come between him and the knowledge he so desperately craved?”

Antinous groaned, sinking further into his chair. “You’re insufferable.”

Odysseus ignored him, his grin widening as he added, “Of course, for such a thing to happen, one would need the favor of the goddess of wisdom and the blood of some trickster god running through their veins.” He placed a hand dramatically over his heart cocking his head to the side, flashing them all a cheeky, self satisfied smile before asking “do you know anyone like that?”

Penelope, who had been quietly buttering a piece of bread, finally spoke up, her curiosity piqued. “What happened?” she asked, looking between the three of them with a raised brow.

Antinous, clearly done with the entire ordeal, threw his hands in the air and exclaimed, “After your husband kicked my ass for three hours straight this morning, he sent me to the baths. And guess who was already there waiting? The little wolf!”

Penelope blinked, her lips twitching as she tried and failed to hide her amusement. “Oh my,” she said softly, covering her mouth as she giggled.

Telemachus, looking entirely unbothered, popped a fig into his mouth and grinned at Antinous. “I wasn’t waiting for you,” he said, feigning innocence. “I was already there. Coincidence, that’s all.”

Antinous shot him a look. “Right. Sure.”

Penelope laughed again, her eyes sparkling as she turned to Odysseus. “Darling, you’ve barely been back a week, and you’re already meddling.”

Odysseus shrugged, entirely unrepentant. “What can I say? It’s a gift.” He raised his cup in a mock toast. “To fate, the gods, and well-timed encounters.”

Antinous groaned again, pinching the bridge of his nose. “If this is what breakfast is going to be like every day, I’m going to need a lot more wine.”

Odysseus with his grin never faltering says “That sounds like something Dionysus would approve of.”

“Maybe I’ll pray to him to drive me even more mad because it can’t be worse than this,” Antinous muttered, earning a laugh from both Odysseus and Penelope.

The warm atmosphere of breakfast was briefly interrupted as Penelope, always the picture of grace and control, delicately wiped her lips with a napkin and said, “Oh, by the way, Helen and Menelaus are arriving a bit early. They should be here by the end of the week.”

The words hung in the air for a moment.

Odysseus, who had been halfway through a bite of bread, froze. His eyes widened, and suddenly he was coughing and spluttering, thumping his chest as he tried to swallow. “Menelaus is coming here?” he croaked, his voice uncharacteristically strained.

Telemachus tilted his head in confusion, frowning. “What’s wrong, Father? Menelaus told me you fought together in the Trojan War. Surely you’re excited to see him again?”

Odysseus shifted uncomfortably in his chair, his gaze flickering toward the windows as though considering escape. “Of course, I am,” he said, though his voice lacked conviction.

Penelope narrowed her eyes, her sharp intuition instantly picking up on her husband’s guilty demeanor. She placed her fork down and turned fully toward him, her brow raised in suspicion. “Odysseus,” she said slowly, her tone edged with curiosity and warning, “what did you do?”

“Nothing, my love,” Odysseus replied too quickly, flashing her his most innocent smile the one that hadn’t fooled her even once in over twenty years of marriage.

She folded her arms and gave him the look. The one that could break even the most hardened warrior.

Odysseus sighed, visibly wilting under her gaze. “Well…” He hesitated, rubbing the back of his neck and glancing at Telemachus and Antinous, both of whom were watching him with barely contained curiosity. Finally, he cleared his throat and muttered, “The night before we were supposed to leave Troy, I may or may not have… cut a hole in the butt of all his clothes.”

The room fell silent for half a beat.

Penelope’s fork clattered onto her plate. Her mouth opened and closed in disbelief before she shouted, “Odysseus, you didn’t!”

Antinous, who had been sipping his water, choked and then burst into laughter so hard that he slid off his chair and onto the floor.

Telemachus’s eyes went wide, and he sputtered, “You! why would you do that?”

Odysseus shrugged helplessly, his lips twitching in a sheepish grin. “It was meant to be a harmless joke! I figured he’d notice before putting them on…” He trailed off, his guilty expression deepening. “But apparently, he didn’t” with a brief pause he continued “although with the wind that day, that’s honestly on him if he didn’t notice the butt draft.”

Penelope pinched the bridge of her nose, a mix of exasperation and disbelief flashing across her face. “Odysseus, you humiliated one of the most powerful kings in Greece.”

“It was years ago!” Odysseus protested, holding up his hands defensively. “He’s probably forgotten by now.”

“Do you know Menelaus?” Penelope retorted.

Antinous, still sprawled on the floor, wheezed between bouts of laughter. “This! this is the man who outsmarted Troy’s greatest warriors. And his idea of a parting gift was” He dissolved into another fit of laughter, clutching his stomach.

Odysseus huffed, crossing his arms. “Well, when you put it like that, it sounds worse than it was.”

Penelope shook her head, burying her face in her hands. “The gods help me. I married a child.”

Odysseus leaned over and pressed a kiss to her temple. “But you love me anyway, my water nymph.”

She sighed but couldn’t help the faint smile that tugged at her lips. “I’m going to make you explain this to Menelaus yourself.”

“Fair enough,” Odysseus muttered, though the nervous glance he shot toward the door suggested he wasn’t entirely prepared for that conversation.

Meanwhile, Antinous managed to climb back into his chair, tears streaming down his face from laughing so hard slighly wheezing for air. “ oh this is so worth my humiliation,” he said, grinning at Telemachus, who just shook his head, looking equal parts amused and horrified.

Chapter Text

The docks were alive with the gentle creak of wood and the salty spray of the sea as Penelope, Odysseus, Telemachus, and Antinous stood waiting for their esteemed guests. The ship carrying Helen and Menelaus was a grand vessel, its sails catching the early morning breeze as it glided toward the port.

Penelope stood tall, her excitement tempered by her usual grace, while Telemachus fidgeted slightly, unable to contain his anticipation. Antinous, standing just a step behind, observed the approaching ship with mild disinterest, arms crossed. Odysseus, however, hung back, his expression unreadable as he gazed at the rippling water with something that looked suspiciously like dread.

As the ship finally docked, Helen was the first to step down. Draped in silks of shimmering gold and ivory, her beauty seemed almost otherworldly, though her warm smile softened the impression of untouchable perfection. Penelope’s face lit up immediately, and she hurried forward to embrace her cousin tightly.

“Helen,” Penelope said warmly, “welcome home, cousin. It’s been far too long.”

Antinous tilted his head, eyeing Helen with a critical, almost skeptical gaze. He leaned slightly toward Telemachus and muttered under his breath, “That’s the face that launched a thousand ships?”

Telemachus shot him a sharp glare, his foot swiftly descending on Antinous’s with a not so gentle stomp. Antinous bit back a wince, his composure intact save for a slight twitch in his jaw. Telemachus ignored him entirely, stepping forward with a bright smile to greet his mother’s cousin. “Helen! It’s wonderful to see you again,” he said, embracing her politely.

Odysseus, meanwhile, stayed back, his eyes fixed on the water as though it held the answer to a question he hadn’t asked out loud. Leaning toward Antinous, he muttered low enough that only the general could hear, “Do think if I jumped in right now, Poseidon would do me the favor and kill me?”

Antinous raised an eyebrow, glancing between Odysseus and the ship. “What in Hades are you talking about?” he asked, genuinely confused.

Before Odysseus could answer, a second figure appeared at the top of the gangplank. Antinous’s confusion turned to mild alarm as he took in the towering figure of Menelaus. The man was a giant easily taller than Antinous himself, who already stood at an imposing six feet. With broad shoulders, a strong jawline, and fiery red hair, Menelaus exuded an aura of power and command.

Antinous felt his eyebrows shoot up involuntarily. Glancing at Odysseus, who was now visibly bracing himself, he then grinned, “This is going to be a fun visit.”

Menelaus descended the gangplank with ease, his sharp blue eyes scanning the group before landing on Penelope. His stern expression melted into a warm smile as he approached her, opening his arms for an embrace. Penelope welcomed him graciously, hugging him as she had Helen.

“Penelope,” Menelaus said, his deep voice carrying easily over the waves. “It’s good to see you again.”

“And you,” Penelope replied with a smile. “Welcome to Ithaca.”

Menelaus turned his attention to Telemachus, his piercing gaze softening into something more affectionate. Placing a large, calloused hand on the young man’s shoulder, he said, “It’s good to see you again as well, lad. The wolf fur suits you very fitting for a prince of Ithaca.”

Telemachus glanced down at the fur cloak draped over his shoulders, then smiled politely. “Thank you, but it’s not mine,” he admitted, glancing briefly at Antinous. “It belongs to him Antinous. He’s the new general of the army.”

At this, Menelaus turned his attention to Antinous, sizing him up with a calculating gaze. Antinous, ever the picture of composure, stepped forward and inclined his head respectfully. “King Menelaus,” he said smoothly. “It is an honor to meet you. I am Antinous, general of Ithaca’s army, and a loyal servant to its king and queen.”

Menelaus gave a short nod, his expression unreadable but not unfriendly. “A general, hm?” he said, his voice thoughtful. “A good general is worth his weight in gold. I trust Odysseus has trained you well?”

Antinous’s lips quirked into a wolfish smile “I have been lucky enough to learn under one of the best,” he replied, shooting a glance at Odysseus.

Helen, who had been standing quietly beside her husband, now turned to Penelope with an approving smile. “Your general is very polite,” she remarked softly, her tone almost teasing.

Penelope’s eyes sparkled with amusement as she returned her cousin’s smile. “He has his moments,” Something unspoken passed between the two women, an entire conversation carried in a single look. At Helen’s unspoken question, Penelope gave a subtle, knowing nod.

Meanwhile, Odysseus stood a little apart from the group, his face carefully blank as he endured Menelaus’s scrutinizing gaze. Antinous, catching the look on his king’s face, bit back a grin.
They began making their way toward the palace, Odysseus leaned closer to him, his voice low and amused. “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”
Antinous allowed the faintest grin to slip through. “Immensely.”

Chapter Text

The group made their way back to the palace, the breeze from the sea cooling the warmth of the Ithacan sun. Birds chirped from the trees lining the road, and the smell of salt lingered in the air. Penelope and Helen walked together in, their heads close as they exchanged pleasantries and laughter about times long past. Behind them, Menelaus strode beside Odysseus, the two men falling into a quiet but comfortable rhythm as they took in the familiar yet distant land. Telemachus and Antinous trailed slightly behind, their banter occasionally catching the attention of the others ahead. Telemachus was uncharacteristically quiet as they walked. His mind was swirling with thoughts of Helen who through her beauty had inadvertently cost his father 20 years of his life awayfrom his family, of Menelaus and his towering frame, and, to his dismay, of Antinous. He didn’t know what it was, but something about the man seemed to occupy too much space in his thoughts lately. His teasing grin, his sharp eyes, the way he carried himself with confidence that often bordered on arrogance. Telemachus sighed and shook his head as if to clear it, but his distraction cost him.

The road sloped slightly downward, with loose pebbles scattered across its surface. Telemachus’s foot caught on one, and he stumbled forward, arms flailing slightly in an effort to regain his balance. Before he could hit the ground, a strong hand shot out and gripped his his waist firmly, steadying him.

“Careful there, little wolf,” Antinous said, his voice laced with amusement as he pulled Telemachus upright. He didn’t immediately let go, his grip lingering just long enough for Telemachus to feel the heat of it through the fabric of his clothes.

“I was fine,” Telemachus muttered, pullimg himself away as soon as he found his footing. His face burned with embarrassment, though he tried to cover it by brushing nonexistent dust from his tunic.

Antinous gave him a grin that could only be described as wicked. “Are you sure? Because it looked like you were falling for me,” he said, his tone dripping with playful mockery.

Telemachus’s blush deepened, his ears turning a noticeable shade of red. He glared at Antinous, feeling his pulse quicken—not with anger but something he didn’t want to name. “Don’t flatter yourself,” he snapped, shoving Antinous lightly in the chest.

Antinous barely moved, standing rooted to the spot like an immovable rock. “I don’t need to flatter myself, little wolf,” he said with a smirk, watching Telemachus’s reaction with obvious delight.

The younger man huffed, his scowl deepening as he turned on his heel and marched forward with his back ramrod straight. His mother’s warm voice floated back to him, but he couldn’t focus on her words. All he could hear was the echo of Antinous’s teasing tone, and it made him bristle all over again.
Antinous followed a few steps behind, his grin widening as he watched Telemachus’s stiff, hurried steps. “You’re welcome, by the way!” he called out, his voice light and teasing. Telemachus didn’t dignify him with a response, though the blush creeping down his neck said enough. Up ahead, Penelope and Helen had paused their conversation to glance back at the commotion. Penelope’s lips curled into a knowing smile, her eyes sparkling with amusement.
“That man certainly knows how to get under Telemachus’s skin,” Helen murmured, her voice warm but curious.

Penelope nodded slightly, her gaze softening as she watched her son’s reaction. “Oh, he does,” she said with a chuckle.

Menelaus, who had also turned to observe the exchange, leaned toward Penelope. “I didn’t realize the prince had a proclivity for men,” he said under his breath, his tone quiet and matter-of-fact.

Penelope’s smile didn’t falter as she replied just as softly, “when we’re somewhere more private I do have a delightful secret to tell you both.” She gave Helen a small nod, silently signaling that she’d fill them in when the moment was right. Helen raised an eyebrow but returned the nod, her curiosity clearly piqued.

Odysseus, walking beside Menelaus, had been silent during the exchange. Though his gaze was fixed on the horizon, the faint twitch at the corner of his mouth betrayed his amusement. there was a glint of pride in his eyes both for his son and for the dynamic between him and Antinous.

Telemachus, oblivious to the quiet observations of the group, continued his brisk pace toward the palace. His heart was still racing, but he convinced himself it was from the stumble and not from the way Antinous’s hand had lingered on around his waist or the grin that refused to leave his mind. Antinous, meanwhile, trailed behind with his usual air of confidence, content to let the moment simmer. As they reached the gates of the palace, he allowed himself a quiet chuckle, already planning his next move to unsettle the little wolf just a little more.

Chapter Text

utensils and the warm aroma of roasted meats and fresh bread. Everyone sat around the long table, plates being filled by attentive servants as conversation flowed freely. The midday sun streamed through the high windows, bathing the room in golden light. Menelaus, seated across from Odysseus who as has become the usual is right next to Penelope, leaned back in his chair with a grin that hinted at an upcoming tale. “So, let me tell you all about a certain incident during the war,” he began, his booming voice immediately commanding attention.

Odysseus, mid bite of roasted lamb, paused and raised an eyebrow at his old comrade. “Menelaus,” he said warningly, his tone both amused and apprehensive, “choose your words carefully.”

Menelaus ignored him entirely, his grin widening. “Do you all know Little Ajax? Not the big brute, mind you the smaller one maybe thirteen when the war started,Fine warrior, good lad, but not exactly the brightest star in the sky.”

Telemachus, sitting beside Antinous, tilted his head curiously. “I’ve heard of him. What did he do?”

Menelaus chuckled and leaned forward slightly, addressing the whole table. “Well, during one particularly windy day, Little Ajax managed to lose his entire tent. Didn’t stake it down properly, and the wind just carried it off like a sailboat. He tried to retrieve it, but by the time he caught up, it was torn to shreds.”

Antinous snorted into his cup, already amused. “So, what did he do? Sleep under the stars?”

“Oh, no,” Menelaus said with a smirk, glancing at Odysseus, who was now rubbing his temples as though bracing himself. “He ended up sharing a tent with this one.” He jabbed a thumb in Odysseus’s direction.

The table stilled for a moment before Penelope leaned forward, a sly smile on her face. “And how did that go?” she asked, clearly relishing the chance to hear an embarrassing story about her husband.

Menelaus grinned, clearly enjoying himself. “Not well, Penelope. Not well at all. You see, Odysseus here has a habit of talking in his sleep. I’ll never forget it he spent the whole night going on and on about you and your son. At first, it was sweet. He wouldn’t shut up about how perfect you were, how beautiful you were, and how much he missed his baby boy.”

Penelope’s smile softened, a faint blush rising to her cheeks. “Well, I can’t fault him for that,” she said, her voice warm with affection.

Odysseus groaned, slouching back in his chair. “Menelaus, I swear to the gods”

Menelaus held up a hand, cutting him off. “I’m not done yet! The real problem came when Odysseus finally fell asleep.” He paused for dramatic effect, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

Telemachus leaned forward eagerly. “What happened?”

Menelaus smirked. “He started giggling in his sleep. Not just once or twice, mind you. All night long, he’d let out these little chuckles and mutter, ‘Penelope, stop it.’ Over and over again.

His tone then turned deadly serious. “Ajax came to me the next morning, looking like he hadn’t slept in weeks, and begged to sleep in my tent until we got him a new one. Said he couldn’t handle another night of ‘Penelope, stop it.’”

The table erupted into laughter. Even Helen, who was usually more reserved, let out a soft chuckle behind her hand.

Antinous nearly choked on his wine, doubling over as he laughed. “You mean to tell me the great Odysseus, giggled in his sleep like a prepubescent boy?”

Odysseus waved a hand dismissively, though his ears were noticeably red. “It was a long war, and I missed my wife. Can you blame me?”

Odysseus groaned, burying his face in his hands. “Menelaus, I hate you.”
“You love me,” Menelaus corrected with a grin.

Telemachus, still trying to process the story, shook his head. “I think I understand why Little Ajax went to Menelaus. I don’t think I’d survive that, either.”

Penelope reached over and placed a comforting hand on her husband’s arm, though her eyes were still sparkling with amusement. “Oh, my wanderer,” she said fondly, “you’re just full of surprises, aren’t you?”

Odysseus sighed dramatically, looking toward the ceiling as though pleading with the gods. “I survived a decade of war and another fighting god and goddesses for this.”
Antinous, still grinning, leaned over toward Telemachus. “So, how many more embarrassing stories do you think Menelaus has about your father?”

Telemachus gave him a flat look. “Hopefully not many more.”

Menelaus chuckled. “Oh, I’ve got plenty. But I’ll save them for another time.”

Helen, who had been quietly observing the table with a soft smile, turned to Penelope. “Your general seems to get along quite well with your son,” she commented lightly.

Penelope glanced at Antinous, who was currently attempting to swipe another piece of food from Telemachus’s plate while the younger man batted his hand away.
And said to Helen “would you care to take a walk with me in the garden after lunch?”
To which Helen replied with a smile “I’d love to”

Chapter Text

The soft crunch of grass under their sandals echoed through the peaceful garden as Penelope and Helen walked side by side, their conversation light at first as they admired the vibrant blooms around them. The sun bathed the space in golden light, and a light breeze carried the scent of jasmine and lavender. It felt, in some ways, like stepping back in time.
“This reminds me of when we were children,” Helen mused, her voice soft with nostalgia. She reached out to brush her fingers along the petals of a blooming rose. “Walking through the gardens, whispering secrets about the boys we fancied.”

Penelope laughed, the sound light and musical. “And getting scolded for climbing the olive trees in our dresses. Gods, I haven’t thought about those days in so long.”

Helen gave her a playful nudge. “We were fearless back then.”

Penelope smirked. “And now we’re just a little wiser. Emphasis on a little.”

Helen chuckled, her eyes sparkling, before her tone shifted. “Speaking of whispers about boys… what’s going on with those two?” She tilted her head slightly toward the palace, clearly referring to Telemachus and Antinous.

Penelope sighed, her smile softening as she clasped her hands loosely in front of her. “Well,” she began, her voice laden with maternal affection, “they’re engaged.”

Helen’s face lit up instantly. “That’s wonderful news!” she exclaimed, beginning to turn back toward the palace. “I should go congratulate them”

“Not so fast, sunshine. It’s a bit complicated” Penelope grabbed Helen’s arm, her tone teasing but her grip firm. Helen stopped mid step, turning back with a confused expression.

“What?” Helen asked, her brow furrowing. “They’re engaged. What’s complicated about it?”

“It’s more complicated than you think,” Penelope said, a mischievous gleam in her eye.

Helen laughed, her confusion growing. “Penelope, is this some kind of arranged marriage situation? Because if so, that’s hardly uncommon, and they seem well matched”

“No,” Penelope interrupted, her grin widening. “It’s not arranged. They got engaged and didn’t even realize it.”

Helen blinked, her jaw dropping slightly. She stared at Penelope for a long moment before throwing her hands up in disbelief. “HOW THE HELL CAN THAT HAPPEN?”

Penelope giggled, placing a finger to her lips. “Shh. Don’t shout, Helen.”

Helen huffed, lowering her voice only slightly. Mumbling a brief sorry before asking“How the hell can that happen?”

Penelope’s laugh came bubbling out again as she shook her head, clearly reveling in the absurdity of the situation. “It’s a long story, but here’s the short version: Antinous has an extreme fondness for apples. Once he became one of our allies, Telemachus, being the sweet boy he is, started keeping more apples around the palace.”

Helen nodded slowly, her confusion still evident. “Okay… I’m with you so far.”

“Well,” Penelope continued, “that would’ve been fine. But after Odysseus cleared out the palace of all the suitors and may the gods preserve me, Helen, the way my precious Ody cleared out the vile men from our home”

Helen rolled her eyes with exaggerated fondness at Penelope’s fawning over her husband. “Your precious Ody,” she said dryly.

Penelope ignored the jab and carried on. “After Antinous woke up from being knocked out, he was starving. Telemachus, ever the thoughtful one, threw him an apple.”

Helen’s brow furrowed. “And?”

“And Antinous caught it and ate it.”

Penelope paused, her grin widening as she waited for Helen to piece it together.

Helen’s jaw dropped, her hand flying to her mouth. “No!”

Penelope just nodded, her eyes gleaming with amusement.

Helen was quiet for a moment, processing. Then she muttered, “But that’s… but the whole ‘throwing an apple’ thing… that’s… isn’t that”

“An informal proposal of marriage? Oh, absolutely.” Penelope smiled brightly.

Helen just stared at her, dumbfounded. “They accidentally got engaged because Telemachus threw him an apple?”

“Precisely,” Penelope said, clearly enjoying this more than she should.

Helen let out a breathless laugh, shaking her head in disbelief. “But they’re totally gay for each other, right?”

“Obviously,” Penelope said with a smirk. “But they haven’t realized it yet.”

Helen’s laughter rang out through the garden, the sound carrying on the breeze. “Oh, Penelope,” she said, wiping at her eyes. “I missed you. And your utterly chaotic family,one that seems to be growing might I add.” She said with an affectionate smile

“And I missed you,” Penelope replied, linking her arm with Helen’s as they strolled deeper into the garden. “Welcome back to Ithaca, dear cousin. Where it seems there will never be a dull moment.”

As the two women made their way further through the lush garden, Penelope tilted her head toward Helen with a sly grin. “By the way, how did your husband react to my dear husband’s utterly stupid prank?”

Helen stopped walking for a moment, a mischievous smile spreading across her face. “Oh, you mean the infamous hole in the butt clothes incident?”

Penelope laughed, nodding. “Yes, that one. I can’t believe Odysseus actually did that. Menelaus must have been furious.”

Helen’s grin only grew wider as she leaned in slightly, lowering her voice as though sharing a delicious secret. “Oh, he was, at first. But after a while…” She gave a theatrical pause, her eyes sparkling. “We turned them around and used them for… recreational activities during the colder months.”

Penelope froze, her jaw dropping as she processed what Helen had just said. “You what?”

Helen’s laughter rang out, rich and carefree, as she patted Penelope on the arm. “Oh, don’t look so scandalized, Penelope. Not with how affectionate you and your “dear Odysseus” are and how quickly Telemachus was born after you got married and plus I thought you’d appreciate a bit of ingenuity!”

For a moment, Penelope could only stare at her cousin in wide eyed disbelief before a slow smile crept onto her face. She shook her head in amazement, muttering, “That’s… that’s genius.”

“Isn’t it?” Helen replied, clearly pleased with herself.

Penelope let out a breathless laugh, still shaking her head. “Gods help me, Helen. You’re even craftier than Odysseus.”

“Of course I am,” Helen said, winking. “Someone has to keep your husband in line because you my dear just encourage it!”

Chapter Text

The men who remained at the table, wine cups still half-full and the faint hum of conversation lingering in the room. Odysseus stretched in his chair and turned to Menelaus, his grin sharp and mischievous.

“Want to fight with swords?” he asked casually, as though he were proposing a simple game of dice.

Menelaus raised an eyebrow before a smirk tugged at his lips. “That sounds great.” Without hesitation, both men stood, cracking their knuckles and rolling their shoulders in preparation, leaving Antinous and Telemachus behind at the table.

Antinous watched them go, shaking his head with mild amusement before his gaze flicked to Telemachus, who was still seated, looking down at the table with his brow slightly furrowed as though deep in thought. Antinous leaned forward, resting his chin on his hand and tilting his head.

“You’re so cute when you’re thinking,” Antinous teased, a lazy grin spreading across his face as he reached out to poke Telemachus lightly in the cheek.

Telemachus snapped out of his thoughts and glared at him, swatting his hand away. “If you don’t stop,” he said with deadly calm, “I’m ripping your nipple bars out.”

Antinous immediately recoiled, a shiver running down his spine as his hands instinctively flew to his chest. “Alright, alright, little wolf. You win!” he said with a nervous laugh, leaning back in his chair as if putting more distance between them might protect him.

Telemachus simply rolled his eyes, muttering, “Idiot,” under his breath, though a small smirk tugged at the corners of his mouth.

Antinous, recovering his composure, gave a playful grin. “You’re scary, you know that?”

“You don’t even know the half of it,” Telemachus quipped, taking another sip of his drink as Antinous watched him with both amusement and a hint of caution.

Antinous watched Telemachus as the latter absently traced his finger along the rim of his cup, a far-off look in his eyes. Antinous leaned forward, his voice softer than usual, almost hesitant.

“Were you ever lonely?” he asked.

Telemachus looked up at him, startled by the question. He blinked, and then his expression shifted into something guarded. “Lonely?” Antinous nodded and clarified “when your father was gone for that twenty years” Telemachus just looked at him for a minute before a small, bitter laugh escaping his lips. “How could I have been lonely? There were 200 people in the palace at all times.”

Antinous tilted his head, unconvinced. “Yeah, but I never saw you go out with any friends. No one ever came to visit you either.”

Telemachus looked away, his fingers tightening slightly around the cup. “Antinous, I was a prince,” he said with a dry chuckle, though there was no humor in it. “And not just any prince a prince whose mother was being courted by 108 men, all vying for the throne. I didn’t have time for friends. I didn’t even have time for myself.” He laughed again, but this time it was hollow. “I am alone.”

For a moment, the only sound in the room was the faint clinking of dishes as servants cleared the remnants of lunch. Antinous stared at Telemachus, his usually playful expression replaced by something serious, something soft.

Without a word, Antinous leaned over the table and cupped Telemachus’s face in his hand. His thumb brushed gently across Telemachus’s cheek, and the prince froze, his eyes wide with surprise.

“was,” Antinous said firmly, his voice low but steady.

Telemachus blinked. “What?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Was,” Antinous repeated, holding his gaze. “You are no longer alone.”

Telemachus’s breath hitched, his cheeks warming under Antinous’s touch. For once, he didn’t have a sharp retort or a sarcastic quip. He just sat there, staring into Antinous’s eyes, his mind struggling to process the weight of those words.

Antinous let his hand drop and leaned back in his chair, a small smile playing on his lips. “Just thought you should know,” he said casually, picking up his cup as though he hadn’t just turned Telemachus’s world upside down.

Telemachus stayed silent, his heart pounding as he tried to gather his thoughts. For the first time in a long time, he didn’t feel quite so alone.
Antinous then got up and stretched before saying “I think I’m going to go take a bath, and this is a warning not an invitation to join little wolf” Telemachus just stuck out his tongue before smiling at Antinous retreating form.

Chapter Text

The courtyard was alive with the faint murmur of servants going about their tasks and the soothing rustle of the wind weaving through olive trees, their silvery leaves shimmering in the afternoon sun. Yet all attention in the bustling space was inevitably drawn to the center, where two warriors danced in a test of skill. Odysseus and Menelaus, both grizzled veterans of wars long past, moved with a fluid grace that belied their years. Each held a sword loosely in hand, their stances deceptively relaxed but keenly alert as they circled each other, the air between them crackling with a tension born of rivalry and camaraderie.
“Come on, old man,” Menelaus called out, a teasing smirk curving his lips as he feinted to the left before lunging forward with a playful swing. “Is Ithaca making you soft? You’re slower than I remember.”

Odysseus sidestepped the strike with a laugh, his blade flashing up to deflect Menelaus’s. “Soft? You wound me, Spartan,” he shot back, his grin sharp. “Perhaps your memory is failing you in your old age.”

Menelaus barked a laugh, retreating a step to readjust his footing, the playful glint in his eyes undimmed. “Speaking of old age,” he said, flicking his wrist to test the weight of his sword, “is your family expanding?” Odysseus hesitated, the barest flicker of curiosity passing across his face before he arched a brow. “Depends on how you mean,” he replied, his tone light but his eyes watchful as he parried Menelaus’s next swing with practiced ease.

“Oh, don’t worry,” Menelaus chuckled, advancing again with a stronger strike. “I’m not implying you’ve got another little one on the way, old man. I was referring to the lion that’s been shadowing your baby boy like a fly to honey.”

Odysseus danced out of range, his grin widening. He brought his sword up in a smooth arc to tap Menelaus lightly on the ribs. “Ah, you mean my general,” he said innocently, though his voice practically dripped with mischief.

“Yes, that one.” Menelaus grinned as he blocked the next jab and stepped back, a glimmer of amusement lighting his features. “Antinous, is it? Quite the watchful shadow. Seems to me like he’s more interested in Telemachus than his duties.”

At this, Odysseus’s grin became positively wolfish. He twirled his sword lazily, taking a step back to widen the space between them. “Oh, Menelaus,” he said with a low, rumbling chuckle, “I do believe I’ll be gaining a son in law.”

Menelaus threw his head back in laughter, shaking it in disbelief. “By the gods, Odysseus, you sound far too smug about that. Are you not at all concerned about the lion you’ve invited into your palace?”

“Concerned?” Odysseus asked, his voice calm but brimming with pride. He brought his blade up in time to meet Menelaus’s renewed strike, the clash of metal ringing through the air. “Not in the slightest. Telemachus may be a little wolf as Antinous so poetically puts it but even wolves need someone to guard their backs. And tell me, my friend, who better than a lion?”

Menelaus’s lips twitched into a reluctant smile as he eased back, lowering his blade momentarily. “You’re playing a dangerous game, my friend,” he said, though his tone was more amusement than warning. “But I’ll admit… the two of them do seem what’s the word? fitting.”

“Fitting?” Odysseus echoed, his grin widening as he rested his sword on his shoulder, his posture entirely unbothered. “Now that’s an understatement. Telemachus doesn’t know it yet, but they’re already bound. And knowing Antinous, that lion won’t let go of something or someone he’s claimed.”

Menelaus tilted his head slightly, raising a skeptical brow. “You sound awfully confident for a man whose son has no idea he’s been snared.”

Odysseus’s voice softened, though his confidence remained unwavering. “I’ve seen the way Antinous looks at him,” he said, his gaze distant as if recalling a moment. “And more importantly, I’ve seen the way Telemachus is starting to look back. It’s a matter of time, Menelaus. Only a matter of time.” Shaking his head, Menelaus let out another laugh, lifting his sword back into position. “Here’s hoping they figure it out sooner rather than later. In the meantime, old man, show me if you’ve still got fight left in those creaky bones of yours.”

Odysseus’s grin sharpened, and with a flourish of his blade, he stepped forward to meet the Spartan’s challenge. The sound of clashing swords rang out once more, their laughter mingling with the metallic symphony as they sparred in the courtyard.

Chapter Text

The grand dining hall was warm and inviting, the dim glow of candlelight flickering across the table where Penelope, Odysseus, Helen, Menelaus,Telemachus, and Antinous were seated The soft hum of conversation filled the air, interrupted only by the occasional clink of utensils.
Helen, ever graceful, leaned slightly toward Menelaus, a quiet smile playing on her lips as she exchanged a few soft words with him. Menelaus, in turn, nodded with a gentle grin, the ease between them reflecting years of understanding. The room, though alive with chatter, had a sense of comfort, the rich smells of the meal filling the air.

Odysseus, seated next to Penelope, caught sight of Telemachus across from him. He exchanged a small smile with his son before returning his attention to the conversation at hand. Antinous, ever watchful, was seated next to Telemachus, though his eyes seemed to linger on the prince more often than necessary.

Then, without warning, every single candle in the room was snuffed out in an instant, plunging the hall into complete darkness. A hushed gasp echoed from around the table as the peaceful ambiance was replaced by an eerie quiet.

And then, breaking the silence like a well placed bomb, a voice as smooth as velvet filled the room. “Your WITCHeness is here!”

The dramatic flair of the voice sent a ripple of surprise and tension through the gathered guests. Penelope’s eyes widened in surprise, and Telemachus stiffened, his gaze darting toward his father for reassurance. But Odysseus, ever unfazed, only rolled his eyes, muttering under his breath, “More like your bitchyness is here.”

There was a brief moment of stillness, and then, as if summoned by Odysseus’s words, the candles flared back to life, casting a soft, warm glow across the hall. In the doorway, a woman stood, her presence as striking as it was sudden.

She wore a flowing two peice gown of soft, rose colored fabric, which clung to her form with an almost ethereal elegance. The gown shimmered faintly in the candlelight, catching the golden undertones of her sun kissed skin. A delicate golden belt cinched her waist, and gold bands wrapped around her upper arms, adding a regal touch to her already commanding presence. Her long hair, cascading down her back, was adorned with pink flowers, placed with careful attention. Behind her stood eight girls, their appearances deceptively youthful but with an ancient quality that spoke of far greater years.

In her hands, Circe carried a large roasted pig, its crispy skin glistening in the candlelight. She walked forward with the grace of a queen, her every step drawing attention.

Odysseus raised an eyebrow, his voice skeptical but tinged with amusement. “Circe, that better not be a person,” he called out, narrowing his eyes at the pig in her hands.

Circe, with a playful roll of her eyes, set the pig down on the table with a flourish. “Relax, oh great King of Trouble. Hermes gave it to me,” she teased, her voice full of lighthearted mischief. Her gaze shifted to Penelope, and a warm smile spread across her face. She approached the queen, her presence commanding yet soothing.

“You must be Penelope,” Circe said, her voice now softer, almost melodic. “I must say, Odysseus didn’t lie when he said you were beautiful, but he didn’t tell me you were this gorgeous.”

Penelope tilted her head with a graceful smile, clearly flattered, though she could not help but feel a sense of wariness at the enchantress’s sudden appearance. Her gaze met Circe’s, a slight curiosity in her eyes.

Circe’s keen eyes, always observant, soon landed on Penelope’s ears. The subtle points caught her attention, and a mischievous grin tugged at her lips. She stepped closer, leaning in slightly. “Oh my,” Circe purred, “You’re part nymph, aren’t you? How wonderful!”

Penelope blinked, momentarily surprised. It was true, of course she had always known of her heritage but no one had ever noticed before. She let out a soft laugh. “I am, on my mother’s side,” she replied, smiling at Circe’s keen observation.

Odysseus, watching the exchange, couldn’t help but chuckle. “See? I told you she was full of surprises,” he murmured to Penelope with affection, his voice warm with amusement.

Circe, clearly pleased by her own discovery, took a seat across from Antinous and on the other side of Penelope, her presence settling into the room she waves her finger and out of thin air poof there are more chairs at the table for her nymphs. There was something about her a magnetic energy that both intrigued and unsettled. As the conversation resumed, the atmosphere in the hall began to shift once again, the tension ebbing away, leaving in its place an almost comfortable familiarity.

Meanwhile, as the meal continued, Penelope feeling at ease with the situation pulled one of the younger nymphs from Circe’s entourage onto her lap. The child, no older than four or five years, giggled as Penelope began to play with her hair, weaving tiny braids and tugging at the golden strands. Penelope’s gentle laughter filled the air, a soft contrast to the ongoing playful banter between Odysseus and Circe.

Helen, sitting across the table, noticed Penelope’s ease with the young nymph and leaned over to Menelaus, whispering, “Penelope has such a soft spot for children” she then looks down a frown gracing her lips. “If it weren’t for me and the stupid war she probably would have had a dozen little ones roaming the halls”

Menelaus glanced at Penelope, then back at his wife, a knowing smile tugging at his lips. “I don’t think she holds it against you,” he remarked, his voice low but filled with knowledge and comfort for his wif.

The night carried on, the conversation lightening as Circe and Odysseus exchanged playful jabs and Penelope continued her gentle play with the nymph. The candlelight flickered, casting soft shadows across the room as the unexpected guest and the familiar faces came together, forming a strange yet undeniable bond in the shared warmth of the meal.

Circe herself seemed utterly at ease. She sipped from a goblet, the flickering light catching the golden accents of her attire, as her mischievous eyes darted around the table. Helen, ever curious and tactful, leaned forward, her gaze fixed on Circe. “So, how exactly do you know Odysseus?” she asked, her tone light but brimming with intrigue.

At this, Circe’s lips curled into a sly grin. She set down her goblet with a deliberate clink and leaned back in her chair, clearly relishing the opportunity to tell her story. “Oh, it’s a delightful tale,” she purred, her voice smooth as silk. She turned her gaze toward Odysseus, who was already bracing himself with a resigned sigh.

“I turned his men into pigs.”

The table went quiet. Helen blinked, momentarily taken aback. Menelaus, however, leaned forward, clearly invested. “You what?” he asked, his tone a mix of shock and fascination.

Circe smirked. “Yes, darling. Into pigs. Fat, squealing pigs. Though, truthfully, they didn’t put up much of a fight almost too easy.” She paused berifly glancing at her nymphs before saying “they were all to happy to come into my home and see my girls serve them food” she said this with a look of disgust, before her gaze then flicking to Odysseus, who pinched the bridge of his nose, muttering something under his breath.

“And then,” Circe continued, clearly enjoying herself, “your clever, oh so brilliant husband decided the best way to handle me was to take what was essentially magic mushrooms graciously provided by Hermes, of course and come storming into my palace, sword in hand, ready to fight me.”

Menelaus’s eyes widened. “And he won?” he asked, clearly captivated by the absurdity of it all.

Circe tilted her head back and let out a rich, musical laugh. “Oh, my darling, no. He didn’t win. Not even close.” She leaned forward, resting her elbows on the table and propping her chin on her hands, her grin widening. “The only reason I didn’t kill him outright or leave him as some sort of decorative statue for my garden was because he had a complete and utter breakdown on my couch.”

Helen’s eyes narrowed in amusement, a smirk tugging at her lips. “A breakdown?” she echoed, glancing at Odysseus, who groaned quietly.

Circe nodded dramatically, her expression one of exaggerated sympathy. “Oh, yes. He was positively inconsolable. Imagine it this mighty warrior, this so called king of Ithaca, sprawled on my sofa, clutching at my throw pillows, sobbing his heart out.” She deepened her voice in mock imitation, her tone dripping with exaggerated woe. “‘I miss my wife! I miss my son! I want to see my beautiful wife again! I miss them so much!’”

Menelaus snorted, clapping a hand over his mouth to muffle his laughter, while Helen outright giggled, earning an exasperated glare from Odysseus.

Circe turned her attention to Penelope now, her expression softening, though the amusement in her eyes lingered. “Your husband being so utterly whipped for you, my dear,” she said with a playful grin, “is the only reason I didn’t kill him.”

Penelope, who had been silently listening with a faint smile, raised an eyebrow. “Well,” she said, her voice calm but laced with humor, “I suppose I should thank you for sparing his life, though I’m not sure if I should be flattered or embarrassed by the story.”

Circe chuckled, waving a hand dismissively. “Oh, flattered, my dear. Absolutely flattered. A man who can’t stop crying about how much he loves you? That’s a treasure, truly.”

Odysseus muttered something under his breath about dramatic witches and overblown stories, but Circe only laughed harder, her laughter ringing out like music. The rest of the table followed suit, the tension from earlier melting into shared amusement as the tale of Odysseus’s ill fated encounter with the sorceress became yet another memory to bond them all.

As the conversation began to shift, the sound of cutlery clinking softly against plates filled the hall once more. The warm candlelight flickered over the faces of the guests, now at ease with the unexpected arrival of Circe and her entourage. The nymphs, seated quietly in their chairs, seemed content to observe the table’s lively chatter at least, most of them did.

One of the youngest nymphs, a girl who appeared no older than six, slid from her seat with a mischievous grin, her bare feet making the softest of taps against the floor as she ducked beneath the table her golden hair trailing behind her as she crawled toward Antinous.

For a moment, there was silence, then a small, voice broke through. “Hi.”

Antinous looked down just as the little nymph climbed up onto his lap, her small hands gripping his tunic as she settled herself comfortably. She grinned up at him, her wide, sparkling eyes filled with curiosity.

“Hi,” Antinous replied, a touch unsure but clearly amused.

The girl giggled and, without hesitation, reached up to tug gently at his ears, tilting her head as though inspecting them. Antinous blinked in surprise but didn’t move, letting out a soft laugh as her tiny fingers poked and prodded.

“Thalina,” Circe’s voice cut through the moment, firm but affectionate. She glanced up from her plate, raising an eyebrow at the little nymph. “Sweetie, don’t bother him. Let the poor man eat in peace.”

Antinous held up a hand before Circe could say more, his expression softening. “It’s fine,” he said with a small smile, his tone reassuring. “I have sisters. Lots of sisters. I’m used to this.”

Thalina beamed at his response, still fiddling with his ears, and Antinous leaned back slightly, allowing her to continue her inspection without complaint.

Circe tilted her head, her lips curving into an approving smile. “Well, you’re more patient than most,” she remarked before turning her attention back to her meal, her golden bracelets glinting as she reached for her goblet.

Penelope, watching the scene unfold, couldn’t help but chuckle softly. She leaned slightly toward Odysseus, murmuring, “It seems Antinous has quite the way with children.”

Odysseus glanced at the prince, raising an eyebrow but saying nothing. Across the table, Telemachus watched the interaction with quiet amusement, a faint smile tugging at his lips as Thalina’s giggles filled the air.

The room, alive with the warmth of laughter and conversation, seemed to glow a little brighter as the youngest nymph delighted in her new source of entertainment, her innocent joy a stark yet welcome contrast to the weightier stories shared moments ago.

Chapter Text

Telemachus leaned over, a soft smile on his face as he gently played with the nymph’s hair while she sat happily perched on Antinous’s lap. Thalina giggled as she tugged at Antinous’s ears and pressed her small hands against his face, her wide eyes filled with mischief. Antinous glanced at her, his expression a mix of amusement and patience, before turning to Telemachus with a small grin. The younger man, brushing one of Thalina’s curls out of her face, returned the smile before focusing back on the little girl.

Meanwhile, Penelope gently bounced another one of the smaller nymphs on her knee, her soothing laughter mingling with the innocent giggles of the children. The atmosphere in the room had grown surprisingly relaxed, despite the dramatic entrance that had disrupted their meal earlier.

Odysseus cleared his throat, his voice cutting gently through the noise. “Circe,” he said, his tone both curious and dry, “which room do you want to sleep in tonight?”

Circe paused mid-bite, lifting her gaze to meet his with a mischievous glint in her eyes. “Wherever this enchantress sleeps,” she declared, pointing a playful finger directly at Penelope.

Odysseus raised an eyebrow, leaning back in his chair with a mock-serious expression before grinning widely. “The dungeons it is!” he retorted, his voice laced with sarcasm.

Circe let out a bright laugh, her golden bracelets jingling as she waved a hand dismissively. “Oh, Odysseus, darling, you always know how to flatter a woman,” she teased. “But truly, I don’t care where I stay. All I ask is that my girls are nearby.” She gestured toward her nymphs, her expression softening slightly.

Penelope, ever gracious, smiled warmly. “Of course,” she replied, her voice gentle and sincere as she continued to play with the small nymph on her lap, who was now giggling and clutching at her braids that Penelope had weaved into her hair. “We’ll make sure you’re all comfortable.”

Circe nodded in thanks, her sharp grin returning as she watched Penelope with a faint air of approval. “You’re too kind, my dear,” she said before taking another bite of her meal.

As she set her utensils down, Circe’s tone shifted slightly, carrying a note of curiosity. “Me and my girls passed a lot of ships heading in this direction on our way here,” she remarked, her eyes narrowing slightly as if calculating their purpose.

Odysseus nodded, resting his forearms on the edge of the table. “A lot of other kings are on their way here,” he said, glancing briefly at Penelope before continuing. “Me and Penelope are guessing their families are coming too. This place might feel more like a court than a home in a few days.”

Circe tilted her head thoughtfully, taking in the information. “A gathering of kings and their kin,” she mused, her fingers tapping lightly against the polished wood of the table. “Sounds like quite the event.”

“More like chaos,” Odysseus muttered, though there was a trace of humor in his voice.

Penelope laughed softly, shifting the nymph on her lap and glancing toward Circe. “It’s always chaos, but we’ll manage,” she said, her voice steady and reassuring.

Circe gave a knowing smile, her eyes gleaming as though she was already anticipating the drama to come. “Oh, I have no doubt,” she said lightly, leaning back in her chair. “After all, if anyone thrives in chaos, it’s you, Odysseus.”

The king merely smirked in response, shaking his head as the nymph on Penelope’s lap burst into giggles once more, breaking the moment with her innocent delight.
Later that night after everyone had gone to sleep and moonlight streamed through the cracks in the shutters
Telemachus stirred at the loud, unexpected knocking on his door. Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, he stumbled to answer it, stifling a yawn. When he opened the door, he was greeted by the sight of Antinous standing there, looking both annoyed and strangely amused.

Telemachus blinked at him groggily. “What are you doing here?” he asked, his voice laced with confusion and exhaustion.

Antinous raised an eyebrow, the corner of his lips twitching into a smirk. “Hello to you as well, little wolf,” he said smoothly, his tone playful.

Telemachus rolled his eyes, leaning against the doorframe. “Seriously, what do you want?” he asked, trying to muster some semblance of patience.

Antinous crossed his arms, tilting his head slightly. “Can I sleep with you?” he asked, his voice casual but with just enough mischief to catch Telemachus off guard.

Telemachus’s eyes widened as a faint blush crept onto his cheeks. “What?!” he sputtered, his voice rising slightly.

Antinous chuckled, clearly enjoying the reaction. “Not like that,” he clarified, holding up his hands in mock surrender. His grin widened as he explained, “You remember the little nymph at dinner who kept tugging at me?”

Telemachus furrowed his brow, his mind still foggy from sleep. “Thalina?” he guessed, his voice slower than usual.

Antinous clicked his tongue and snapped his fingers. “That’s the one,” he said. “Well, she didn’t want to leave me, so I let her sleep in my bed while I took the floor.”

Telemachus blinked, his confusion deepening. “Okay… so what’s the problem? You’ve slept on the floor before.”

Antinous exhaled dramatically, running a hand through his hair. “That’s not the issue,” he said, shaking his head. “The issue is that little girl snores louder than any of the men who used to inhabit this house.”

Telemachus snorted despite himself, hiding his grin behind his hand. “Seriously?” he asked, unable to suppress a laugh.

Antinous raised an eyebrow. “I’m telling you, it’s like a thunderstorm in there,” he deadpanned, though the slight smirk on his face betrayed his amusement.

Telemachus sighed, stepping aside and gesturing toward the room. “Fine, come in,” he said, trying to sound exasperated but unable to fully hide his smile.

Antinous nodded in gratitude, brushing past him and flopping onto the bed without a second thought. Telemachus shook his head as he closed the door, muttering under his breath, “You’re unbelievable.”

Antinous, now sprawled comfortably, merely grinned. “And yet you let me in,” he quipped, folding his arms behind his head.

Telemachus groaned, grabbing his blanket and flopping back onto his own side of the bed, already regretting his decision.
The rooster crowed just as rhetorical sun was beginning to rise letting everyone know that morning had arrived Antinous stirred awake, his body protesting every second of consciousness. Years of sleeping in and now, even the slightest discomfort made his muscles scream in revolt. He groaned internally, mentally cursing his habit of waking up this early a habit Odysseus had managed to drill into him despite having only been back for a month at most.

Stretching slightly, Antinous resolved to get up but as he shifted, something stopped him.

Glancing down, he raised an eyebrow in mild surprise. Telemachus’s arms were wrapped snugly around him, one of the younger man’s legs draped lazily over his hips. Antinous stared for a moment, his lips twitching into an amused grin.

“Damn, little wolf,” he muttered softly, a quiet chuckle escaping his lips. “Why are you such a cuddler?”

Telemachus groaned, his voice muffled by the pillow. Still half-asleep, he mumbled, “I didn’t get much physical affection as a child… deal with it.”

Antinous blinked at the response, momentarily caught off guard. He studied Telemachus’s peaceful, sleep heavy expression, the younger man’s brow relaxed in a way that rarely happened when he was awake and never happens when Antinous is around. With a soft shrug, Antinous smirked to himself and muttered, “Fair enough.”

Adjusting slightly, he let his arm rest around Telemachus’s waist, pulling him closer with a casual ease. Closing his eyes again, Antinous allowed himself to drift back into sleep, the faintest hint of a smile still lingering on his face.

Chapter Text

Telemachus yawned as he got out of bed, stretching after having wiggled out of Antinous grip before heading to the water basin to wash his face. The cool water helped clear away the remnants of sleep, and as he dried off, he glanced back at the bed. Particularly at the large lump on the bed.

“Antinous,” he called, his voice steady but firm. “Wake up.”

The lump under the blanket shifted slightly, then a groggy voice mumbled, “Nooo.”

Telemachus rolled his eyes. “The other kings are coming today. You need to get up.”

Antinous groaned, turning over but keeping his eyes firmly shut. “Don’t care,” he muttered before extending one hand out from under the covers, making grabby motions. “Come back to bed, little wolf.”

Telemachus sighed deeply, pinching the bridge of his nose. “You leave me no choice,” he muttered.

Without hesitation, he grabbed the water basin, still half-full, and upended it over Antinous’s head.

There was a moment of pure, stunned silence.

Then, with a loud sputter, Antinous shot upright, water dripping from his hair and face. “TELEMACHUS!” he roared, his voice echoing through the room.

Telemachus’s eyes widened in horror. Dropping the empty basin with a clatter, he bolted for the door. Behind him, Antinous leapt out of bed, water streaming from his clothes as he gave chase.

They tore through the halls, Telemachus sprinting as fast as his legs would carry him while Antinous followed, shouting threats and curses.

“Get back here, little wolf!” Antinous bellowed, his wet feet slapping against the marble floors.

Telemachus darted past Helen and Menelaus, who both turned to watch the spectacle with twin looks of amusement and confusion.

Moments later, they passed Circe and one of her older nymphs. Circe arched a delicate brow, a smirk tugging at her lips. “What an entertaining start to the day,” she remarked, the nymph beside her giggling.

Finally, Telemachus burst into the grand hall, his breathing ragged as he spotted his parents seated at the far end. Relief flooded his expression as he made a beeline toward them, skidding to a stop near the table.

“Mother, Father” he started, but his words were cut off as Antinous tackled him from behind.

They tumbled to the ground in a heap, and before Telemachus could scramble away, Antinous had him in a firm headlock.

A dripping wet Antinous glared at Telemachus before looking up at Penelope, though there was a flicker of humor in his tone as he asked, “Penelope, can I smack the shit out of your kid without you hunting me down and feeding me to your hounds?”

Penelope, poised as ever, raised a hand to her mouth, unsuccessfully hiding her laughter behind her fingers. Odysseus, meanwhile, leaned back in his chair with a wide grin, clearly enjoying the scene.

Telemachus groaned. “I had to wake you up!” he protested, his voice muffled by Antinous’s arm.

Antinous tightened the hold slightly, though his grin betrayed that he wasn’t actually angry. “Oh, don’t worry,” he said, his voice low and full of mock menace. “I’m wide awake now, thanks to you.”

Penelope let out a soft laugh, shaking her head. “Do what you must, Antinous,” she said lightly. “But be gentle with him. He’s still my son, after all.”

Antinous smirked. “No promises,” he muttered, ruffling Telemachus’s hair roughly effectively wetting Telemachus hair too, before finally letting him go.

Telemachus scrambled to his feet, glaring at him. “You’re the worst,” he muttered, though the faint hint of a smile betrayed his words.

Antinous, dripping and unapologetic, shrugged casually. “And yet, you keep me around.”

Odysseus chuckled, raising his cup. “Ah, mornings like these never a dull moment.” With that Helen, Menelaus, and Circe made their way into the main hall ready for breakfast. As the light continued to shine brighter and brighter over the sprawling palace grounds Odysseus, Penelope, Telemachus, Antinous, Helen, Menelaus, and Circe made their way to the docks. The air was crisp, filled with the faint scent of salt and the distant cry of sea birds as the group approached the bustling port, where an impressive fleet of ships was already arriving.

The first ship docked smoothly, and the first king to disembark was Nestor. The elderly ruler of Pylos was a distinguished man, with a long silver beard and sharp, intelligent eyes. He walked with a regal staff, the weight of countless years and battles etched into his every movement. Beside him was his wife, Eurydice, a graceful woman with a kind face and silver-streaked hair, her presence as steady and dignified as her husband’s.

Following Nestor was Diomedes, king of Argos and certainly one of the younger ones in the group.Broad shouldered and sharp eyed, he exuded the aura of a seasoned warrior, his steps confident and purposeful. His wife, Aegialeia, walked at his side, her golden hair shining in the sunlight, her delicate features belying a sharp and stern woman and a nearly invisible baby bump .

Next came Idomeneus, the ruler of Crete, whose weathered face bore the marks of many years spent at sea. His piercing blue eyes scanned the crowd with the precision of a seasoned commander. His wife, Meda, an elegant woman with strikingly dark hair that contrasted beautifully with her pale complexion, a serene smile playing on her lips.
The ship after theirs carried Cecrops, the king of Athens. Cecrops was a tall, stately figure with olive-toned skin and hair streaked with gray, his robes trimmed with symbols of Athena’s wisdom. His wife, Agraulus, had the air of a queen entirely comfortable in her role, her striking green eyes sharp and observant.

Aeetes, the king of Colchis, was next, his dark hair streaked with silver and his expression stern, as if always deep in thought. He carried with him an air of mystery, which was only heightened by the fact that his wife, Idyia, was absent a detail that did not go unnoticed.

Then came Telemon, the king of Salamis, whose towering frame and muscular build were impossible to ignore. His ruddy complexion and boisterous laugh gave him the air of a man who thrived in battle. His wife, Glauce, was a petite woman with auburn curls and a sweet, shy demeanor, a stark contrast to her imposing husband.

Peleus, father of the famed Achilles, disembarked next. His hair was snow white, his face lined with age and wisdom, though his piercing gaze had lost none of its fire. His wife, Thetis, a sea nymph of ethereal beauty, was absent, though Peleus carried himself with the confidence of a man still guided by her influence.

The ship that followed carried Amphitryon, His dark hair was streaked with gray, and he bore himself with an air of quiet strength. His wife though was noticeably absent.
Then came Alcinous, king of the Phaeacians, stepped onto the dock. With his kind, round face and jovial demeanor, he was quick to put others at ease. Beside him was his wife, Arete, who carried herself with quiet authority, her keen intellect evident in her every glance
Telemachus attempted to keep track of the kings and their entourages, but after Arete his, attention wavered names blurred together, and he gave up entirely in fact he only remembered her name because it reminded him of Antinous’s sisters name, and when yet another king and his family stepped onto the dock. He sighed inwardly, glancing at the growing crowd as the number of rulers, their wives, and their entourages swelled to overwhelming proportions.

Meanwhile, Antinous stood a little apart, leaning lazily against one of the wooden posts near the dock. His sharp eyes scanned the arrivals, noting with mild curiosity that while many kings had brought their daughters some bringing both sons and daughters none had brought just their sons. He furrowed his brow briefly, finding the trend odd but not remarkable enough to dwell on. With a shrug, he let the thought pass.

Instead, his attention drifted back to Telemachus. Watching the younger man try and fail to maintain his composure amidst the overwhelming crowd was far more entertaining than analyzing court politics. Antinous smirked as Telemachus muttered something under his breath, clearly exasperated by the endless stream of arrivals.

Leaning closer to Telemachus, Antinous murmured with a teasing grin, “Losing track already, little wolf?”

Telemachus shot him a glare but said nothing, turning back to face the next set of arrivals. Antinous chuckled softly, leaning back again and settling in for what promised to be an eventfuland undoubtedly chaotic couple of weeks.

Chapter Text

The hall had been alive with conversation and laughter, the sounds of the visiting kings, their wives, and their families filling the air. Yet, for all the noise and commotion, Antinous’s focus had wandered to the seat beside him the one that had remained conspicuously empty all evening.

Telemachus was nowhere to be seen.

He tried to ignore it, telling himself the boy had likely been pulled into some tedious task or another by his parents. But as the evening wore on, a faint itch of unease began to creep up his spine. Telemachus wasn’t the type to shirk his responsibilities or leave him alone to endure the company of the nobles. By the time the last of the servants began clearing the platters, Antinous’s patience had worn thin. Excusing himself with a tight smile and a polite nod, he left the grand hall, his strides purposeful as he headed toward Telemachus’s quarters.

The door to the younger man’s room stood slightly ajar, the faint glow of moonlight spilling through the crack. Antinous pushed it open, his sharp eyes scanning the space. The bed was untouched, the room devoid of its usual warmth. He stepped inside, searching for any sign of his little wolf, but found none.

A memory tugged at him, pulling him toward the weapons room. Telemachus had always sought refuge there as a teenager, back when the suitors had swarmed the halls like vultures. It had been a place where he could escape, sharpening his blades and his resolve in equal measure. But when Antinous pushed open the heavy door to the weapons room, he was met with only silence. The polished swords and spears gleamed in the dim light, perfectly still, their presence a stark contrast to the absence of the man he sought.

Antinous muttered a curse under his breath, his frustration mounting. “Where are you hiding, little wolf?” he growled, his voice echoing off the walls.

The garden was his next destination. He’d seen Telemachus slip away there on occasion, finding solace among the flowers and the night breeze. But as he strode through the winding paths, the soft rustle of leaves his only companion, he found no sign of him there either.

Throwing his head back in exasperation, Antinous let out a low growl, his patience finally fraying. The stars above twinkled mockingly, as though laughing at his fruitless search. But as his gaze swept across the sky, he caught sight of a silhouette perched on the rooftop.

He didn’t need to see the face to know who it was. The tousled mop of hair caught the moonlight just enough to make Antinous’s lips twitch in recognition. That little wolf.

“Of course,” he muttered to himself, shaking his head. “He always has to make things difficult.”

Antinous made his way toward the rooftop, climbing with the ease of someone who had done it countless times before. When he finally pulled himself onto the tiles, he found Telemachus sitting with his legs drawn up, his arms resting on his knees. He was staring out over the horizon, the soft glow of the moonlight casting a silver sheen over his features.

“Are you planning to stay up here all night? Do I need to have Eurycleia bring a bed roll up here?” Antinous asked, his voice low but carrying the faintest hint of amusement.

Telemachus glanced over his shoulder, unsurprised. “I needed some air,” he said simply, turning his gaze back to the horizon. “It’s quieter up here.”

Antinous moved to sit beside him, the tiles cool beneath him as he settled in. “You’re supposed to be at dinner,” he said, though his tone lacked any real reprimand.

Telemachus shrugged. “You seemed to be handling things just fine without me.”

Antinous scoffed. “Hardly. I was bored out of my mind. Do you have any idea how insufferable some of those kings are?”

Telemachus chuckled softly, a small smile tugging at his lips. “I can imagine.”

They sat in silence for a moment, the night stretching out around them. Finally, Antinous spoke, his voice softer now. “Why are you really up here, little wolf?”

Telemachus hesitated, his fingers idly tracing patterns on his knee. “Sometime” he paused “it’s easier to watch from a distance,” he admitted. “To think without all the noise.”

Antinous regarded him for a long moment, his sharp features softening. “You think too much,” he said finally, his voice gentle. “You’re going to drive yourself mad one day.”

Telemachus glanced at him, his green eyes glinting in the moonlight. “Maybe. But someone has to think about these things.”

Antinous let out a low hum, leaning back on his hands. “Then let me do the thinking for a while,” he said, his tone teasing but carrying an edge of sincerity. “You’ve earned a break, haven’t you?”

Telemachus smiled faintly, the tension in his shoulders easing just a fraction. “Maybe.”

Telemachus leaned against Antinous, the warmth of the older man grounding him as the cool night air brushed past them. Antinous, ever steady, wrapped his arm around Telemachus’s shoulder, pulling him closer in a gesture that was both protective and reassuring.

“Tell me what’s going through that mind of yours, little wolf,” Antinous murmured, his voice low and inviting.

Telemachus sighed deeply, his head resting against Antinous’s shoulder. “I’ve been listening to my father, Menelaus, Nestor, and Diomedes,” he began, his tone soft and thoughtful.
Antinous scoffed lightly, a smirk tugging at his lips.
That earned a quiet chuckle from Telemachus, the tension in his posture easing. “Well, them and Idomeneus were all talking about their experiences in the war and the ones who fell, like Achilles. My father was saying that even though Achilles was a snide little brat, he was apparently terrifying. For some reason, they kept talking about how he just kept dragging Hector’s body around.”

Antinous chuckled, his fingers absently tracing light patterns against Telemachus’s exposed arm. “Sounds like what I was told about Achilles,” he said with dry amusement. “But what did Diomedes have to say?”

Telemachus shifted slightly, a small smile tugging at his lips. “Diomedes chimed in and said Achilles was golden when it came to loyalty and friendship.”

Antinous let out a low laugh, his thumb brushing against Telemachus’s arm. “Golden? That doesn’t sound like the Diomedes I’ve heard of. Though I guess even the great heroes had their moments of sentimentality.”

Telemachus grinned. “Menelaus wasn’t having it, though. He said, ‘You’re just saying that because you and Achilles are both archers obsessed with their hair.’”

At that, Antinous laughed, the sound low and warm a sincere laugh that made Telemachus feel warm even on this chilly night. “Oh, gods. That’s priceless. Menelaus really said that?”

Telemachus grinned. “He did. And then Nestor laughed at both of them and said, ‘Menelaus, stop hating on the kid just because of your and your brother’s disagreement.’ After that, they stopped fighting.”

He hesitated, his voice softening. “Then they went on to talk about things that sounded like they were straight out of a legend or a myth.”

Antinous tilted his head, a curious glint in his eyes. “Is that so?” he murmured, his voice dropping lower.

Telemachus met his gaze, nodding slowly. “Yeah. They talked about glory, about their victories, about the people they lost. It all sounded so… grand.
Antinous’s chuckle rumbled softly in his chest. “Little wolf,” he said, his voice tinged with amusement, “you talk directly to the gods. Is anything truly a legend or a myth?”

Telemachus smiled faintly, shaking his head. “I guess not.”

Antinous studied him for a moment, then leaned in slightly. “So why has that conversation been on your mind?”

Telemachus’s expression grew more serious as he turned his gaze back to the horizon. “I’m surrounded by the people that those legends will one day be about,” he admitted quietly. “And it made me realize… clearly, I don’t see myself in that list of heroes. I don’t think I’ll ever make it onto that list. Not here.”

Antinous shifted, sitting up slightly as his eyes locked onto Telemachus’s. “Where do you want to go?” he asked, his voice calm but laced with curiosity.

“I don’t know,” Telemachus admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. The vulnerability in his tone hung in the air between them.

Antinous was quiet for a moment before cupping Telemachus’s face in his hand, looking into his eyes as if searching for the truth in his soul. A slow, confident smirk spread across his face. Lowering his hand from its spot on Telemachus face. Still keeping eye contact.
“How about this,” he said, his voice low and challenging. “How much do you want to risk, little wolf?” Telemachus just went silent in quiet contemplation.
Telemachus tilted his head, studying Antinous’s face in the dim light of the moon. The question spilled from his lips before he could stop himself. “What about you, Antinous?”

Antinous turned to him, one brow arched, his trademark cocky grin creeping onto his face. “What about me?”

“What are you looking for?” Telemachus asked, his voice quiet but steady, curiosity flickering in his green eyes.

Antinous leaned his head back, staring up at the glittering expanse of stars above them. He let out a slow breath, his grin softening into something more introspective. “I just want someone I can turn to when I’m feeling down, you know?” he said, his voice uncharacteristically tender. “Someone I can kiss and who makes me feel warm when the nights are cold.”

Telemachus hummed, the corners of his mouth twitching upward as he tried to hold back a smile.

Antinous tilted his head to look at him, his brow furrowing slightly. “What?”

Telemachus finally let his grin spread fully across his face, a teasing glint in his eyes. “It just sounds so plain. I expected someone like you to want only the flashiest of things… and people.”

Antinous laughed, a low, rich sound that filled the quiet night. He shook his head, his dark eyes sparkling with amusement. “While I do enjoy my flashy trinkets,” he began, the grin returning to his lips and growing wider as he glanced back at Telemachus, “I’m not looking for somebody with some superhuman gifts.”

He leaned in slightly, his grin turning playful, almost wolfish, as if he’d just caught onto some private joke. “Though,” he added, his tone light but tinged with mischief, “it wouldn’t hurt if they were a little clever. Maybe even had a sharp tongue to keep me on my toes.”

Telemachus chuckled softly, shaking his head. “Well, good luck finding that.”

Antinous’s grin deepened, his gaze lingering on Telemachus for a heartbeat longer than necessary. “Oh, I think I’ll manage,” he said, his voice dropping just slightly, as if the words carried more weight than they let on.

The air between them grew quieter, more charged, as they both turned their eyes back to the stars, the unspoken tension hanging between them like a thread waiting to be snapped and it was broken by a loud deep voice yelling “Telemachus!!” “Little Lion!!”

Chapter Text

Both of them looked down to see Odysseus standing in the garden below, waving wildly up at them, a crooked grin plastered across his face.

Telemachus and Antinous exchanged a glance, their expressions mirrored in amused disbelief.

Antinous smirked, shrugging. “What do you think he wants now?”

Telemachus grinned, the mischievous spark in his eyes unmistakable. “Let’s find out.”

Before Antinous could react, Telemachus stood up and, to his alarm, leaped off the roof.

“Telemachus!” Antinous shouted, scrambling to his feet and running to the ledge.

He leaned over, his heart pounding, only to see Telemachus clinging to the branch of a tree a few feet below. The younger man gave him a lopsided, impish grin, waving at him with one hand before effortlessly dropping to the ground and landing lightly next to Odysseus.

Antinous exhaled sharply, muttering under his breath about reckless fools, and how they are going to shorten his life span due to a heart attack. as he shook his head. Telemachus, still grinning like a boy who’d just gotten away with something, threw his father a cheerful smile.

Antinous carefully climbed down, his movements slower and more deliberate. When he reached the ground, Odysseus wasted no time slinging an arm around Antinous’s shoulders, his grin as broad and mischievous as his son’s.

“So,” Odysseus began, waggling his eyebrows at Antinous, “did you two boys have a nice little chat up there?”

Antinous rolled his eyes, his tone dry as he replied, “It was fine.”

Telemachus, still grinning, stepped in beside his father and nodded. “We did.”

Odysseus looked between them, clearly amused, but didn’t press further. Instead, he gave Antinous a hearty pat on the back and turned toward the house. “Good, good. Now, come on.
Antinous exchanged a look with Telemachus, his brow raised in curiosity. Telemachus just shrugged, his smile still lingering as they followed Odysseus into the night.

As they walked, Telemachus glanced at his father, curiosity evident in his expression. “So, why exactly did you need us?”

Odysseus grinned, his eyes gleaming with excitement. “We all need to be present so we can break into teams for tomorrow’s game!” He grinned at them both clearly pleased with himself.

Antinous snorted. “Only you would treat a child’s game as if it’s war in need of a strategy meeting the night before.”

Odysseus shot him a knowing smirk. “You say that now, but just wait until you’re in the thick of it.”

They were nearing the entrance of the grand hall when a sudden, high pitched scream cut through the night air.

All three of them froze.
Then they ran.
The moment they reached the grand hall, the sight that met them was one none of them could have anticipated.

Helen of Sparta to many but at this moment it was just Helen and Helen was atop King Creon, fists flying as she threw punch after punch at him. Her voice, raw with fury and pain, rang out over the stunned silence of the gathered nobles.

“Do you have any idea what it was like being away from my home? To constantly be touched by a man who wasn’t my husband? It’s been ten damn years and I still feel filthy! Do you know what that’s like?! No!” She struck him again, her golden hair wild around her tear streaked face. “And that’s why your fucking wife left you! Because you’re an asshole!!”

Creon, caught completely off guard, barely had time to shield himself from her relentless assault.

As the others stood frozen in shock, Odysseus turned to Penelope, his voice low but urgent. “What happened?”

Penelope, who had been watching with an unreadable expression, finally turned to him. Her voice was soft, but there was something heavy beneath it. “He asked me how I can stand to be around the whore” she spat the word bitterly, as if saying it herself disgusted her “even though she’s the reason you and I were separated for so long.” And then she got up from her spot and jumped on him.

Her gaze dropped, her hands tightening into small fists at her sides. Odysseus felt something twist inside him at the sadness in her posture.

By the time he turned his attention back to Helen, the fight had ended.

She was no longer throwing punches. Instead, she was sobbing, her body trembling from the force of it.

Menelaus had already moved toward her. Without hesitation, he gathered her into his arms, holding her close as she buried her face in his shoulder. His own expression was unreadable, his grip firm but gentle.

Penelope stepped forward then, her own gaze softening as she placed a gentle hand on Helen’s arm.

“Sunshine,” she murmured, her voice steady despite the emotion behind it. “I don’t blame you at all.”

Helen didn’t move, but the sobs quieted just slightly.

“You were a pawn in the gods’ games,” Penelope continued, her thumb brushing lightly against Helen’s skin in a soothing gesture. “And that was never your fault.” And with that she placed a kiss on Helen’s head.

The hall was silent.

For once, no one had anything to say.
Penelope then gently pried Helen from Menelaus’s arms, cradling her as if she weighed nothing. Helen, still shaking, clung to her as Penelope whispered soft, comforting words meant only for her ears. Without hesitation, she carried her away from the hall, away from the lingering stares and whispers, her touch firm yet kind.

Menelaus remained frozen, watching as his wife disappeared with Penelope. His hands clenched at his sides, but his face remained unreadable.

Odysseus stepped up behind him, placing a steady hand on his shoulder. “Let’s let the girls have their time,” he said, his voice quieter than usual. Without waiting for an answer, he gently steered Menelaus back toward the table, Telemachus following closely behind.

Chapter Text

Meanwhile, Antinous barely had time to process what had just happened before he caught sight of her.
Patroiclea
One of Creon’s daughters.

And judging by the way she was approaching him, swathed in gold and draped in precious gems like a walking treasure hoard, she was going to be a problem.

Inwardly, Antinous rolled his eyes. He knew her type entitled, spoiled, and convinced the world bent at her will. But outwardly, he kept his face neutral, preparing himself for what was bound to be an incredibly annoying conversation.

When she finally reached him, she pursed her lips and tilted her head, inspecting him like he was something to be appraised. Then, in a voice so grating it made him want to walk into the sea, she asked, “What were you doing with the prince?”

Antinous barely resisted the urge to laugh. Instead, he flashed her a wicked grin, made a couple deliberate thrusting motions into the air, and without another word, turned on his heel and walked away.

He didn’t need to see her face to know she was probably seething.

All that mattered was finding out where Telemachus had gone.
Antinous strolled through the halls, his sharp eyes scanning the crowd as he searched for Telemachus for the second time that night. For someone so weighed down by duty and expectations, the prince sure had a habit of slipping away.

After a few minutes of searching, he sighed and decided to change tactics. Instead of chasing the little wolf down all night, he’d just wait for him in his room.

With that plan in mind, Antinous made his way to Telemachus’s quarters, pushing the door open and making himself comfortable on the prince’s bed. He leaned back against the pillows, arms crossed behind his head, looking perfectly at ease as he settled in to wait.

When Telemachus finally walked in, his brows shot up in surprise before his expression quickly morphed into confusion. “What the fuck are you doing here, Antinous?”

Antinous grinned lazily. “Hey, roommate.”

Telemachus narrowed his eyes. “We are not roommates.”

Antinous ignored that, sitting up slightly. “So, as you know, there are about fifty kings and queens here. Plus their kids.”

Telemachus gave him a flat look. “I was there, yes.”

Antinous smirked. “Well, those princesses need their own rooms, and their parents need their own rooms…”

Telemachus crossed his arms. “So why don’t you just go back to your OWN room?”

Antinous wagged a finger at him, shaking his head. “Ah, you mean Thalia’s room?”

Telemachus blinked. He stared at Antinous for a moment, his brain clearly processing what that meant. Then, with a long, suffering sigh, he just gave up.

“Move over,” he muttered.

Antinous grinned victoriously and scooted over, making just enough space for Telemachus to flop down beside him.

This was shaping up to be a pretty good night.

Chapter Text

The world was burning.
Flames clawed at the stone walls, thick smoke curling through the corridors like a living thing, suffocating and relentless. The heat pressed in from all sides, scorching, consuming. Somewhere in the distance, voices screamed shouts of panic, of agony but they barely registered.
Antinous ran.
His chest burned, his legs ached, but he didn’t stop. He couldn’t.

Telemachus.

His name pounded in Antinous’s head, over and over, a desperate mantra.

He reached the door to Telemachus’s chambers and shoved it open, the wood hot against his palms.

The room was filled with smoke. The air was thick with it, choking, blinding. But even through the haze, Antinous saw him.

Telemachus.

Collapsed on the stone floor.

Still.

Too still.

Antinous’s stomach dropped. He staggered forward, heart slamming against his ribs as he dropped to his knees beside the younger man. His hands grasped Telemachus’s shoulders, blood leaching onto his hands and clothes as he knelt there shaking him, desperate
“Wake up,” he rasped, his voice breaking.
Nothing.

The skin beneath his fingers was cold.

A sharp, strangled noise tore from Antinous’s throat, his breath hitching, his mind screaming no, no, NO behind him a voice said “Antinous son of Eupeithes it is your fault the boy before you is dead! The boy with so much potential gone from this earth and all that’s left is the human trash that is you”
Then

Darkness.

His body jolted awake with a sharp inhale, his lungs sucking in cool, clean air.

For a split second, his mind was still trapped in the dream, still burning, still kneeling in that ruined room with Telemachus’s lifeless body in his arms

But then he felt warmth.

A weight curled against his chest. Soft breaths against his skin. A steady heartbeat.

Antinous swallowed hard, his vision adjusting to the dim light.

Telemachus was there. Safe. Asleep. His face nestled against Antinous’s chest, his body tucked into his like he belonged there.

A shaky breath escaped Antinous, relief flooding through him so suddenly it almost hurt.

Gently, as if afraid Telemachus might disappear if he let go, he tightened his arms around him. Just slightly. Just enough.

Then, unable to help himself, he pressed a soft kiss to Telemachus’s hair, letting his lips linger for a moment, grounding himself in the warmth, the realness of him.

The nightmare still clung to the edges of his mind. But he could deal with that at a later time right now he needed to focus on the truth that he was holding in his arms and that was that Telemachus was here. Alive.
And that was all that mattered.

Antinous, finally soothed by the steady rise and fall of Telemachus’s breath, let sleep take him once more. This time, there were no flames, no suffocating smoke just warmth, the steady presence beside him anchoring him to reality.

When he woke again, it wasn’t because of some lingering nightmare or the pull of anxiety. No, it was because something or other, someone was on top of him.

Blinking against the soft morning light, he found himself staring up into a pair of bright, mischievous eyes. Telemachus was perched on his chest, looking down at him with an expression far too smug for so early in the morning.

Antinous grinned lazily. “Well, this is a pleasant way to wake up.”

Telemachus’s smile instantly vanished, replaced by a blushing scowl. Before Antinous could react, Telemachus smacked him hard on the chest before crawling off of him.

Antinous grunted, rubbing at the sore spot. “Damn, remind me never to compliment you again.”

Telemachus, now standing beside the bed, was too busy grinning to take the insult seriously. Antinous groaned and turned his head toward the window, where the sun was barely peeking over the horizon. He groaned again, louder this time.

“Why are you up so early, little wolf?” he mumbled, his voice still heavy with sleep.

Telemachus only grinned wider. “It’s game day!”

Antinous blinked at him.

“My dad hasn’t told us what game we’re playing,” Telemachus went on, practically vibrating with excitement, “so the sooner we eat breakfast, the sooner we find out!”

Antinous watched as Telemachus practically bounced on his feet, the sheer energy radiating off of him making Antinous feel exhausted just looking at him.

Still, despite himself, he grinned. There was something undeniably infectious about Telemachus’s enthusiasm something warm, something bright.

And, if he were being honest, something he didn’t mind waking up to.

Chapter Text

The sun had risen higher by the time Telemachus and Antinous made their way out to the gardens, the scent of blooming flowers mingling with the crisp morning air. Antinous, still lazily munching on an apple, strolled beside Telemachus, his usual air of nonchalance in direct contrast to Telemachus’s barely contained excitement.
As they approached, they spotted Odysseus deep in conversation with Menelaus. The moment Odysseus caught sight of them, his face lit up, and he waved them over.

“Ah, there you two are!” he greeted as they reached him, clapping a firm hand on Telemachus’s shoulder before giving Antinous a knowing smirk. “Sleep well, boys?”

Antinous just rolled his eyes, unfazed, while Telemachus, still not quite used to his father’s antics, blushed before nodding .

Before Odysseus could start teasing any further, the rest of the participants began to gather, and with a grand gesture, he turned to address the group.

“Alright, everyone, listen up! Today’s game will be a test of strategy, teamwork, and good old fashioned trickery.” His grin widened as he spread his arms. “We’re playing War Between Poleis.”
A murmur of intrigue spread through the gathered nobles.
“Each team will represent a city state,” Odysseus continued, pacing as he spoke. “The objective? Infiltrate enemy lines, seize their flag, and return safely. The team that still has their flag by the end and has captured the most others wins the game.”

A princess near the front hesitantly raised her hand.

“Yes, Areti?” Odysseus prompted.

“What will we be using for flags?”

Odysseus’s grin turned mischievous. “I’m so glad you asked.”

With a snap of his fingers, a group of servants stepped forward, their arms laden with fabric. As they unfurled the banners, Telemachus’s jaw dropped.

Each flag was unique, to put it kindly. Some bore lopsided emblems, others had wobbly shapes, and one particularly tragic piece of fabric displayed what two stick figures that held a very vague resemblance to Odysseus and Penelope holding hands.

“These,” Odysseus declared grandly, “were all designed and decorated by my baby boy!” He beamed, throwing an arm around an increasingly mortified Telemachus.

Antinous snorted, barely containing his laughter as Telemachus looked anywhere but at the crowd.

“Each team will receive one of these masterpieces,” Odysseus continued, lifting the stick-figure flag proudly.

Another princess, Calliopene, raised her hand. “How will we decide teams?”

Odysseus’s grin widened as he slung an arm around Menelaus. “Simple! You pair up with your best friend.”

Menelaus gave him a look. “I’m your best friend?”

“Well, no,” Odysseus admitted. “But my best friend is spending the day with your wife.”

Menelaus blinked, then sighed. “Oh…yep, that tracks.”

Around them, the princesses eagerly began pairing up with one another. Antinous, watching the crowd, suddenly noticed Patroiclea striding towards him and Telemachus with an all too familiar glint in her eye.

Before she could even open her mouth, Antinous casually threw an arm around Telemachus’s shoulders, leaning in with a smirk. “Want to be partners, little wolf?”

Telemachus grinned up at him. “Sure, asshole.”

Antinous shot a smug look at Patroiclea as she halted in her tracks, her expression souring. He just grinned wider, giving Telemachus a playful nudge as they turned back to Odysseus, ready for whatever chaos was about to unfold.
Before Telemachus could react and hit Antinous back, a small tug on Antinous’s tunic made him glance down.

Thalina, the tiny nymph who had seemingly decided Antinous was her personal human, peered up at him with big, expectant eyes.

“Mr. Lion, sir,” she said earnestly, clasping her little hands together, “can I be on your guys’ team too?”

Telemachus opened his mouth, probably to try and explain how the teams were supposed to work, but before he could get a word out, Antinous had already bent down, scooped Thalina up with ease, and settled her on his hip like she belonged there.

“Of course you can,” he said smoothly, giving her a wink. “You’ll be our princess, and we’ll be the brave warriors protecting you.”

At the word princess, Thalina’s face lit up. She squealed with delight, clapping her hands as delighted giggles bubbled out of her.

Telemachus just shook his head with a fond sigh, watching the way Antinous grinned at her like this was the most natural thing in the world.

“Well,” Telemachus said, crossing his arms, “looks like we’re playing with a handicap.”

Antinous smirked at him. “More like an advantage. Who’d dare attack our team when we have her?” He bounced Thalina slightly, making her giggle even more.

Telemachus sighed again, but there was no real exasperation in it. “Alright, Mr lion, let’s hope your ‘princess’ brings us some luck.”

Thalina beamed. “I’ll bring all the luck!”

Antinous just chuckled, shifting her comfortably in his arms. He had no idea how this game was going to go, but with a grinning Telemachus at his side and a giggling nymph on his hip, he had a feeling it was going to be very interesting.

Chapter Text

With Thalina still perched comfortably in Antinous’s arms, the three of them made their way through the halls, heading straight for Telemachus’s room.
Antinous carried the little nymph with ease, barely even seeming to notice her weight, while she happily swung her legs and played with the ends of his hair. Telemachus walked beside them, already thinking ahead to their strategy or at least, trying to. It was hard to focus when Thalina kept giggling every time Antinous made a comment under his breath.

When they finally reached Telemachus’s room, Antinous set Thalina down on the bed, and she bounced slightly, dissolving into laughter.

Telemachus smiled at the sight, but then, an idea struck him. A perfect, ridiculous idea.

“Be right back,” he said, already turning on his heel and dashing out the door.

Antinous blinked after him. “Should I be concerned?”

But Telemachus was already across the hall, stopping just outside his mother’s room. Well his mother and father’s room, he corrected with an amused shake of his head. He knocked lightly, then peeked inside.

Penelope and Helen were sitting together on the bed, deep in conversation, but they both looked up when he entered.
Penelope gave him a knowing smile. “What do you need, baby?”

Telemachus grinned. “Can I borrow your diadem?”
Penelope chuckled, glancing at the delicate crown sitting atop a bust of her own likeness. The thin gold band gleamed in the light, adorned with green, gray green, and brown gemstones one in every color of the royal family’s eyes perfectly suited for a queen who had waited, endured, and ruled in her husband’s absence.

She gestured toward it. “Take it.”

Telemachus wasted no time, grabbing the crown carefully. “Thanks, Mom!” he called over his shoulder as he hurried back to his room.

When he stepped inside, he found Antinous lounging lazily against the wall, arms crossed, while Thalina busied herself arranging pillows into what appeared to be a tiny throne he made sure to keep the crown hidden behind his back, a sly grin already creeping onto his face.
Antinous who is always watching his little wolf clocked the expression immediately and narrowed his eyes in suspicion. “Alright,” he said, sitting up slightly. “What are you up to?”

Instead of answering, Telemachus walked over to where Thalina was still sitting, her legs swinging over the edge of her makeshift throne. He knelt in front of her and grinned.

“Close your eyes,” he instructed.

Thalina immediately obeyed, squeezing her eyes shut tight.

Gently, Telemachus placed the crown atop her head, adjusting it slightly to sit properly.

“Okay,” he said. “Now you really look like a princess.”

Thalina opened her eyes, reaching up to feel the crown. The moment she realized what it was, her face lit up with pure joy. She clapped her hands, kicking her feet excitedly. “I am a princess!” she squealed.

Telemachus laughed, ruffling her hair lightly before turning to Antinous with a knowing smirk.

“So, General,” he said, arms crossed, “what’s our plan of action to win this thing?”

Antinous leaned back slightly, mirroring Telemachus’s smirk.

“Oh, you’re just dying to follow my orders now, huh?” he teased.

Telemachus rolled his eyes. “Don’t make me regret this.”

Antinous chuckled, stretching lazily before grinning.

“Alright, soldier, let’s talk strategy.” Stepping onto the balcony, Antinous and Telemachus took in the sight of the game unfolding below. The grand courtyard was now a battlefield, flags staked into the ground like banners of war. Groups of players darted between hedges and columns, strategizing, hiding, waiting for the perfect moment to strike.

But Antinous’s attention quickly shifted to a small group of princesses congregating near a fountain, chatting animatedly about who knows what, completely oblivious to the flags they were supposed to be guarding.

He nudged Telemachus with his elbow. “We should probably grab their flags and”

Before he could even finish his sentence, Telemachus had already leaped over the railing.

Antinous barely had time to register what was happening before Telemachus landed silently on the grass below, snatched up three flags in quick succession, and scaled his way back up the balcony with practiced ease.

He landed lightly beside Antinous, grinning as he held up the stolen flags in triumph.

Antinous just stared at him, suspicion clear on his face. “…Do I need to be worried about you climbing into my room at night?”

Telemachus’s grin widened as he tilted his head slightly. “Well, now that we share the same room, I should be the one worried about you crawling into my bed.”

Antinous let out a short laugh, shaking his head. “Fair point, little wolf.”

Telemachus tossed one of the flags at him, still smirking. “Now, are we gonna win this thing or what?”

Antinous caught the flag with ease, his grin sharp. “Oh, we’re definitely winning this thing.” Looking down at the flag and seeing it was a crude drawing of an owl he smiled back up at Telemachus and said “is this supposed to be Athena?” He asked with a raised brow. Telemachus just grinned and nodded

Antinous twirled the flag between his fingers, leaning against the balcony railing as he surveyed the battlefield below. His sharp eyes scanned the scattered teams, picking out their best targets. After a moment, his gaze landed on a familiar figure across the courtyard, standing smugly with his teammate near a line of hedges.

Creon.

Antinous’s grip on the flag tightened slightly. “I’d sure like to take Creon’s flag,” he said casually, though there was a distinct edge to his voice. “And if he happens to fall and get black eyes in the process? Well, that’s just a bonus.”

Telemachus, who had been watching him with barely concealed amusement, leaned into his side, resting some of his weight against him. “You really don’t like him hmm? Telemachus mused out light his voice laced with curiosity, but there was a teasing glint in his eyes. “That’s kind of funny, considering I should be the one hating him. He was rude to my cousin, after all.”

Antinous scoffed. “Well, I don’t like anyone who talks that way about a woman.” His tone was sharp, but then he hesitated, glancing away for just a moment before muttering under his breath, “Especially about someone important to you.”

Telemachus heard him anyway.

For a second, he just looked at Antinous, his expression unreadable. Then, a slow, knowing smile spread across his lips. “Oh?” he said, tilting his head slightly. “Someone important to me, huh?”

Antinous immediately avoided his gaze, suddenly very interested in the flag in his hands. “Forget it,” he muttered, but the tips of his ears had gone a little pink.

Telemachus grinned, shifting even closer, clearly enjoying himself. “Aw, are you defending my honor, General?”

Antinous shot him a warning glare, but Telemachus only laughed. “Relax,” he said, bumping their shoulders together. “I think it’s sweet.”

Antinous rolled his eyes. “I don’t care what you think it is,” he grumbled, crossing his arms. “Just focus on the game.”

Telemachus hummed thoughtfully, still watching him with that smug little smile. “Mhm. Whatever you say, General.”

Antinous huffed, but he couldn’t quite fight off the grin tugging at his lips. “You are so insufferable.”

Telemachus smirked. “And yet, here you are.”

Antinous just sighed dramatically before shaking his head. “Come on, little wolf. Let’s go win this thing.”
With that, he grabbed Telemachus’s wrist and pulled him toward the door, leaving behind the balcony and the stolen flags as they headed into the battle of hunting more flags.

Meanwhile

As soon as Telemachus left the room, the door clicking shut behind him, the curtains near the window shifted. A moment later, Odysseus and Menelaus stepped out from where they had been hiding, smirking like children caught in the middle of a prank.

Menelaus stretched his arms lazily, glancing toward the door. “I wonder what he needed that for?” he mused.
Odysseus shrugged, but there was a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Maybe he’s making Antinous his queen the boy would look lovely in a silk gown.”

Helen let out a quiet laugh, while Penelope simply shook her head in fond amusement. Menelaus snorted, clearly entertained by the thought.

Odysseus, however, was already moving toward the corner of the room, where his prized bow rested against the wall. He grabbed it along with a single arrow, holding it up and inspecting the tip. A few dark smears clung to the metal, remnants of his cleaning of the house.
Menelaus raised an eyebrow. “Still bloody?”

Odysseus just grinned. “Adds character.”

Without another word, he pulled out a length of rope, tying it securely to the end of the arrow. Then, with practiced ease, he strode out onto the balcony, nocked the arrow, and drew back the string. His muscles tensed as he took careful aim.
Then he released.
The arrow sliced through the air, disappearing into the courtyard below. A few seconds later, Odysseus gave the rope a sharp tug and reeled it back in.

When the arrow finally returned to him, a flag was skewered on its tip.

The others in the room stared, suitably impressed.

Penelope sighed, crossing her arms. “It’s a shame his flags are getting holes in them.”

Odysseus simply smirked, pulling the flag free. “Don’t worry,” he said smoothly. “I’ll aim for the holes that are already there.”

Penelope just smiled, shaking her head.

Menelaus turned to Odysseus, watching as he prepped another arrow. “So,” he said, “do you think we’ll win?”
Odysseus grinned, pulling back his bowstring once more. His eyes gleamed with confidence.
“It’s almost guaranteed.”

Chapter Text

High atop Mount Olympus, the gods reclined in luxury, watching the mortal game unfold below like an elaborate drama put on for their amusement. A massive viewing pool reflected the courtyard of Ithaca’s palace, where feet pounded against stone and grass, and laughter echoed as the competition raged on.
Hermes, perched on the edge of his seat, grinned widely and gestured toward the image. “Look at my great grandson! Look how well he’s doing!” His chest puffed with pride as Odysseus pulled off another clever maneuver, his bow slung over his shoulder as he strategized alongside Menelaus.

Dionysus, sprawled lazily on a velvet couch, took a slow sip of wine before flashing a grin. “Yes, yes, but my mad little one is doing quite well too, wouldn’t you say?” He waved a hand toward the pool, where Antinous was sneaking through the halls with Telemachus in tow his hand still around his wrist. “They already have three flags and that’s not even counting their own.”

Hermes rolled his eyes and turned to Athena. “Alright, goddess of wisdom, which one of your students are you rooting for?”

Athena, seated with composed dignity, didn’t even glance his way. “Neither,” she said smoothly. “I hope they both do well, but I will remain impartial for this.”

Dionysus and Hermes groaned in unison, rolling their eyes at her neutrality.

Hermes, undeterred, turned to the rest of the gods lounging around the grand hall. “Alright, what about the rest of you? Whose side are you on?”

Hera, who had been observing with interest, offered a sly smile. “Odysseus and Menelaus.”

Hermes smirked. “Because they’re both completely crazy for their wives?”

Hera’s grin widened, but she didn’t deny it.

From where she was reclining on Ares’s lap, Aphrodite stretched like a cat after a nap and purred out, “I’m hoping the little one wins.”

Ares, running a hand through her golden hair, nodded in agreement. “Me too.”

Apollo, lounging nearby, scoffed. “Well, since he is using a bow, I have to side with Odysseus.”

Beside him, Artemis inclined her head slightly in agreement.

Poseidon leaned forward, resting his arms on his knees. “I’m for the little brat,” he said with a smirk. “You wouldn’t catch me dead cheering for that mortal nuisance.”

The others chuckled at that, knowing exactly who he meant.

Hephaestus, who had been silent until now, finally spoke, his voice thoughtful. “I think I’ll stay neutral,” he mused, stroking his beard. “I’d rather watch the bonds being forged than pick a side.”

Then, Zeus, who had been reclining in his grand throne, chuckled, stroking his beard with a knowing grin. “I think,” he mused, “that I want that little witch, Circe, to win.”

The gods turned to him with varying expressions of amusement and intrigue.

Dionysus grinned into his goblet. Noting who each of the gods chose to cheer for he also noted with special curiosity on Aphrodites interest in Telemachus. “Now will be fun to watch.”

Chapter Text

As Telemachus and Antinous made their way back through the halls, four more flags in hand, Antinous huffed, adjusting his grip on them. “No offense, little wolf, but I don’t think your father was right about this being a strategy game. Those princesses aren’t even trying.”
Telemachus chuckled, reaching out to pat Antinous’s shoulder with an easy smile. “It’s not their fault. Their fathers only have them learning how to run a household. They probably weren’t trained for anything like this.”
Antinous sighed, rolling his eyes. “I guess so.”

As they reached the door to Telemachus’s room, Antinous suddenly stopped, his expression turning serious. “Listen, little wolf” He hesitated for a second, then met Telemachus’s gaze. “You know your plan to travel once this is all over?”
Telemachus nodded “Yeah.”

Antinous shifted his weight slightly glancing away before taking a deep breath. “I’m willing to come with you,” he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck as a light flush crept up his face. “I mean only if you want.”

Telemachus blinked, feeling warmth rise to his own cheeks. He smiled, soft and a little surprised. “I’d like that, Antinous.”

Antinous nodded quickly, looking relieved but still slightly pink as Telemachus turned the handle and pushed open the door.

Inside, Thalina was perched on the bed, happily munching on a snack something Eurycleia had probably brought her. The moment she spotted them in the doorway, she let out a delighted noise, scrambled to her feet, and ran straight for them.

“I protected the flag!” she declared, throwing her arms around both of their legs in a triumphant hug.

Antinous grinned. “Good job, princess.”

Telemachus knelt to her level, ruffling her hair. “I hope you didn’t fill up on snacks. Lunch will be soon.”

Thalina rocked back on her heels, standing on her tiptoes as her finned ears flared slightly. She flashed a proud smile. “Mama Circe says I could eat thirty pigs and still be hungry!” Both Telemachus and Antinous shared a brief, horrified look at the implication of eating even one of Circe’s pigs, but they quickly masked their expressions and smiled at the little nymph.

Telemachus chuckled, tapping her nose lightly. “Well, let’s try to keep it to just one or two servings at lunch, alright?”
Thalina giggled and nodded, completely unaware of the way the two boys were still very much trying not to picture what or who exactly she might have eaten on Circe’s island. After a few moments Antinous let out a dramatic sigh as he walked over to the bed, barely making it before flopping down onto the mattress with a groan. “I’m exhausted,” he announced. Telemachus, standing by the door, arched an eyebrow at him before rolling his eyes. “You’re exhausted?” he repeated, sounding thoroughly unconvinced.
Without another word, he walked across the room and promptly threw himself down on top of Antinous landing with just enough force to make the older boy grunt in surprise.
Antinous instinctively wrapped his arms around Telemachus’s waist, half to steady him and half just because he could and turned them slightly to the side. Telemachus huffed, shifting slightly but making no real effort to move.
“What do you have to be exhausted for?” he asked, tilting his head to look down at Antinous. “I was the one doing all the sneaking, all the climbing, all the actual work out there.”

Antinous smirked, tilting his head back against the pillows as if he were already drifting into a nap. “Well, that was exhausting to watch.”

Telemachus scoffed, giving him a light poke to the ribs, but he still didn’t move from where he was half draped over him.
Before either of them could say anything else, Thalina decided to join in. The little nymph scrambled up onto the bed with a determined expression using her tiny claw tipped fingers to grip onto whatever fabric or flesh she could reach. She climbed with an almost single minded focus, heedless of the soft protests from the boys beneath her as her claws scraped lightly over their arms and sides.

“Thalina” Telemachus began, only to inhale sharply when she accidentally pinched a particularly sensitive spot.

Antinous winced, but the corners of his lips twitched upward in amusement. “Sharp little thing, aren’t you?” Thalina paid them no mind, continuing her climb until she reached the top of the tangled pile. With a triumphant stretch, she let out a small, satisfied sigh before flopping down between them, her finned ears twitching slightly.
A wide, contented smile spread across her face as she nestled herself into the warmth of their bodies.
Telemachus and Antinous exchanged a glance over her head a mix of exasperation, confusion, and fond amusement.Antinous smirked lazily. “Guess we’re stuck.”
Telemachus sighed but didn’t argue just adjusting slightly to get more comfortable. Thalina, unaware of the silent conversation happening above her, simply let out a pleased little hum and closed her eyes meanwhile the boys resigned themselfs to be human heaters.
About an hour later.
The sharp clang of bells rang through the halls, their deep, echoing chime signaling the call for lunch.

Telemachus stirred first, blinking sleep from his eyes as he stretched, his back arching slightly against the soft mattress. With a groggy sigh, he mumbled, “I guess it’s time for lunch.”

But as he shifted, he realized something both Antinous and Thalina were still asleep.

He glanced down, half expecting at least one of them to be waking up, but Thalina remained curled up between them, snoring softly, her little chest rising and falling in peaceful rhythm. Her finned ears twitched slightly with each breath, but otherwise, she seemed completely undisturbed.

Antinous, on the other hand gods help him was actually grinning in his sleep.

Telemachus stared at him for a moment, resisting the urge to roll his eyes. How can they sleep through that racket?

The sight of them both so at peace, completely undisturbed by the world around them, made something in his chest tighten. It was. nice.

But they did have to get up.

Sighing, Telemachus reached out and gently shook Thalina’s shoulder.

“Come on, little princess,” he murmured. “Time to wake up.”

Thalina wrinkled her nose and let out a soft whine, but after a few more seconds of coaxing, her eyes fluttered open. She blinked up at him sleepily before yawning, stretching her tiny arms as she slowly started to wake.

That left Antinous.

Telemachus stared at him for a beat, debating his options. Then, with a shrug and with a mischievous grin on his face, he braced himself and shook him with all his strength.
“Wake up, you oversized log.”

Antinous jolted, eyes snapping open as he let out an undignified grunt. “What!??! What?”

Telemachus just grinned down at him. “Lunch.”
Antinous groaned, rubbing a hand over his face. “You enjoyed that, didn’t you?”
“Very much.”

Thalina, now fully awake, giggled as she sat up, rubbing her sleepy eyes. “Are we getting food now?”

“Yes,” Telemachus confirmed, ruffling her hair before hopping off the bed. “Let’s go before it’s all gone.”

Antinous muttered something under his breath but reluctantly sat up, still looking halfasleep hair ruffled making him look more like a beast than a man.

Telemachus smirked. “Come on, lazy.”

With a huff, Antinous finally swung his legs over the bed, standing up with a stretch. “You’re lucky I don’t throw you over my shoulder and make you sleep through lunch.”

Telemachus rolled his eyes but couldn’t help the small laugh that escaped him.
With Thalina now clinging to his hand and Antinous still grumbling under his breath, they finally made their way toward the dining hall.

Chapter Text

They made their way through the halls toward the dining hall, the scent of freshly baked bread and roasted meat filled the air. The warmth of midday light streamed through the windows, patches on the stone floors of hay would probably be nice to lay on and get warm. Thalina having gotten tired from all the walking now ridding on Telemachus’s shoulders.
Suddenly, Telemachus stopped in his tracks.

“I’ll be right back,” he said abruptly.
Before Antinous could ask why, Telemachus turned and, without hesitation, handed Thalina off to him.

Antinous instinctively caught the little nymph, his arms securing around her as she let out a surprised giggle. He blinked, looking between her and Telemachus. “Uh what?”
“I won’t be long!” Telemachus called over his shoulder, already turning and sprinting back toward his room.

Antinous sighed, adjusting Thalina in his arms as she wrapped her tiny hands into the fabric of his tunic. “Our fearless leader is so dramatic.”
Thalina giggled again. “I like it when he runs fast. His hair goes all bouncy.”

Antinous smirked. “Yeah, yeah, let’s just hope he doesn’t crash into anything.”

Meanwhile, Telemachus reached his room and threw open the door, heading straight for his desk. With practiced ease, he reached beneath the wooden surface, fingers brushing against the hidden latch. A quiet click sounded, and a small panel slid open.

Inside, safely tucked away, was what he had come for.

A set of earrings.

They were crafted from pure gold, shaped into elegant crescent moons and surrounded by pearl’s. A wolf, was carved into the center of each, its form sleek and powerful. Set into the wolf’s eyes were two small, gleaming emeralds.

Telemachus picked them up, running his thumb over the delicate craftsmanship.

“Asteria was right,” he murmured to himself. “Klytos really does make the finest jewelry in all of Ithaca.”

He let out a satisfied breath before tucking the earrings carefully into his pocket and turning on his heel.

With that, he hurried back down the halls, eager to rejoin the others.

As Telemachus rejoined them, Antinous adjusted his grip on Thalina, his gaze sharp with curiosity. “Alright, little wolf, what was so important that you had to run off like that?”

Telemachus flashed him a grin, his hands tucked casually into his pockets. “I have a gift for you.”

Antinous smirked, tilting his head slightly, his expression full of playful arrogance. “Oh? Let me guess your undying love, affection, and loyalty?”

Telemachus scoffed, rolling his eyes but unable to hide the amused huff that escaped him. “No.”

Without another word, he reached into his pocket, pulled out the earrings, and pressed them into Antinous’s hand before continuing down the hall as if nothing had happened.

Antinous blinked in surprise, looking down at his palm. At first, he just saw gold, but as he turned them over, the details became clear the elegant crescent moon with pale pearl’s on the outside, a wolf carved in the center, and the final touch twin emeralds set into the wolf’s eyes. Much like his own wolf’s eyes.

For a moment, all the teasing and bravado drained away, replaced by something quiet and warm.

He could tell just from looking at them that they weren’t just some random trinkets Telemachus had picked up on a whim. The craftsmanship was intricate, the design deliberate.

He had thought about this.

Setting Thalina down gently, Antinous ran his thumb over the earrings, his lips tugging into a slow, thoughtful smile. Then, without hesitation, he slipped them into his ears, the weight of them settling comfortably.

Once he was sure they were secure, he crouched slightly to Thalina’s level, spreading his arms. “Well?” he asked, his grin returning. “How do I look?”

Thalina gasped in delight, her finned ears flaring up. “You look pretty!” she chirped. Antinous placed a hand over his heart, gasping dramatically. “Not quite what I was going for, but I suppose I’ll take it.”

Thalina giggled, clapping her hands together.

Still smiling, Antinous reached out and ruffled her hair before gently taking her tiny hand in his. He glanced down the hall, where Telemachus was walking ahead, as if he hadn’t just casually given him one of the most thoughtful gifts he’d ever received.

Shaking his head fondly, Antinous straightened up. “Come on, little sea sprite,” he said, starting forward, tugging her along with him. “Let’s go catch up with our fearless leader before he decides to run off again and get me a crown to match.”

As the three of them slipped into their usual seats, they quickly realized the dining hall was already buzzing with conversation. Most of the kings, their wife’s, their children, and nobles had arrived, their voices filling the space as food and wine were passed around. Thalina, as always, made herself comfortable on Antinous’s lap, her small fingers idly playing with a loose thread on his tunic as he reached for his cup of wine.

Across the table, Odysseus grinned at them, his sharp eyes glinting with mischief. “So,” he said, swirling his own cup lazily, “where did you two decide to set up your home base?”

Antinous took a slow sip of wine, meeting Odysseus’s gaze over the rim of his cup before smirking. “Oh, we’re never gonna tell you, old man”

A loud gasp cut through the table, drawing everyone’s attention to King Philomenes, a broad shouldered, heavy set man with a deep, rumbling voice. He looked utterly scandalized. “Young man, you shouldn’t speak to your king that way!”

Antinous raised a brow, then flicked his gaze to Odysseus and Telemachus, wordlessly asking, Is this man serious?

Odysseus, completely unbothered, just laughed. “Oh, kind King Philomenes, don’t be alarmed. Despite his appearance, his mouth, and his general attitude toward life, Antinous can actually be a very kind and gentle person.”

At this, the table went silent for a moment. Several kings leaned in slightly, intrigued, while Philomenes himself perked up. “Oh? Great King Odysseus, please, tell us more of his kind and gentle acts.”

Antinous, mid drink, nearly choked. He set his cup down a little too hard and clenched his jaw, doing his best to maintain his composure even as the eyes of half the table turned toward him with curiosity. Anywhere but here, he thought. Anywhere but here would be preferable.

Beside him, Telemachus was barely containing his amusement. He leaned in, voice low and teasing. “I cannot wait to hear about all your kind and gentle feats.”

Antinous turned to him with a deadpan expression but a slight blush on his face he muttered, “I should have let the suitors kill you. Would’ve been a lot less effort and a lot less embarrassment on my part.”

Telemachus simply grinned at Antinous’s grumbled complaint, leaning in just a little closer. In a soft whisper, he murmured, “The earrings suit you, by the way.”

Antinous, already flustered from the attention of the entire table, felt the heat rise to his face even more. He glanced away, taking another sip of his wine to mask his reaction, but the way his fingers brushed over the earrings gave him away.

“Thanks for them,” he muttered, voice a little quieter than usual. “You didn’t have to.”

Telemachus just shrugged, his expression warm but unreadable. “I know,” he said simply, “but I wanted to.”

For a brief moment, Antinous just looked at him. Not with his usual smirk or teasing grin, but with something softer something real. He gave a small, genuine smile, and opened his mouth about to say something else.

But, of course, he didn’t get the chance.

“Well,” Odysseus’s voice rang through the hall, pulling Antinous right back into reality, “it all started when I got back to Ithaca”
Antinous shut his mouth and turned sharply to glare at him, already dreading whatever story was about to come out of the king’s mouth. Telemachus, however, just laughed, settling comfortably into his seat, If Antinous was about to suffer, he was more than happy to enjoy the show.

Chapter Text

Odysseus leaned back in his seat, grinning as he prepared to launch into his tale.
“When I got back to shore after stabbing Poseidon”
Several kings at the table choked on their wine, and Telemachus immediately brought a hand to his face, already regretting everything.
Antinous, beside him, muttered under his breath, “Oh, this is going to be great.” Oblivious to or perhaps thoroughly enjoying the reactions around him, Odysseus continued.
“I hiked my way up the hill to my palace, but imagine my surprise when I find a horde of men lounging around like they own the place.” He gave a pointed look toward Antinous, who merely raised a brow and took another sip of his wine. “So, I shot out a little prayer to Athena, pulled myself together, and disguised myself as a beggar. Thought I’d play it safe.”

Across the table, Menelaus let out an amused huff. “You? Playing it safe?”
Odysseus rolled his eyes but ignored him.

“I made my way to the front gates, and that’s when I saw Argos my childhood dog. Rest his soul.” His expression grew momentarily solemn. “The moment he saw me, he wagged his tail. I gave him a pet, told him he was a very good boy then he died.”

A heavy silence fell over the table.

“You just killed the mood,” Antinous deadpanned.

“I did not!”Odysseus argued. “It’s an important part of the story!” He waved a hand. “Anyway, I placed a few coins in his mouth because when I die, I fully intend to hang out with my dog again, and he’ll need money to pass over. Then, I made my way inside the palace.”
A few of the gathered kings nodded in approval at that, while others looked vaguely horrified.

Odysseus ignored them all and pressed on.

“A few hours passed it was early in the morning and I decided to get some food. So, I slipped into the kitchen, and just as I was about to grab something, I heard “Hey, you.”He paused for dramatic effect before pointing at Antinous. “And who do I see standing there, looking half asleep but still as looking irritated as ever? Our dear Antinous.”

All eyes turned to Antinous, who sighed heavily and pinched the bridge of his nose.

“You really don’t need to bring this up,” he muttered.

Odysseus grinned like a wolf. “Oh, but I must.” He turned back to the table. “So, Antinous asks if I’m hungry. I nod because, of course I am and what does he do? He cooks me eggs. And then, without another word, he just hands them to me asks what my story was and when I ignored him he basically just shrugged saying something about how he doesn’t care before trudging back to bed like it was the most normal thing in the world! Although if you ask me I think he was a little hurt to be ignored”

A few kings looked vaguely impressed, while others chuckled under their breath.

King Philomenes, however, raised a skeptical brow. “While sweet, that’s just one act.”

Odysseus’s grin widened. “Ah, but that isn’t the last act he did.”

Telemachus glanced at Antinous, smirking as he whispered, “Can’t wait to hear about all your kind and gentle feats.”

Antinous, still leaning back in his seat, shot him a dry look before muttering under his breath, “I wish you’d dad killed me with the others”

Odysseus took another leisurely sip of his wine before setting the cup down with a satisfied sigh. He looked around at the gathered kings, his sharp eyes glinting with amusement.

“I’m sure you all remember that wretched blizzard we had a while back. The one that came out of nowhere unnatural, even, for the season.”

Almost everyone at the table nodded, murmuring in agreement. Some of the kings exchanged glances, recalling how that storm had frozen their lands and made travel near impossible.

“Well,” Odysseus continued, “I was still disguised as a beggar at the time, huddled against a cold stone wall in one of the palace hallways, just trying to keep from freezing my ass off”

“Language,” Penelope cut in, giving him a pointed look over the rim of her cup.

Odysseus merely grinned. “Trying to keep from freezing my royal behind off,” he corrected dramatically, before turning back to his audience. “I had myself tucked against a wall thinking I’d be left alone to shiver through the night, when who do I hear coming down the hall?”

He gestured toward Antinous with a lazy wave of his hand. “Him and my baby boy.”

Telemachus, who had been quietly drinking his own wine, nearly choked. “Dad ”

Odysseus ignored him.

“Now, my son, bless his oblivious heart, didn’t even see me because of the mountain of blankets he was buried under carrying, But Antinous did.”

A few of the kings turned their attention back to Antinous, who had been reclining comfortably in his chair, clearly bored of the conversation. At the mention of his name, he let out a quiet sigh, his fingers still idly playing with one of Thalina’s curls.

Odysseus leaned forward, his grin widening. “And what did he do? He stopped not only to give me another blanket, but to offer me his own room for the night before walking off like it was nothing.”

That caught the interest of the more skeptical kings.

Antinous, who was absentmindedly tickling Thalina behind her finned ears, merely huffed. “It was nothing.”

Odysseus ignored him and continued, eyes glinting mischievously. “Now, at the time, I had no idea where he spent the rest of the night. It wasn’t until later that I found out he’d been staying in my baby boy’s room”

Telemachus groaned, covering his red face. “Dad, stop ”

“to keep watch in case anyone dared sneak into my wife’s room of course” Odysseus added a few seconds too late for it to not be an intentional delay in wording.

That bit of information caused murmurs to spread among the gathered kings and nobles. Some of them nodded in approval, others whispering amongst themselves.

King Philomenes, who had previously been skeptical, now regarded Antinous with a slightly different expression though he remained quiet.

Odysseus, pleased with their reactions, leaned back in his chair and smirked. “Oh, and speaking of my wife” He turned to Menelaus asking “remember how you summoned my son to Sparta?”

Telemachus tensed slightly, his fingers curling around the stem of his cup.

Odysseus continued without hesitation. “Well my son and Antinous had bells installed in his mother’s room, in case of an intruder, just in case.”

A few kings leaned in, intrigued.

“Well, one night, Antinous having had been awake for days at this point heard those bells ring. Didn’t hesitate. Didn’t even think just ran straight for the room.”

The table fell into a hushed silence.

“When he got there, there was a man standing over my wife’s bed.” Odysseus’ voice was even, but there was a sharp edge beneath it. “A former friend of his, if you can believe it.”

A few of the princesses down the table visibly squirmed.

“And Antinous? He didn’t stop to ask questions. He saw a man where he shouldn’t have been, and he drove his blade right into him.”

There were murmurs of approval from some of the kings.

“But,” Odysseus continued, his expression darkening, “the bastard wasn’t alone.”

That caught the attention of even the more stoic rulers.

“There was another one hiding behind the door.” Odysseus shook his head. “Antinous didn’t see him in time.”

Some of the kings muttered among themselves, their expressions tense.

“Mear moments after he stabbed his so called friend, the second man came out of hiding and struck him down knocked him clean off his feet.”

Telemachus’ grip on his cup tightened even more at this mention.

Odysseus exhaled through his nose. “Now, I had only just gotten into bed when I heard the commotion, so I got up grabbed by bow and I rushed in, and what do I see?” His voice turned sharp. “Antinous on the ground, and a filthy little coward raising a dagger over him.”
Silence gripped the table.

Odysseus mimed drawing a bowstring again, fingers flexing as if he could still feel the weight of his weapon.

“Bam arrow right through his throat. He choked on his own blood as he hit the ground.”

Some of the kings nodded grimly, others exchanging glances of concern. The warriors in the room the ones seasoned in battle simply looked satisfied.

Odysseus leaned back, satisfied. “So, you see, this man” He nodded toward Antinous. “not only provided food,warmth,and shelter for me, a man he thought was just a beggar, but he also sacrificed sleep and safety to keep my wife and my son protected.”

Silence followed his words, heavier than before.

Odysseus smirked. “That’s why I don’t fault him for speaking a little rougher than most. Because I know exactly how he is when he thinks no one is watching.”

He then made a broad gesture in Antinous’s direction.

The kings turned to look and sure enough, Antinous had completely tuned out of the conversation.

Instead, he was currently engaged in a very serious game of tickle the nymph, his hands teasing at the sensitive spots behind Thalina’s ears as she giggled uncontrollably, kicking her little legs and swatting at his hands with zero success.

Telemachus watched the scene unfold, a soft smile creeping onto his lips.

Odysseus, clearly amused, turned back to the gathered kings and with a calm smile on his face he said.”See?”

Chapter Text

I will not be updating for likely the rest of the week I just got home from the emergency vet I had to put down the cat I had since I was 5 she was roughly 17 years old. here is the promised update but I need to take some time to mourn. I have not had any sleep this night. I apologize for the bad grammar in this note I can’t see anything rn

I know this has nothing to do with the story but I thought you should all know about what kind of a cat Mrs Thatcher was, when I was 5 my grandmother took me to the walking track and I saw a thin cat eating a lizard, we caught the cat she was surviving off of eating lizards and drinking pool water so by the time we could catch her and take her home with us she unfortunately had to have 19 teeth removed although that didn’t stop her from gumming (bitting) people, me and my dad were the only people in the house she really liked in fact for most of the chapters I made she was on my lap, it’s going to be different and hard but my cat was a survivor, and I’m going to do everything with her legecy in mind.

Chapter Text

Telemachus leaned forward, propping his elbows on the table, and flashed a victorious grin.
“By the way, Father,” he said, drawing out the title in a way that was both smug and playful, “we have seven flags not including our own.”
Odysseus raised a brow, clearly impressed, but his smirk was quick to follow. “That would be very impressive,” he said, “if Menelaus and I didn’t also have seven flags not including our own.”
Telemachus blinked. Then scowled. “You’re lying.”

Menelaus, who had been enjoying his wine in silence, merely chuckled. “Afraid not, boy.”

Antinous let out an exaggerated sigh, reclining in his chair. “All that effort,” he groaned, “just to be tied with two old men.”

Menelaus gave him a pointed look. “Old men who are going to beat you.”
Telemachus opened his mouth to retort, but before he could, Queen Eudora, wife of King Echelaos, turned her attention to Penelope.
She smiled, but there was a trace of something else in her expression something sad. “It’s so sweet that your husband stayed so lotal to you all those years apart.”

There was a subtle sadness in her tone. The entire table knew why. Echelaos’s unfaithfulness was the second worst kept secret in Greece, right behind Odysseus being a chaos monster.

Said husband chuckled and leaned back in his chair, his fingers drumming idly against his goblet. “Oh, I’m sure Odysseus had his share of fun over the years he was gone.” He smirked, voice dripping with arrogance. “He is a man, after all.”

The room fell silent. Some kings put a comforting hand on their wife’s, others sent them a look of reassurance.

Odysseus, who had been sipping his wine, slowly lowered his cup. His sharp eyes locked onto Echelaos, and a dangerous glint flickered across his face.

Then, without warning, he slammed his fist onto the table.

The impact made goblets rattle, and some of the nobles flinch, before Odysseus could speak, a sound cut through the tension
Laughter.

A light, melodious laugh, rich with amusement.

The attention of the room turned toward the source.
Circe.
She was seated elegantly, a knowing smirk gracing her lips, her golden eyes glinting like the sun itself.

She tilted her head, auburn curls shifting over her shoulder. “I am, arguably, very beautiful, correct?” Her tone was almost lazy, as though the answer were obvious. “Blessed by the gods?”

There was a moment of silence before kings, queens, and princesses alike nodded. Even Helen who had been blessed by Aphrodite herself inclined her head in agreement.

Penelope, ever graceful, gave a small nod as well.

Circe’s smile widened as she turned her attention back to Echelaos, her gaze sharp.

“If what we have agreed upon is indeed true,” she continued, voice as smooth as honey, “then tell me why, when I attempted to seduce Odysseus in an effort to kill him, did he start sobbing about missing his wife?”
A hush fell over the table.

Echelaos’s smirk faltered.

Circe leaned forward, resting her chin on her palm. “Maybe, King Echelaos,” she mused, “it is not all men who share this supposed flaw that seems to plague your marriage.” Her expression darkened, her voice laced with something almost pitying.
“Perhaps,” she said, “it is you who has the shortcoming.”
Echelaos stiffened.
Circe let her gaze flick toward Queen Eudora, then back at him.

“After all,” she continued smoothly, “your wife is a gorgeous woman in her own right.” Her lips curled. “It is quite a shame she is stuck with a fool like you.” There was a pause before she continued. “If she ever does grow tired of it she is more than welcome to join me on my island”
There was a moment of pure silence.
Then, quiet laughter rippled through the table. Some of the kings smirked behind their goblets, others merely watched the exchange with interest. A few of the queens smiled in satisfaction.

Queen Eudora, for the first time that night, looked not as dejected and almost looked hopeful.

Echelaos, on the other hand, had no response. His jaw clenched, and his knuckles turned white where they gripped his goblet.

Odysseus, still standing, let out a satisfied huff before sinking back into his chair.
Menelaus merely smirked and lifted his cup. “To loyalty,” he said, voice rich with amusement.

Several others joined in, raising their goblets.
Circe, looking entirely unbothered, merely picked up her own drink and took a slow, deliberate sip winking at Queen Eudora.

Chapter Text

The kings sit reclined in their seats, stomachs full and mouths loosened by wine, their voices louder, their laughter freer now that Circe had said what’s what. At the end of the table, Nestor leans forward, eyes twinkling with mischief. He taps a finger against his goblet, signaling for attention, though most of the men are already listening. “Tell me,” he begins, lips curling into a smirk. “Has Odysseus ever shared with any of you how he used to shave his face, slip into women’s clothes, and sneak into Eurylochus’ tent at night?”

Odysseus, who had just taken a sip of wine, closes his eyes for a long, suffering moment before setting his goblet down with an audible clink. “Nestor” but the old king was on a roll, waving a hand to silence him. “No, no, let me finish,” he insists, eyes gleaming. “He’d creep in without a sound, gentle as a leaf falling, lower himself beside Eurylochus ” Nestor pauses for dramatic effect, leaning in slightly, voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper, “and caress his face. Then, in the softest voice you can imagine, he’d murmur, ‘Hello, my darling husband.’”
The reaction is immediate.

Telemachus, who had been lazily twirling the stem of his goblet occasionally poking at Thalina who now sat in his lap, suddenly goes rigid, eyes wide with sheer horror. Antinous nearly chokes on his wine. Helen raises an eyebrow, smirking behind the rim of her cup, while Menelaus shakes his head, already grinning like a man who knows exactly where this is going.

“And the best part?” Nestor continues, beaming. “Eurylochus fell for it every single time thinking it was Ctimene!”

For a moment, silence hangs in the air as everyone processes the absolute absurdity of what they’ve just heard.

Then the dam breaks.

Antinous slaps a hand against the table, roaring with laughter. “By the gods!” he wheezes, gripping the edge of the wood as if it’s the only thing keeping him upright. “You mean to tell me every time?”

“Every. Single. Time,” Nestor confirms, nodding sagely.

Antinous tips backward in his chair, gasping for air between bouts of laughter. Telemachus, still staring at his father like he’s a stranger, barely manages to form words. “What do you mean every time?” he demands. “Did he? He never”

“No Odysseus never let it go that far ,” Nestor says with a grin.

Odysseus, who has been rubbing his temples in pure exasperation, finally exhales and mutters, “Eurylochus was a very tired man during the war and I was a very bored one.”

That only makes the laughter worse.

Menelaus, wiping a tear from his eye, shakes his head with the kind of fond amusement only a man who has seen too much can muster. “Oh I’ve seen it myself. Odysseus is a fine man but he’s an even finer woman.”

This time, Antinous actually falls off his chair.

Helen stifles a laugh behind her hand as Menelaus, grinning, leans back in his seat. “Honestly, if things had gone differently, I think he could have married Ajax and no one would have batted an eye! The boy was always complaining to me about the beautiful woman he would sometimes see enter and leave Eurylochus’s tent.”

At this, even Odysseus lets out a short bark of laughter before quickly hiding it behind his cup.

But thenjust when the laughter is beginning to die down Penelope, who has remained quiet throughout the entire ordeal, calmly sets her goblet on the table, fingers still loosely curled around the stem. She tilts her head ever so slightly, regarding her husband with a considering look.

And then, in the most matter of fact tone imaginable, she says, “Well, in his defense, the two of them do look quite similar.”

The room erupts.

Menelaus leans forward, practically wheezing. Helen, who has managed to keep composed up until now, finally bursts into laughter, her shoulders shaking. Nestor is doubled over, slapping a hand against his knee.

Antinous, still half on the floor, flails an arm in Odysseus’ direction. “Your own wife thinks it’s plausible!” he cackles. “Gods above, this is the best night of my life.”

Telemachus just stares at his mother, absolutely betrayed. “Mother!”
Penelope only takes another sip of wine, unbothered. “What? I’m just saying. They have the same nose and eyes, and hair,and height.”

At this point, Antinous is fully crying and Telemachus snaps his head towards him before saying “you have no room to laugh when you and your sister are literally the same just different genders!” Antinous glares playfully before smirking and saying “wrong! Unlike the king I’m actually taller than my sister!

Odysseus, resigned, rubs a hand over his face and picks up his goblet once more. “I should’ve just died at Troy,” he mutters.

But of course, not a single person is listening.

Chapter Text

Antinous finally having stopped crying from laughing let out an exaggerated sigh as he stood, rolling his shoulders as if he had just let go off the weight of the world. He lifted Thalina from Telemachus lap before adjusting her in one arm, the little nymph giggling as she clung to him, her finned ears twitching excitedly. Then, without warning, he reached down with his free hand, grabbed Telemachus by the scruff of his chiton, and lifted him off the ground with ease
Well,” Antinous drawled, his voice full of smug amusement, “it’s time for me, Thalina, and the little wolf to get back to beating the rest of you at this game.”

Far from protesting, Telemachus twisted in Antinous’s grip until he managed to face the room, his expression utterly unbothered. If anything, he looked entertained by the whole thing. He lifted a hand in a casual wave, grinning, as if being hauled around like a kitten was nothing new to him and judging by the lack of real resistance, it probably wasn’t.
The room watched in varying degrees of amusement and disbelief.

Diomedes, his arms crossed over his chest, smirked but said nothing, while Nestor, ever the wise old king, simply shook his head with an exasperated chuckle, as if he had seen far worse antics in his time. Others were less composed.

Patrocleia, for one, looked outright scandalized. Her back stiffened as she placed her cup down with deliberate care, her expression the very picture of poised disapproval. Then, with the kind of smile that masked a dagger beneath honeyed words, she turned to Odysseus.
“Are you really going to allow him to manhandle your son like that?” she asked

Odysseus, reclining comfortably in his chair, didn’t so much as blink. Instead, he lazily pointed down the hall where Antinous and Telemachus were already disappearing. Telemachus had, rather impressively, managed to maneuver himself around so that instead of dangling helplessly, he now rested against Antinous’s back, his arms draped loosely over his shoulders his head tilted slightly as he spoke to him in hushed tones. Even from here, the easy familiarity between them was unmistakable the kind that came not just from time spent together, but from the kind of trust that ran deep.

“He seems pretty happy where he is right now,” Odysseus remarked dryly before taking a slow sip of wine.

Patrocleia pursed her lips, clearly not satisfied with that response, but before she could voice another word, King Philomenes ever cheerful but oblivious beamed. “It’s so wonderful that the young prince Telemachus has made such a good friend!” he declared warmly, nodding im approvalwith the confidence of a man who believed he had summed up the situation perfectly.

Across the table, Menelaus, who had just taken a sip of his drink, promptly choked. He set his cup down with a clatter, his shoulders shaking as he attempted to contain himself, but within seconds, he gave up and let out a loud, unrestrained laugh.
Diomedes hid a smirk behind his cup as if he knew a secret while Nestor simply let out a long suffering chuckle, as if he had just been let in on said secret, Helen pressing a delicate hand to her temple with a sigh, while others at the table exchanged glances some knowingly, some utterly bewildered by the outburst.
Meanwhile, down the hall, Telemachus having finally managed to squirm enough to climb onto Antinous’s back properly, hooking his arms loosely around his neck.

“This is so undignified,” Telemachus muttered, though he made no real effort to get down.

“Then walk yourself, little wolf,” Antinous replied, adjusting his grip on Thalina, who was still giggling and squirming.

Telemachus merely sighed and rested his chin on Antinous’s shoulder, a small, content smile playing at his lips as they made their way toward their room Antinous hair ticking his nose.

Chapter Text

Hector had always imagined fatherhood differently. It should have been warm days in Ilium’s gardens, teaching Astyanax to wield a tiny wooden sword, watching him grow into the prince he was meant to be. Not this holding his son in the gray fields of the dead, where time stood still, and the weight of eternity pressed against his shoulders. And yet, in this strange existence after death, his son still fit perfectly in his arms. Astyanax, now forever the laughing child he had been in life, curled against his chest, playing with the ends of his father’s hair as if they still lived beneath the walls of Troy.

For years, Hector had thought the biggest thorn in his side would always be his younger brother, Paris. Paris, with his careless selfish ways, his foolish love, his knack for making everything infinitely worse. And yet, standing before him now, hands on his hips and a glint in his eyes, Polites had proven him wrong.

“It’s my turn to hold him.”

Hector barely spared Polites a glance. “What?”

Polites crossed his arms. “I said, it’s my turn to hold him. You’ve been hogging the baby for the past twenty years.”

Hector clutched Astyanax tighter, narrowing his eyes. “You mean my son? My child whom I died for? Who was murdered by your best friend? That baby?”
Polites waved a dismissive hand. “Oh, come on. That’s hardly my fault. Zeus told Odyssey to do it, anyway! What was he supposed to do, not listen to the king of the gods?”

I’m Hector just stared at him.

Polites huffed. “Look, I know how this sounds, but it’s not like I personally chucked the kid off the walls. And besides” he grinned, reaching over before Hector could move away “he likes his Uncle Poli, yes he does!”

Polites wiggled his fingers against Astyanax’s belly, making the child shriek with laughter.

Hector scowled. “Stop tickling my baby.”

“Never!” Polites declared, wiggling his fingers again and making Astyanax squirm delightedly.
“Polites, I swear”

“See? He loves it.” Polites beamed as Astyanax grabbed onto his wrist, giggling uncontrollably. “Face it, Hector. You’re being selfish. I deserve some time with the little guy.”

Hector exhaled sharply, pressing his forehead into Astyanax’s soft curls. “You are insufferable.”

“And you are a baby hoarder.”
“He’s my baby.”
“Details.” Polites flapped a hand. “Just let me hold him for, like, five minutes.”

Hector let out a long, suffering sigh as Astyanax clapped his hands, delighted by the attention. He supposed, in the grand scheme of things, there were worse fates than his son being doted on by an overly enthusiastic, Greek soldier. After all it could be worse. It could be Paris.

“Fine. Five minutes.”

“Finally!” Polites reached out, eyes shining with victory. “Come here, kiddo”

Hector immediately pulled Astyanax away. “On second thought, no.” With that he began walking away.
Polites groaned. “Hector!”

Yes. Paris had been a headache in life. But clearly, the gods had decided Hector needed one more in death.

Chapter Text

Antinous walked into Telemachus’s room, his grip firm but careful on the two passengers he carried. The moment he crossed the threshold, he effortlessly tossed Thalina onto the bed. She let out a small, happy squeak as she bounced a few times before rolling toward the largest, fluffiest pillow she could find. With a sleepy yawn, she curled into it, burying her face in the soft fabric. Within seconds, she was out already drifting into a deep, wellearned nap.
Antinous wasn’t done.

Without hesitation, he reached behind himself and grabbed Telemachus off his back, hoisting him up by the scruff of his chiton. With practiced ease, he set him firmly on the ground, his sharp eyes never leaving Telemachus’s face.
“How do you feel?.” His voice was steady, but there was something pressing beneath it something Telemachus knew better than to ignore.That didn’t mean he wouldn’t try.

“About what?” Telemachus smiled, forcing a casual ease into his voice, but Antinous wasn’t having it.

His jaw clenched, his teeth grinding together for a moment before his hand shot out, fingers gripping Telemachus’s jaw and forcing him to meet his gaze.

“Cut the bullshit,” Antinous ordered, his voice sharper now, less patient. “You’ve been off ever since your dad talked about your dog dying.”

He studied Telemachus’s face, waiting, watching. Then he tilted his head slightly, something clicking in his expression.

“Did you not know what happened?”
It was almost like something inside Telemachus broke at hearing those words.
“Of course I didn’t know what happened to him!” he spat, His chest suddenly tightened, breath coming quick and uneven. “I thought he ran away because I wasn’t paying attention to him! I thought”He stopped, his throat closing around the words as tears welled in his eyes. He shook his head to the best of his ability, hands curling into fists. “I thought it was all”

“All what?” Antinous pressed, his grip firm, unwavering.

Telemachus inhaled sharply, his voice breaking as the words finally tore out of him.

“All my fault.”

Antinous’s expression didn’t shift, but his grip tightened just slightly. His voice, however, remained level only a touch louder than before.

“Why the hell would it be your fault Telemachus?”

Telemachus had no answer. He stood there, shoulders shaking, silent.

Antinous growled under his breath, gripping his jaw a little tighter. “Speak to me.”
And then all at once Telemachus snapped.
“Because everything is always mmy fault!” he screamed, his voice cracking with the sheer force of it. “It’s my fault my mom had to live in fear for twenty years! It’s my fault my mom was so lonely! It’s my fault that a hundred and seven men died in this house! It’s MY fault my dog is dead!”
The words had barely left his lips before
Crack!!

The slap echoed through the room.

Telemachus’s head snapped to the side, his breath hitching as his cheek burned from the impact. Wide, tear filled eyes darted up to Antinous, who was furious.
“You’re such a fucking idiot,” Antinous hissed, his voice low and dangerous.
Telemachus blinked, stunned into silence.

Antinous took a slow step forward, his anger sharp but controlled. “Your mother is a strong woman who was more than capable of handling herself. It’s the gods’ fault your father was gone for so long leaving your mother alone. It’s the suitors’ fault they wound up dead,because in case you forgot, they were planning on killing you.”

He exhaled sharply through his nose, then jabbed a finger against Telemachus’s chest.

“And your dog? He was over thirty years old, Telemachus. It was his time.” His voice softened ever so slightly, but the weight of his words remained. “None of this is your fault. Am I understood?”

Telemachus opened his mouth, then closed it, his lips pressing together in a thin line.

Antinous narrowed his eyes. “Say it.”

Telemachus swallowed thickly, his voice barely a whisper. “It’s not my fault.”

“Louder!”

“It’s not my fault,” he repeated, his voice cracking.

Antinous stared at him for a long moment, watching, before he let out a slow breath.
“You have never had control of anything in your life,” he said, quieter now, but no less firm. “You couldn’t control your father leaving for war you were just an infant. You couldn’t control your mother being courted by over a hundred men. You couldn’t control your dog being old and it being his time to go.”
Telemachus clenched his jaw, his breath still unsteady and mind racing,without thinking he said, “What would YOU know about control anyways?!”

Antinous stilled.

For a brief moment, the room was silent. The only thing that could be heard was Thalina’s light snoring.

Slowly he exhaled through his nose. His hands curled into fists, then relaxed. When he spoke, his voice was calm too calm.

“I knew from a young age,” he said, “that I didn’t have control over anything in my life.”
Telemachus blinked, caught off guard by the sudden shift in tone.

Antinous’s gaze was distant now, his jaw tightening before he continued.

“I didn’t have control over liking boys when it was my job, as my father’s only son, to marry a woman of good standing.” His voice didn’t waver, but there was something raw in the way he said it. “I didn’t have control when my father flew into a fit of rage because my mother took me and my sisters to Persia and I came back with my ears pierced. Something he claimed made me look even more like the girl he always thought I was.”

His hands clenched at his sides.

“I didn’t have control when my father told me a few days before my nineteenth birthday, that I was being sent to the palace to win the love and affections of a woman in her thirties.” His lip curled slightly, but there was no humor in it. “I wasn’t in control when I met her son and he actually made me laugh telling me he hoped I choked on my next apple”
His eyes flickered back to Telemachus, something unreadable behind them.
“I wasn’t in control when I became his ally.”
A pause.
A breath.
A confession.

“I wasn’t in control when I fell in love with you.”

The words hung in the air, thick and heavy between them.

Telemachus stared at him, his breath shallow, his heartbeat thundering in his chest.

Antinous didn’t move. Didn’t look away.
Because for once, in a life filled with things beyond his control, this was what he was choosing to say. He was in control.

Chapter Text

Antinous exhaled sharply, rolling his shoulders as if to shake off the weight of his own words. His face was blank no hint of hesitation, no sign of regret. Just quiet resolve. Then he turned away.

“I’m going to go try to get some more flags,” he said, his tone casual, almost detached, as if he hadn’t just said something that would change things between them. “And after this game is over, I’ll move my stuff back to my room.”

With that, he strode toward the door, his steps purposeful. His fingers closed around the handle, and he began to pull it open

But before he could take a single step out the door something slammed into his back with enough force to knock the air from his lungs.

Antinous barely had time to register the impact before he was down,hitting the floor with a heavy thump!

For a second, he just lay there, stunned.

Then he twisted, trying to get a grip on whatever the hell had just tackled him

Only to find himself face to face with Telemachus.

Breathless, wide eyed, still pressed against him, Telemachus had his hands gripped in Antinous’s exomis as if to keep him from slipping away.
Antinous blinked.

“What?,” he said flatly no emotion in his voice or on gus face. Telemachus didn’t let go.
“You don’t get to say something like that and just walk away, Antinous.”

His voice was shaky, half laughing, half shocked like even he couldn’t believe what he’d just done. His chest was rising and falling quickly from the force of his tackle, his hair slightly mussed, his lips parted as if he was still processing the weight of what had been said.

Antinous barely breathed.

Telemachus stared at him, searching him, looking for any sign that it had been a mistake, that it had been a slip of the tongue, something that could be brushed off or forgotten.
But Antinous didn’t waver.
His expression remained steady too steady.And Telemachus needed more.“Say it again.”

Antinous swallowed.
Telemachus’s fingers tightened onto his exomis holding him there, refusing to let him escape.

“Tell me that you love me.”
Antinous exhaled sharply, his eyes flickering with something unreadablesomething heavy.

Then, suddenly, his arms moved.

In one swift motion, he wrapped them around Telemachus’s waist, pulling him closer, securing him in his hold.
And with nothing but certainty, nothing but undeniable truth, he looked Telemachus straight in the eyes and said
“I love you.”

Telemachus barely had time to process those words before Antinous shifted beneath him, flipping their positions so that he was the one pinned to the ground. A startled breath left Telemachus as his back met the floor, Antinous hovering over him now, his grip firm but not harsh. The room felt smaller suddenly, like the walls were closing in, or maybe it was just the weight of everything unsaid between them.

Telemachus could feel his own pulse hammering against his ribs, the warmth of Antinous’s hands against his waist, the way his gaze burned into him with something undeniable.

Still breathless, still overwhelmed, Telemachus searched his face. “You mean it?”

Antinous rolled his eyes but didn’t hesitate in saying “you know I don’t say things I don’t mean.”
That should have been enough. It was enough.
Telemachus had spent years guarding himself, spent years pushing down anything that felt too raw, too vulnerable, too dangerous to admit out loud.

And now? Now he had Antinous this sharp tongued, impossible manlooking at him like he was the only thing that mattered, saying those words with that certainty, it terrified him.
So he did what he did best.

He scoffed, tilting his chin up, forcing a smirk. “You really have a way of making things dramatic, don’t you?”
Antinous rolled his eyes but didn’t move away. Knowing that this is one of the little wolf’s protection methods, “Says the one who just tackled me to the ground.”
“You were leaving,” Telemachus said, the teasing edge to his voice not quite masking the lingering desperation beneath it.

Antinous huffed, amused despite himself. “You could have just asked me to stay.”

Telemachus hesitated just for a second then, softer, more serious, “Would you have?”

Antinous went still.

A breath passed between them.

Then, finally, finally, Antinous sighed and let his forehead rest against Telemachus’s. “Yeah,” he murmured. “I would have.”

Neither of them moved.

Telemachus swallowed hard, his fingers twitching slightly where they rested against Antinous’s arms.

Antinous was so close close enough that Telemachus could count every fleck of gold in his dark eyes, close enough to feel the steady rise and fall of his breath, close enough that if he just tilted his head

The thought sent a shiver through him.

And, gods, Antinous must have noticed because his grip on Telemachus’s waist tightened, just slightly, like he felt it too.

For a moment, they just stayed there, caught in something neither of them could name.

Then, finally, with a small, reluctant breath, Antinous shifted off of him, standing and offering Telemachus a hand.

The moment was over, but something between them had changed.

Telemachus took his hand.

Antinous pulled him to his feet, steadying him and holding his hand for a bit longer than necessary before letting go and smirking. “Alright, little wolf. I am actually going to go get more flags now.”

Telemachus, still catching his breath, crossed his arms. “Fine. But if you come back empty handed, I will be telling everyone that I tackled you to the ground and you just stayed there.”

Antinous snorted. “Of course I stayed there. You were on top of me.”

Telemachus went red. “Shut up.”

Antinous just grinned and before Telemachus could argue he pressed a quick kiss to his cheek turned and slipped out the door.

Telemachus stood there for a long moment after he left, his fingers brushing absentmindedly over the spot where Antinous’s lips had been, his heart still pounding

And then, with a quiet, disbelieving breath, he let himself smile.

Chapter Text

Antinous walked through the halls, his sharp eyes scanning for any spots that princesses could have stashed their flags that might have been overlooked. The game was still on, and he was determined to bring back more flags for his little wolf. But as he passed a wide window overlooking the garden, something caught his attention.
Creon.
Antinous rolled his eyes. That arrogant bastard was always lurking where he didn’t belong. But it wasn’t just Creon’s presence that set him on edge it was the fact that he was speaking to one of Circe’s nymphs.

And something about the scene just felt wrong.

The girl was standing stiffly, her hands curled into the fabric of her dress. Even from a distance, Antinous could see the tension in her shoulders, the way her wide eyes darted around as if looking for an escape. Creon, on the other hand stood too close speaking in that condescending tone he always used when he thought himself untouchable.
Antinous’s stomach twisted. Fuck this.

Without hesitation, he turned and strode down the hall, making his way to the garden with quick, deliberate steps.
When he reached them, he didn’t hesitate.
With a mocking smile, he crossed his arms and tilted his head. “And what the actual fuck do you think you’re doing?” Creon turned sharply, his face contorting in irritation. “That’s none of your business, boy,” he spat. “And while we’re at what you have no business in, my daughter is right you have no business speaking and acting so casually to the prince, but you know what?” He smirked, his voice smooth as venom. “I’m willing to overlook that, so long as you turn around and leave me and this lovely young girl alone.”

As he spoke, he reached out, fingers reaching toward the nymph’s cheek. Making the girl recoil.

Before he could make contact, Antinous moved.

In an instant, he had Creon’s wrist locked in his grip, his fingers pressing down with enough force to send a clear message. Creon flinched, eyes widening at the sheer strength behind the hold.

Antinous’s expression darkened, his voice dropping to a deadly quiet.

“This girl looks no older than twelve.”

Creon tried to yank his wrist away, but Antinous tightened his grip, adding even more pressure until he felt the bones shift beneath his fingers. Creon tried to yank his arm away, but Antinous didn’t budge. The older man’s face darkened, his pride clearly stung. “Do you have any idea who you’re speaking to, boy?”

Antinous tilted his head, feigning thoughtfulness. “Oh, I know exactly who you are,” he said. “You’re the man whose entire existence is built on an overinflated ego and the assumption that no one will ever put you in your place. And yet“ his grip tightened even more, a small cracking sound could be heard, making Creon grit his teeth “here we are.”

The nymph made a small, startled noise, and Antinous, without looking at her, jerked his head toward the palace. His voice suddenly gentler. “Go,” he told her. “You don’t have to stay here.”
She hesitated for only a moment before nodding quickly and darting away disappearing into the safety of the palace halls. Antinous waited until she was safely out of sight before leaning in slightly, lowering his voice to something dark and dangerous.

“You’re a guest here, Creon,” he said. “And I know you’re not stupid enough to think Circe or Penelope would let you walk away unscathed if they found out about this. You should be grateful I found you first.”

Creon’s face was a storm of fury, his free hand curling into a fist, but he didn’t dare strike. As weird as it was he knew the weight Antinous’s name in this palace is very real , he knew that even if he was a guest, there were limits to how far he could push.

Antinous leaned in just a little closer. “You ever lay a hand on one of Circe’s nymphs again, in fact if I ever come to know that you have laid an unwanted finger on any female, he murmured, his tone almost conversational, “I will make sure you regret it for the rest of your very short, very painful life.”

Then, with one last sharp squeeze enough to make Creon’s knees buckle slightly Antinous finally let go, stepping back as if dismissing him entirely.

Creon cradled his wrist, his nostrils flaring. “You’ll regret this,” he spat.

Antinous just smiled a wolfish smile tilting his head to the side “Try me.”

Then, without another word, he turned on his heel and walked away, rolling his shoulders like he was shaking off the encounter. He could still feel the heat of his own anger simmering beneath his skin, but at least now Creon knew he wasn’t untouchable.

Antinous took a deep breath and muttered to himself, “Right. Now back to the damn flags.” Grinning down at the flag he had managed to snatch from the king now sitting in his hand.

Chapter Text

Back in the dining hall, the evening was still lively with talk laughter after Antinous and Telemachus exit when King Eupheron short but broad shouldered man with a neatly trimmed beard and a habit of talking just a bit too loudly cleared his throat and leaned forward.

“Well, Odysseus,”King Eupheron started resting his elbows on the table, “I’m sure you’ve noticed that many of us have brought our daughters along for this gathering.”

Odysseus, in the middle of taking a sip of wine, paused mid drink. He set his cup down, frog blinking at Eupheron. “Okay?” he said slowly. “And?”

King Eupheron exhaled sharply, clearly expecting more enthusiasm. “Well, your son is getting to a marriageable age,” he pressed, gesturing vaguely toward Telemachus’s empty seat, “so we were wondering if you’d begun considering a bride for him yet.”

A brief silence fell over the table.

Odysseus just cocked his head slightly, utterly unbothered. “Oh, my son is already engaged.”

The response was met with an immediate explosion of reactions. A collective what?! echoed from the gathered kings and their daughters alike. A few princesses gasped, covering their mouths in shock. Others exchanged frantic whispers, trying to figure out who had won the prince’s hand without them noticing.

King Eupheron’s face turned red. “To whom?” he demanded, looking utterly scandalized.

Odysseus, for his part, just shrugged. “Oh, you know,” he said casually, waving a hand, “he threw an apple and everything.”

The table went silent for a beat.

“…What?” another king asked, blinking.

Odysseus grinned and, without missing a beat, picked up a chunk of roasted meat from his plate. He held it up, squinting at it. “This piece looks like a heart,” he mused aloud, then turned to Penelope with a smirk. “That’s how I feel about you.”

Penelope, who has long loved Odysseus’s antics, merely gave him an amused look and sipped her wine.

Odysseus then turned to Menelaus, grabbing another piece of food this one oddly shapedand held it up with a straight face. “This looks like the Wind God’s island. That’s how I feel about you.”
Menelaus, who had been mid drink, froze. He slowly lowered his cup and gave Odysseus a confused, slightly disbelieving look. “What the hell does that even mean?” he asked, clearly struggling to understand.

Odysseus just smiled broadly, an almost mischievous glint in his eye. “It means exactly what it sounds like, Menelaus. Thank you for asking, though,” he said with a childish smile.
The room fell into a brief, stunned silence before laughter erupted at the absurdity of the exchange. Some of the kings were chuckling, clearly enjoying Odysseus’s unpredictability, while others were still trying to piece together the meaning behind his words while other kings were trying to figure out the woman who ensnared the prince, all the princesses however, were now deep in whispered speculation, trying to figure out who the mysterious fiancée could be who had caught Telemachus’s attention in such a way that he was already promised, even without anyone knowing about it.

King Eupheron was fuming at being outmaneuvered in such a public manner, but he wasn’t about to let it show. “Well, that’s interesting,” he muttered, rubbing his beard. “But it seems there’s a great deal we’ve been unaware of.”

Odysseus leaned sideways in his chair, putting his head in Penelope’s lap a lazy smile playing across his face. “What can I say, my son’s a man of action. He doesn’t waste time with formalities. And besides, I’d say he has already chosen wisely.”

Penelope’s lips curled into a smile at that, and her eyes met Odysseus’s with a knowing look.

For a moment, the table went quiet again, the others still trying to wrap their heads around the idea that Telemachus was already promised. It wasn’t long, though, before the conversation shifted, with the other kings discussing their own children’s futures though the mention of Telemachus’s mysterious fiancée hung in the air, leaving a subtle tension in the room.

Odysseus, ever the master of navigating tricky conversations, simply relaxed content in letting the others fill the silence with their musings and him laying on the lovely thighs that belong to his wife.

Meanwhile, the princesses in the hall were whispering furiously among themselves, trying to figure out who Telemachus was engaged to. Theories were already forming, the most popular one being that it must be some hidden noblewoman, a foreign princess, or perhaps even a daughter of the gods.
Little did they know, the answer was standing outside the hall, casually tormenting kings and bragging about stolen flags.

Chapter Text

Back in his room, Telemachus still felt like he was floating.
He flopped onto his bed, exhaling deeply as his mind replayed every second of what had just happened. I wasn’t in control when I fell in love with you. The words still rang in his ears, warm and heavy, settling deep in his chest like a weight he wanted to carry.

He pressed his hands over his face, grinning into his palms like an absolute fool. Antinous had said it. Had admitted it. And Telemachus! The had tackled him to the ground like a lunatic. He chuckled shaking his head at himself before letting his hands drop back to the mattress.
It still felt surreal.

Rolling onto his side, he caught sight of Thalina, curled up on his bed, fast asleep or at least, that’s what he thought. Her small form was nestled against his pillow, her ears twitching slightly in her slumber. The gentle rise and fall of her breathing was steady, peaceful.

Telemachus smiled, watching her for a moment, charmed by how comfortable she had made herself in his space. He let his own eyes drift shut, just for a second, allowing himself to soak in the quiet.
But then, a feeling.

That odd, inexplicable sensation a person gets when they are being watched.
Telemachus hesitated, then cracked one eye open.

Two large golden eyes were staring directly at him.

He nearly jolted in surprise. Thalina hadn’t moved from her spot, but she was no longer sleeping. Instead, she was peering at him with an expression of pure curiosity, her ears twitching slightly as she observed him.

Before he could say anything, she smiled a slow, knowing little grin and in one fluid motion, she crawled up onto his chest, pressing her small hands against his shoulders to keep herself balanced.

Telemachus raised an eyebrow. “Uh. can I help you?”

Thalina tilted her head, her ears flaring open in excitement. Are you and Mister Lion getting married?”

He blinked. “Excuse me?”

Thalina’s grin widened as she leaned in closer. “Are you and Mister Lion getting married?” she repeated slower this time as if the answer should have been obvious.

Telemachus let out a breathless laugh, propping himself up on his elbows. “Well, aren’t you a sneaky little thing? Just how much did you hear?”

Thalina hummed, tapping a small finger to her chin in mock thought. “Hmmm,something something control…something not your fault… blah blah blah…” She then beamed, eyes alight with excitement. “Then he said he loves you!”

Telemachus opened his mouth to respond, but she wasn’t done.

“And that means you guys are getting married, right?”

He blinked again, completely caught off guard by her sheer confidence.

“Is that how it works?” he asked, amused.

Thalina gave a very serious nod. “Yes.”

Telemachus couldn’t help but chuckle, shaking his head as he reached up, resting his hand lightly on her head. He gently ruffled her hair, fingers brushing against her soft ears.

“I wish it were that easy,” he admitted, his voice quieter now. The laughter in his tone softened into something more thoughtful, more real. “But Mister Lion he has a lot of self esteem problems as do I but if he’d let me, I’d be the best husband I could be for him.”

Thalina blinked at him, her expression turning thoughtful. She tapped a tiny finger against his chest. “Mister Lion’s dad isn’t a nice guy, is he?”

Telemachus froze.

He hadn’t expected that question.

Telemachus’s breath hitched slightly. He looked down at her, at those wide, innocent eyes that saw far too much.

Finally, he exhaled, his fingers absently running through her hair as he murmured,

“I don’t think so.”
Thalina studied him for a long moment before sighing dramatically and flopping onto his chest, burying her face against him with a little huff.
Telemachus chuckled, his hand resting on her back as he felt her small body relax.

“Don’t worry,” she mumbled against him. “You can just marry him without his dad around”

He smiled softly, staring up at the ceiling.

“Yeah,” he whispered. “Maybe I will.”

The door slammed open with enough force to rattle the hinges.

Antinous stood in the doorway, wild grin stretching across his face, three flags clutched triumphantly in his hands. His dark curls were disheveled although that’s normal, his chiton messed up and his wolf pelt hanging half off him like he had just sprinted across half the palace and knowing him, he probably had.
“I got ‘em!” he announced, his chest heaving with exhilaration. “This one’s from that asshole Creon, this one I swiped from that bitch Patrocleia” he lifted two of the flags with a smug flourish before holding up the third”and this one, your old maid Eurycleia just handed over to me. Something about Menelaus being a bad influence on Odysseus.”
Telemachus slightly propped himself up,grinning. “That’s great!”
Then he hesitated, side eyeing the tiny nymph still lying across his chest.

“Uh, but maybe don’t use that kind of language when Thalina is in the room?”

Thalina, who had been resting comfortably, perked up at the mention of her name. She turned her golden eyes toward him, entirely unfazed.

“It’s okay,” she assured him. “Mama Circe says stuff like that all the time” she said as if she was stating what she ate for lunch.

Antinous with a wicked grin suddenly was very interested, cocked his head. “Oh yeah? Like what?”

Thalina’s expression became one of deep, innocent thought. Then, with the most angelic little face, she said “She says that that Divine Errand Boy Hermes needs to ‘stay the fuck out of her damn workshop or she will ask Hera to turn him into a woman for the next thousand years.’”

There was a beat of absolute silence.

Telemachus’s mouth fell open.

Antinous blinked.

Thalina, completely oblivious to their stunned reactions, curled back up against Telemachus’s chest as if she hadn’t just casually repeated a threat against a god.

Telemachus, still staring at her, slowly turned to Antinous.

“Oh.”
Antinous then proceeded to stand and leave the room saying “I’ll be right back” Telemachus could have sworn he heard cackling in the hallway.

Chapter Text

When he came back in a confused but delighted smile stretching across Thalinas face and Without hesitation, she pushed herself up and scampered over to him, wrapping her small arms around his legs in a tight hug.

Antinous stiffened for half a second before exhaling, resting a hand lightly on the top of her head. “What’s this for?” he asked, amused but also just a little thrown off.

Thalina pulled back just enough to look up at him, her big eyes serious. “Even though your dad doesn’t love you, I do.”

Antinous inhaled sharply.Eyes cutting to Telemachus,

“And also,” she continued, still earnest, “Mama Circe can turn him into a pig if you want.”

Telemachus choked.

Antinous, on the other hand, let out a loud bark of laughter. “Well, that’s, a very kind offer,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. “Believe it or not, a few of my elder sisters actually like the old man, so let’s just leave him as is, yeah?”

Thalina frowned, clearly dissatisfied with this response. She shifted back slightly, tilting her head in thought. “I can curse him if you want.”

Antinous gave her a look. “Thalina…”

“Just a little curse,” she added quickly, clasping her hands together like she was making a totally reasonable offer.

“We don’t curse people without good reason,” Antinous said, crossing his arms.

Thalina’s frown deepened. “I have good reason.”

“Oh yeah?” Antinous challenged, raising a brow. “And what’s that, kiddo?”

Thalina straightened up, looking him dead in the eye. “He hurts your feelings.”

There was a beat of silence.

Antinous blinked at her, his mouth slightly open as if he was about to respond but had forgotten how words worked.

Meanwhile, Telemachus, watching this entire exchange from his spot on the bed, had his hands clasped over his heart like some fool. “Awww.”

Chapter Text

Antinous shot a glare toward Telemachus, though it held no real heat. Before Telemachus could react, Antinous bent down, effortlessly lifting Thalina into his arms. She let out a surprised squeak, but it quickly turned into delighted laughter as he shifted his grip.

And then, without warning, he ran. Quick!

Telemachus barely had time to process what was happening before Antinous took a flying leap onto the bed, landing with an exaggerated plop right next to him. The force of it sent Telemachus bouncing slightly, and Thalina, now well accustomed to Antinous’s antics, landed gracefully right on top of her chosen pillow Telemachus’s stomach.

With a dramatic sigh, she curled up as if this were the most natural thing in the world, her small hands gripping onto his tunic. “This is my spot now,” she murmured happily.

Telemachus, still recovering from the sudden impact, wheezed. “Gods, Antinous, you’re heavy” “Don’t be rude,” Antinous said with a lazy grin, shifting so that his upper body stretched across Telemachus’s, his chin resting comfortably on his chest. “You love it.”

Telemachus scowled down at him, but there was no real annoyance behind it especially not when Antinous was looking at him like that, all warm and smug and entirely too comfortable draped across him like he belonged there.

And, really, after what had just happened between them after Antinous had been the one to confess first, looking him dead in the eyes and saying it so confidently Telemachus couldn’t even think of pushing him away. “Tell me little prince” Antinous teased, voice low and taunting, though there was a nervous edge beneath it, something vulnerable he was trying to hide behind his usual bravado. “Do you always let strange men lay on you”

Telemachus huffed, trying to push him off with little success. “only men I love.”

Antinous grinned wider, nudging Telemachus’s chin with his nose. “But you let me lay on you?”

Telemachus sighed dramatically, flopping his head back against the pillow in mock suffering. “Exactly.”

Antinous snorted, but there was something softer in his expression now, something real. He shifted just enough to meet Telemachus’s gaze properly, his grin fading into something quieter, something almost shy. “You really do, huh?”

Telemachus rolled his eyes. “Yes, Antinous, I really do. You literally just said it first.”

Antinous chuckled, the sound rumbling low in his chest. “Yeah,” he murmured, “I did, didn’t I?”

Thalina, who had been silent for a whole five seconds, shifted slightly against Telemachus’s stomach before sleepily mumbling, “You guys are so mushy.”

Antinous barked out a laugh, tilting his head to glance at her. “You’re one to talk, Miss ‘I Will Curse Your Enemies for Hurting Your Feelings.’”

Thalina blinked blearily, then yawned. “That’s just love,” she said simply, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

Antinous and Telemachus exchanged a glance.

Telemachus was the first to smile, soft and fond. “Yeah,” he murmured, trailing his fingers through Antinous curls. “I guess it is.”

Antinous, still half lounging across him, hummed in agreement, his own fingers idly tracing over Telemachus’s arm. The room fell into a comfortable quiet, the three of them tangled together on the bed, the flickering lamplight casting long shadows across the walls.

For the first time in a long time, Antinous felt like he was exactly where he was supposed to be.
Then the door burst open.

Chapter Text

The door slammed open so forcefully that even Thalina who had been happily curled up on Telemachus’s stomach let out a startled little squeak. Telemachus barely had time to react placing a comforting hand on her back, before an absolutely livid Menelaus stormed into the room, his face a rather alarming shade of red.

Right behind him, Odysseus strolled in at a much more relaxed pace, arms crossed, looking more amused than anything.
Menelaus’s gaze immediately locked onto Antinous with the sheer intensity of a warlord hunting down a fugitive.
“YOU!” he thundered, jabbing a finger at Antinous like he was about to smite him on the spot.

Antinous, still comfortably sprawled halfway across Telemachus like he had not just been caught committing what some might consider a war crime, barely lifted his head. He blinked once, then grinned.

“Me!” he said cheerfully, as though Menelaus had just announced him as the winner of a grand competition rather than the target of his wrath.

“Yes, you!” Menelaus snapped, taking a threatening step forward, his fists clenched at his sides. “You stole our flag!”

Telemachus, who had up until this point been lying contentedly under the combined weight of Antinous and Thalina, raised an eyebrow. “Isn’t that the entire point of the game?” he asked, voice deliberately slow, as if speaking to a particularly dim child.

Odysseus sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “You stole it while we were on a time out to eat,” he said, sounding far too tired for someone who had likely encouraged this kind of behavior in his youth.

Antinous, rather than looking the least bit guilty, hummed as he lazily inspected his fingernails. The motion, so smug, so Odysseus like, made Menelaus bristle even further.

“We,” Antinous said slowly, still pretending to search for imaginary dirt under his nails, “didn’t steal anything.”
Menelaus scoffed. “Oh, really?”

Antinous finally looked up, meeting his glare with an infuriatingly calm expression. He tilted his head slightly, smirking.

“We were given it.”

There was a beat of silence.

Odysseus turned to Menelaus with a flat look. “I told you.”

Menelaus ignored him entirely, eyes narrowing suspiciously at Antinous. “By who?”

Antinous grinned even wider, his expression so utterly self satisfied that it bordered on evil. He held up the flag in question, waving it once for dramatic effect before saying, “Eurycleia.”

Telemachus, who had been trying to keep a straight face, immediately clapped a hand over his mouth to smother his laughter.

Menelaus blinked. “What?”

“ Odysseus’s maid,” Antinous repeated slowly, as if explaining to someone very, very stupid. Menelaus rolls his eyes and said “I know who she is!” But Antinous wasn’t done “She handed it right over to me. Said something about Menelaus being a bad influence on Odysseus”

Odysseus let out an undignified snort.

Menelaus, looking utterly betrayed, opened and closed his mouth several times before finally spluttering, “I..what?! I AM NOT A BAD INFLUENCE!”

Odysseus, still chuckling, clapped a hand on his shoulder. “That’s exactly what a bad influence would say.”

Menelaus turned on him, outraged. “I learned it from you!”

Antinous, still lounging across Telemachus’s chest like a very smug cat, propped himself up on one elbow. “So does this mean we get to keep the flag?” he asked innocently.

Menelaus groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “You’re all terrible.”

Thalina, who had been watching the entire exchange with wide, fascinated eyes, perked up, her ears practically buzzing with excitement. “Does that mean we win?”

Odysseus sighed again, longsuffering, but there was a hint of amusement in his eyes. “I suppose it does.”

Antinous, triumphant, threw an arm around Telemachus, grinning down at him. “See? I told you I’d win us this stupid game.”

Telemachus, amused, hummed. “And you said you weren’t trying to impress me.”

Antinous clicked his tongue. “I’m always trying to impress you, little wolf.”

Menelaus made a noise of pure disgust. “You two are unbearable.”

Thalina, completely unbothered, simply nodded. “They really are.”

Chapter Text

Odysseus and Menelaus were already halfway out the door when Antinous abruptly sat up, peeling himself away from Telemachus’s chest. He swallowed, feeling the sweat on his palms as he rubbed them against his tunic. His heart was beating too fast, but he pushed himself to his feet anyway, clearing his throat.

“Odysseus.”

The older man turned, eyebrows raised in mild curiosity. “Yeah?”

Antinous hesitated only for a second before squaring his shoulders and walking over to him. He looked him straight in the eye, forced his voice to stay even, and declared,

“I plan to marry your son.”

There was a beat of silence.

Odysseus’s eyebrows rose even higher, and for a split second, Antinous felt a flicker of panic. Had he overdone it? Was this too bold? But then

Odysseus smiled.

Not just any smile one of those knowing, mischievous grins that meant he knew something you didn’t a smile that antinous in the month and a half of personally knowing the king knew it wasn’t bad but it was something to be weary of.

“I know.”

Antinous blinked. His stomach did an entire flip. “What do you mean, ‘I know’?” he asked, his voice just a touch higher than usual. Then, narrowing his eyes, he mockingly imitated Odysseus’s deep, drawling tone. “I know.” He scoffed. “I literally just decided that right now!”

Menelaus, who had been barely holding himself together, let out a loud, wheezing laugh, doubling over with his hands on his knees. Through his cackling, he managed to gasp, “I knew too!”

Antinous whipped around. “You too?!”

Behind him, Telemachus sat up, staring at them all like they had just started speaking another language. “Wait, am I the only one who didn’t know?!”

Odysseus shot him a bemused look. “I don’t know how you don’t know.” He paused for effect, tilting his head slightly. Then, with the air of someone about to prove a point, he asked, “What’s Antinous’s favorite food?”

Telemachus didn’t even hesitate. “Apples.”

Antinous grinned, unable to help himself.

Odysseus smirked. He made a lazy throwing gesture, an easy flick of his wrist.

Telemachus frowned. “What the” He cut himself off mid sentence.

His expression shifted.

Slowly, slowly, he turned his head to look at Antinous.

Antinous, looking far too pleased, leaned in close, eyes glinting with amusement. “You proposed to me and didn’t even know it,” he murmured, voice low and teasing. “I’m hurt.”

Telemachus’s mouth fell open. “We’ve been engaged for a month and a half?!”

Chapter Text

Telemachus, still mentally somewhere between baffled and horrified, turned slowly to his father. “Who all knows?”

Odysseus hummed, scratching his chin as if the question required deep philosophical contemplation. “Well, there’s me, your mother, Menelaus, Helen” He paused, squinting at the ceiling as if consulting the gods themselves before snapping his fingers. “Oh! And all the guests.”

Telemachus nearly choked. “All the guests know I’m engaged to Antinous?!”

Menelaus, still grinning from the whole ordeal, held up a hand. “Actually, they just know you’re engaged.” He tilted his head slightly, his expression far too amused. “They don’t know to who.”
There was a beat of silence.
Then..
Antinous’s grin stretched slow and sharp across his face, the kind of grin that sent a chill down Telemachus’s spine because he had seen it before.

Menelaus, still attuned to decades of Odysseus induced nonsense, immediately sobered. His amusement faltered, replaced by deep, bone weary dread. He had seen that exact expression before on Odysseus, right before they did something stupid.

“Oh, no,” Menelaus muttered, eyes narrowing in suspicion.

Antinous turned to Telemachus with that same glint in his eye, his voice dropping into a sing song lilt. “Little wolf.”

A shiver ran down Telemachus’s arms. He tensed, immediately wary. “Yes, Antinous?”

The grin widened, teeth flashing. “We have an opportunity to do something very funny here…”

Before Telemachus could react, a small head popped out from his hair.

“What?” Thalina piped up, blinking sas if she hadn’t just been dozing off in his curls like some kind of overgrown house cat.

Antinous, without missing a beat, plucked her up by the back of her collar with practiced ease. She let out a tiny eep! before he shifted her into the crook of his arm, where she immediately went boneless, limbs dangling lazily as she let herself be carried.

Antinous, entirely unbothered, poked a single finger at her little belly, making her squirm. “You see, my dear,” he said, his voice dropping into the kind of exaggerated, conspiratorial whisper that usually preceded trouble, “many of the kings downstairs believe themselves to be gods.”
Thalina’s golden eyes sparkled with intrigue. “And?”
Antinous’s grin turned downright wicked, the sharp edged amusement of a man who had just been given the perfect set up for chaos.
“So why don’t we test just how smart they really are…?”
There was a pause.
A long pause.
Then Telemachus groaned, pressing his palms into his face. “Why do I feel like I’m going to regret this?”

Menelaus crossed his arms, sighing through his nose. “Because you will.”

Odysseus, on the other hand, had the audacity to look interested. He tilted his head, his own smirk creeping in at the edges. “I have to admit, I’m a little curious to see where he’s going with this.”

Telemachus shot his father an unimpressed look. “Of course you are.”

Antinous ignored them all, still grinning as he gave Thalina a little bounce in his arms. “Come on, little one. Let’s go see just how perceptive our esteemed guests really are.”

Thalina, catching onto his excitement, perked up. “Ooooh! Are we playing a game?”

Antinous nodded, voice lilting. “Exactly.”
Telemachus let out another long suffering sigh but made no move to stop them. Menelaus putting a sympathetic hand on his shoulder, He already knew it was too late.
The chaos had already begun.

Chapter Text

As soon as the door shut behind them Menelaus having scooped up Thalina with ease despite her very vocal protests Antinous let out a dramatic sigh and flopped back onto the bed beside Telemachus.For a long moment, neither of them spoke. The muffled sounds of the palace buzzed beyond the door, but inside the room, it was quiet, save for the faint creak of the mattress beneath their weight.
Then, softly, Antinous said, “You know, you don’t have to go through with this if you don’t want to.”

Telemachus turned his head, blinking at him.

Antinous, still staring up at the ceiling, sighed again, rubbing a hand down his face before letting it fall onto his stomach. “You were just trying to give me my favorite snack, not propose.”

Telemachus exhaled through his nose, a quiet huff of something like amusement. Without a word, he reached over to his nightstand, where he kept a small bowl of apples because Antinous had an uncanny ability to get hungry at the most inconvenient times like the middle of the night, and Telemachus, knowing him far too well, had taken it upon himself to always be prepared.

He grabbed one and held it out.

Antinous turned his head slightly, his brows raising in curiosity. But after a second, a slow grin tugged at the corner of his mouth, and he reached out, fingers brushing against Telemachus’s as he took the apple.

Telemachus watched him for a moment, something soft in his expression. Then, finally, he said, “I would throw a million apples for a billion years if it meant being able to be your husband.”

Antinous, who had just taken a bite, promptly choked.

Telemachus barely had time to react before Antinous sat bolt upright, pounding a fist against his chest, eyes wide as he wheezed through a mouthful of apple. “The fuck!! Telemachus!”
Telemachus, alarmed but also entirely unapologetic, thumped him on the back. “Are you okay?”

Antinous swallowedbarely and then gaped at him. “No! You! you can’t just say shit like that with no warning!”

Telemachus blinked, confused. “I was just telling the truth.”

Antinous let out a strangled noise, dragging a hand down his face. “Do you want me to die? Is that what’s happening? You’re trying to kill me?”

Telemachus, now smiling, shook his head. “No, Antinous. I’m trying to marry you.”

Antinous, lips parted, looked at him for a long second. Then, very quietly, he muttered, “Oh.”

And just like that, he melted, flopping right back onto Telemachus’s chest with an exaggerated groan, the apple still clutched in his hand.

Telemachus chuckled, resting a hand on his back. “You okay?”

Antinous, muffled against his tunic, grumbled, “You’re very annoying, you know that?”

Telemachus hummed, fingers absently running through Antinous’s curls. “And yet, you’re still here.”

Antinous sighed dramatically, nuzzling closer. “Yeah,” he muttered, lips curling slightly against the fabric. “I am.”
Telemachus rolled his eyes fondly. “And you’re going to stay?”

Antinous lifted his head just enough to meet his gaze. His grin had softened, something deeper behind it now, something real. He studied Telemachus for a moment, as if committing every detail of him to memory.

Then, with a quiet laugh, he murmured, “For as long as you’ll have me.”

And before Telemachus could respond, Antinous leaned in, pressing their lips together in a kiss that was somehow both utterly infuriating and completely perfect like him.

Telemachus, caught off guard for only a second, let out a small, breathless laugh against his lips before tangling a hand in his hair and pulling him closer.
The apple, long forgotten, rolled off the bed and hit the floor with a soft thud.

Chapter Text

When they finally pulled apart, both a little breathless, Antinous was the first to break the silence. He grinned wide and smug, eyes twinkling with mischief before saying, “You know…..you kinda suck at that.”

Telemachus, still slightly dazed, blinked at him before the words actually registered. His expression instantly morphed into one of sheer offense. “Excuse me?”

Antinous, ever the menace, leaned back on his elbows, looking entirely too pleased with himself. “I’m just saying, for a first kiss, that was well, I mean, it was cute”

Telemachus smacked him across the chest before he could finish that thought. “Well, sorry I don’t go around kissing people to get better at it!” He huffed, crossing his arms, “Not all of us are whores.”

Antinous gasped, clutching his chest as if Telemachus had just run him through with a sword. “Whore?! You are calling your future husband a whore?!”

Telemachus rolled his eyes, unimpressed by the dramatics. “If the sandal fits.”

Antinous let out a very exaggerated groan before dramatically flopping onto the bed like he had just suffered a fatal wound. “Gods, I can’t believe this. First, you propose to me without even realizing it, and now, on the very same day it has come to light, you insult my honor? My virtue?”

Telemachus, still unimpressed, simply shot him a look. “Virtue? You?”

Antinous turned his head slightly, peeking at him from the corner of his eye with a sly grin. “What? You don’t think I’m virtuous?”

Telemachus raised an eyebrow. “No.”

Antinous tsked, shaking his head as if he were deeply disappointed. “Wow. You don’t know me at all, little prince.”

Telemachus snorted. “I know enough.”

Antinous suddenly propped himself up on one elbow, wagging a finger in Telemachus’s direction. “Listen, I’ll have you know, I am very virtuous.”

Telemachus gave him a flat look. “Are you?”

Antinous hesitated. “Okay, maybe not virtuous but I am extremely discerning about who I allow to kiss me.”

Telemachus narrowed his eyes, tilting his head slightly. “Oh? Really? So what? I’m the only one?”

Antinous smirked, tapping a finger against his chin as if in deep thought. “Mmm… not quite.”

Telemachus’s eyes narrowed further.

Antinous grinned wider, the picture of mischief. “But you are my favorite.”

Telemachus groaned, his patience officially running out. Before Antinous could react, he shoved him right off the bed.

Antinous yelped as he hit the floor with an exaggerated oof, followed by a thud and a very indignant, “Rude!”

Telemachus, ignoring the protests, simply leaned over the edge of the bed and peered down at him, looking far too pleased with himself. “Sorry, my hand slipped.”

Antinous, sprawled dramatically across the floor, stared up at him, unimpressed. “You just agreed to marry me, and already you’re committing acts of violence?”

Telemachus shrugged. “Consider it retribution for that terrible review of my kissing skills.”

Antinous sighed heavily, rubbing his chest like he’d actually been wounded. “I should have known. I fall in love with a brute.”

Telemachus smirked. “And yet, here you are, still in love with me.”

Antinous stared at him for a moment before sighing dramatically. “Yeah, yeah, I am.”

Then, with absolutely no warning, he grabbed Telemachus’s wrist and yanked pulling him right off the bed.

Telemachus yelped as he tumbled down, landing right on top of Antinous, their chests pressing together. There was a brief moment of silence as they both processed what had just happened.

Then Antinous grinned. “See? I knew you wanted to be closer to me.”

Telemachus groaned against his shoulder. “I hate you.”

Antinous chuckled, pressing a kiss against Telemachus’s temple. “No, you don’t.”

Telemachus sighed, still half on top of him. “No, I don’t.”

Chapter Text

Antinous hummed in satisfaction, tightening his grip around Telemachus’s waist to keep him exactly where he was. “See? We’re making progress. First, you propose to me, and now, you’re finally open with your feelings. At this rate, we’ll be married by sundown.”
Telemachus let out a muffled groan, face still buried in Antinous’s shoulder. “That’s not how marriage works.”
Antinous tapped his chin thoughtfully. “Maybe not in Ithaca, but”
Telemachus abruptly pushed himself up, propping his arms on either side of Antinous’s head, eyes narrowed with suspicion. “No. Stop right there. I am not marrying you under the laws of whatever ridiculous place you’re about to name.”
Antinous gasped in mock offense, pressing a hand dramatically to his chest. “Ridiculous? I was going to say Sparta! Do you know how easy it is to get married in Sparta? All I have to do is carry you off and Fu…Telemachus immediately shoved a hand over his mouth. “Absolutely not.”
Antinous never one to be shut up, licked his palm.
Telemachus yelped, recoiling like he’d been struck, scrambling backward so fast he nearly tumbled off the bed. “YOU’RE DISGUSTING!”

Antinous cackled, lounging back on the pillows, far too pleased with himself. “And yet, you’re still going to marry me.”

Telemachus glared at him, furiously wiping his hand on his tunic like it might erase the offense. “You are so lucky I like you.”
Antinous smirked, entirely unrepentant. “I am, aren’t I?”
Telemachus huffed, crossing his arms. “I should just call off the engagement.”
Antinous gasped, clutching his chest like he’d just been struck by lightning. “You wouldn’t.”
“I might.”
“You won’t.”
Telemachus sighed, dramatic and longsuffering. “No, I won’t.”
Antinous grinned, triumphant giving his cheek a peck “That’s my little wolf.”
Telemachus groaned, already regretting all of his life choices climbed back up onto the bed. He flopped back onto the pillows, draping an arm over his face as if the weight of the world rested upon his shoulders. “I can’t believe this. I, Telemachus of Ithaca, son of Odysseus, have become engaged entirely by accident, and my socalled fiancé is the most irritating man alive.”
Antinous leaned over him, resting his chin on Telemachus’s chest. “Oh? You think I’m the most irritating? Not Menelaus? Not that guy from Crete who keeps calling you ‘boy’ like you’re five?”
Telemachus hesitated. “Okay, second most irritating.”
Antinous grinned, far too pleased with himself. “I’ll take it.”
A moment of silence stretched between them, the laughter settling into something quieter, something mischievous.

Telemachus turned his head toward Antinous, his brow raising slightly. “Sohow are we going to embarrass the other kings?”

Antinous’s grin sharpened, something devilish flashing in his eyes. “Oh, I have so many ideas.”
Telemachus sighed, already bracing himself. “Of course you do.”
Antinous shifted, propping himself up on one elbow. “You don’t even know the half of it, little wolf.”
Telemachus pinched the bridge of his nose. “I’m going to regret this.”
Antinous patted his thigh reassuringly. “Not as much as they will.”

And then, before Telemachus could process it, Antinous was sliding lower, his hands smoothing over his thighs as he pressed a lingering kiss against the inside of one.

Telemachus’s breath hitched, fingers twitching against the sheets. “What?!” He barely got the word out before Antinous bit down just enough to leave a mark, his lips following with a slow, deliberate kiss.

Telemachus jolted, gripping the sheets like a lifeline. “What are you doing?”

Antinous smirked against his skin, dragging his mouth higher as he pressed another mark into the sensitive flesh. “Claiming what’s mine.”
Telemachus swallowed hard, trying to ignore the warmth spreading across his skin. “That’s!” He cut himself off with a sharp inhale as Antinous sucked another bruise into his thigh, his fingers lightly trailing over the fresh mark.

“You bruise so easily,” Antinous mused, sounding far too pleased as he lifted Telemachus’s chiton just enough to expose more of his thigh, “It’s cute.”
Telemachus made a strangled sound, torn between mortification and something dangerously close to enjoyment. “You are insufferable.”

Antinous hummed, dragging his lips across Telemachus’s skin before leaving another dark hickey just beside the last. “And yet, you’re still going to marry me.”

Telemachus let his head fall back against the pillows, his breath uneven. “I really hate you.”

Antinous only chuckled, pressing one last kiss to his thigh and a quick lick of the mark he had left before pulling back, his smirk nothing short of victorious. “Sure you do, little wolf.”

Chapter Text

Antinous was still grinning, fingers idly brushing over the fresh bruises he’d left on Telemachus’s thighs, admiring his handiwork. “I was right you know little wolf you do look good bruised up.”
Telemachus, who had been trying to regulate his breathing, immediately covered his face with his hands. “You do realize we have to go downstairs and face all the kings, right? What if someone notices?”
Antinous hummed, clearly unbothered as he traced one of the darker marks with the tip of his finger. “Then they’ll know you belong to me but my dear little wolf” and with a sinister look he then continued “ and besides I’d sure hope you aren’t letting anyone else see that far up your thighs that isn’t me.”

Telemachus groaned, throwing an arm over his face before pointing downward, gesturing toward the very apparent issue pressing against his chiton. “That is not helpful, Antinous!”

Antinous’s gaze flicked lower, and his grin widened, slow and wicked. “Oh? That?” He leaned in, voice dropping into a teasing, velvety purr. “Well, I could take care of it for you…”
Telemachus yanked a pillow over his face and one over his crotch crotch and letting out a shrill “I don’t want to talk to you right now!”

Antinous chuckled, reaching out to tug the pillow away. “Suit yourself, little wolf. No need to ack like a boy who got his first boner.” He paused and looked Telemachus over and with a wicked grin he continued “Although it actually might be”

Telemachus shot up so fast he nearly headbutted him. “I hate you.” Antinous patted his thigh with an infuriating smirk. “I know.”

Still grinning, he stretched lazily before turning toward the door, rolling his shoulders as if this had all been a casual conversation. He had barely taken a step when something slammed into his back with enough force to make him lurch forward.

Telemachus had launched himself at him, his arms locking around his shoulders, his legs coiling around his waist like he’d done this a hundred times before.

Antinous stumbled forward, his hands flying out to steady himself against the wall. “What the?!”

Before he could react, Telemachus yanked down the fabric of his toga over his shoulder, baring his teeth when, without a second of hesitation, sank his teeth into the firm muscle.

Antinous let out a strangled, completely undignified noise that was neither a yelp nor a growl but something caught in between. His whole body jerked in surprise. “Are you BITING me?!”
Telemachus didn’t answer. He just bit down harder.

Antinous flailed, knocking over a table in his frantic attempt to shake him off. “What the actual fu…?! TELEMACHUS have you lost your mind?!”

Telemachus only let go when he was satisfied, pulling back with a soft pop, then because apparently, he had decided that revenge was fair play he dragged his tongue slowly over the fresh bite.

Antinous went stock still.

Telemachus leaned in, his breath hot against Antinous’s skin. His voice was dangerously quiet. “Claiming what’s mine.”
For the fifth time since Telemachus had known him, the ever smug, always in control Antinous was utterly speechless.

Telemachus smirked against his shoulder, voice dropping into something almost amused. “What’s wrong? You usually have so much to say.”

Antinous turned his head, staring at him like he had just grown two heads. His mouth opened then closed. Then opened again.

Nothing came out.

Telemachus grinned. “That’s what I thought.”

Then, with the same casual ease as a cat, he unhooked his arms and legs, shoving himself off Antinous’s back and landing lightly on his feet. He smoothed down his chiton, entirely composed, like he hadn’t just bitten a man twice his size and gotten away with it.

Antinous still hadn’t moved. He was standing completely still, one hand raised to his shoulder, gingerly touching the fresh bite like he wasn’t entirely sure what had just happened and bringing his hand back here saw little dots of blood .

Telemachus walked past him, heading for the door, but paused just as he reached it. He threw a glance over his shoulder, smirking and licking some of the blood from his canines.
“You coming?”
Antinous blinked. Once. Twice. Then, very slowly, a wide, utterly delighted grin stretched across his face. He let out a breathless laugh, shaking his head in pure disbelief.
“Oh, I am, in more ways than one.
And with that, he followed like the dog Athena always called him.

Chapter Text

As they walked through the long hallway, the torchlight cast shifting shadows on the polished marble floor now needed with the lowering sun light. The faint murmur of conversation and distant footsteps echoed through the palace, but Telemachus barely noticed. His focus was on the warmth at his side the mischievous presence that had been following him, teasing him, pushing his every button since the moment they met.
Antinous bored and ever the aggravator, reached out and hooked their pinkies together, a lazy smile playing at his lips.

His grip was light, barely there, but it sent a small jolt through Telemachus all the same.
Telemachus turned to him with a sharp look, though the corners of his mouth twitched. “Really?”
Antinous tilted his head innocently, his smile widening. “What? Can’t a man hold his beloved’s hand?”

“That’s not my hand,” Telemachus deadpanned, wiggling his trapped pinky.
Antinous gasped in mock offense. “Are you suggesting our love is not strong enough to be conveyed through a single finger?” He gave Telemachus a slight tug, forcing him to stumble a step closer. “You wound me, little wolf.”

Telemachus huffed, clearly trying not to smile as he stood on his toes and bumped his shoulder against Antinous’s in retaliation. “You’re lucky I’m in too good of a mood to fight you.”

“Oh?” Antinous’s smirk sharpened. “What’s put you in such a good mood? Could it be our engagement? Or perhaps or prior activities”

Telemachus groaned, rubbing his face with his free hand although Antinous could see the tips of his ears turn red. “We are not talking about that right now.”

Antinous chuckled, but the glint in his eyes told Telemachus that he absolutely planned to bring it up again at the first opportunity.
Telemachus, determined to shift the subject, sighed dramatically. “Who do you think they’re theorizing I’m engaged to?”
Antinous hummed, considering. “Well, my dear prince,” he began in an exaggerated voice, “you are a man of considerable status. A fine warrior, son of a legend, and let’s not forget, quite the catch with you being so handsome.”

Telemachus gave him a flat look. “You’re laying it on thick.”

Antinous ignored him, pressing on. “So naturally, the people must assume you are destined for a noble lady of great beauty and stature perhaps a princess, or even a goddess’s daughter, hidden away on some distant island.”

He then lowered his voice, leaning in slightly, his breath warm against Telemachus’s ear. “I doubt anyone is even speculating your gaining a husband not a wife”

Telemachus’s breath hitched just for a second before he quickly schooled his expression. He turned his head just enough to glare at Antinous, but the other man was already straightening, his smirk widening like he knew exactly what he’d just done.

Recovering, Telemachus asked “So what you’re saying is they’re in for quite the surprise?”

Antinous chuckled. “Oh, my love, surprised won’t even begin to cover it.”

Telemachus scoffed, shaking his head, but before he could say anything, Antinous suddenly tugged on his pinky again, forcing him to stumble even closer.

“Speaking of surprises,” Antinous continued, his grin taking on that dangerous, troublemaking edge. “Won’t it be fun to drag this out a little?”

Telemachus narrowed his eyes. “Define ‘fun.’”

Antinous grinned wider, holding their linked hands in front of them as if they were bound together and placing a kiss on his own hand. “Oh, you’ll see.”

Chapter Text

As they approached the larg door that led into the grand hall, Antinous and Telemachus finally separated their pinkies, though not without a final teasing squeeze from Antinous that made Telemachus shoot him a side eye. Antinous only smirked in response, as he pushed the large door open, completely unbothered as they strolled inside, side by side, like they hadn’t just been plotting mild chaos moments earlier.
The hall was already full, the long banquet table lined with kings and warriors deep in their cups, the flickering torchlight catching on golden goblets and plates piled high with food. The air buzzed with conversation and the occasional burst of laughter, but as the two slid into their seats, Antinous’s eyes immediately flicked toward a sulking Menelaus.

The Spartan king sat hunched over his goblet, his grip visibly tightening around the stem as his gaze darted toward Antinous. His lips pressed into a thin line, and the muscle in his jaw twitched.

Antinous, delighted, grinned at him.

Menelaus’s fingers whitened around his goblet.

Diomedes, ever the observant one, frowned at the odd exchange, glancing between them. “Alright, what happened?” he asked, setting down his drink.

Antinous turned to him, wearing a look that could only be described as I know something you don’t know, the corners of his lips curling just enough to be infuriating. He rested his chin on his hand and sighed, far too theatrically. “Oh, nothing,” he said airily, as if he weren’t practically vibrating with smug amusement.

That was when Odysseus finally cracked.

Laughter burst from him, sudden and unrestrained, his head tilting back as he slapped the table. The sound was loud enough to draw the attention of every king in the room, the conversations dying down as eyes turned toward him.

Menelaus groaned, already bracing for whatever was coming next.

Odysseus, still chuckling, wiped a hand over his face before shrugging. “Well,” he said, voice still laced with amusement, “now’s as good a time as any.”
With that, he pushed back his chair and stood, scanning the room as anticipation crackled through the air.
“We have a winner to our little game,” he announced, his voice carrying easily across the hall.

Circe, who was lounging at the far end of the table with Thalina perched happily in her lap, grinned at him, her fingers lazily twirling one of the nymph’s curls. “Oh?” she mused, tilting her head. “And who might that be?”
Odysseus’s face faltered for a brief moment before he gave her a pointed look. His voice dropped into a childish, singsong tone as he mimicked, “As if you don’t know.”
Circe, unbothered, merely smirked. Thalina giggled into her hands.

Odysseus sighed and turned back to the hall. “My son and my general,” he declared, gesturing toward Telemachus and Antinous, “in a truly sneaky move, managed to steal my own flag which means both Menelaus and I are out of the game.”
A few of the kings murmured at that, some looking impressed, others looking like they regretted underestimating the Ithacans.

Odysseus continued, “And, by taking both of ours, that puts them at a total of twenty eight flags the majority.”
He spread his arms in grand acknowledgment. “Which makes them the official winners of the game.”

There was a beat of silence.

Then Antinous, completely unashamed, threw his arms up in victory

Chapter Text

Antinous, still riding the high of victory slamming both hands down on the table as he declared, “That’s right we fucking won!”
A mix of groans, laughter, and exasperated sighs rippled through the hall. Some kings chuckled into their goblets, others rolled their eyes, unimpressed. Telemachusl although very pleased that his fiancée was so happy merely dragged a hand down his face like he was reconsidering every life choice that had brought him here.

The energy in the room was charged, the lingering excitement of the competition still thrumming beneath the surface. The scent of roasted meats and spiced wine mingled in the air, torches casting golden light against the polished stone walls. Goblets clinked, wine flowed, slightly slured toasts were exchanged
And yet, before anyone could respond to Antinous’s outburst, a new voice cut through the murmurs of conversation.

“I feel like I know you from somewhere.”

Antinous turned to see a man watching him intently. He was slightly older than Antinous, maybe twenty four or twenty five, with sharp, assessing eyes and black wavy hair that was beginning to curl slightly at the ends. There was something vaguely familiar about him, but Antinous couldn’t quite place it.

Antinous raised an eyebrow. “Do you?” he asked, leaning back slightly, his arms crossing over his chest.

The manNikolaios, if he remembered correctly nodded, studying him with the kind of focus that made Antinous feel like he was being measured and weighed.

“I don’t know where…” Antinous continued, watching him closely. “I’ve been in Ithaca pretty much my whole life.”

Nikolaios hummed, his gaze never leaving Antinous. “You wouldn’t have happened to go to Persia before, would you?”

Antinous’s eyes narrowed slightly, curiosity piqued, but before he could respond, Telemachus, who had been listening far too eagerly, jumped in with his usual enthusiasm.

“He has!” Telemachus said, grinning. “He’s half Persian, you know!”

Antinous rolled his eyes, exhaling sharply as he playfully shoved Telemachus away. “Little wolf, he doesn’t need to know my entire lineage,” he muttered.

But Nikolaios’s expression suddenly cleared with realization. He snapped his fingers, his face lighting up. “I knew it! That’s where I remember you from!”

Telemachus leaned forward, intrigued. “Where?”

Nikolaios grinned. “My grandmother ran a piercing shop! I used to help out when I was younger. I remember you now you came into the shop years ago you had a shit ton of sisters”

Antinous’s eyes narrowed slightly, his mind shifting through distant memories.

“You were the one who helped me ice my lip after I bit through it, weren’t you?” he asked, tilting his head.

Nikolaios grinned wider, nodding. “Yeah! You bit down too hard, bled everywhere. I swear, you had half the shop panicking.” He laughed at the memory before adding, “You were, what,four? I thought you were gonna pass out from all the blood.”

Antinous blinked, the memory surfacing in full. Then, with a slow smirk, he exhaled through his nose. “Well, shit. It is you, huh?”

He gave Nikolaios a quick once over before smirking. “You got less scrawny. Congrats and for your information I was five”

Nikolaios let out a breathy chuckle. “And you got louder.”

Antinous grinned. “It’s called charm, actually.”

Telemachus, watching the interaction with poorly concealed amusement, nudged Antinous with his elbow. “So what I’m hearing is, you’ve always been trouble?”

Antinous placed a hand over his heart in mock offense. “Little wolf. How dare you.”

Nikolaios snorted. “No, he’s right. You were definitely trouble.”

Antinous sighed dramatically, shaking his head. “I become a general and people still focus on the little things.”

Telemachus rolled his eyes. “Little things?”

Nikolaios smirked. “To be fair, you did bleed all over my grandmother’s floor.”

Antinous scoffed. “Listen, in my defense, no one told me not to bite down like my life depended on it. And cut me some slack a five year old isn’t just going to sit through that shit straight faced”

Telemachus’s laughter rang through the hall as Nikolaios shook his head.

“Well, it’s good to see you again,” Nikolaios said, nodding. “And it’s good to know you haven’t changed all that much.”

Antinous smirked. “I like to think I’ve only gotten better at being a menace.”

Nikolaios chuckled. Taking note of how antinous body language was to Telemachus “ Yeah. I can definitely see that.” The little reunion was then interrupted by an annoying voice.

“How did you steal Creon’s flag?”

The words came from King Kallion, a man who would appear in a dictionary next to the word mediocrity, he was not renown but possessed excessive self importance. He was not the most powerful ruler present, nor the most feared, but he carried himself with the kind of arrogance that suggested he believed otherwise. His thick brows furrowed as he studied Antinous, dark eyes sharp with skepticism, searching for cracks in his story.

Antinous, still grinning from his triumph, tilted his head slightly. “Why?” His tone was light almost challenging “Are you a friend of his?”

Kallion puffed out his chest, clearly taking pride in his answer. “Of course! Creon is a man of honor. Who wouldn’t be friends with him?”

The reaction was immediate.

Silence.

A thick, suffocating silence settled over the table like a funeral shroud. Some of the kings exchanged uneasy glances. Others suddenly found their drinks very interesting, fingers curling around goblets as if they wished they could disappear inside them. A few shifted uncomfortably in their seats, expressions tightening ever so slightly. Even the servants, who had been quietly weaving between the tables refilling drinks and clearing plates, slowed their movements, their ears pricking at the sudden shift in atmosphere.

Antinous exhaled sharply through his nose, an almost amused sound, though there was no humor in his expression.

Kallion’s lips curled, his irritation growing. “Something funny?”

Antinous let the silence stretch for just a second longer before finally responding, his voice low and casual. “No,” he said, a slow smirk creeping onto his lips. “I just wasn’t aware that men of honor try to fuck children.”

The hall shattered.

Gasps rang out from every corner of the room. Someone knocked over their goblet, spilling dark red wine across the table like freshly spilled blood. Another king coughed violently, choking on his drink, pounding a fist against his chest as he struggled to breathe. A few looked outright horrified, while others turned pale, their eyes darting toward Kallion as if gauging his reaction. Some pressed their lips together tightly, as though unwilling to speak the thoughts now racing through their minds.

Kallion’s face twisted with fury, his knuckles white against the goblet he clenched in his hand. Stood up and threw his goblet of wine at Antinous who mearly leaned to the side to avoid it “You are lying! You are a filthy man who has no business even being alive much less in the service of this royal family! he spat, his voice thunderous, echoing against the high stone walls.

The air in the room turned razor sharp, charged with the kind of tension that preceded either violence or retreat.

Antinous’s smirk vanished.

And then, with a sudden, violent movement, he slammed both hands onto the table, the impact so forceful that goblets rattled and silverware clattered against the polished wood. Telemachus could have sworn he heard a crack in the table which was impressive considering it was made of hornbeam wood. The torches lining the walls flickered, casting jagged shadows over his face.
“I am not a fucking liar!” he roared.

His voice thundered through the hall, raw with fury, a storm breaking loose in the middle of the gathering. Every muscle in his body was wound tight, his breath coming sharp and fast, nostrils flaring as he stared Kallion down with something feral in his eyes. His chest rose and fell heavily, his fingers flexing against the table’s surface as though barely restraining himself from lunging across it.

The entire room recoiled, the weight of his words suffocating, inescapable.Antinous suddenly spoke in lower tone. “Do you want to know what kind of a man I am?” There was a pause before he continued.
“I am selfish!” Antinous snarled, his voice laced with something dark and bitter. “I am cruel! And Oh let’s not forget vain!” He slammed a fist against his own chest, his voice unshaken, unrelenting, as if daring the world to challenge him. “But I am not a liar.”

Kallion’s lips parted, but no words came out.

The hall was silent, save for the distant crackling of torches. No one moved. No one dared to move.

The firelight cast long, flickering shadows over Antinous’s face, the angles of his jaw and cheekbones stark against the golden glow. His breath was ragged, his shoulders still heaving, his body taut like a bowstring drawn too tight. His fingers curled into fists, nails digging into his palms hard enough to leave crescent-shaped marks in his skin.

And Kallion so arrogant, so quick to anger only moments ago hesitated.

A bead of sweat rolled down his temple. His grip on his goblet tightened, the metal trembling ever so slightly in his hand. His eyes darted around the room, as if searching for someone to step in, to change the subject, to release him from the suffocating weight of Antinous’s fury.

But no one spoke.

No one saved him.

The silence stretched, thick and heavy, the unspoken truth settling over the gathering like a brand seared into flesh. There was no easy way out of this. No clever retort that could erase the weight of what had been said.

Antinous had named the monster lurking beneath the surface. And now, there was no pretending it did not exist.

Chapter Text

Despite Antinous’s outburst, despite what he had just said about Creon, the other kings weren’t speaking up. They weren’t condemning Creon.They weren’t condemning Kallion.
They were just…sitting there. Avoiding his gaze. Looking uncomfortable, but not speaking.

Antinous’s jaw tightened, his hands curling into fists at his sides. He could feel the heat rising in his chest, frustration bubbling up like boiling water.

These were kings. These were rulers, men who claimed to have honor, who claimed to be just. And yet, none of them were willing to stand up and say what needed to be said.

He let out a sharp huff, shaking his head in pure disgust.

Then, without another word, he turned on his heel and walked away.

The sound of his sandals against the marble floor echoed through the hall as he stormed toward the exit, his wolf pelt swishing behind him with every step.
He barely made it halfway before he heard the soft pat, pat, pat of small feet running after him.

Thalina.

She had crawled off Circe’s lap the moment he moved, scampering after him without hesitation, her tiny hands gripping at his chiton as she kept pace.

And, predictably, Telemachus was right behind her, following with quick strides, his expression set in something between concern and determination.
Antinous didn’t stop, didn’t even look back until he reached the doors of the hall.

And then, just before stepping out, he did pause.

He turned slightly, glancing over his shoulder. His gaze locked onto Circe, who was watching him with an unreadable expression, her fingers still idly tracing patterns along the stem of her goblet.

His voice, when he spoke, was sharp. Pointed.
“You might want to ask some of your older nymphs about Creon,” he said, his words carrying through the hall. His expression was unreadable, but his eyes were deadly serious. “I’m sure you’ll find some interesting answers.”
A shift.
A flicker of something in Circe’s eyes.

A tightening of her grip around the goblet.

Antinous didn’t wait for a response.

With that, he turned and strode out the doors, the weight of the hall left behind him.

Antinous walked quickly, each step hard against the marble floors as he stormed down the hallway. His frustration burned inside him like a hot coal, smoldering in his chest, refusing to cool. The way the other kings had just sat there, their silence as bad as them agreeing with creon and he couldn’t stand it. He needed out. He needed air, space, something that wasn’t this palace full of men too cowardly to do what was right.

Behind him, Telemachus followed, his pace quicker than usual as he tried to keep up, cradling Thalina in his arms. The little nymph had started out running beside them, but her tiny legs had struggled against Antinous’s furious strides, and Telemachus had scooped her up without a second thought. Now she clung to him, golden eyes peering at Antinous, ears twitching quickly as she watched Antinous with a quiet sort of worry.

Neither of them spoke.

The only sounds in the hall were their footsteps and the distant crackling of torches lining the walls.

When they reached Telemachus’s chambers, now their chambers Antinous didn’t hesitate.

He strode straight to the chest at the foot of the bed, yanking it open and grabbing a sack. Without ceremony, he began stuffing clothes inside, his movements sharp and restless, as if the very act of staying still would suffocate him.

Telemachus lingered near the doorway, shifting Thalina slightly in his grip as he watched. His mouth opened once, then shut. He hesitated.

Antinous didn’t look at him, didn’t acknowledge his presence at all as he continued packing.

Finally, Telemachus cleared his throat, his voice cautious but steady.

“Where are you going?”

Antinous didn’t stop what he was doing, but his jaw tightened. “To my sister’s house,” he muttered. “I need a break.”

A break.

Telemachus’s stomach twisted.

He knew Antinous was angry furious even
but the idea of him leaving, of him disappearing into the night without another word, without Telemachus by his side, settled like a heavy weight in his chest.

Antinous finished tying the bag shut and turned to leave, stepping toward the door without looking up.

Telemachus blocked the doorway.

Antinous barely had time to register what was happening before Telemachus pressed something into his arms.

“Hold her,” Telemachus said simply, his voice quiet but firm.

Antinous instinctively caught Thalina as she was placed against his chest, his arms tightening around her small frame. She curled up against him without hesitation, snuggling into his warmth as if this were the most natural thing in the world.

Antinous blinked. “What?”

“Let me pack my bag,” Telemachus interrupted, already turning toward his own chest of belongings.

Antinous stared after him, brows furrowing. “Why?”

Telemachus didn’t answer right away. He paused, fingers resting on the fabric of his chiton, before finally turning back around to face him.

His expression was unreadable, but his voice was steady.
“Because you are mine,” Telemachus said, meeting his eyes without hesitation. “Where you go, so do I.”

Antinous stood frozen, the weight of Thalina warm against his chest, her tiny hands clutching at the fabric of his tunic.
For the first time since leaving the grand hall, the tight, burning frustration in his chest eased just slightly.
He didn’t say anything.
Didn’t argue.
Didn’t tell Telemachus he didn’t need to come.
Because, deep down, he knew that of course Telemachus would come.
Because it had never been a question.

Chapter Text

With their bags packed, Antinous and Telemachus made their way through the halls, Thalina still nestled comfortably in Antinous’s arms. She had long since relaxed against him, her tiny hands gripping onto his tunic, her head resting against his shoulder. Telemachus walked beside him, his own bag slung over his shoulder, his pace steady but quieter than usual.

They had almost reached the exit when they turned a corner and nearly collided with Penelope and Odysseus.

Telemachus faltered for a fraction of a second, his fingers tightening around the strap of his bag as he immediately looked away.

Antinous, on the other hand, remained perfectly unbothered. Without missing a beat, he adjusted Thalina slightly in his grip and spoke casually.

“We’ll be back in a week,” he said. “We’re visiting my sister’s house.”

Odysseus studied them for a moment, taking in the bags, the expressions, the way Telemachus’s gaze remained fixed on the floor. He gave a slow nod, crossing his arms over his chest. “Alright.” He didn’t press them for more details, didn’t ask any questions. If anything, he almost looked proud.

Penelope, on the other hand, stepped forward without hesitation.

She reached out, wrapping Antinous in a warm, firm hug. It caught him slightly off guard, but he didn’t pull away, letting her squeeze him tightly before she stepped back.

Then she turned to Telemachus.
Unlike with Antinous, she didn’t hesitate for even a second. She pulled him into her arms, holding him close, her fingers curling into the fabric of his chiton like she was memorizing the feel of him. Telemachus let out a soft breath, his arms coming up to return the embrace.

When she finally released him, she turned to Thalina, who blinked sleepily up at her. With a soft smile, Penelope pressed a gentle kiss to the top of the little nymph’s head before giving her feet a playful tickle. Thalina let out a quiet giggle, wiggling in Antinous’s arms.
Stepping back, Penelope met their gazes once more. “Be safe,” she said simply, her voice warm but firm.

Telemachus nodded, his grip on his bag finally loosening.

Antinous smirked slightly, adjusting his hold on Thalina. “We always are.”

Odysseus snorted at that but said nothing.

With that, Antinous and Telemachus turned, heading for the exit.

Penelope and Odysseus stood watching them go, the flickering torchlight casting long shadows as they disappeared into the night.

A heavy silence settled over the hallway.

Penelope and Odysseus stood there for a moment, staring at the now empty space where their son and his general had just been.

And then, without warning, Odysseus let out a sharp, gasping breath his shoulders trembling.

Penelope barely had time to react before he broke.

A choked sob tore from his throat as he staggered forward, clutching at her, his hands gripping desperately at her arms. His knees buckled, and before he could crumple to the floor, Penelope caught him.

“Oh, love,” she murmured softly, steadying him. Without hesitation, she lifted him easily like he weighed nothing.

Odysseus let out a strangled noise, burying his face into her shoulder as his arms wrapped tightly around her neck. His legs instinctively curled around her waist, clinging to her like a child.

“I don’t want to lose my son,” he sobbed, his fingers clutching at her hair. “I don’t want to lose him AGAIN!”

Penelope stroked his back, murmuring soft, soothing words as she carried him toward their room.

“There, there, my wanderer,” she whispered, pressing a kiss to the side of his head. “It’s just for a week. Think of it like a pre-honeymoon.”

She nudged the door open with her foot, stepping inside.

Odysseus wailed.

“My baby is going to have sexxxxx!” he cried, his voice muffled against her shoulder.

Penelope chuckled, shutting the door behind them. “Eventually,” she admitted, rubbing slow circles against his back. “But I don’t think that’ll be the case for this trip.”

Odysseus sniffled, lifting his head just enough to squint at her through teary, red rimmed eyes. “You don’t?”

She shook her head. “They’re just going to his sister’s house. I’ve met her a he’s very nice.”

Odysseus hiccuped, still clearly distressed. “ But what if she encourages them to stay!?”

Penelope smiled, pressing another kiss to his temple. “Then we’ll deal with that if it happens.”

Odysseus groaned, flopping dramatically against her, his limbs going slack. “I hate this.”

Penelope hummed in amusement, effortlessly carrying him toward the bed. “ you will be alright,” she corrected, her voice filled with fondness.

Odysseus just let out another dramatic sob.
Before finally falling asleep and into the field of dreams.

Chapter Text

The warmth of the fire flickered gently against Odysseus’s face, casting soft shadows along the ground. The scent of burning wood and salt lingered in the air, familiar and comforting, like a distant memory he had almost forgotten.
And then he saw him.

Polites sat cross legged beside the fire, tending to the flames with practiced ease, his expression calm, serene. His dark curls were still as unruly as ever, his sharp eyes softened with quiet amusement. And his glasses resting on the bridge of his nose.He looked exactly as he had the last time Odysseus had seen him young, strong, alive.
As if sensing his presence, Polites glanced up, his face breaking into a warm smile. “You got older,” he greeted casually, as if it had only been a few days instead of years, decades since they had last spoken.

Odysseus let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding, stepping forward, his sandals making no sound against the earth. He smiled, but it was tinged with sorrow. “And you are exactly as I remember you.”

Polites tilted his head slightly, his smile never faltering. He reached out, tossing another small log into the fire, the embers sparking up briefly before settling into a steady burn.

Odysseus hesitated, his hands curling slightly at his sides. His throat felt tight, his chest heavier than it should have been.

“I can’t quite remember your voice,” he admitted, his voice almost a whisper.

Polites blinked, his expression unreadable for a moment. Then, slowly, he exhaled, nodding in understanding. “That’s alright,” he murmured. “I still remember yours.”

The fire crackled softly between them, filling the silence that stretched in its wake.

Odysseus swallowed hard, his fingers twitching at his sides. He wanted to say more to say everything. To tell Polites he was sorry. To tell him that he thought about him, about all of them, every single day. That he still saw their faces when he closed his eyes, that their laughter haunted the spaces between his dreams.

But Polites simply patted the ground beside him, an invitation.

“Sit with me,” he said, his voice gentle.

And so, with a slow breath, Odysseus did.
“How’s life?”

Odysseus exhaled slowly, his gaze fixed on the fire as it crackled and shifted before him. “I made it home. My son is a man now,” he murmured, the words almost foreign on his tongue. “A real man. Strong, stubborn. Stupidly brave.”

Polites chuckled. “Sounds familiar.”

Odysseus let out a soft laugh, shaking his head. “He’s better than me.” His fingers absently traced patterns in the dirt. “He’s getting married soon.”

Polites’s brows lifted, intrigued. “Oh? To who?”

A small, knowing smile tugged at the corner of Odysseus’s lips. “My general,his best friend.”

Polites let out a surprised laugh. “Ah, so he’s smart, then.”

Odysseus chuckled, shaking his head. “Smarter than I ever was. He actually gets to have the one he loves without war, without running, without” His voice faltered for a second before he sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. “Without all the things that took so much from us.”

Polites studied him quietly for a moment before he smiled, slow and knowing. “You know,” he said, leaning back on his hands, “if you hadn’t met Penelope, I would have married you.”

Odysseus snorted, rolling his eyes. “You don’t mean that.”

Polites raised a brow. “I do.”

Odysseus scoffed, shaking his head. “Come on, Polites.”

Polites didn’t waver. “Odysseus, I know you think you’re unlovable because of the things you did to get home. But you aren’t.”

Odysseus froze, his fingers stilling in the dirt.

Polites’s voice remained steady, unwavering. “I love you,” he said simply. “Penelope loves you so much she waited twenty years. Your son adores you, and he barely even knows you. Menelaus loves you and even had a crush on you when we were teens he got his first boner around you and was so confused why it was for you and not your sister, And Circe?” He laughed softly, shaking his head. “She loves you like a brother.”

Odysseus swallowed hard, staring into the fire because he had not been aware that his friend had been watching him.

“We all love you,” Polites continued, his voice softer now. “Not because of what you’ve done. Not because of the choices you had to make. We love you because of who you are.”

Odysseus’s throat tightened, something sharp and painful lodging in his chest. His hands curled into fists.

Polites exhaled, watching him. “And I know you think I blame you for my death.”

Odysseus flinched.

“But if it was between you and me, I’d choose to die a million times over so you could get home.”

Odysseus let out a shaky breath, his shoulders trembling. “Polites”

“You deserved to go home.” Polites smiled, gentle and warm. “And you deserved to be loved when you got there.”

Odysseus squeezed his eyes shut, a choked sound escaping him.

Polites just sat there, patient as ever, waiting.

And for the first time in a long, long time, Odysseus allowed himself to believe him.

Odysseus let out a long breath, running a hand through his hair before glancing at Polites. “So,” he said, voice lighter now, “how’s the afterlife treating you?”

Polites hesitated for just a second, and Odysseus caught it just a flicker of something unreadable in his expression before he smoothed it over with a small smile. “It’s nice,” he said. “I made a friend.”

Odysseus raised a brow, amused. “Anyone I know?”

Polites chuckled. “I think you two fought once or twice.”

Odysseus groaned. “Ah, so a Trojan.”

Polites nodded, grinning. “Yeah. Prince Hector.”

Odysseus blinked. Then winced. “Oh.”

Polites huffed a laugh, shaking his head. “He knows you’re sorry.”

Odysseus sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. “Not that it changes anything.”

“No,” Polites admitted. “But it matters.”

Odysseus glanced at him, curious now. “How did you two even get to talking?”

Polites smiled, leaning his chin in his palm. “I saw a cute baby and I wanted to hold it.”

Odysseus blinked. “That’s it?”

Polites shrugged. “Took me twenty years, but I finally got to a few weeks ago.”

Odysseus groaned again, pinching the bridge of his nose. “You mean to tell me you befriended Hector because you wanted to hold his dead son?”

Polites tilted his head innocently. “He is just so adorable.” Odysseus tilted his head wondering if polites was talking about the baby or hector.

Odysseus exhaled sharply, shaking his head before hesitating. “What about his wife? I thought we… I thought she” He grimaced. “I thought we killed her, too.”

Polites shook his head. “She got released. Married some other guy, had some more kids. So she’s no longer his wife.”

At that, Odysseus’s expression shifted, the mischief flickering back into his eyes. He wiggled his eyebrows. “Are you his wife?”

Polites let out an incredulous laugh, shoving at his shoulder. “No, I am not his wife.”

Odysseus grinned, unrepentant. “But you would be, wouldn’t you?”

Polites gave him a long, unimpressed look before sighing dramatically. “He is handsome and I would have made such a good princess don’t you think? he admitted with a chuckle

Odysseus cackled, leaning back on his hands. “Gods, if only the war had ended differently. You could’ve been a Trojan princess i mean you are pretty enough”

Polites rolled his eyes but smiled. “If the war had ended differently, you probably would’ve been executed.”

Odysseus sobered slightly, then shrugged. “Fair point.”

Polites smirked. “Besides, if I had to marry a king, I probably would’ve picked you or Menelaus, you think me and Helen could have been co wife’s?”

Odysseus huffed, shaking his head. “You’re ridiculous.”
Polites just smiled, warm and knowing. “And you love me for it.”

The fire crackled between them, sending occasional sparks into the cool night air. Odysseus tilted his head back, staring at the endless stretch of darkness above them. The stars looked different here, distant and unfamiliar, as if they belonged to another world entirely. Maybe they did. Maybe this place wasn’t meant for the living, and yet he felt more at peace here than he had in years.

Polites was watching him, his sharp gaze still as knowing as ever. “You’re staying longer than I expected.”

Odysseus hummed. “Am I dreaming?”

Polites shrugged. “Does it matter?”

Odysseus considered that. “No,” he admitted. “Not really.”

Silence stretched between them again, comfortable this time. The weight of years, of loss, of grief, all of it seemed to settle into something lighter.

“Are you happy, Polites?” Odysseus asked at last, his voice quieter now.

Polites hesitated not in a way that suggested a lie, but rather carefully weighing his answer. Then, finally, he nodded. “Yeah. I think I am.”

Something inside Odysseus felt relief but before he could say anything, Polites reached out, tapping his forehead with two fingers like he used to, when they were young with their whole lives ahead of them.

“I think it’s time for you to go,” Polites murmured.

Odysseus frowned. “Go?”

Polites smiled, but this time it was tinged with something sad, something inevitable. “You don’t belong here yet.”

Odysseus opened his mouth, ready to argue, to tell him that maybe, just maybe, he wanted to stay a little longer. But before he could, the world around them began to shift. The fire flickered. The ground felt unsteady beneath him.

Polites was still smiling.

“Odysseus.”

His voice was fading.

“Wake up.”

Odysseus gasped, his eyes snapping open.

The fire was gone. The night was colder. And instead of Polites sitting across from him, it was his loving wife brow furrowed in concern.

“Love?” Penelopes voice was steady, but there was a flicker of worry in her gaze. “Are you alright?”

Odysseus exhaled, running a hand down his face. He felt the warmth of the dream lingering on his skin, the echo of laughter, of firelight, of a voice he had long thought lost.

Slowly, he nodded. “Yeah,” he murmured, his throat tight. “Yeah, I’m alright.”

Penelope didn’t look convinced, but she didn’t push. She simply nodded, settling back beside her husband.

Odysseus looked out the window and at the stars again, his chest lighter than it had been in years.

Somewhere, in a place beyond this one, he liked to think Polites was still watching the fire. Still laughing.
Still waiting.

Chapter Text

The night was still and quiet as Antinous carried Thalina through the town, Telemachus walking beside him. The streets, usually bustling with merchants, travelers, and villagers, were eerily empty, bathed in the soft glow of torchlight and moonlight.

Telemachus found himself looking around in fascination. He had never seen Ithaca like this so peaceful, so silent.

He turned to Antinous, eyes alight with curiosity. “I’ve never seen the town this empty before.”

Antinous, still not in the best mood from earlier, merely rolled his eyes and scoffed. “Did the royals never take you on night walks?”

Telemachus playfully sneered at him. “Well, I was a little busy making sure no one tried to do anything my mother, so no, I didn’t exactly have time for strolling through town after dark.”

At that, Antinous stiffened slightly. Just a slight tensing of his shoulders, a brief pause in his step almost imperceptible, but Telemachus caught it.

“…Right,” Antinous muttered after a beat, his voice quieter.

Telemachus immediately turned toward him, reaching out without hesitation. He grabbed Antinous’s free hand the one that wasn’t securely holding onto Thalina and squeezed it gently.

“My love,” he said, his voice softer now, more serious. “You know I don’t blame you, right?”

Antinous swallowed, his grip tightening around Telemachus’s hand for just a second before he looked away. “I don’t know how you can’t.”

Telemachus stopped walking.

Antinous barely had a chance to react before Telemachus stood on his toes and pressed a kiss to his cheek.

It wasn’t teasing, it wasn’t playful just warm, sincere, and grounding.

Antinous exhaled slowly, his grip on Telemachus’s hand loosening slightly, his tense shoulders relaxing just a bit.

Then, suddenly, there was wiggling.

Thalina squirmed in Antinous’s arms, shifting in his hold until she was practically bouncing.

Telemachus pulled back slightly, glancing at her with a raised brow. “What’s up, little one?”

Thalina pointed to her own cheek, tilting her head expectantly.

Telemachus blinked, then broke into a soft smile.

“Ah,” he said, amused. “Of course.”

Without hesitation, he leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss to her cheek as well.

Thalina let out a satisfied hum, curling back up against Antinous’s chest with a contented little murmur.

Antinous, watching the entire exchange, just sighed dramatically. “Great,” he muttered. “Now she’s spoiled.”

Telemachus shot him a smug grin. “She deserves to be spoiled.”

Antinous grumbled under his breath but didn’t argue. Instead, he just adjusted his grip on Thalina and squeezed Telemachus’s hand once before letting go.

Telemachus smiled to himself, walking a little closer as they continued on their way.
When they reached the house that was located on a little hill they began the climb and when they finally reached the front door they stepped inside the house, the warm scent of bread and herbs filled the air, the fire in the hearth casting a soft glow over the well kept space. Telemachus glanced around, familiarizing himself with the layout. Though he had met Asteria several times before most recently just a month ago in the market he had never visited her home. It was cozy, yet well structured, clearly built to last.

Antinous, still carrying Thalina, walked straight in as if he owned the place, dropping his bag near the entrance. Telemachus, ever the polite guest, hesitated slightly before stepping fully inside, shifting his own bag on his shoulder.

Asteria wiped her hands on a cloth and smirked at him. “No need to look so formal, Prince. You’re practically family already.”

Telemachus let out a small chuckle. “I appreciate that, but, well…” He shot a glance at Antinous, who was already making himself comfortable. “Someone has to have manners.”

Asteria laughed. “Fair point.”

Her eyes flickered to Thalina, who had been quietly taking everything in. “And who’s this?”

Before Telemachus could introduce her, Thalina perked up in Antinous’s arms. “I’m Thalina!” she said proudly. “I’m Mr. Lion’s assistant and the princess of our team!”

Asteria raised a brow at Antinous. “Mr. Lion?”

Antinous, completely unfazed, grinned. “She thinks I look like one.”

Asteria gave him a once over before nodding. “Fair enough although I thought she would have called you Mr wolf” at that Thalina shook her head and pointed at Telemachus and yelled “that’s Mr wolf”

Telemachus glanced around, curiosity getting the better of him. “Is your husband here?”

Asteria shook her head. “He’s still at the forge probably finishing a commission.”

Telemachus nodded, his mind briefly drifting to the bells the man had crafted to protect his mother’s chambers. It was his work that had given them an extra layer of security when the suitors had grown bold enough to plot against them. It was those bells that saved his mother. Also the man behind the earrings that his love was currently wearing, a symbol of their love forged into the metal.

He turned back to Asteria, his eyes flickering to her stomach. “You look well,” he said sincerely. “I’m happy to see that you and the baby are healthy.”

Asteria softened at that, her hand absentmindedly resting on her belly. “Thank you, Telemachus.”

Antinous groaned dramatically, adjusting Thalina in his grip. “Gods, you two are so sweet it’s making me sick.”

Asteria smirked at him. “Says the man who stormed into my house yelling.”

Antinous smirked right back. “Says the woman who knew I was coming and still acted surprised.”

She rolled her eyes. “Just because I knew doesn’t mean I wasn’t annoyed.”

Telemachus exhaled sharply, pinching the bridge of his nose. “So this is what I’m in for this entire visit, huh?”

Asteria grinned. “Oh, absolutely.”

Antinous plopped down onto the nearest chair, Thalina still curled against him, her small fins twitching quickly in amusement. He looked up at Telemachus and grinned. “Welcome to the family, little wolf.”

Telemachus sighed, already resigning himself to the chaos.

Chapter Text

The warmth of the kitchen made for a cozy atmosphere as the four of them sat at the wooden table, bowls of steaming soup in front of them. The scent of herbs, roasted vegetables, and tender meat filled the air, mingling with the soft crackle of the hearth in the corner.

Antinous, as casual as ever, lifted his spoon, blew on his soup, took a bite, and then, as if commenting on the weather, said “By the way, the little wolf and I are engaged.”

Asteria’s spoon slipped from her fingers and clattered loudly against the wooden table.

She stared at him for a split second, eyes wide, before screaming in pure shock and excitement.

Telemachus, startled, nearly dropped his own spoon.

Asteria immediately leaned forward, eyes sharp and eager as she began rapid firing questions.

“Who proposed?” she demanded. Then, before anyone could answer, she turned to Antinous and scoffed. “No, wait, it couldn’t have been you, you’re way too much of a coward”

Antinous scowled, “Hey!”

“So it had to be the prince!” she continued, undeterred. “When did this happen? How long have you two been engaged? Who else knows?”She paused before saying “have you told Father yet?”

At that last question, Antinous visibly grimaced and shoved a spoonful of soup into his mouth like it could physically prevent him from having to answer.

Asteria, ever perceptive, narrowed her eyes but didn’t press the subject further. Instead, she turned her attention fully to Telemachus, still clearly thrilled but also suddenly realizing she had just overwhelmed the prince with questions.

She pulled back slightly, placing a hand over her chest, and took a breath. “I’m so sorry, Telemachus,” she said, her voice softer now. “I’m just so happy.”

She smiled warmly, her golden brown eyes gleaming. “You see… my elder brother has always insisted that he was a lone man, that he would never settle down willingly. So to see him with someone,and someone who makes him happy it just brings me so much joy.”

Telemachus, recovering from the initial onslaught of excitement, returned her smile. He shook his head lightly, setting down his spoon.

“I understand,” he said sincerely.

He then straightened a little, glancing at Antinous, who was suddenly very interested in his soup. Turning back to Asteria, he answered,

“To answer your questions yes, I proposed, although it was…accidental.”

Asteria raised an eyebrow, intrigued.

Telemachus chuckled. “It happened about two months ago, and” He glanced at Antinous again, his expression softening. “I’m very happy with your brother. He is strong, he treats me very well, and” he smiled, voice filled with quiet certainty, “ he will be an amazing king.”

Asteria’s heart melted at those words.

Antinous, on the other hand, was bright red.

His ears, his neck, even the tips of his fingers gripping his spoon it was like every part of him betrayed him at once. He cleared his throat, avoiding eye contact as he muttered, “Yeah, yeah, alright, that’s enough of that.”

Asteria grinned, looking between the two of them. “Gods, you’re so in love.”

Antinous groaned dramatically, burying his face in his hands. “I regret telling you.”

Asteria just laughed, practically glowing with happiness. “I’m happy you did!”

Telemachus, watching his very flustered fiancé, just smiled into his soup.

Thalina, nestled against Telemachus’s side, let out a deep yawn, her finned ears twitching slightly as her body tried to shut down for the night. But despite the clear signs of exhaustion, she blinked blearily, rubbing at her eyes with tiny fists, determined to stay awake.

Telemachus smiled, watching her struggle against the inevitable. “You’re fighting a losing battle, little one,” he murmured, before scooping her up into his arms.

Thalina let out a soft huff of protest but immediately relaxed into his hold, tucking her face into the crook of his neck. “Not…tired…” she mumbled, but her voice had already lost its fight.

Telemachus chuckled, adjusting his grip so she was cradled more comfortably against him. “Mmhmm. Sure you’re not.”

Antinous, who had been leaning back lazily in his chair, arms crossed over his chest, watched them with a soft expression. His sharp eyes followed the way Telemachus murmured something softly into Thalina’s ear, the way her little hands curled into his tunic, her breathing already slowing as sleep took hold.

Something about the sight made something tighten in his chest, something about the man he loved and the girl he has come to consider his own just makes him feel whole.

Telemachus glanced back at him and gave him a small, fond smile before disappearing down the hallway, carrying Thalina off to bed.

Antinous didn’t move. His eyes stayed on the spot where Telemachus had stood, his expression unreadable.

Asteria, who had been watching him closely, finally broke the silence.

“Mom’s coming over tomorrow.”

Antinous stiffened not obviously, not in a way most people would notice, but Asteria had spent years reading his tells.

His fingers curled slightly against the table, his jaw tightening before he forced himself to relax. “Oh?” His voice was too casual. “That’s cool. It’ll be nice to see Mom.”

Asteria’s gaze remained steady. She could hear the forced ease in his tone, could see the way he was already bracing himself.

But instead of calling him out, she shifted the subject slightly. “Alexandra’s coming too.”

That, at least, got a genuine reaction. Antinous’s eyes flicked up, and a small, real smile tugged at his lips. “She is? I haven’t seen her in a while. She must be at least fourteen by now.”

“She turns fourteen next month,” Asteria corrected. Then, with an amused look, she added, “Not that you’d ever forget you always send her some ridiculous gift that pisses Father off.”

Antinous huffed out a short laugh, shaking his head. “Well, I have to compensate for the fact that he does nothing for her and besides when does anything I do not piss off father?”

Asteria sighed, her own amusement dimming slightly. “You know…” she hesitated, choosing her words carefully. “With Mom coming, there’s a very good chance he’s coming too.”

Antinous didn’t answer right away.

Instead, he let out a slow, steady breath, dragging a hand through his dark curls. He stared at the flickering fire for a long moment before finally responding, his voice lower.

“I figured.”

There was a beat of silence. The kind that meant something.

Asteria could tell by the way his shoulders tensed, by the way his fingers tapped idly against the table, that he was already bracing himself.

Antinous let out another slow exhale before speaking again, his tone measured but firm. “As long as the bastard doesn’t say anything about Thalina or Telemachus, then I’ll be civil.”

Asteria studied him carefully. “And if he does?”

Antinous didn’t even hesitate.

“Then I will rock his shit.”

His voice wasn’t raised, wasn’t aggressive
but there was a finality to it. A certainty.

Asteria searched his face for a long moment before nodding slowly, leaning back in her chair.

“I wouldn’t have it any other way,” she said, voice quiet but firm.

Antinous scoffed lightly, but there was no real humor in it.
He stood up and bent over placing a kiss on her head and saying “I love you Aster” before stretching and walking to the room that Telemachus and Thalina are in.
They both knew what tomorrow would bring.
And neither of them were looking forward to it.

Chapter Text

The soft morning light filtered through the curtains, casting a golden glow across the room. Everything was peaceful quiet, except for the rhythmic breathing of the two figures still sleeping soundly the bed and the loud snoring of one tiny figure. Antinous lay on his side, one arm draped loosely over the smaller frame nestled between him and Telemachus. Thalina, the little nymph, was curled up against his chest, her frills shifting slightly with each sleepy breath. Telemachus on the other side of her had a hand resting on her back, a picture of ease and warmth. The perfect family.

Then there was a knock at the door, A light knock.

Thalina, who had been snugly nestled between Antinous and Telemachus, stirred. Her finned ears twitched, and with a sleepy little murmur, she wiggled her way free from the warm cocoon of blankets. Neither of the men beside her woke, too drained from the events of yesterday and too deep in slumber to notice as she crawled off the bed and made her way out the room and towards the door toward the door, her small hands reaching up to nudge it open.

She blinked up at the three figures standing in the doorway.

A beautiful woman with warm brown eyes and long dark hair. She seemed tired but looked sweet.

A girl, older than her, with similar features to Mr lion, watching curiously.

And a man.
A broad shouldered man with a stern face and cold sharp eyes.

Thalina smiled at the woman and the girl, sensing no danger from them. The woman opened her mouth to speak, but before she could, the man’s voice cut through the air like a blade.

“What the hell are you?”

His voice was rough, cold, filled with something she couldn’t quite name. but it made her instincts scream at her to run but she was frozen to her spot.

Fear gripped her little chest, and before she could stop herself, she screamed.

A loud, sharp wail of terror.

The sound shattered the morning quiet, piercing through the house like a war call and then chaos.

Within seconds, two sets of booming footsteps came crashing toward the room.

Antinous was first. He burst through the doorway, a knife clenched tightly in his hand, his face a mixture of panic and fury.

Right behind him was Klytos, Asteria’s husband, his massive frame filling the hallway as he wielded a hammer in one hand and a burning torch in the other.
Both men were ready to kill.
Soon after them ran in Telemachus and Asteria.
But then Antinous saw her.

Thalina his sweet, tiny nymph, his baby girl was standing there, sobbing, pointing frantically toward the door.

The knife clattered to the floor as he rushed to her, scooping her up in one smooth motion.

“What’s wrong, sweetie?” he murmured, his voice gentler now, his arms strong and steady as he bounced her slightly to calm her down as he she just continued to sob not answering him.
Hey, hey, it’s ok Thalina, I’ve got you,” he murmured, voice softer than Telemachus had probably ever heard it. He ran a hand over her hair, feeling her tiny body shake as she sobbed into his shoulder. “You’re safe, I’ve got you.”

Klytos, still gripping his hammer tightly, turned toward the open doorway, his gaze narrowing as he spotted the three figures.

His shoulders relaxed slightly when he recognized the women, but the moment his eyes landed on the man, his grip tightened around the handle again and although he lowered his weapon he still had it ready.

Meanwhile, Thalina, still hiccupping with fear, trying to hide in his arms weakly pointed toward the door.

“Scary man! Scary man!”

Antinous’s stomach dropped.

Slowly, he turned his head toward the entrance, toward the figures standing there.
And then his blood ran cold.

Standing right in front of him, his face unreadable, was the one man he never wanted to see in the morning or ever.

His father.

“Hello father.”

Chapter Text

father, standing just beyond the threshold, regarded him with that same unyielding and unmerciful expression he had worn when Antinous was a boy.
A look that held was anger, disappointment, and something harder to define something with the look of a man carved from the same stone as the statues of gods who did not listen to prayers who did not listen to begs and screams of anguish.
Antinous had spent years learning to read people the subtle shifts in expression that gave away a person’s true thoughts a skill that had proven helpful when he was sent to the palace at 19, but his father had always been an exception. The man’s silence was a fortress, and Antinous had long ago stopped trying to scale its walls. After all this man’s silence never lasts long before the screaming starts, before he could think too hard about the emotions tightening his chest, his mother ran forward, throwing herself at him.

“Oh, my son!” she gasped, wrapping her arms around him in a fierce hug. “I thought you were dead!”

Antinous barely managed to shift Thalina in his arms before she got completely crushed between them. “Mama” he started, struggling slightly under the sudden onslaught of affection. “Why would I be dead?”

His mother pulled back just enough to cup his face, eyes shining with unshed tears and with a mixture of relief and disbelief she exclaimed “The days and nights I would spend wishing for you to come home, I thought about you so much it hurt, and now you are right here before me, Oh, my son,” she murmured, her fingers tracing over his cheeks as if memorizing every detail. “Look how much you’ve grown!”

Antinous blinked at her, a little overwhelmed. “I yeah, I guess so I’m not a teenager anymore but Mama, I haven’t been gone that long!” He gave her a lopsided, bewildered grin. “I mean, it’s only been a few years, I wouldn’t have died in that time.”
Before his mother could respond, another voice chimed in from the doorway.

“Antinous,” Alexandra called, stepping inside.

Antinous turned to see his youngest sister standing there, her arms crossed but her face soft with something between relief and exasperation although she still had this shy air about her she looked like the same 10 year old he left three almost four years ago . “It’s common knowledge that all the suitors died,” she continued with “We thought you were dead too.”

Antinous paused.

Oh. Right.

For a moment, he had forgotten what people must have assumed happended. The slaughter of the suitors the assumption that he had died alongside the others, it made sense its not like he had any friends outside of Telemachus and Asteria to say “hey I’m alive to” so to most people, he had simply vanished.
That realization settled awkwardly in his stomach, but before he could think too hard about it, a tiny huff of frustration came from his arms.

Thalina, who had grown tired of being nearly smothered by Antinous’s mother, decided she had had enough.

With an impressive little wiggle, she squirmed her way up until she was perched higher against Antinous’s chest. Then, with all the authority her tiny body could muster, she reached out her small, clawed hands and placed them firmly on the woman’s face, squishing her cheeks slightly.

Antinous’s mother froze in shock.

Thalina stared at her with wide, golden eyes, scrutinizing her for a long moment before, finally finally her face split into a tiny, fanged smile. “Pretty lady looks like Mr lion”

The entire room stilled.

Antinous, after a brief pause, simply sighed, his grip tightening slightly around the little nymph as he muttered under his breath with a little smile “Oh, gods, she’s choosing you.”

The moment was peaceful too peaceful.
Then came the roar.

“Get that filthy creature off your mother!”

Antinous’s father’s voice sliced through the room like a blade, thick with disgust and anger. It rattled the walls, sent a sharp tension through the air, and made Thalina flinch slightly, her little ears flattening against her head.

Antinous, however, didn’t flinch. He didn’t even look at the man. Instead, he let out a slow breath, rolling his shoulders as if physically shaking off the weight of his father’s words he mentally took note that his father couldn’t even call her his wife no she was just “his mother”. Then, at last, he turned, his sharp eyes narrowing slightly.

“She’s a hell of a lot cleaner than you,” he muttered dryly.

His father stiffened clearly not used to any back talk.

Antinous rubbed at his temple, already feeling the dull throb of an oncoming headache. “But,” he exhaled, his tone calm too calm, “I’m not in the mood to fight.”

Finally, he turned his gaze back down to Thalina, who was still holding onto his mother’s face, looking between them in obvious confusion.

Antinous softened. He lowered his head slightly so that they were eye level, his voice dropping into something gentle, something safe and comforting.

“My princess,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “I need you to take your hands off the pretty lady now.”

Thalina blinked at him but obeyed, slowly pulling her hands back a slight frown on her face.

“There’s my good girl,” Antinous praised, rubbing a hand over her soft curls. “You’re so pretty and smart and such a good listener.”

Thalina beamed slightly at the praise, though she still cast a wary glance at Antinous’s father as he gently handed her over to Telemachus, who cradled her without hesitation poking her in her belly with a finger to make her giggle.

Then, just as quickly as the situation seemed to be diffused, his father snapped again.

“What is the prince doing here?!”

Antinous let out a sharp sigh through his nose and rolled his eyes so hard it was a miracle they didn’t fall out of his skull.

Instead of answering, he simply turned on his heel and walked away, heading toward the living room where Alexandra had already settled herself onto one of the couches. She was lounging in a way that suggested she had no intention of getting involved in whatever argument was sure to break out.

Antinous plopped himself onto the couch beside her with a grunt, tossing an arm over the back of it.

“How have you been?” he asked, voice far more relaxed than it had been a moment ago.

Alexandra, quiet as always, didn’t immediately answer. She played with the hem of her sleeve for a second before finally speaking. “A boy is trying to court me,” she admitted, “but I don’t know if I desire him.”

Antinous tilted his head back against the couch, staring up at the ceiling. “Do what makes you happy,” he said lazily. “Be with who makes you happy, no matter what the bastard has to say about it I’d rather you be with no one then be with someone who treats you like father treats mama.

There was a brief silence.

Then, slowly, Alexandra’s lips curled into something mischievous.

“And who makes you happy?” she asked, far too sweetly.

Antinous blinked, side eyeing her. “What are you going on about?”

She hummed, tilting her head. “You and the prince seem close.”

Antinous rolled his eyes. “Gods above, Alexandra.”

She smirked.

Antinous exhaled through his nose, shaking his head. “I’ll tell you,” he murmured, “if you don’t snitch to the bastard.”

Alexandra scoffed, crossing her arms almost looking offended. “Why would I tell him anything?”

Antinous smirked at her before leaning in slightly, voice lowering into a conspiratorial whisper.

“You,” he murmured, lips twitching, “are sitting next to one of the two future kings.”

He leaned back again, resting his arms behind his head, looking perfectly at ease.

Alexandra blinked.
Frowned.
And then, as the realization slammed into her, her eyes widened.
“WHAT?!”
Antinous just grinned before turning to his sister again and saying “so don’t worry too much about who you chose to be with; man, woman, no one, I will support you no matter what and so will the royal family of Ithaca.”

Chapter Text

Antinous still lounging slightly beside Alexandra, while the others entered the living room Telemachus sitting next to Antinous and Alexandra near the center of the room, Thalina cradled securely and happily in his arms. Across from them, Eupeithes, Antinous’s father, sat stiffly, his expression unreadable though the sharpness in his gaze was unmistakable.

Finally, Eupeithes spoke, his voice smooth but carrying an unmistakable weight of condescension.

“So, prince,” he said, his tone carefully neutral, “what exactly are you doing in my daughter and her husband’s home?”

Telemachus only grinned although internally he was burning, knowing that this polite front was just that a front.
This was the same man who had put his fiancé through hell as a child. Who had never let him breathe or know peace growing up without reminding him of his “failures” of how he was somehow a woman for getting his ears pierced, how he was a disgrace for liking boys. He remembers the look on Antinous face when talking about having no choice but to pursue a woman almost two times his age, and all the mistreatment of him and his mother and sisters over the years.

But still, Telemachus kept his expression friendly, his grip tightening just slightly around Thalina whether to comfort her or himself he isn’t sure.

“Well,” he said, voice smooth and casual, “Antinous wanted to visit his sister before she gave birth, so here we are.”

From the corner of his eye, he saw Antinous’s mother tentatively step forward. What suprised Telemachus was how young she looked, Antinous had said that his mom had had him and his sisters when she was young that was normal his own mother had him rather young but she looked too young, in comparison to her husband she was just a child.

She nodded before bowing her head slightly, her voice soft. “It’s so nice to meet you,” she said carefully. “My name is Mahdokht”She cut herself off almost instantly.

Telemachus caught it the way her voice faltered, the way her entire posture stiffened, the way her eyes darted toward her husband.

The look on Eupeithes’s face was warning enough and the warning was clear.

She swallowed.

“Sorry,” she murmured quickly, lowering her gaze. “I misspoke. My name is Hupotasso.”

Telemachus glanced at Antinous, Alexandra and finally he glanced at Klytos and Asteria lingering by the doorway, Asteria’s hand resting protectively over the swell of her stomach, while their mother, Mahdokht or rather, Hupotasso, as she had just been corrected her fingers nervously twisting the fabric of her chiton.
Telemachus’s stomach turned.

He knew that word.

It didn’t mean a name. It wasn’t even a proper word, it was a command.

It meant to submit.

His fingers twitched slightly against Thalina’s back again but he forced his smile to remain, pretending he hadn’t just witnessed that exchange.

“It’s so nice to meet you,” he said smoothly. “You raised a wonderful son.”

Hupotasso blushed at the compliment, her eyes softening instantly. “Oh,” she murmured, “he is an amazing boy, sweetest joy I have known.She hesitated again, glancing quickly at her husband as if seeking his approval before turning back to Telemachus. “But my prince,” she started.

Telemachus cut her off before she could finish.

“You can just call me Telemachus,” he said, giving her an easy smile.

For the first time since she had entered the room, her lips curled into something genuine. “Telemachus,” she corrected herself, nodding. Then, her expression grew more serious. “Would you be willing to tell me how my son survived?” She hesitated. “And why he didn’t come back home after your father returned?”

Telemachus made an attempt to look guilty. He even lowered his eyes for a brief second, letting out a quiet sigh as though he were carrying the weight of an unfortunate truth.

Then with diplomatic precision he gently took her hands, squeezing them slightly in reassurance.
“I’m so sorry that you were worried,” he said sincerely. “But to answer your question your son survived because he was helping me protect my mom.”

Mahdokh gasped, her hands tightening over Telemachus’s as her gaze snapped to her son.

Antinous, who had been watching silently from the couch, only shrugged slightly, looking away as though he didn’t particularly want to talk about it.

Telemachus, undeterred, pressed forward.
“And the reason he didn’t come home,” he continued, “was because my father made him his general.”
The room went silent.

Mahdokh’s hands flew to her mouth as she gasped.

Even Asteria’s eyes widened slightly even though she already knew this information, it’s still always shocking to hear.

But Eupeithes?

His entire body stiffened. He was pissed.

Telemachus mentally smirked, bingo! but still perfectly composed he decided to keep going and pressed the knife in deeper.

“I apologize on behalf of myself and the royal family,” he said smoothly. “I thought he wrote you a letter explaining everything.”

His words were carefully chosen perfectly calculated.

Because Telemachus knew Antinous hadn’t sent a letter to his home, he wanted to but he didn’t.

And he knew exactly why.

Because even if he had written one, it would have been burned before his mother ever saw it.

Chapter Text

Meanwhile back at the castle it had been peaceful for all of 12 hours before the moping began.
It had started with Odysseus, who despite being the legendary king of Ithaca, the man who had spent twenty years away from his home, fought in a war, and traveled the seas, stabbed a god was now absolutely inconsolable over the fact that his son was gone for a week.

And, as it turned out, he wasn’t the only one.

Because Circe, of all people, had somehow ended up right beside him, also moping.
About Thalina.

And now, in the center of it all, caught between them, was Penelope, wedged in place as both Odysseus and Circe clung to her like oversized, miserable children.

She should have left the room when she had the chance.

“I knew it,” Odysseus sniffled dramatically, his arms wrapped around Penelope’s waist, his face buried against her shoulder. “I knew that boy was going to leave me again. First Sparta, then he stays in Ithaca just long enough for me to get comfortable, and then he’s off again! My baby! My only son!”

Circe, on the other side of Penelope, let out an equally dramatic sigh. “Exactly,” she murmured, draping herself across Penelope’s lap like a fainting maiden. “And Thalina my darling, my sweetest little one was stolen from me! Taken in the dead of night! How am I supposed to survive without her?”

Penelope, who had been enduring this nonsense for the past three hours, simply sighed, pressing a hand to her forehead.

“She wasn’t stolen,” she reminded Circe for the seventh time. “She followed Antinous and Telemachus, and you agreed to it.”

Circe let out a dramatic little sob, curling further into Penelope. “I wasn’t thinking!” she wailed. “I thought she’d get bored! I thought she’d come running back within a day! But no, she abandoned me for some brute and a prince! Me! The gods bless me with divine beauty, and my own child leaves me!”

“She isn’t your child,” Penelope gritted out, trying to maneuver her way into a more comfortable position, but failing miserably with both of them wrapped around her.

“She may not be my blood, but I raised her,” Circe sniffled, wiping at her eyes. “I taught her how to sing, how to dance, how to do magic and strike fear into the hearts of men. And this is how she repays me? She runs off with two boys?”
Penelope rolls her eyes then turns to her husband and says “my dear your son hasn’t even left Ithacan soil you could quite literally see him whenever you want”
Odysseus scoffed, shifting against Penelope in irritation.
“She could have at least run off with a nymph,” Circe muttered bitterly.

“Yes, because that would make a difference,” Penelope deadpanned.

“It would,” Circe said primly, flipping her hair over her shoulder. “Nymphs are much more reliable.”

Odysseus groaned. “You’re impossible.”

“Says the man who’s been dramatically weeping into his wife’s shoulder for hours.”

Odysseus gasped, scandalized. “I have not been weeping.”

“Oh, my mistake. You’ve just been leaking dramatically.”

“I am expressing my emotions!”

“You’re wailing like a widow.”

“I am a widow! Spiritually! My son is gone!”

Circe rolled her eyes. “For a week.”

“A week is a long time!” Odysseus shot back, looking truly offended.

Circe waved a hand dismissively. “Try waiting five hundred years.”

“Oh, here we go,” Odysseus groaned. “Everything with you is about how old you are.”

“It is relevant!”

“It is bragging!”

Circe smirked. “You sound jealous.”

“I am not jealous! I just think it’s unnecessary to bring up your age in every conversation.”

“Unnecessary?” Circe gasped, clutching her chest. “How dare you! It is a mark of wisdom! Of power! A mark of!

“Of being old?” Odysseus finished, smirking.

Circe gasped louder, horrified. “Penelope, did you hear that? He called me old!”

“I heard,” Penelope muttered, pressing her fingertips to her temples. “And I don’t care.”

Circe pouted, slumping back into Penelope’s lap with a dramatic sigh. “You used to be more fun.”

“I used to be well rested.”

Odysseus let out another dramatic sniffle, clinging even tighter. “And what if he never comes back? What if this is the last time I’ll ever see my son?”

Penelope froze.

Because suddenly, despite all the over the top dramatics, Odysseus’s voice sounded genuinely sad.

And that that hit something inside her.

With a sigh, she softened, gently stroking his hair. “He will come back, my love,” she murmured, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. “You raised him too well for him to stay away forever.”

Odysseus let out another pitiful sniff, though it seemed to calm him slightly.

Then

“Well, I raised Thalina just as well,” Circe muttered bitterly, pouting into Penelope’s lap. “And she still left me.”

Penelope closed her eyes, inhaled slowly, and exhaled even slower.

Then, with the same gentle touch, she moved her hand to Circe’s hair, stroking it soothingly. “You are her mama, Circe,” she said softly, pressing her lips to the top of Circe’s head just as she had with Odysseus. “She will always come back to you.”

Circe blinked up at her, sniffling slightly. “Really?”

“Really,” Penelope assured her, smoothing down a stray curl. “You know how children are. They wander. They grow. But they always return to the ones who love them.”

Circe pouted, but there was something less miserable about it now, something softer. She nuzzled into Penelope’s lap with a dramatic sigh. “I suppose you have a point.”

“Of course I do,” Penelope murmured, still combing her fingers through Circe’s hair.

Odysseus, now somewhat comforted, sighed, shifting closer against Penelope’s other side. “This is why I married you,” he mumbled. “You’re too perfect.”

“Mm,” Circe hummed, nestling further into Penelope’s lap. “I should have married her first.”

Odysseus groaned, too tired to start this argument again.

Circe smirked. “You know, she would make a wonderful witch.”

“She would make a wonderful queen,” Odysseus shot back.

“She already is a queen,” Circe pointed out, eyes glittering with mischief. Odysseus ever the braggard when it comes to talking about his wife goes “Yes, and she’s my queen.” Circe rolled her eyes “Debatable.”

“Not debatable.”

“You’re awfully possessive for a man who spent ten years stranded on islands with other women.”

Odysseus opened his mouth, then closed it again, scowling. “That was different.”

“Of course it was,” Circe said sweetly, resting her head in Penelope’s lap.
Penelope, sighing heavily, curled an arm around Circe, tugging her closer, while her other hand resumed stroking Odysseus’s hair. “Enough,” she murmured, pressing a kiss to Circe’s forehead before doing the same to Odysseus. “I love you both. You’re both dramatic. Now hush.”

Odysseus sighed into her shoulder. Circe let out a pleased hum against her lap.
Neither moved.
Penelope resigned herself to being trapped for the rest of the night.
It was going to be a long week.

Chapter Text

Antinous could feel the tensionpressing down on him, curling around the silence like a snake winding through the air in the way his mother’s hands trembled and the way his father’s jaw tightened as it always did before he would lash out.
No one spoke.
No one moved.
Then
BUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUURP.

The ungodly sound that ripped through the room was so absurdly loud that it seemed to shake the very walls.
Everyone froze.
Every single head in the room snapped toward the source.
And there, still perched comfortably in Telemachus’s arms, was Thalina her tiny hands gripping his tunic, her golden eyes wide with horror as she realized what had just escaped her mouth.

The silence was deafening.

Even Eupeithes ever composed when he wasn’t yelling at his family looked momentarily stunned, his brow furrowing as if trying to comprehend how such an earth shattering sound had come from something so small.

Thalina, now looking mortified, made a tiny, panicked noise before scrambling out of Telemachus’s arms. She crawled across the couch at a shocking speed, beelining straight for Antinous before practically throwing herself behind his shoulder, gripping onto the ends of his hair like it was some kind of protective shield.

Antinous, watching her antics with mild amusement, reached up to pat her head. “Gods, kid,” he murmured, “where do you keep all that air?”

Still, he rubbed her back gently, feeling the way her tiny fingers clutched the fabric of his tunic as she pressed her face against his neck, clearly trying to disappear.

Eupeithes, finally shaking off his bewilderment, scowled.

“What even is that?”he asked, his tone laced with disdain.

Antinous sighed heavily, barely sparing him a glance. “She’s a water nymph.”

Eupeithes let out a sharp breath through his nose, looking her over again as if assessing whether that information was acceptable.

“Fine,” he said gruffly. “But why do you have her?”
Antinous knew deep in his soul that he absolutely could not say, Because she’s mine and Telemachus’s daughter, future princess of Ithaca obviously.

Instead, he slowly blinked at his father, face unreadable.

Then, after a moment, he shrugged and said, completely deadpan
“Why don’t you have a water nymph?”

Asteria snorted so loudly that she had to turn away and burry her face in her husbands chest to hide her laughter.

Telemachus pressed a hand over his mouth, his shoulders shaking as he tried to keep his composure.

Even Mahdokht his own mother looked like she was biting her tongue to keep from smiling.
But Eupeithes?
His scowl deepened.
Antinous only smirked.
And just like that the tension in the room had settled not completely gone, but no longer suffocating. Instead, it had shifted into something else. Something awkward. Something that involved Eupeithes sitting in the corner sulking like a child who just had been told no sweets before dinner while everyone else continued on without him.
Antinous, for his part, found it hilarious.

His father the great Eupeithes, a man so full of pride and self importance, the same man who constantly told him as a child that he was too immature was currently sitting in complete silence, arms crossed over his chest, his expression set into a deep frown as he glared at absolutely nothing. Every now and then, his nostrils flared slightly, as if he wanted to say something, wanted to insert himself back into the conversation, but simply couldn’t find a way to do so.
Pathetic. And tho think that this is the same man who has caused so much pain.

Antinous smirked to himself and turned his attention back to the others.

Meanwhile, Thalina had found her way to Mahdokht’s lap.

Antinous hadn’t even seen it happen one moment, she was still tucked against his shoulder, and the next, she was comfortably curled up in Mahdokht’s arms like she had been there all along.

And Mahdokht?

She looked absolutely enchanted.

Her hands gently cradled Thalina’s small form, her fingers brushing delicately through her silken hair, and her expression was soft softer than Antinous had seen in years.

Thalina, on the other hand, was completely occupied playing with the dangling earrings Mahdokht wore, her tiny clawed fingers carefully tracing the metalwork, her golden eyes shining with curiosity. Every now and then, she would gently nip at Mahdokht’s fingertips, not with any real intent to bite, but more like an affectionate little chomp the way young nymphs often showed affection.

Mahdokht let out a soft laugh, tapping a finger against Thalina’s nose.

“Oh, little one,” she murmured, shaking her head in amusement. “You have such sharp teeth.”

Thalina grinned, displaying those tiny fangs with pride.

Antinous watched them for a moment, something warm curling in his chest.

Then his attention shifted.

Because Alexandra his youngest sister was sitting stiffly across from Telemachus, her posture rigid, her hands neatly folded in her lap.

And she was staring.

Not in a rude way. Not in a hostile way.

But in the way someone really wants to say something but can’t figure out how to do it.

Antinous smirked.

Oh, this was precious.

His little sister the one who always was so shy but so collected, the one who usually rolled her eyes at things like status and wealth was clearly anxious to talk to a prince.
Telemachus, to his credit, didn’t seem bothered by it.

In fact, he had clearly noticed her nerves but was pretending not to see them, giving her space to work up the courage to speak on her own terms.

Alexandra, still hesitating, fidgeted slightly.

Finally, she seemed to come to some sort of conclusion in her head, because she let out a quiet breath, straightened her back even more, and politely cleared her throat.

Telemachus immediately turned his attention to her, his usual easy going smile in place.

Antinous grinned.

This was going to be good.

Alexandra smiled nervously, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear as she finally mustered the courage to speak.

“So have you been friends with my brother for long?”

Telemachus turned his head toward her, his expression warm as he opened his mouth to answer

Only to be cut off when Antinous threw an arm around his shoulders, yanking him in close with a smug grin.

“Yeah, of course! Me and him have been friends since day one!” Antinous declared, his voice full of exaggerated confidence.

Telemachus jerked slightly from the force of it, blinking in surprise before casting Antinous a side eye filled with pure skepticism. “Day one, huh?”

Across the table, Asteria made an unladylike snorting sound, shaking her head as she muttered, “That’s a bold faced lie.”
Because she knew.
Oh, she knew.

The real “day one” had been filled with Antinous mocking Telemachus in front of the other suitors, Telemachus telling him he hopes he chokes and dies, and the two of them nearly coming to blows multiple times. It had been a slow, begrudging transition into a friendship and now a relationship. Not the instant camaraderie Antinous was now claiming.
But Alexandra, completely oblivious to this history, brightened at the answer.

“Oh,” she said, visibly relaxing. “That’s nice.”

And Antinous, ever the showman, leaned in further with a smirk, tightening his grip around Telemachus’s shoulder.

“Isn’t it?” he drawled dramatically, shooting Telemachus an expectant look. “Right, best friend?”

Telemachus just stared at him for a moment, deadpan, before finally sighing, shaking his head with a small but undeniable smile.

“Sure,” he said, playing along. “Best friend.”

Antinous grinned, clearly pleased with himself.

Asteria, on the other hand, just groaned and buried her face in her hands.

“Dumbass,” she muttered again under her breath, though the affectionate tilt to her voice betrayed the fondness underneath.

Alexandra leaned in slightly, glancing toward where their father who was still pouting and mother who was still playing with an energetic nymph. Once she was sure they weren’t paying attention, she turned back to Telemachus and Antinous, her voice barely above a whisper.

“I’m happy you two are engaged,” she said softly, her words sincere.

She hesitated for a moment, her fingers fidgeting with the edge of her sleeve before she continued, “My brother he seems happy.”

There was something in the way she said it like she hadn’t seen him this way before, like it was a relief to her that he could be happy.

Antinous, who had been lazily resting against Telemachus’s shoulder, blinked at her, his usual teasing smirk faltering for just a second.

Then, he scoffed, leaning back in his chair with exaggerated nonchalance. “Of course I’m happy. Why wouldn’t I be? I have a stunning fiancé, a wonderful home, and a delightful little sister who” he paused, tilting his head, “just admitted she likes me.”

Alexandra immediately bristled like a cat who’s tail had been stepped on, she crossed her arms. “I never said I liked you.”

Antinous placed a hand over his chest, feigning deep offense. “You literally just said ”

“I said you seemed happy,” Alexandra corrected, rolling her eyes. “That doesn’t mean I like you.”

Telemachus, watching the two bicker, chuckled, shaking his head. “It’s fine, Alexandra,” he said, smiling. “You don’t have to admit it. We all know you adore him just as I do”

Alexandra groaned, dropping her head into her hands. “I hate both of you.”

Antinous grinned. “And yet, here you are, conspiring in whispers to tell us how happy you are for us. Sounds like love to me.”

Alexandra let out a dramatic sigh, muttering, “I regret this conversation.” despite her words, there was a small smile tugging at the corner of her lips.While the siblings playfully bickered Telemachus found himself glancing at Mahdokht’s hands.Her fingers, delicate and worn with years of use, bore faint scars. Small, thin lines crossing over her knuckles, trailing down toward her wrists. Weaver’s hands.

His brows furrowed slightly.

“You like weaving, don’t you?” he asked, his tone light, though there was something deeply thoughtful in his gaze.

Mahdokht blinked, looking slightly startled before nodding. “Oh, yes,” she said with a shy smile. “I always have. Since I was a little girl.”

Telemachus’s own smile widened. “Me too.”

But Telemachus had already stood, brushing nonexistent dust from his chiton. “How about me, you, and Asteria go to the market and look for some nice thread?” He grinned at her. “My treat.”

Before Eupeithes could even begin to argue, Telemachus had already moved,gently helping Mahdokht out of her chair, steadying her with a warm hand at her back.

Thalina who had been idly playing ends of mahokhts hair was swiftly scooped up into Telemachus’s arms, giggling happily as she curled into him.

Asteria, sensing an opportunity, didn’t waste a single second. She was already grabbing her shawl, throwing it over her shoulders, and striding toward the door. “Come on, Mama,” she said brightly, grinning as she held the door open. “Let’s get out of here before he starts complaining.”

She didn’t name their father outright, but the implication was clear.

Mahdokht hesitated for half a second glancing toward Eupeithes as if seeking silent permission but Antinous rolled his eyes and gave her a light shove toward the door. “Go,” he muttered. “Enjoy yourself for once.”

And, just like that, she was gone, whisked away by Asteria and Telemachus before Eupeithes could so much as open his mouth.
The door clicked shut behind them, leaving Antinous standing alone in the now much quieter room.

He blinked.

Then snorted.

“Little wolf, you sneaky bastard,” he muttered to himself, shaking his head with a smirk as he leaned back in his chair.
For once, it seemed, Telemachus was the one playing the games.

Chapter Text

The four of them made their way through the bustling market, the scent of fresh bread and roasted meat mingling with the salty breeze rolling in from the sea. Merchants called out their wares, colorful fabrics and shimmering jewelry catching the sunlight as people weaved through the crowded streets.

Telemachus walked slightly ahead, Thalina perched comfortably in his arms, her golden eyes wide with fascination at all the sights around her reaching out to touch the different fabrics they passed.

He glanced over at Mahdokht, smiling warmly. “So, Mahdokht,” he started, only to be met with a soft, hesitant shake of her head.

“It’s Hupotasso,” she corrected quietly, almost as if the name itself was too heavy on her tongue.

Telemachus slowed his pace, cocking his head as he studied her. “Is that the name your parents gave you?”

Mahdokhtlowered her gaze slightly. “No.”

Telemachus frowned, shifting Thalina slightly in his arms. “Then is that a name you chose for yourself?”

Again, a small, almost imperceptible shake of her head.

Something in Telemachus’s chest tightened.

He took a deep breath, then, with a gentle certainty, said, “Then that’s not your name.”

Mahdokht’s eyes widened slightly, lips parting as if she wanted to protest but no words came. She simply stared at him, searching for something, some hidden meaning in his expression.

Asteria, who had been quietly observing, let out a small, almost relieved laugh, placing a hand on her mother’s arm. “See, Mama?” she murmured softly. “I’ve told you this before.”

Mahdokht still looked uncertain, but there was something new in her gaze now something like hope. For if a prince were to tell her this, then it must be the truth.

Telemachus just smiled at her, kind and reassuring, before turning forward once more. “Now,” he said, his voice light and full of purpose, “let’s find the best thread in all of Ithaca.”

And with that, he led them forward away from the weight of a name that had never belonged to her.

As they wandered through the marketplace, the four of them Thalina, Telemachus, Asteria, and Mahdokht soon arrived at a familiar stall. It was the same one where Telemachus and Antinous had stood all those months ago, where Telemachus had picked out that thread for his mother and confided in Antinous that he spoke to Athena

Mahdokht’s eyes drifted over the selection, her fingers trailing delicately over the spools of thread until she stopped at a particular one a golden brown color, rich and warm, like sunlight against wood.

She smiled.

Behind her, Telemachus, who had been watching, spoke up. “It’s the same color as Antinous’s eyes.”

Mahdokht turned to him, surprised for a moment, before her smile grew softer. “Yes,” she murmured, lifting the spool with a certain fondness. “It is.”

Asteria, who had been quietly watching their exchange, smiled to herself, a warmth settling in her chest at the sight of her mother and future brother in law bonding in their own quiet way.

From Telemachus’s arms, Thalina, who had been absentmindedly playing with a loose thread on his chiton, perked up at the sound of Antinous’s name. Her golden eyes lit up, and she suddenly shouted, “Mr. Lion!” before eagerly looking around, as if expecting him to appear.

Telemachus chuckled, shifting her weight slightly in his arms. “He isn’t here minnow,” he said, gently. “He’s back at Asteria’s house with Klytos and” His expression soured. “his father.”

At this, Thalina’s face suddenly crumpled her whole body tensed.

A strange, quiet stillness settled over her small frame, her hands tightening on Telemachus’s tunic. Her golden eyes, usually so bright and curious, darkened, filling with something heavy.

Then, before anyone could ask her what was wrong, she let out a loud, shuddering wail.

It was piercing, raw, so sudden that a few people in the market turned to look, startled by the sound coming from such a tiny body.
Telemachus’s heart lurched. “Thalina?” He immediately tried to soothe her, shifting his hold to rock her gently against his chest, his voice lowering into a calming tone. “Hey, hey, it’s okay. What’s wrong?”

But Thalina only sobbed harder.

Her little chest heaved with the force of her
Not the fussy, sleepy sort of crying that children sometimes did. No, this was deep, guttural, filled with distress her tiny claws digging into his chiton as she trembled against him. The marketplace around them suddenly felt suffocating, the distant chatter of merchants drowned out by the desperation in Thalina’s sobs.

Mahdokht, clearly startled, hesitated for only a moment before stepping forward, reaching out with careful hands. “Here, let me” she said gently, taking the crying nymph from Telemachus’s arms.

Normally, Thalina hated being taken from Telemachus or Antinous but this time, she let Mahdokht cradle her, her tiny body shaking as she buried her face against the older woman’s chest, her sobs not stopping.

Mahdokht frowned, adjusting her hold, her voice warm and soothing as she ran her fingers through Thalina’s soft hair. “Shhh, little one. What is wrong?” she murmured, gently swaying her.

But Thalina didn’t calm down.

Instead, she fought not to get away, but as if she were trying to make herself smaller. Her little hands gripped Mahdokht’s shawl so tightly that her knuckles turned pale. “Mr. Lion is with his dad!” she sobbed.

Mahdokht blinked, tilting her head in confusion. “Yes, dear,” she said, still rubbing small circles on her back. “Why does that upset you so?”

Thalina hiccupped through her sobs, clenching her tiny fists. “He makes Mr. Lion sad!” she wailed. “Won’t want him to marry Mr. Wolf!”

The words sent a shockwave through Telemachus.

His entire body stiffened.

It felt like the wind had been knocked out of him. The weight of Thalina’s sobs suddenly felt too real, too heavy.

Before he could react, he instinctively reached forward, his hands gentle but urgent as he tried to take her back. “Thalina, sweetheart,” he said quickly, trying to force calm into his voice. “That’s not”

But Mahdokht sidestepped him.

Still holding the trembling nymph close, she turned her gaze sharp, perceptive toward Thalina.

What do you mean, little one?” she asked gently.

Thalina sniffled, wiping at her eyes with tiny fists before clinging to Mahdokht again. “Mean man! Mean!” she hiccupped, her ears flared like that of a frilled lizard. “Makes Mr. Lion sad! He won’t want Wolf if he’s sad!”

Mahdokht froze.

Her eyes widened slightly as she looked at the little girl sobbing in her arms.

It was obvious that she was confused, confused as to why this little creature, who had never even met her husband, was so terrified at the mere mention of him.

Telemachus watched, feeling his heart pound in his chest. He wasn’t sure if it was because of Thalina’s words or the way Mahdokht was looking at her now like she was starting to realize something.

The weight of the moment hung thick in the air, the sounds of the bustling marketplace feeling distant, as if the world had narrowed down to just them.Telemachus saw recognition flicker in Mahdokht’s eyes.

And it scared him

Mahdokht’s arms tightened slightly around Thalina, a deep crease forming between her brows. Slowly, her gaze drifted from the sobbing little nymph to Telemachus, something unreadable flickering behind her dark eyes.
Recognition.
Realization.
Understanding.
She blinked, her expression shifting from confusion to something softer, something more knowing.

“Wolf…” she murmured, almost to herself, as if testing the word on her tongue.

Telemachus stiffened.

His throat went dry as Mahdokht continued to look at him, really look at him, her grip on Thalina tightening ever so slightly as if piecing something together.

Asteria, who had been watching the whole exchange in silence, suddenly straightened, her own eyes widening just a fraction as she, too, connected the dots. And although she had already known about the engagement, and to see a child so distressed, it reminded her of her elder brother when their father would yank him by his ears till they bled.She cradled her bump.

Telemachus felt something stir uncomfortably in his chest. His fingers curled slightly at his sides.

Then, softly, Mahdokht asked, “You are the wolf, aren’t you?”

Her voice was barely above a whisper, but it hit him like a blow to the gut.
Telemachus opened his mouth, instinctively searching for some kind of response some clever quip or an easy deflection some kind of lie that he wasn’t the one that was being talked about but nothing came out. His voice failed him.

Mahdokht tilted her head ever so slightly, watching him carefully.

Thalina sniffled against her, curling tighter into her arms, her ears still twitching and flaring with distress.

The silence stretched between them.

Finally, Telemachus exhaled, his shoulders relaxing just slightly as he forced himself to meet Mahdokht’s gaze head on.

“Yes,” he admitted.

The word hung in the air, heavy with meaning.

Mahdokht inhaled slowly, glancing down at Thalina, who was still wiping at her tear streaked cheeks with tiny clawed fingers.

Then, something gentle flickered across her face.

Something that Telemachus had not been expecting.
Not judgment, or the expected disbelief and disgust. Just understanding and a look of love.
She gave a small, knowing smile and murmured, “Well he did always love his wolf pelt as a child no surprise she should love a wolf as an adult.”

Telemachus blinked, caught off guard by her words.

Asteria let out a short, breathy laugh, shaking her head as if she couldn’t believe what she was hearing.

Even Thalina peeked up from Mahdokht’s shoulder, her golden eyes still watery, but now filled with curiosity.

Telemachus felt his lips twitch, an unexpected warmth creeping into his chest.

Mahdokht simply gave him a look one that was soft, but knowing before glancing back down at Thalina, gently wiping the remaining tears from her tiny face. She cradled Thalina gently in her arms, her expression unreadable as she observed the prince.
Telemachus could feel her looking at him, the weight of her gaze pressing against his profile, yet she said nothing at first. She simply studied him, as if turning over something in her mind.

Then, in a voice so soft it barely rose above the hum of the market, she asked, “Do you love my son?”

The question was asked so simply, so gently, yet it struck him with the force of a battle call sounding before war.

He turned his head slightly, meeting Mahdokht’s gaze. There was no hostility there, no challenge only quiet curiosity. A mother searching for an answer.

Telemachus inhaled deeply, his grip tightening ever so slightly on the basket he carried. His voice, when he finally spoke, was steady. Certain.

“More than life itself.”

Mahdokht’s eyes flickered with something perhaps surprise, perhaps something deeper but she did not interrupt.
Telemachus swallowed, exhaling sharply before continuing, his voice gaining fervor with every word.
“I would slay a thousand men for him.” His fingers curled around the woven basket handle. “I would let my kingdom crumble to dust. I would renounce my title, my status, my riches, and everything I have ever known before I would even consider relenting my love for him.”

The words tumbled from his lips like a vow, unshaken, unwavering.

Her full attention was on him and his on her, Asteria who had been watching the whole thing looked at them almost as if sensing the shift in the air.

Mahdokht held Telemachus’s gaze, her dark eyes unreadable. There was something distant in them something like longing, like a dream remembered from a time long gone.

Then, after what felt like an eternity, she smiled.

It was soft. It was small.

But it was real.

Slowly, she reached out, her hand hovering just for a moment before pressing lightly over Telemachus’s heart. Her fingers, scarred from years of labor, were gentle as they rested against the fabric of his tunic.

“You speak as if you would burn the world for him,” she murmured.

Telemachus did not flinch.

“I would.”

Mahdokht studied him for a moment longer, then let out a quiet, breathy laugh. It was almost sad. Almost relieved.

“I believe you,” she whispered.

And with that, she turned Looking down at the child in her arms.
“Well then, my dear little nymph,” she said, voice light. “Shall we make sure Mr. Lion has no reason to be sad?”

Thalina sniffled again, but after a moment, she gave a tiny, determined nod.

Telemachus let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding, rubbing the back of his neck.

Asteria smirked at him. “Looks like you’ve got Mama’s approval,” she teased.

Telemachus huffed, shaking his head, but he couldn’t fight the relief that settled in his chest.

Chapter Text

Antinous sat stiffly across from his father, his expression carefully neutral, though the sharp edge in his eyes betrayed his simmering irritation. Klytos lounged in a chair in the corner, arms crossed, silently observing the exchange with the patience of a man who had already braced himself for the inevitable storm.

Across from him, his father Eupeithes regarded him with the same cold scrutiny he always had, like he was a puzzle piece that never quite fit right. A piece that should have been cut differently.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity of silence, Eupeithes scoffed and said, “I see you’re still wearing earrings like a woman.”

Antinous barely flinched, but his fingers twitched instinctively reaching up to brush against the earrings that adorned his ears. The ones Telemachus had given him. His hand hovered there for only a fraction of a second before he caught himself, forcing it back down into his lap.

He exhaled slowly, steadying himself. His expression didn’t change as he said, voice smooth and measured, “I was given a gift.” He tilted his head slightly, his gaze locking onto his father’s. “And wouldn’t it dishonor the gods to refuse what we are given?”

His words were deliberate.

Pointed.

And Klytos who had spent years observing and navigating the volatile currents of this family recognized the trap the moment it was laid.

Antinous wasn’t just talking about the earrings.

No, this was something far more calculated.

Eupeithes had spent years enforcing his interpretation of piety. He had stripped Mahdokht of her name, denied her the gods of her homeland, and commanded obedience under the guise of divine order. If he challenged Antinous now if he scoffed at the idea that refusing a gift was an offense to the gods then he would be contradicting himself. Undermining the very principles he had wielded as a weapon for so long.

A sharp silence followed.

Eupeithes clenched his jaw, his fingers tightening around the arms of his chair.

Klytos, still in the corner, suppressed a smirk. He saw the checkmate before Eupeithes even realized he had been played.

Antinous, for his part, merely leaned back slightly, his posture relaxed despite the battle of wills unfolding before them.

He had spent his whole life playing his father’s game. And now, he was winning.

Eupeithes’ jaw remained clenched, his nostrils flaring slightly as he exhaled through his nose. He was furious Antinous could see it in the way his father’s hands gripped the arms of his chair, in the rigid line of his shoulders slightly hunched. But he wouldn’t take the bait, wouldn’t contradict the argument Antinous had so neatly laid before him.
Instead, he pivoted. With a scoff, Eupeithes leaned back, arms folding across his chest. “Enough with the games. Your childish defiance has gone on long enough.” His eyes narrowed, his lip curling slightly. “You’ve spent years wasting time, acting like a man without responsibilities. But you’re not a boy anymore, Antinous. The queen is no longer an option, and it’s time you start looking for a wife.”

Antinous froze.

For a moment, it was as if the words didn’t quite register. Not because they were unexpected his father had made his opinions on Antinous’s duty perfectly clear for as long as he could remember but because of the sheer, casual audacity of it.
Like Eupeithes truly believed that Antinous had spent years groveling for Penelope’s favor. That he was still grasping at the scraps of a future that had never once crossed his mind.

Antinous didn’t even blink before responding, his voice as dry as the sands of Persia. “Oh, you’re right. I should simply walk out the door, find some poor woman, and tell her she’s my wife now. I’m sure that’ll go over well.”

Klytos snorted from the corner, poorly masking his amusement behind a cough.

Eupeithes, however, was not amused. “Watch your tone,” he snapped, his voice sharp as a blade. “I won’t tolerate that insolence.”

Antinous tilted his head slightly, his expression unimpressed. “And yet, here we are.”

Eupeithes’ scowl deepened. “Enough, Antinous. You are my son, my only son. You will marry, and you will produce an heir. You owe that to your family.”

Antinous exhaled through his nose, his grip on the arms of his chair tightening slightly.

He should have expected this. Of course, his father would demand something like this would try to use duty and family as a leash, as if Antinous hadn’t spent his entire life being told he was a failure of a son. As if the very idea of continuing Eupeithes’ bloodline wasn’t enough to make his stomach churn.

He almost laughed.

Almost.

Instead, he leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, and met his father’s gaze head on. “And tell me, father,” he said smoothly, tilting his head in mock curiosity, “who exactly am I supposed to marry?”

Eupeithes scoffed. “There are plenty of noblewomen”

“And yet,” Antinous cut him off, his smirk sharp as a dagger, “you don’t have a name ready.”

Another silence.

Eupeithes’ fingers twitched against the chair’s arm.

Got you.

Antinous leaned back again, stretching his legs out in front of him with casual ease. “Perhaps I’ll take my time, then,” he mused. “Make sure I pick the right woman.” He flicked his gaze toward Klytos, his grin widening just slightly. “Wouldn’t want to rush into something and end up miserable, after all, I’d hate for my wife to fear me and my children to hate me.”

Klytos smirked.

Eupeithes, on the other hand, looked positively murderous.

Antinous knew this wasn’t the end of the conversation. But for now, he had bought himself time.

And when the time came to really shut his father up Well his brother im law is an amazing craftsman and a ring for Telemachus’ finger will be easy to acquire.
Eupeithes’s nostrils flared, his knuckles turning white where his fingers gripped the arms of his chair. Antinous watched him with a quiet patience, his head tilting just slightly as if daring him to argue.

For once in his life, Eupeithes said nothing.
The silence was almost satisfying.
Almost.

Klytos, who had remained silent up until now, let out a low chuckle, breaking the tension just enough. He shifted in his chair, one arm draped lazily over the backrest as he gave Eupeithes a slow, knowing grin.

“He’s got you there, you need to have someone in mind if you want to demand your son get married” Klytos remarked, his voice entirely too casual.

Eupeithes shot him a sharp glare, but Klytos didn’t so much as flinch. He was used to dealing with men like him men who wielded their authority like a weapon and expected the world to bow under it. But Eupeithes wasn’t in his own home. Not anymore.

Antinous let the silence linger for another few beats before finally exhaling and rising to his feet. He stretched his arms above his head, as if shaking off the tension that had settled in his bones, and then dusted off his chiton with deliberate ease.

“Well,” he said, his tone light, almost mocking, “it’s been lovely catching up, Father.” His lips curled into a slow, sharp grin. “But I’d rather be anywhere else.”

Eupeithes’s eyes darkened, his jaw locking into place. “You walk away from me so easily,” he muttered, low and bitter.

Antinous’s grin didn’t waver. If anything, it grew sharper.

“That’s the thing about me, Father,” he said smoothly. “I was never meant to stay.”

And with that, he turned on his heel, striding out of the room without so much as a backward glance.

Klytos watched him go, then let out a low whistle, shaking his head in mild amusement. He stood as well, taking his time as he passed Eupeithes, who still sat in seething silence.

“You know,” Klytos mused, pausing just long enough to smirk down at him, “for a man who always wanted his son to be strong, and was so angry for him having any feminine attributes you sure do hate it when he stands his ground.”
Then he, too, left the room.

Leaving Eupeithes alone with nothing but the weight of his own silence.

Chapter Text

Klytos stood by the kitchen counter, sharpening one of his tools with slow, deliberate strokes. The warm scent of stew simmering on the stove filled the air, but the atmosphere between the two men was heavier than the comforting aroma suggested.

Antinous sat at the small wooden table, arms crossed, staring down at his hands. His usual sharp edged grin was nowhere to be seen. Instead, his expression was distant, his eyes clouded with something Klytos couldn’t quite place.

“You alright?” Klytos finally asked, voice steady but gentle.

Antinous let out a quiet scoff, running a hand through his curls. “Not really.”

Klytos set his tool down, leaning against the counter as he studied the younger man. “Want to talk about it?”

For a moment, Antinous didn’t respond. Then, with a slow inhale, he pulled his hair back, tucking it behind his ear. “See this?” he asked, tapping the large, jagged scar where the ear met his head.

Klytos frowned, stepping closer. He had noticed the scar before but never thought to ask about it. Now, seeing it up close, he realized how deep it must have run, how painful it must have been.

Antinous exhaled sharply through his nose, his fingers briefly tracing the scar before dropping to the table. “My father used to get so mad at me that he’d grab me by the ear and lift me off the ground,” he said, voice flat, detached. “Held me there until the skin tore.”

Klytos’s grip tightened against the counter.

Antinous chuckled dryly, but there was no humor in it. “You know what my crime was?” He tilted his head slightly, looking at Klytos with something bitter in his eyes. “I told him I wanted to marry a man.”

Klytos inhaled sharply, his stomach twisting.

Antinous shrugged, the movement stiff. “I was seven.”

The room was silent.

Klytos clenched his jaw, forcing himself to speak through the fury clawing at his chest. “That bastard.”

Antinous let out a slow breath, leaning back in his chair, eyes on the ceiling. “Yeah,” he muttered. “That bastard.”

Klytos was quiet for a long moment before pushing away from the counter and walking over to the table. Without hesitation, he sat down across from Antinous, resting his forearms against the wood.

“You know,” Klytos said, voice steady, “I don’t think I’ve ever told you this, but when Asteria and I were first married, I made her a promise.”

Antinous lifted an eyebrow, but he didn’t speak.

Klytos continued, his gaze unwavering. “I told her that no matter what, as long as I was breathing, she’d never have to fear another man. Not me. Not her father. Not anyone.”

Antinous swallowed.

Klytos exhaled, leaning slightly closer. “That promise applies to you, too.”

Antinous blinked at him, caught off guard.

“I don’t care if he’s your father,” Klytos went on, voice firm. “If he ever lays a hand on you again, I’ll break every bone in his body.”

Antinous let out a short, breathless laugh, shaking his head. “You’d go against him for me?”

Klytos tilted his head. “You’re my family, aren’t you?”

Antinous stared at him for a long moment, something unreadable passing through his expression.

Then, finally, he looked away, exhaling a quiet, almost relieved chuckle. “You’re a good man, Klytos,” he muttered.

Klytos smirked slightly. “I try.”

Antinous huffed, shaking his head before reaching for the cup of wine in front of him. “Well,” he muttered, “I hope you’re ready, because I don’t think the bastard is going to make this visit easy.”

Klytos leaned back in his chair, arms crossed. “Let him try.”

And for the first time that night, Antinous found himself truly smiling.

Klytos leaned back in his chair, rubbing his chin thoughtfully as he studied Antinous. The fire in the hearth crackled softly, filling the kitchen with a warm glow, but there was something else in the air now a shift in the conversation, an unspoken question lingering between them.

“So,” Klytos started, drawing out the word slightly. “You and the prince…”

Antinous didn’t even hesitate. “Yep,” he said simply, lifting his wine cup to his lips. “We’re engaged.”

Klytos exhaled through his nose, nodding. “I thought so.”

Antinous raised an eyebrow at him. “Did Asteria already blab?”

Klytos chuckled. “No. But when I got that letter from him asking for earrings, I had a feeling.” He smirked slightly, shaking his head. “At first, I thought, alright, maybe he just wants a gift for a friend. But then” He gestured toward Antinous with his cup. “then he sent a drawing. And gems.”

Antinous blinked. “A drawing?”

Klytos nodded. “A whole detailed sketch of what he wanted, down to the exact shape of the wolf and the size of the crescent moon. It wasn’t some vague idea. He knew exactly what he wanted, and he was willing to pay whatever it took to make it perfect.” He took a sip of his drink before adding, “You don’t spend that kind of time and money on someone you don’t care for.”

Antinous stared at him, lips parting slightly. He hadn’t known that part. He’d assumed Telemachus had just asked for a wolf because of his nickname not that he had designed the earrings himself.

Klytos smirked at his reaction. “And then,” he continued, “when Asteria told me you’d gotten some earrings recently, that’s when I knew.”

Antinous let out a slow breath, shaking his head. “Gods,” he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. “He’s ridiculous.”

Klytos chuckled. “Yeah. But so are you.”

Antinous huffed but didn’t argue. Instead, he ran a thumb absently over the earring in his left ear, his mind still lingering on the image of Telemachus meticulously sketching out every detail, handpicking every gem.

He really was all in, wasn’t he?

A small, lopsided smile tugged at the corner of his lips. “Yeah,” he muttered, mostly to himself. “I guess we both are.”

Antinous took another slow sip of his wine, his mind racing with a sudden thought. He turned toward Klytos, his fingers absentmindedly grazing over the earring in his left ear. The warmth of the kitchen, the silence it all felt oddly grounding in this moment.

“Klytos,” he said, his voice quieter, more serious now. “I want to get him a ring.”

Klytos looked up from his cup, his expression shifting slightly, his keen blacksmith’s eyes already calculating possibilities. “A ring?” he repeated.

Antinous nodded. “Yeah. And” He hesitated for a moment, then exhaled, running a hand through his hair. “I have a set of my grandfather’s earrings. They’re old, but the gold is still good. If I were to give them to you, do you think you could melt them down and shape them into a ring? A lion’s head, with the gems as the eyes?”

Klytos’s eyebrows rose, and then, slowly, a smile stretched across his face. “You want to make his ring out of something from your family?”

Antinous shifted in his seat. “My mother’s side,” he clarified. “Not his,” he added with a sneer, referring to his father. “But yeah.”

Klytos let out a low chuckle, shaking his head. “You’re more sentimental than you let on.”

“Shut up,” Antinous muttered, but there was no real heat to it.

Klytos leaned back in his chair, studying him for a moment before nodding. “Of course I can do it. I’d be honored, actually. A lion’s head, you said?”

Antinous nodded. “Yeah. Something strong, something unmistakable. Something that suits him.”

Klytos hummed thoughtfully not commenting on the fact that lion was what Thalina called Antinous, he was already picturing the design in his mind. “And the gems? What are they?”

“Brown sapphire ,” Antinous said. “For the eyes.”

Klytos grinned. “So it’ll be like he’s got your eyes watching over him.”

Antinous rolled his eyes. “That’s not!” He stopped himself, realizing there was no point in arguing. Klytos wasn’t wrong, after all. He shook his head, a small smirk playing on his lips. “Just make it look good.”

Klytos gave him a knowing look, raising his cup in a mock toast. “It’ll be the best damn ring Ithaca has ever seen.”

Antinous let out a short chuckle, shaking his head. “Good. He deserves it.”

Chapter Text

Telemachus was only half aware of his surroundings. He was far more interested in the two women walking beside him Asteria and Mahdokht who, for the past several minutes, had been happily answering all of his questions about Antinous.

“So,” he said, adjusting the basket in his arms, “was he always so…charming?” The sarcasm in his voice was unmistakable.

Asteria let out a loud laugh. “Oh, gods, no! When he was younger, he was the grumpiest little thing you’d ever meet.”

Mahdokht smiled fondly, adjusting the folds of her shawl as she walked. “He was a quiet child, very serious. He hardly smiled unless he was with me or one of his sisters.”

Telemachus arched a brow. “Really? Because now he acts like he’s incapable of not smirking.”

Asteria snorted. “That’s because he’s learned how to weaponize it. Trust me, there was a time when he was all scowls and sulking. He was so dramatic every little thing was the end of the world. If he lost a game, he’d disappear into the garden for hours, I would be like mama where is big brother and she would just say he is having his garden time”

Mahdokht laughed softly at the memory. “Oh yes, and he’d always pretend he meant to lose. He hated showing any kind of weakness.”

Telemachus smirked. “That definitely sounds like him.”

Mahdokht’s expression softened. “But he was also incredibly gentle. He loved animals. He used to bring home injured birds and stray kittens all the time, even though his father disapproved. And he adored music he would sit by the fire at night and listen to the lyre for hours.” She sighed wistfully. “I haven’t heard him play in years”

Telemachus blinked in surprise. “Wait! he plays?”

Asteria grinned. “Oh, he used to! He’s actually very good.”

Telemachus narrowed his eyes. “So, you’re telling me that Antinous the same Antinous who threatened to drown me in the sea for waking him up too early just last week, used to be a sensitive little boy who played the lyre and saved kittens!?”

Mahdokht and Asteria exchanged an amused glance before nodding in unison.

Telemachus shook his head in disbelief. “I don’t even know what to do with this information.”

Asteria smirked. “Use it against him, obviously.”

Mahdokht playfully swatted her daughter’s arm. “Asteria.”

“What?” Asteria grinned, clearly enjoying herself. “I’m just saying, if I had known my elder brother was going to grow up into such a menace, I would’ve kept so much more blackmail material.”

Telemachus laughed, shaking his head. “Oh, this is very good to know.”

Mahdokht smiled at him warmly. “I’m glad he has you, Telemachus.”

The words caught him off guard, and he turned to her, his teasing demeanor softening. “I’m glad I have him, too.”

Asteria sighed dramatically, throwing an arm around both of them as they walked. “Alright, enough sentimentality. Now, what do we think? Should we get some more thread? Or should we start picking out wedding gifts for my big brother?”

Telemachus groaned. “By the gods, please don’t start with that.”

Mahdokht simply chuckled, linking arms with him and glancing down at Thalina who had managed to wrap herself up in Mahdokht shawl and was also draped around her neck as they continued down the market streets, talking and laughing the whole way.

Chapter Text

Antinous leaned against the wooden counter, idly running his fingers along the edge of his cup, while Klytos stirred the pot of stew simmering over the fire.
“So,” Klytos asked, glancing at Antinous with a slight grin. “How did you know you liked men?”

Antinous let out a chuckle, shaking his head. “Getting right in there are we?” Klytos nodded and Antinous just grinned “that’s an easy one. I was six.”

Klytos raised an eyebrow. “That young?”

Antinous smirked. “Oh, yeah. My father ever the devoted patriarch decided it was time I started showing interest in girls. So, he made me go over and talk to this girl down the street. I think he was hoping to get something started between us, even though I was barely old enough to tie my sandals properly.”

Klytos snorted.

Antinous continued, “Her mother invited me inside, probably knowing what an asshole my father was. And well i have never turned down free food, so I went in. The girl was nice enough we talked, shared some honeyed nuts but then her older brother came in.”

Klytos’s lips twitched. “Oh?”

Antinous grinned, eyes slightly distant as he recalled the memory. “He had been outside chopping wood, chest completely bare obviously because, you know, fate hates me. He came in all sweaty and grinning and ruffled my hair like I was a little kid.”

Klytos chuckled. “Weren’t you a little kid?”

Antinous scoffed. “Irrelevant. The important thing is, the moment he did that, I wanted to die. I think I just sat there, staring at him, probably bright red, completely stricken.”

Klytos let out a hearty laugh. “A six year old Antinous with a major crush gods, I wish I could’ve seen that.”

Antinous sighed dramatically, shaking his head. “It was all downhill from there.”

Klytos smirked. “So that was it? That was the moment?”

Antinous shrugged. “More or less. I knew something was different about me compared to the other boys my age. While they were talking about how pretty the girls in town were, I was sitting there, thinking about how strong their older brothers were.”

Klytos shook his head in amusement. “And your father never figured it out?”

Antinous let out a humorless chuckle. “Oh, he figured it out alright. By the time I was seven, he had already started beating it out of me.”

The room went quiet for a moment. Klytos’s grip tightened on the wooden spoon he was using to stir the pot, his knuckles briefly turning white.
“Bastard,” he muttered under his breath.

Antinous shrugged, but there was something in his posture something a little too casual, too detached. “It is what it is.”

Klytos exhaled heavily through his nose but didn’t press further. Instead, he turned the conversation around. “And what about Telemachus? When did you realize he was the one?”

Antinous gave a wry smile. “Would you believe me if I said after we started threatening each other’s lives?”

Klytos chuckled. “Honestly? Knowing you? Yes.”

Antinous sighed. “I don’t know. It was a slow thing, creeping up on me when I wasn’t looking. One day, he was just the prince the boy I had to tolerate. And then, somehow, he became the only person I wanted to be around. The only one who could make me laugh, piss me off, and make me feel safe all at the same time.” He paused, a small, fond smile tugging at his lips. “Now, I can’t imagine my life without him.”

Klytos nodded, a knowing look in his eyes. “Yeah. I get that.”

Antinous turned to him with a curious tilt of his head. “And what about you? How did you know you liked my sister?”

At that, Klytos grinned, setting the spoon down and crossing his arms. “Oh, that’s easy. Since the second time I met her.”

Antinous raised a brow. “Not the first?”

Klytos shook his head. “The first time I ever met Asteria, she was four almost five. You were what? Seven? Eight?”

Antinous nodded, following along.

Klytos continued, “She came running out of your house sobbing just wailing and I was standing outside my uncle’s workshop. I was seven, but I was already huge, and people thought I was some terrifying monster of a child. So when this tiny, weeping girl ran straight into me, I expected her to scream and run the other way.”

Antinous smirked. “Let me guess she didn’t.”

Klytos grinned. “Nope. She just blinked up at me with those big, watery eyes, still sniffling, and grabbed onto my hand like I was supposed to fix whatever was wrong.”

Antinous snorted. “Sounds like her.”

Klytos nodded. “I had no clue what to do. But I figured food fixes everything, so I took her into my uncle’s shop, gave her some sweet figs, and played with her some.

Antinous raised a brow. “And that was it?”

Klytos smiled. “Not quite. That night, when it was time for her to go home, I thought, ‘Well, I made a friend today.’ But the next day, I saw her with your mother and sisters at the river. And the moment she spotted me, she ran up to me and handed me a flower.”

Antinous’s lips twitched. “She always did things like that.”

Klytos nodded. “Yeah. But that was the moment I knew. I knew I was going to marry her.”

Antinous huffed a laugh, shaking his head. “You were seven.”

Klytos smirked. “And?”

Antinous sighed dramatically “you and my sister are such saps!”
Klytos laughed. “Welcome to the club, brother!

“You know,” Antinous started again, his voice almost casual, but there was an undercurrent of something heavier beneath it. “The day you met my sister the day she ran out of the house crying? I think that was the day I told my father I wanted to marry a man.”

Klytos tilted his head slightly, brow furrowing. “Really?”

Antinous nodded, still tracing invisible patterns on the table. “Yeah. That had to be the day. Dad beating on me and Mom wasn’t anything new, but what was new was the blood.”

Klytos straightened slightly, his grip on his arms tightening, but he didn’t say anything yet, just let Antinous keep going.

Antinous let out a humorless chuckle, tapping his fingers lightly against the table. “He grabbed me by the ear, like he always did when he was pissed, but this time, I he pulled too hard. I remember the pain, being lifted in the air and then the sharp and sudden pain happend and I remember the warmth blood trickling down my neck. I didn’t even realize what had happened at first then Mom screamed. And Asteria ” He huffed, shaking his head. “Asteria saw the blood and lost it.”

Klytos’s expression darkened, his jaw tightening. “That was why she was crying,” he murmured, more to himself than to Antinous.

“Yeah.” Antinous exhaled sharply. “I always assumed it scared her seeing me like that. I mean, I was a kid but she was an even younger kid. She probably didn’t understand what had happened, just that there was blood and that it was bad.”

Klytos was silent for a long moment, his fingers tapping rhythmically against his arm as he absorbed the weight of Antinous’s words. Then, with a deep breath, he spoke. “You know I always wondered why she looked so damn sad that day. She ran right into me, and I remember thinking, ‘What could make a little girl look that broken? How could anyone allow any pain to come to such a gorgeous creature’” He let out a heavy sigh. “Turns out, it was her bastard father ripping her brother apart.”

Antinous scoffed, but there was no humor in it. “Yeah, well, what else is new?”

Klytos ran a hand through his hair, shaking his head. “That’s the part I don’t get, though. Your father he acts like he’s so obsessed with appearances, with tradition, with honor, with control. But what kind of man does that to his own son and still thinks he’s in the right?”

Antinous shrugged, leaning back in his chair. “The kind of man who cares more about his pride than his family.” His fingers absently brushed against his earring the one Telemachus had given him. He let out a slow breath. “You know, I spent years thinking that if I just did what he wanted, if I just shut up and fell in line, maybe he’d stop hating me so much.”

Klytos scoffed. “And did it work?”

Antinous gave him a flat look. “Obviously not.”

Klytos sighed. “And now?”

Antinous was quiet for a moment, staring at the small flickering flame of the lamp on the table. Then, he shook his head. “Now, I just don’t care anymore. He can hate me all he wants. I have Asteria. I have my other sisters.” He smiles widely “I have Telemachus. Plus the other members of the royal family seems to like me, I mean Odysseus treats me like a son”

A smirk played on his lips, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “And if he ever touches me again, I’ll make sure he regrets it.”

Klytos studied him for a moment, then nodded, pushing away from the counter. “Good.” He walked over and clapped a hand on Antinous’s shoulder, squeezing briefly before stepping back. “Because if you didn’t make him regret it, I would.”

Antinous snorted, shaking his head. “Careful, Klytos. People might start thinking you actually like me.”

Klytos smirked. “I think your a slippery one but I enjoy your company”

Antinous chuckled, the tension in his shoulders easing just a fraction. “I’ll take it.”

Chapter Text

Asteria, ever the curious sister, turned to Telemachus with a sly smile. “So, Telemachus,” she said casually, though there was mischief in her tone, “how long have you known that you liked boys?”

Telemachus blinked at the question, then shrugged with a small grin. “Well, I like girls too.”

Asteria raised an eyebrow. “Oh?”

He smirked. “Yeah, gender doesn’t really matter much to me. If someone’s hot and nice, then they’re hot and nice.”

Mahdokht let out a soft chuckle at his bluntness, while Asteria’s curiosity only grew. “So, when did you figure that out?”

Telemachus tapped his chin in thought. “I think I was thirteen? I remember seeing a girl and thinking, ‘Oh, she’s pretty.’ And then I saw her brother and thought, ‘Oh, he’s pretty too!’”

Asteria snorted. “So if you had met one of my sisters first, there was a chance you’d have been attracted to them?”

Telemachus shook his head, a smirk tugging at his lips. “No, no, no.” He rubbed the back of his neck, glancing away as a faint blush crept up his ears. “To me, Antinous is the prettiest of them all.”

Asteria let out a bark of laughter. “Now that is something I never thought I’d hear about my pain inthe ass brother.”

Mahdokht, who had been quietly observing their exchange, smiled warmly at Telemachus. “It’s clear that you love him,” she said softly.

Telemachus’s blush deepened, but he didn’t deny it. Instead, his grin turned just a little wicked. “And besides…I like when he playfully threatens to kill me.”

Asteria raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. “What?”

Mahdokht looked surprised but intrigued, while Thalina, who had been clutching Telemachus’s hand as they walked, perked up at the mention of Antinous’s name.

Telemachus laughed. “I don’t think any of your sisters would do that to me, but Antinous? He’ll say things like, ‘I’ll kill you if you do that again,’ and then he gets this smug little look…” He mimicked Antinous’s expression, lifting his chin slightly, half lidding his eyes, and crossing his arms dramatically.

Mahdokht chuckled softly. “So, my son makes threats like that?”

Telemachus smirked. “You’d be surprised, but when he does it, it’s kind of endearing.”

Asteria shook her head, grinning. “You are either very brave or very stupid.”

“I’d like to think it’s a bit of both,” Telemachus said cheekily.

Before Asteria could reply, Thalina,looking at him Her big, golden eyes blinked up at him with an innocent curiosity. “Mr. Lion is pretty too, right?” she asked, tilting her head.

Telemachus chuckled, scooping her up into his arms. “Yes, little one, Mr. Lion is very pretty,” he confirmed, pressing a quick kiss to her forehead.

Thalina beamed, satisfied with the answer.

Mahdokht watched them with a fond smile, her eyes flickering with something deeper an understanding that her son had found someone who adored him for exactly who he was.

As they continued through the market, chatting and laughing, Telemachus couldn’t help but feel a sense of warmth settle in his chest. He wasn’t just falling deeper in love with Antinous; he was finding a family in the people who had shaped him.

Chapter Text

10 The group arrived back at the house just as the sun was beginning to set, painting the sky in soft hues of orange and pink. Klytos, ever the doting husband, immediately took Asteria’s bags from her hands, leaning down to press a soft kiss to her forehead before rubbing her growing belly with a fond smile. Asteria rolled her eyes but grinned, swatting at his arm playfully.

Meanwhile, Antinous stepped forward, effortlessly grabbing the baskets from both Telemachus and Mahdokht. “I’ve got it,” he said with ease like they weighed nothing.

As they stepped inside, Thalina, who had been napping curled around Mahdokht’s shoulders, stirred awake. Blinking groggily, her golden eyes darted around the room before landing on Antinous. The moment she spotted him, her entire face lit up, and with surprising agility for someone who had just woken up, she leaped onto his back with a delighted squeal.

Antinous barely flinched, his arms steadying her with practiced ease. “Hi, Thalina,” he said with an amused smirk, reaching back slightly to ruffle her hair. “Did you have fun?”

Thalina nodded eagerly, then paused, her little finned ears twitching as she leaned up, cupping her tiny hands around his ear to whisper, “Are you okay, Mr. Lion?”

For a brief moment, Antinous stilled. The little nymph had a way of seeing through him, sensing things others might overlook, but he wasn’t about to worry her.

He smiled, gently prying her from his back and settling her into the crook of his arm. “I’m okay,” he murmured reassuringly.

Thalina beamed at that, nuzzling into his chest before yawning widely. “Good,” she mumbled sleepily.

Later that evening, the entire household gathered at the dinner table, the warm glow of lanterns illuminating the space. The conversation was pleasant at first Asteria talking about the baby, Mahdokht laughing softly at one of Klytos’s dry remarks but the atmosphere shifted when Eupeithes, who had been mostly silent until now, suddenly cleared his throat.

“My prince,” he said, his tone slow and measured, “I couldn’t help but notice that you are twenty years old of marriageable age and yet, you are still single.”

The entire table went tense.

Telemachus, ever composed, put on his most diplomatic smile, though there was a glint of mischief in his green eyes. “Well, actually, I am engaged,” he said smoothly, picking up his goblet and taking a slow sip.

Asteria’s brows shot up, while Mahdokht’s grip on her utensils tightened ever so slightly. Eupeithes, however, didn’t seem fazed, merely giving an approving nod. “Ah, an engagement. A wise decision.” He leaned forward slightly. “And who, may I ask, is the lucky young lady?”

Telemachus set his goblet down, tilting his head as if in thought. “Oh, they are amazing,” he began, his voice light and casual. “Kind, sweet, funny, clever, and ” his gaze flickered to Antinous, watching as a faint blush started creeping up his fiancé’s neck “loving.”

With every word, Antinous’s face grew redder, his hand gripping his fork so tightly his knuckles were turning white. Telemachus, of course, only grinned wider.

Eupeithes, however, didn’t notice the way his son was practically burning beside him. Instead, he merely nodded in approval, but his brow furrowed slightly. “And why, then, has there been no official announcement? A royal engagement is not something to keep secret.”

Telemachus’s grin widened. “Ah, well, you see, our love is somewhat forbidden.”

Asteria stiffened. Klytos subtly glanced toward Antinous, who was now staring intensely at his plate like it might save him. Mahdokht’s expression grew concerned.

Eupeithes, still oblivious, scoffed slightly. “Forbidden? How so?”

Telemachus, ever the performer, let out a dramatic sigh, shaking his head. “My family is fine with it, of course. And so is most of their family. But unfortunately, their father is just an awful person, like truly awful like im surprised that they haven’t been murdered with how shitty of a person he is.”

The tension at the table became suffocating.

Eupeithes, entirely unaware that he was the father in question, clicked his tongue in disapproval, putting on his best performance of false sympathy. “That is truly unfortunate,” he said, shaking his head. “It must be difficult for them.”

Antinous had to grip his own thigh digging his nails in, to stop himself from slamming his head into the table.

Asteria nearly choked on her drink, turning her face away to stifle a laugh. Klytos subtly nudged her, silently warning her not to react at least for her brothers sake , while Mahdokht looked between Telemachus and Antinous but loving her son and having enjoyed her day with her future on in law she chose to stay silent.

Antinous was about five seconds away from throwing his entire plate at Telemachus’s smug face. His fiancé,his awful, scheming fiancé,was sitting there, completely composed, grinning like he hadn’t just insulted Eupeithes to his own face and insuinated his suprise someone hasnt tried to kill him.

Eupeithes, of course, remained blissfully unaware. He sighed deeply, shaking his head as if mourning some great tragedy. “A shame,” he said gravely. “Truly, I do not understand men like that. To deny their own child happiness it is disgraceful.”

Antinous did slam his head onto the table then, the sound making Asteria flinch. “You okay, brother?” she asked, biting her lip to keep from laughing.

Antinous groaned, lifting his head just enough to glare at Telemachus, who was very pointedly avoiding his gaze, his expression the picture of innocence.

“Oh, I’m just wonderful,” Antinous drawled, rubbing his temples as if this entire conversation was physically painful. “Really enjoying dinner.”

Thalina, who had been sitting comfortably on Telemachus’s lap, looked between them, her little finned ears twitching. She turned to Eupeithes, tilting her head. “You don’t like Mr. Lion?”

The table fell into dead silence.

Mahdokht tensed. Asteria’s eyes widened. Klytos set down his cup a little too slowly.

Eupeithes blinked. “Excuse me?”

Thalina pouted, pointing at Antinous, who was now very much trying to disappear into his seat. “Mr. Lion is the best. He’s smart and strong and takes care of me and Mr. Wolf. So why are you mean to him?”

Telemachus immediately snorted into his drink, covering his mouth with his hand. Klytos turned his face away, shoulders shaking. Asteria was gripping the edge of the table like it was the only thing keeping her from screaming.

Eupeithes, for the first time, hesitated. His jaw tightened, his fingers twitching where they rested on the table. “I am not ‘mean’ to my son,” he said stiffly.

Thalina, apparently unimpressed, narrowed her golden eyes at him. “Yes, you are.”

Antinous let out a low groan, pressing his forehead back to the table. “Thalina,” he mumbled, voice muffled against the wood. “Sweetheart. Please. I am begging you”

But Thalina was undeterred. She crossed her tiny arms over her chest, looking entirely like Circe in that moment. “You don’t like Mr. Lion because he wants to marry Mr. Wolf.”

Absolute silence.

Asteria’s fork clattered against her plate. Mahdokht visibly tensed. Klytos inhaled slowly, as if bracing for war.

Antinous fucking died inside.

Eupeithes, for the briefest moment, went completely still. His fingers curled against the table, knuckles whitening. “Excuse me?” he repeated, voice now sharper, colder.

Telemachus, to his credit, did not look away this time. Instead, he very deliberately reached out, taking Antinous’s hand in his own, and squeezed. “You heard her,” he said smoothly, though his grip was firm. Protective. “Your son and I are engaged.”

Mahdokht gasped softly. Asteria looked way too pleased. Klytos took a sip of his drink like he was watching the best drama of the century.

Eupeithes, however, laughed.

It was a short, humorless thing. His head tilted back, his lips curling into something cruel. “Engaged?” he repeated, shaking his head. “To you?” His gaze flickered to Telemachus, his expression a mix of disbelief and scorn. “I was under the impression that you were to be king.”

Telemachus’s smile didn’t falter. “I am.”

Eupeithes sneered. “Then how, exactly, do you expect to rule with him at your side?” His eyes snapped to Antinous, burning with something sharp and biting. “This boy is nothing but a brute. A pretty faced thug with no true standing. You deserve a woman of status, a proper queen, and while my son is practically a woman, he still wouldn’t be a queen .”

Antinous had been still this whole time, his nails digging into Telemachus’s palm, but at that, he laughed. A quiet, hollow sound that held no amusement. He lifted his head, finally meeting his father’s glare.

“A ‘pretty faced thug’?” Antinous repeated a dangerous glint in his eye. “Well, it’s a good thing I’m not marrying you, then, isn’t it? and at least you can admit I’m pretty. I must get my looks from Mom because it sure as hell didnt get it from you.”

Eupeithes’s nostrils flared.

Asteria, never one to let things go without adding something to the fire, rested her chin on her palm and sighed dreamily. “I think he’ll make a lovely king,” she mused, grinning. “He already has the loyalty of the army, and he did just win that war game against all the other kings.”

Klytos nodded sagely. “Impressive.”

Mahdokht, hesitantly, glanced at Antinous, her eyes soft. “You truly wish to rule by his side?” she asked quietly.

Antinous turned to her then, his expression gentler than it had been all night. He squeezed Telemachus’s hand, nodding once. “Yeah,” he said simply. “I do.”

Mahdokht exhaled, then smiled a real, warm thing that made something tighten in Antinous’s chest. “Then that is enough for me.”

Eupeithes looked like he was going to vomit.

Thalina, meanwhile, beamed. She tugged at Telemachus’s sleeve. “Does this mean Mr. Wof is gonna be my papa too?”

Antinous choked not having even considered the little girl he thought of as his daughter saw him as her dad.

Telemachus, however, only grinned. “Of course it does, my little minnow.”

Thalina cheered, completely unaware of the absolute war breaking out in Eupeithes’s mind.

Antinous sighed, already regretting everything. But when Telemachus squeezed his hand again, tilting his head with that soft, knowing smile, he supposed maybe it wasn’t so bad for his family to know about his love. Until it was.
Eupeithes’s sneer deepened, his eyes burning with a mix of rage and disgust. His fingers clenched into fists against the table, his knuckles white with the force of his grip. Then, without warning, he slammed his hands down, rattling the plates and cups, his voice a harsh bark of anger.

“You think this is some joke?!” he snarled, rising abruptly from his chair. “That thing is no king! he is a bastard in all but name!” His glare snapped to Antinous, his lip curling. “You’re a disgrace. You shame this family, this bloodline I wish your mother had killed you when she had the chance!”

Antinous tensed, his shoulders going rigid, his entire body coiled like a spring ready to snap. But before he could even open his mouth, Klytos had already pushed back his chair, standing tall, his broad frame casting a shadow over Eupeithes. His large hands clenched into fists, his usually calm face darkened with an unspoken warning.

Mahdokht gasped, reaching out as if to intervene, but it was Telemachus who moved first.

Slowly, calmly, the prince turned his gaze to Eupeithes, his expression eerily composed. He didn’t even flinch. Didn’t blink. Just watched the man with those cold, calculating green eyes the same eyes his father had when he was about to strike fear into his enemies.

Then, voice smooth as oil, he said,

“Lay a hand on my fiancé, and I will have you executed slowly.”

The words weren’t shouted. They weren’t even said with anger. But the promise in them calm, unwavering, absolute . The look sent a chill down the spine of every person in the room.

Asteria visibly stiffened. Mahdokht paled. Klytos who had been seconds away from stepping in stopped dead in his tracks, glancing between Telemachus and Eupeithes, as if trying to decide whether or not he actually needed to get involved and which one of them he will need to restrain.

Eupeithes, however, froze.

His face contorted in rage, his hands trembling with barely restrained fury. But Telemachus didn’t move. He didn’t waver. Didn’t so much as blink as he held Eupeithes in his cold, unrelenting gaze.

The older man breathed heavily, his nostrils flaring like a bull ready to charge but he didn’t.

Because he saw it.

He recognized it.

The same quiet, dangerous resolve that Odysseus had carried into battle, the same unyielding authority that commanded men to follow him without question. It was there, right there, staring him down with the sharp, merciless gaze of a king.

He swallowed hard.

His body locked up, his fists still shaking at his sides, but for the first time since this conversation had started he hesitated.

Antinous, still tense beside Telemachus, exhaled slowly, forcing himself to relax. His gaze flickered to his father, watching the way he stiffened, the way his throat bobbed, the way his usual unchecked rage had, for the first time, met something stronger.

It was satisfying.

Antinous let his lips curl, his voice dripping with faux sweetness as he tilted his head.

“Well,” he drawled, amusement lacing his tone, “I guess that settles that.”

Eupeithes’s eyes snapped to him, burning with barely restrained fury, but he didn’t move.

Klytos, still standing, exhaled deeply before glancing at Telemachus, something almost like admiration flashing in his gaze. He smirked slightly before settling back into his chair, reaching for his drink as if nothing had happened.

Mahdokht was still frozen, eyes darting between Telemachus and Eupeithes, but Asteria?

Asteria, gods bless her, was beaming.

She rested her chin in her palm, looking far too pleased. “Well, that was exciting,” she mused, sipping at her drink. “Brother, I must say, your taste in men is immaculate.”

Antinous snorted. “I know.”

Eupeithes let out a slow, sharp exhale through his nose before shoving himself away from the table, muttering something under his breath as he stormed toward the door.

Before he could leave, however, Thalina who had been silently watching from Telemachus’s lap perked up and called out,

“Bye, scary man!”

Eupeithes halted.

His eye twitched.

He gritted his teeth.
“Don’t come back!” and with a point of her clawed finger, she sent a tiny zap of electricity and hit him right in the ass

And then, with all the dignity of a man who had just lost a battle to a toddler, he stormed out, slamming the door behind him.

There was a brief silence.
Then
Asteria burst into laughter.

Klytos chuckled lowly, shaking his head. Mahdokht let out a quiet, nervous laugh, glancing at her son with something close to awe.

And Telemachus?

Telemachus just smirked, running a hand through Antinous’s hair. “See?” he murmured, just for him to hear. “Told you I’d take care of it.”

Antinous groaned, dropping his head against Telemachus’s shoulder. “You’re going to be the death of me.”

Thalina, completely unfazed, clapped her hands. “Can we have dessert now?”
It was at that moment that Alexandra decided to poke her head out and says “dessert sounds good to me”

Chapter Text

11
The tension from dinner had faded, replaced by the quiet hum of conversation and the clinking of dishes as dessert was served. Thalina, happily munching on honeyed figs, had taken up her usual spot in Telemachus’s lap, her tiny feet kicking against the chair leg. Asteria was chatting animatedly with Mahdokht, Klytos occasionally interjecting with dry wit. Alexandra, still buzzing with excitement, was sneaking extra sweets onto her plate when she thought no one was looking.
Antinous, however, was quiet. Something that he never was and that was pissing a certain prince off.
He sat next to Telemachus, his posture relaxed, but the slight furrow in his brow, the way he absentmindedly tapped his fingers against the table, told a different story.
He let Antinous sit with his thoughts for a while before leaning in, voice low and teasing. “I can practically hear you thinking.”

Antinous huffed, swirling the last bit of wine in his cup. “That obvious, huh?”

“To me? Always.”

Antinous sighed, setting his cup down. “I don’t know. I guess I just thought…” He hesitated. “I thought it would feel better finally standing up to him after all the shit be put me through.”

Telemachus’s expression softened. He reached under the table, fingers brushing against Antinous’s hand before lacing them together. “It will,” he murmured. “Give it time.”

Antinous exhaled through his nose, staring at their joined hands. “Time, huh?”

“Mhm.” Telemachus squeezed his fingers and brought his hand to his lips for a kiss. “And until then, you got me.”

Antinous looked up at him, and despite the exhaustion in his eyes, he smirked. “Oh, lucky me.”

Telemachus grinned. “Very.”

Asteria, who had clearly been eavesdropping, sighed dramatically. “You two are so mushy.”

Alexandra nodded in agreement, her mouth full of pastry. “It’s cute, but gross.”

Klytos chuckled. “I think it’s nice.”

Mahdokht, watching them with quiet fondness, simply smiled.

Antinous rolled his eyes but didn’t pull away from Telemachus’s hand. “Gods, you’re all insufferable.”

“And yet,” Telemachus mused, “you still love them.”

Antinous groaned, leaning his head back against his chair. “Unfortunately.”

Thalina, who had been completely silent up until now, suddenly gasped, her little body perking up. She looked between them, her big golden eyes wide with excitement.

“Wait!” she squeaked, bouncing slightly in Telemachus’s lap. “That mean I get a pretty dress?!”

The entire table went silent.

Antinous blinked.

Telemachus’s lips twitched.

Then, at the exact same time, they turned to each other.

“Oh, we are definitely putting her in a dress,” Telemachus said.

Antinous smirked. “Obviously.”

Thalina let out a high-pitched squeal, clapping her little hands together in a very similar way to how a seal would. “I want ribbons! Lotsa ribbons! And sparkles! And… oh! Shiny shoes!”

Telemachus laughed, running a hand through her wild curls. “Shiny shoes, huh?”

She nodded so hard her finned ears flapped. “Uh-huh! And I walk with you and Mister Lion?”

“Of course,” Telemachus assured her, poking her tiny nose. “Right in the middle.”

Thalina gasped, eyes practically glowing. “I be in the middle? Like a real princess?”

Antinous snorted, scooping her up into his arms. “Obviously. You’re the most important person there, aren’t ya?”

She nodded seriously, as if this was the most obvious thing in the world. “Yeah.”

Mahdokht let out a quiet laugh, while Asteria sighed, shaking her head. “You two are doomed.”

“Oh, we’ve been doomed for a while,” Telemachus said with a grin.

Antinous just groaned again, but there was a smile tugging at his lips as he leaned against Telemachus’s side, Thalina still chattering away about all the shiny things she wanted for the wedding.
Later that night the room was dimly lit, the glow of the lantern on the nightstand casting soft, golden light across the walls. Outside, the night was quiet, save for the occasional hoot of an owl or the rustling of the trees in the gentle breeze.

Antinous, however, was not enjoying the peaceful atmosphere.

He was pouting.

Telemachus, who had been settling into bed beside him, stifled a chuckle at the sight. Arms crossed, brow furrowed, Antinous looked every bit like an oversized, sulking child. “You’re still upset about this, aren’t you?”

Antinous huffed, turning onto his side to face Telemachus fully. “I’m just saying,” he grumbled, “she could’ve at least pretended to be torn about it. Instead, the second Asteria asked, she was gone. Gone, little wolf. Like I didn’t even exist.”

Telemachus snorted, wrapping himself around Antinous without hesitation. His arm slid over his waist, his leg hooking around Antinous’s own, bringing them close enough that there was no space left between them. “Oh, come on,” he teased, lips brushing against Antinous’s collarbone. “Are you really that jealous?”

Antinous scoffed but didn’t push him away. “I am not jealous.”

“You are absolutely jealous.”

Antinous grumbled under his breath, his fingers absently tracing circles against Telemachus’s hip. “I just don’t like being abandoned.”

Telemachus bit back a laugh. “She’s four.”
“And?”
“She adores you.”
“Then why isn’t she in bed with us?”

Telemachus grinned, pressing closer, his breath warm against Antinous’s skin. “Maybe,” he murmured, voice dropping lower, “she just figured we needed some alone time.”

Antinous rolled his eyes, though the corner of his lips twitched. “Oh? And why would we need alone time?”

Telemachus shifted, tilting his head up, lips barely an inch from Antinous’s jaw. “Because it’s been a while since we’ve been able to give each other a proper goodnight.” With that he placed a feather like kiss on his neck.

Antinous’s grip on Telemachus’s hip tightened slightly. His eyes flickered down to meet Telemachus’s, dark with amusement, but there was something else there too something softer, something unmistakably fond.

“You mean like this?” Antinous murmured, his voice lower now.

Then, with slow deliberation, he cupped Telemachus’s chin, tilting his face up before closing the gap between them.

The kiss was soft at first, a slow press of lips, like the world outside didn’t exist. Telemachus sighed into it, his fingers curling against the fabric of Antinous’s tunic, pulling him impossibly closer. Antinous, never one to be outdone, deepened it, his free hand sliding up Telemachus’s spine, warm and steady.

Telemachus melted.

It had been too long too many stolen moments, too many interruptions. Here, in this quiet space, with no suitors to fight, no kings to outsmart, no politics to play, it was just them. Just Telemachus and Antinous and the quiet certainty between them.

When they finally pulled apart, Telemachus, slightly breathless, murmured against his lips, “Now that was a proper goodnight.”

Antinous smirked. “I could do better.”

Telemachus chuckled, resting his forehead against Antinous’s. “Oh, I know you could.” His fingers danced along Antinous’s arm, his touch light, playful. “But we do have to sleep at some point.”

Antinous hummed, his hand slipping lower to rest on Telemachus’s waist. “Do we, though?”

Telemachus rolled his eyes but didn’t move away. “Yes, we do.”

Antinous sighed dramatically, flipping onto his back and pulling Telemachus with him so the prince was sprawled half on top of him. “Fine,” he relented, his fingers lazily running through Telemachus’s curls. “But only because you need your beauty sleep, my dear little wolf.”

Telemachus groaned, burying his face in Antinous’s chest. “I take it back. No more proper goodnights for you.”

Antinous only chuckled, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. “Too late. You already promised.”

Telemachus grumbled something unintelligible, but his arms tightened around Antinous’s waist, holding him close.

And despite all his sulking, Antinous couldn’t help but think maybe being abandoned for the night wasn’t so bad after all.

Chapter Text

The first light of dawn crept through window, casting golden slivers across the room. The world outside was still quiet, the household not yet stirring, but inside their shared bed, Telemachus was very much awake and very much frustrated.

He groaned, tilting his head back against the pillow as he took in the very obvious, very inconvenient problem pressing against his chiton. Gods. This was not how he wanted to start his morning.

With a sigh, he turned his head, glancing at the man still very much asleep beside him. Antinous was sprawled out in the most ridiculous position, one arm stretched above his head, the other resting possessively over Telemachus’s waist. His dark curls were an absolute mess, his lips parted slightly as he exhaled slow, steady breaths. Peaceful. Oblivious.

Well, not for long.

Telemachus reached out and gave Antinous a firm shake.

“Wake up,” he muttered, his voice still heavy with sleep.

Antinous let out a grumble of protest, shifting slightly but keeping his eyes firmly shut. “No.”

Telemachus rolled his eyes. “Antinous.”

“Mm-mm.” Antinous buried his face deeper into the pillow.

Telemachus shook him again, a little harder this time. “I’m going to the lake.”

That got a reaction. Antinous cracked one eye open, brows furrowing in groggy confusion. “The lake?” His voice was thick with sleep, rough in a way that would have been distracting if Telemachus weren’t so preoccupied. “Why the hell would you” He cut himself off, blinking as he finally took in the state of Telemachus.

A slow, smug grin stretched across his lips.

“Oh.”

Telemachus groaned, rubbing a hand down his face. “Don’t.”

Antinous stretched like a satisfied cat, propping himself up on one elbow as his grin only widened. “Little wolf,” he drawled, his voice still husky from sleep, “if you needed help, you could’ve just woken me up sooner.”

Telemachus shot him a glare. “I am not doing anything in your sister’s house.”

Antinous pouted. “Not even a little”

“No.”

Antinous sighed dramatically, flopping back onto the bed. “Fine,” he grumbled, though the amusement in his voice made it clear he was anything but put out. “But if you’re going to the lake at this hour, I’m coming with you.”

Telemachus, already standing and reaching for his tunic, raised a brow at him. “Why?”

Antinous gave him an exaggerated look of offense. “What, I can’t enjoy a peaceful morning swim with my beloved fiancé?”

Telemachus narrowed his eyes. “You just want to watch me suffer.”

Antinous smirked. “Maybe.”

Telemachus huffed, shaking his head, but didn’t protest. “Fine. But if you make this worse, I swear to the gods”

Antinous held up his hands in mock surrender. “I would never.”

Telemachus snorted, clearly not believing him for a second, before tossing him a clean tunic. “Hurry up.”

Antinous chuckled to himself as he pulled it on, already planning just how much teasing he could get away with before Telemachus inevitably tried to drown him in the lake.

The walk to the lake was quiet, the early morning air still cool against their skin. The sun had barely begun to rise, casting a soft golden glow over the landscape. Dew clung to the grass, dampening their feet as they made their way through the trees, the distant sounds of birds just beginning to stir.

Telemachus walked with purpose, his strides quick, his jaw set in determination. Antinous, on the other hand, strolled leisurely beside him, hands tucked behind his head, a lazy grin playing at his lips.

“So,” Antinous finally broke the silence, voice teasing, “is this a daily occurrence for you, or am I just that good?”

Telemachus shot him a glare. “I swear to the gods, if you don’t shut up”

Antinous laughed, the sound warm and deep in the quiet morning air. “Oh, come on, little wolf, no need to be shy. It’s a perfectly natural problem. Just means you’re healthy.”

Telemachus groaned, running a hand down his face. “I am not having this conversation.”

Antinous hummed, completely unbothered. “You know,” he mused, “if you’d just let me help, this whole thing would be over a lot quicker.”

Telemachus’s steps faltered for half a second before he caught himself. “No.”

“Just saying,” Antinous continued, grinning like a wolf, “a quick hand-“

“No.”

Antinous sighed dramatically. “You really are stubborn.”

Telemachus rolled his eyes but didn’t respond. Instead, he quickened his pace as the lake finally came into view.

It was beautiful in the morning light, the water calm and undisturbed, reflecting the soft hues of dawn. Mist hovered over the surface, curling around the edges of the trees that lined the shore. It was the perfect place to cool down.

Telemachus wasted no time stripping off his tunic, tossing it onto a nearby rock before wading into the water. The shock of the cold hit him immediately, and he exhaled sharply, his body tensing as he adjusted to the temperature.

Antinous watched from the shore, arms crossed, lips twitching with amusement. “Refreshing?” he called out.

Telemachus glared at him, shivering slightly as the water reached his waist. “Get in here before I drag you in.”

Antinous smirked, but he didn’t need to be told twice. He stripped off his own outer layer leaving only his loincloth on and waded in after him, the cold biting at his skin. He hissed slightly but quickly shook it off, moving until he was just a few feet away from Telemachus.

For a moment, they were both silent, just standing there, the gentle ripples of the water lapping against them. It was peaceful. Almost nice.

Then Antinous, being Antinous, ruined it.

“You know,” he mused, swimming a little closer, “this really is a shame.”

Telemachus narrowed his eyes. “What now?”

Antinous grinned. “That I can’t touch you.”

Telemachus’s face turned red instantly. “Antinous”

“I mean, really,” Antinous continued, his voice dripping with exaggerated disappointment, “here you are, looking absolutely enchanting in the water, and I have to keep my hands to myself? Pure torture.”

Telemachus groaned, dragging his hands down his face. “I should have come alone.”

Antinous smirked, watching as Telemachus tried very hard to focus on literally anything other than him. “Too late now, little wolf.”

He moved closer, just enough to invade Telemachus’s space but not enough to touch, his breath warm despite the cold water. “Besides,” he murmured, voice low, “you’re the one who asked me to come and I will always cum when you tell me to”

Telemachus swallowed hard, his resolve faltering for just a second. But then, with a sharp inhale, he abruptly shoved Antinous backward, sending him splashing into the water.

Antinous came up sputtering, blinking the water out of his eyes. He wiped his hair out of his face, then looked at Telemachus with wide, incredulous eyes.

“You did not just”

Telemachus, for the first time that morning, grinned. “I did.”

Antinous stared at him for a beat, then narrowed his eyes. “Oh, you’re dead.”

Telemachus barely had time to react before Antinous lunged at him, tackling him into the water with a dramatic splash.

Chapter Text

After playfully splashing around for a bit Antinous suddenly caught him by the wrist, yanked him close, and kissed him.
It wasn’t gentle. It wasn’t careful. It was fierce and consuming, the way the sea crashes against the shore unstoppable, inevitable. Antinous kissed him like he was something to be claimed, like he had been waiting too long for this moment to do anything but take it.
Telemachus gasped into it, his hands finding their way to Antinous’s shoulders, gripping him like he needed something solid to hold onto. Antinous tilted his head, deepening the kiss, his fingers slipping into Telemachus’s damp hair.

Telemachus wasn’t sure if he kissed back just as desperately or if he simply surrendered, melting into the heat of Antinous’s mouth, the way their bodies fit together in the water. The world beyond them faded, swallowed by the night and the rhythm of the waves. It was just them Antinous and Telemachus, tangled together in the water, the weight of unspoken words pressed between their lips. But unfortunately they were mortals and had to separate for air.

The world around them felt still, the only sound being their ragged breaths and the gentle lapping of the water against their bodies. Antinous and Telemachus remained close, foreheads pressed together, their arms loosely wrapped around each other as they caught their breath.

Telemachus’s fingers curled slightly against Antinous’s bare shoulder, the warmth of his skin a stark contrast to the cool water. His heart was pounding, but not from exertion but simply from the way Antinous looked at him, from the way his lips still tingled, from the way his fiancé had kissed him like he was something precious.

Antinous smirked, eyes half lidded as he took in Telemachus’s flushed face. “You know,” he murmured, “if you are still having a problem I’m willing to help .”

Telemachus huffed a breathless laugh. “Oh, shut up.”

Antinous only grinned, dipping his head t o steal another kiss when suddenly

The unmistakable sound of rapid, tiny footsteps echoed from the shore.

Both men turned just in time to see a very naked Thalina with a towel around her neck like a cape sprinting at full speed toward the lake.

Neither of them had time to react before she launched herself off the shore with an excited squeal, arms spread wide like she was attempting to take flight.

She hit the water with a surprisingly graceful dive for someone her size, disappearing beneath the surface before reemerging just a few feet away from them. Her golden eyes gleamed with pure delight as she swam toward them, her finned ears flicking water off in every direction.

“Mr. Lion! Mr. Wolf!” she chirped, grinning up at them as if she hadn’t just ambushed their moment. “I found you!”

Antinous stared at her, blinking in shock. “How did you even?”

“She’s a nymph, she probably smelled the water and got excited,” Telemachus deadpanned, though he was fighting a laugh.

Thalina beamed. “Asteria took me to the river! But then I smelled you, so I came here instead!” She paused, tilting her head. “Where’s your clothes?”

Antinous groaned, rubbing a hand down his face. “Thalina, you can’t just run off naked like that.”

Thalina blinked, then pouted. “But I wanted to swim.”

Telemachus sighed, running a hand through his damp hair. “That’s not the point, little one. You scared us.”

Thalina frowned for a moment, then brightened. “I’m sorry.” She held out her tiny arms expectantly. “Hug?”

Antinous sighed but relented, scooping her up and wrapping the towel around her and holding her close. “You’re lucky you’re cute,” he muttered.

Thalina giggled

Thalina giggled, pressing a wet, chubby hand against Antinous’s cheek before pulling back to look at both of them, her golden eyes wide with curiosity.

“You both are really warm,” she said matter of factly, her tiny fingers tapping against Antinous’s shoulder before reaching for Telemachus. “Why you breathing funny?”

Antinous choked on a laugh, while Telemachus’s face turned a very specific shade of red.

“No reason,” Telemachus said a little too quickly, clearing his throat and wading a bit further away from Antinous to put some space between them. “You just surprised us, that’s all.”

Thalina blinked, then shrugged. “Okay!” With no further thought, she wriggled her way out of Antinous’s grasp and started swimming in circles around them, her small fins flicking happily as she splashed in the water.

Antinous exhaled a long breath, rubbing the back of his neck. “Well, that was a mood killer.”

Telemachus, still trying to recover from his embarrassment, splashed him in the face. “Shut up.”

Antinous sputtered, pushing his hair back and grinning. “Oh, it’s like that, huh?”

Before Telemachus could react, Antinous lunged forward, grabbing him around the waist and pulling him under the water with him. The lake erupted in a flurry of splashes as Telemachus fought back, the two of them wrestling playfully beneath the surface before breaking apart and surfacing again, both gasping and laughing.

Thalina, watching them with wide eyes, let out a delighted squeal and threw herself onto Antinous’s head, clinging to him like a tiny barnacle.

“I win!” she declared proudly.

Antinous groaned, adjusting her so she wouldn’t pull his hair. “What exactly did you win, little menace?”

Thalina beamed. “The game!”

Telemachus chuckled, wiping water from his eyes. “What game?”

Thalina paused, looking very thoughtful for a moment. Then, as if just realizing she had no idea what she was talking about, she simply nodded sagely.

“Yes.”

Antinous sighed dramatically. “Gods, she’s just like you.”

Telemachus smirked, pushing wet curls out of his face. “Of course she is. She spends most of her time with us.”

Thalina beamed at that, her small arms wrapping around Antinous’s neck in a tight hug. “I like being with you,” she said simply. “You’re my family.”

For a moment, neither man spoke. Antinous’s grip on her tightened just a little, his eyes soft as he looked down at the little nymph clinging to him.

“Yeah,” he murmured. “We are.”

Telemachus, watching the scene, felt something warm settle in his chest.

Then, deciding the moment was getting a little too emotional for Antinous’s liking, he smirked. “But you still lost, Antinous.”

Antinous shot him a flat look. “Excuse me?”

Telemachus gestured toward Thalina still wrapped around his neck, giggling. “She declared herself the winner. You lost.”

Antinous narrowed his eyes. “That doesn’t even make sense.”

Telemachus grinned, backing up through the water. “You heard her. She won. Which means you lost.”

Antinous was silent for a moment.

Then, very calmly, he turned to Thalina.

“Minnow,” he said smoothly. “Bite him.”
Thalina gasped dramatically, eyes lighting up. “Bite Mr. Wolf?”
“Yes,” Antinous said solemnly, setting her down in the water. “Punish him for his insolence.”
Thalina turned to Telemachus, her tiny fangs peeking through her mischievous grin.
Telemachus’s eyes widened. “Oh, you little”
Thalina lunged.

The lake exploded into chaos once more as Telemachus frantically swam away, laughing and dodging as Thalina splashed after him, giggling manically.
Antinous crossed his arms, watching the chaos unfold with great satisfaction.
“Now this,” he muttered to himself, smirking, “is a good morning.”

Chapter Text

Thalina, full of energy as always, had taken to climbing a small hill near the lake, scrambling up with surprising speed before throwing herself into the water with delighted squeals. Each time, she resurfaced with an even bigger grin, shaking off the water like a little otter before running back up to do it again.

Antinous and Telemachus watched her from the shallows, amused and keeping a watchful eye as she repeated the process over and over. Antinous, arms folded across his chest, chuckled. “Where does she get all that energy?”

Telemachus smirked, stretching his arms over his head. “Must be the nymph in her or Circe’s influence. That woman has way too much energy for someone who spends half her time lounging around, cursing people.”

Antinous snorted. “True.”

But then, after what seemed like her tenth jump, something changed.

She didn’t come up.

The ripples from where she had hit the water slowly faded, the surface going eerily still. Seconds ticked by.

Too many seconds.

Antinous’s heart slammed against his ribs. His amusement vanished, replaced with raw panic. “Where is she?” His voice was tight, urgent.

Telemachus’s eyes darted across the water. “She should’ve come up by now”

Neither of them hesitated. They both dove beneath the surface, their eyes scanning frantically, lungs burning as they searched for any sign of her.

Antinous’s chest constricted painfully as his mind raced through every terrible possibility. What if she hit something on the way down? What if she was stuck? What if she…

And then, finally, they spotted her.

Sitting peacefully at the bottom of the lake, eyes open, completely unbothered.

In her tiny hands, she cradled a little frog, staring at it with quiet fascination.

Antinous, however, saw none of that.

All he saw was his little girl, sitting at the bottom of the lake without moving.

Something inside him snapped. He shot forward with powerful strokes, reaching her in seconds. Without giving her a chance to react, he scooped her up into his arms and kicked off from the lakebed, propelling them both toward the surface with a desperate force.

The moment they broke through the water, Antinous didn’t even stop to breathe. He rushed her to shore, setting her down carefully but firmly in the grass, his hands immediately checking her over, his face tight with worry. “Thalina?! Are you okay? Are you hurt? Can you breathe?”

Thalina, still holding onto her little frog, blinked up at him, completely confused. “Where are we going?”

Antinous froze, his heart still hammering. “What?”

Thalina tilted her head, small droplets of water slipping from her soaked curls. “I was playin’ with my new friend,” she said simply, holding up the frog. “Why’d you take me out?”

Antinous just stared at her, his breathing still uneven. “You! you were down there for so long,” he managed, his voice caught between lingering panic and sheer disbelief. “You were just sitting there!”

Thalina furrowed her brows, confused. “Yeah?”

“You should be gasping for air right now,” Antinous stressed, running a hand through his wet curls. “You were holding your breath for almost a minute.”

Thalina giggled, looking at him like he was the silly one. “No, I wasn’t!”

Antinous’s mouth opened, then closed, then opened again as if trying to comprehend what she was saying.

And then, behind him, Telemechaus burst out laughing.

Antinous whipped his head around to glare at him, but Telemachus was already doubled over, clutching his stomach, his laughter echoing across the lake. “Gods, my love,” he wheezed between laughs, wiping at his eyes. “You do remember that she’s a water nymph, right?”
Antinous blinked. Once. Twice.
Then, realization hit him like a war hammer.
Thalina was a water nymph.
A water nymph.
Who lived in the water.
Who did not need to hold her breath.
Antinous let out a slow, suffering exhale, his entire body slumping as the full weight of his panic and stupidity washed over him. He dragged his hands down his face, groaning. Gods, I’m an idiot.”
Telemachus, still laughing, flopped down in the grass beside them, nudging Antinous’s side. “A little bit,” he teased. “But you’re my idiot.”

Antinous grumbled something unintelligible before flopping back onto the grass, staring up at the sky in exhausted defeat.

Thalina, still clutching her frog, blinked at both of them before shrugging and happily cuddling up against Antinous’s side. “I like the lake,” she announced, resting her head against his chest.

Antinous sighed heavily but wrapped an arm around her anyway, pulling her close. “Yeah,” he muttered, pressing a kiss to the top of her damp curls. “I noticed.”

Finally on land they decided to start a fire it’s warmth crackled between them, casting flickering golden light across their faces as they settled on the shore. Their damp clothes had been replaced with dry ones, thanks to Asteria, who had also insisted on dropping off Klytos for what she had dramatically called social time before disappearing back up the hill.

Antinous sat cross legged with Telemachus leaning comfortably against his side, their fingers loosely intertwined. Thalina, ever content, was curled up between them, happily munching on a raw fish headfirst, which made Antinous visibly grimace every time he looked at her. Klytos, sitting across from them with an amused expression, finally broke the comfortable silence.

“So, Circe is your mom, huh?” he asked, smiling as he poked at the fire with a stick.

Thalina, her mouth still full, shook her head quickly. “Mama Circe is my mama,” she corrected after swallowing, her golden eyes bright. “But she didn’t birth me.”

Klytos blinked, slightly confused. “Oh I’m sorry,” he said, immediately feeling bad for assuming.

Thalina, unfazed, beamed at him. “It’s ok! Mama Circe says she is my mama but she didn’t make me in her belly.”

Antinous and Telemachus both relaxed slightly at that, glad that she didn’t seem sad about the distinction.

But then, with all the casual innocence of a child who didn’t fully understand the weight of her own words, she continued.

“I don’t ‘member much about my first mama,” she admitted, tilting her head as she chewed thoughtfully on her fish. “Only that she hated me.” She said it so simply and with a smile on her face,as if it were a fact like the sky being blue or the ocean being big.

The fire crackled loudly in the following silence.

Telemachus and Antinous immediately tensed. Klytos’s smile faltered, and he exchanged a quick, unreadable glance with Antinous, whose grip on Telemachus’s hand subtly tightened.

Thalina, oblivious to their reactions, swung her little legs idly, her finned ears twitching as she spoke. “She hated my dad too, but she said it was ‘cause she didn’t have a choice.” Thalina’s voice changed slightly as she mimicked her mother’s words, her little face scrunching up in exaggerated frustration. “She screamed that a lot before she threw stuff at him! But then he threw bigger stuff back, then he would hit her and she would fall asleep for awhile!”

Her words were punctuated by another loud crunch as she bit further into the fish, her tiny fangs sinking into the flesh like it was nothing.

No one spoke.

Because they all knew exactly what she was describing.

It didn’t take a scholar to understand the implications behind didn’t have a choice nor what it meant for a child to be born from such a situation.

Antinous, whose body had gone rigid, forced himself to exhale, his free hand rubbing at his face as he processed it.

Telemachus’s throat tightened as he glanced at her, at this tiny little thing who had been born into cruelty and yet somehow still managed to be so full of light. His stomach twisted.

Klytos, usually calm and jovial, had lost his smile entirely. His jaw clenched slightly as he looked at Thalina, at her small frame, at the innocent way she had relayed such a terrible thing. His hand flexed on his knee as if resisting the urge to smash something.

It was Antinous who finally broke the silence, his voice softer than usual. “And then what happened, little one?”

Thalina, licking her fingers, shrugged. “Then I got sent to Mama Circe.” She smiled again, this time wider, like it was the happiest thing in the world. “She took care of me and gave me nice things and taught me magic! So it’s okay now.”

But none of them looked okay.

Antinous, who had seen cruelty in many forms, suddenly found himself unable to swallow past the lump in his throat.

Telemachus, who had spent years protecting his mother, felt an entirely new kind of rage settle in his chest at the idea of someone hurting a child, his child.

And Klytos, who had grown up in a family that loved and protected each other, had to grit his teeth to keep himself from speaking, from cursing the name of a man long gone. A man who he didn’t even know the name of but hoped he had died a painful death.

The fire crackled, filling the heavy silence that had settled between them.

After a long moment, Telemachus gently placed his hand on Thalina’s head, smoothing down her wet curls. “Well,” he said, voice warm but firm. “You don’t ever have to worry about that anymore. Because we’re here, and we love you.”

Thalina, blissfully unaware of the storm of emotions she had stirred, grinned wide at him, leaning into his touch. “I know!” she giggled. “That’s why I’m not sad about it.”

Antinous let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding, shifting so he could wrap his arm fully around Telemachus, pulling both him and Thalina close.

“Well,” he muttered, pressing a kiss to the top of Thalina’s head, “I am sad about it.”

Thalina blinked up at him, tilting her head curiously. “Why?”

Antinous sighed, giving her a lopsided smile. “Because no one should have hurt you. Not ever.”

She considered this for a moment, then, as if deciding it wasn’t worth worrying about, smiled again. Then scaling upAntinous . “But you don’t hurt me.” She poked his nose. “And Mr. Wolf doesn’t hurt me.” She turned to Klytos. “And Mr bear doesn’t hurt me.”

Klytos, despite the tension still in his shoulders, managed to crack a smile. “That’s right, little one he said, voice gentle. “We don’t and we never will.

Thalina nodded, satisfied. “Then I don’t hafta be sad!” she declared.

Antinous exhaled again, then gave her a small squeeze. “Guess not, princess.”

Thalina giggled, completely at ease, and snuggled into Antinous’s side.

And though the fire still burned bright, warming their skin, the warmth of family was the thing that settled deepest into their bones that night.

Chapter Text

The fire had burned down to glowing embers, casting a soft, golden light across the quiet shore. The waves lapped gently against the sand in a rhythm that lulled everything into calm. Telemachus lay stretched out with his head resting in Antinous’s lap, a content smile tugging at the corners of his mouth as Antinous absentmindedly combed his fingers through his curls.

Klytos sat nearby, cross legged and calm though his calm was frequently interrupted by the giggling, squirming, slightly damp child currently climbing up his torso like a determined little squirrel. Thalina had, somehow, found her second wind after dinner and was using Klytos as her personal mountain.

“Up again?” he asked, laughing as she planted her tiny clawed hands on his shoulders. She nodded so hard her ears wobbled.

“Higher this time!” she chirped.

With an exaggerated groan, Klytos heaved her up into the air. She squealed with delight, her webbed hands flaring out as she soared above his head before he caught her again with ease. She immediately wriggled and said, “Again!”

As he tossed her again, he glanced over to where the boys were curled up together under a shared blanket, Telemachus looking far too peaceful for someone whose hair was being mussed by Antinous’s idle fingers.

“So,” Klytos said casually, catching Thalina again and giving her a little spin, “do you two actually think Circe’s going to let her stay with you?”

Antinous chuckled low in his throat, still twirling a lock of Telemachus’s hair between his fingers. “Oh, she’s staying,” he said without hesitation.

Telemachus, without even opening his eyes, grimaced faintly. “Yeah. She’s definitely staying.”

Klytos quirked a brow, adjusting Thalina as she wiggled against his chest. “You both sound so sure. Circe doesn’t exactly strike me as the most generous foster mother when it comes to her nymphs.”

Antinous snorted. “No, normally she isn’t.”

“But,” Telemachus added, cracking an eye open now, “we’re not exactly dealing with normal circumstances.”

Klytos tilted his head. “What do you mean?”

Antinous leaned back on one hand, smirking as he stared into the firelight. “Let’s just say… with the amount of flirtation Circe is aiming at both of my future in-laws, I get the distinct impression she’s looking to stay in Ithaca for a while.”

Telemachus groaned dramatically, covering his face with a hand. “She called my father ‘a fine slab of heroic tragedy’ to his face. I thought he was going to faint.”

“And your mother,” Antinous added with a grin, “she’s somehow even worse. Circe said Penelope has ‘a voice made for lullabies and threats.’” He paused, then muttered, “She’s not wrong.”

Klytos let out a short laugh. “So you’re saying Thalina staying with you is a side effect of Circe trying to seduce your parents?”

Telemachus let out a long suffering sigh. “I don’t think it’s a side effect. I think it’s the plan.”

Thalina, who had been listening despite pretending not to, perked up in Klytos’s arms. “Mama Circe says if Mr. Odysseus lets her braid his hair, she’ll stay forever!”

Antinous and Telemachus burst out laughing.

“She’s halfway to ruling the palace already,” Antinous said.

“She’s four,” Telemachus replied, “and I’m terrified of her.”

Thalina beamed.

Klytos grinned and leaned back, holding her close. “Well, good. I think she belongs with you weirdos anyway.”

Thalina nodded sagely. “I do.”

And somehow, in that little moment by the fire, with laughter on the wind and love layered between every glance, it felt like the truth.
Meanwhile, back at the palace
Odysseus was strolling down the marble hallway, arms crossed behind his back and humming a sea shanty under his breath. The day had been quiet. Too quiet. But that didn’t stop him from smiling when he saw Penelope approaching from the far end of the corridor, her dark hair bouncing with every determined step.

“Hello, Penelope,” he greeted, warmth in his voice.

She didn’t answer.

Instead, she launched forward, wrapped her arms around his waist, and with strength born of twenty years of annoyance and love swept him right off the ground.

“Whoa!” he squawked, flailing slightly. “Penelope! Gods, at least let me land a foot!”

But she was already halfway down the corridor, bridal carrying her very confused husband with a warrior’s determination.

“Is this about the missing wine?” he asked nervously. “Because that was definitely Menelaus”

“Nope,” she said, popping the “p” and pushing open the door to their bedroom with her hip.

He didn’t get a chance to ask more. She tossed him onto their bed, and he bounced once, grinning up at her with a mix of confusion and delight.

“Well, well,” he said, his tone teasing. “Penelope, you know I’m far too shy for this kind of behavior”

He turned his head, prepared to wink flirtatiously, only to freeze mid wink.

Because lounging luxuriously on the other side of the bed, head propped in her hands, ankles crossed behind her in the air, was Circe.

Smiling.

Watching him.

“AH !” Odysseus yelped, flinging the blanket over his lap as if shielding his dignity. “Circe?! What are you doing here?! this is my bedroom!”

Circe gave him a languid shrug, smiling like she owned the place. “I was invited.”

“Invited?!” he turned to Penelope with wide eyes. “By who?!”

Penelope climbed onto the bed beside him, looking far too pleased with herself. “Me.”

Odysseus looked between them, utterly baffled. “Why?”

“I want you two to kiss,” Penelope said sweetly, as if asking him to pass the salt.

Odysseus blinked. Once. Twice. “I’m sorry. What?”

“You heard me.”

“I thought you were dragging me here for our kiss! A normal, married person kiss!”

“Oh, we’ll get there,” Penelope replied, waving him off with a smirk. “But first, I want to see you kiss her.”

Circe raised her brows playfully. “You did say you missed me.”

Odysseus made a noise that could only be described as a strangled choke. “I said I missed talking to you! I did not say anything about look, I’m a loyal man!”

Penelope leaned in closer, whispering against his ear. “It’s just a kiss.”

“A kiss from Circe!” he hissed.
Penelope and Circe exchanged a knowing look over his head, both of them smiling with infuriating calmness.

Odysseus groaned, flopping back into the pillows. “I hate it here.”

Penelope climbed on top of him, pinning him with her knee and kissing his forehead. “No, you love it.”
Circe blew him a kiss.
He did, in fact, love it.
He just wouldn’t admit it yet.

Chapter Text

Hello my dear garden I am about to travel and won’t be updating till I get to Ithaca, so wish me luck love you all!

Chapter Text

The sun had fully set by the time Antinous, Telemachus, Thalina, and Klytos made it back to the house, their clothes now fully dry and smelling faintly of fire and fresh lake air. Thalina rode on Klytos’s shoulders, giggling each time he bounced her slightly, while Telemachus and Antinous walked side by side, their hands occasionally brushing but not quite linking though both seemed aware of the others grin.

When they stepped inside, they were immediately greeted by the warm scent of spiced stew and baked flatbread. The table was set, and Asteria was fussing over the placement of the bowls while Mahdokht stirred a final pot with practiced ease.

“There you are,” Mahdokht said sweetly, smiling at her son. “Just in time.”

She set down the ladle and looked over at Antinous with a gentle twinkle in her eyes. “Antinous, dear would you mind playing the lyre for me? You haven’t in so long.”

Antinous blinked. His ears turned a shade pinker, and he rubbed the back of his neck. “Mama…” he started to protest, but her smile only widened.

“Please?” she added with a tilt of her head.
That did it.
“Yes, Mama,” he muttered, cheeks fully flushed now.
He crossed the room and picked up the well worn lyre hanging from a hook in the corner, brushing his fingers over the strings in a gentle, affectionate test. The room quieted, even Thalina turning her golden eyes toward him with quiet excitement as she plopped herself down next to Telemachus.

Antinous adjusted the instrument, took a breath, then started to strum.

The first notes were soft, familiar Teledmachus recognized the tune almost instantly, and his heart clenched.

And then Antinous began to sing, voice low and rough edged, but achingly sincere

I saw the way you looked at me, like I was the villain in your tale, A shadow lurking in your home, a storm that only brings you hail.
And maybe that’s exactly right, maybe I’m no better than they say
A man who takes, a man who lies, who only stands in others’ way.
But you stand so tall, you shine so bright,Like the dawn that burns away the night.And I? I only know how to destroy, How could you ever see more in a boy
Who’s just a man, who’s selfish, cruel, and vain?
A man who twists the truth to gain,
A man who’s feared, not loved, not brave
And yet you look at me that way.
Like I could be more, like I could change,
But gods don’t save the ones they blame
And I am just a man.
There was no dramatics, no performance. It was simple. Intimate. And all the more powerful because of it. His eyes lifted as he sang the next line, locking with Telemachus’s

I’ve laughed at kindness, scoffed at grace, I’ve turned my back on what is right.
I wear my armor like my skin, and bare my teeth before I bite.
I’ve spent my life just climbing higher, never afraid to sacrifice my life
And if I fell if I should break would it be you who’d catch me, though?

Telemachus’s breath caught in his throat. The room fell away. There was no table, no stew, no curious siblings or beaming mother. Just Antinous and his voice.

“I’m just a man And I’m doing what I can To keep your heart within my hands
But sometimes I’m afraid that one day you will have wish you had just ran.

Mahdokht had a hand over her heart, her expression soft and proud. Asteria watched with wide eyes, her lips parted slightly, like she couldn’t believe her gruff older brother was singing like this so raw, so open.

That I’m just a man, who’s selfish, cruel, and vain? A man who plays a losing game, A man who’s doomed to be erased Yet you still whisper my name, Like I’m worth more, like I could change, But gods don’t save the ones they blame And I am just a man.If I were stronger, if I were wise,Would you still see me with those eyes?
Or is it mercy, is it fate That makes you hesitate?
I’m just a man, who’s selfish, cruel, and vain, A name that history will shame,
A heart that’s learned too late to care
And yet, you’re still standing there.

At that, Antinous looked to Telemachus again and then to Thalina, who tilted her head with a soft smile, recognizing the melody now and humming along quietly.

“I’m just a man. But I would fight the gods and fall
If it meant I’d get to love you
Through it all
I see the way you look at me
Like I could be more than just a man.
His voice trailed gently as he finished, letting the final chord hum in the air. The silence that followed was reverent.

Telemachus stood slowly, crossing the room to kneel in front of Antinous. He didn’t speak. Just leaned up and gave him a chaste kiss before hugging him tightly.

No one protested.
When they pulled apart, Antinous whispered, slightly breathless, “You like it?”

“I loved it,” Telemachus said softly. “You’re just a man. But you’re my man.”
Thalina threw her arms in the air. “Again!” she squealed. “Sing the wolf song!”

Chapter Text

Hello my loves, it’s getting to the time of year again where my midterms are coming around for a lot of my classes so with this in mind I will most likely not be posting every day and will probably be closer to every other day. I love you all so much hope your day is going amazing!

Chapter Text

Telemachus, ever the opportunist, swung a leg over Antinous’s lap and made himself comfortable, draping his arms over his lover’s shoulders like he belonged there which, of course, he absolutely did. He let his fingers idly twist a strand of Antinous’s dark hair, humming as he leaned in closer, a playful glint in his eye.
“So, my love,” he began in an exaggeratedly thoughtful tone, “how exactly did you come up with that song?”

Antinous blinked, furrowing his brows as if the question had physically wounded him. He opened his mouth, then shut it again, clearly trying to grasp at something slippery in the depths of his mind. After a long pause, he finally said, “What’s that stupid thing you do when you tell somebody what really happened, even if you could get in trouble?”

Telemachus just stared at him.

“…You mean telling the truth?”

Antinous did a little frog blink before he snapped his fingers. “Yes! That! That’s what I did.”

A beat of silence followed.

From across the room, Mahdokht let out an amused chuckle behind her hand, while Asteria, who had been taking a large swig of water such an aggressive choking noise that Klytos actually turned to look at her with concern.

“Oh by the gods,” Asteria groaned, rubbing her temples as if she suddenly had the worst headache of her life. “He’s hopeless.”

Mahdokht nodded in solemn agreement.

Telemachus, meanwhile, just squinted at Antinous, lips pressed together in what could only be described as exhausted fondness. He sighed heavily, shaking his head. Laying his head on his shoulder.

“You know,” he said, leaning in just a little closer, “sometimes I wonder if you pretend to be like this on purpose.”

Antinous smirked. “What, irresistibly charming?”

“No, dense.”

Asteria let out the most suffering noise yet.

Antinous huffed, placing his hands on Telemachus’s waist. “And yet,” he said, grinning up at him, “you still fell for me.”

“Hard,” Telemachus agreed. Then, after a deliberate pause, he leaned in just a little closer, voice dropping to a hushed, conspiratorial whisper.

“And I was pushed.”

Antinous gasped, placing a hand over his heart like he’d been personally betrayed. “How dare you suggest such a thing?”

Telemachus rolled his eyes. “You literally tripped me.”

“I assisted fate,” Antinous said smoothly, tilting his head as if he truly believed this was a noble act.

“Oh, is that what we’re calling it now?”

“Yes,” Antinous said, nodding. Telemachus looked at him “you said no prince no problem”
Antinous nodded again. “Exactly.”

Asteria, who had now buried her face in her hands, made a strangled noise. “I can’t listen to this,” she muttered, standing up and storming off as if she were escaping a battlefield.

Klytos, who had been throwing Thalina into the air and catching her this entire time, just laughed. “You two are exhausting.”

Mahdokht, sipping her drink, smirked. “Yes, but at least they’re entertaining.”

Antinous turned back to Telemachus with an entirely too satisfied grin. “See? They love us.”

Telemachus exhaled through his nose, his head dramatically tilting back like he was asking the gods for patience. Then he sighed, looking back down at Antinous with a small, reluctant smile. “You’re lucky I love you.”

Antinous smirked, pulling him closer. “That,” he said, “I already knew.”

Chapter Text

The room was dim, bathed in soft golden light from the hearth that had long since begun to flicker low. Telemachus lay nestled against Antinous’s chest, his hand splayed lazily over the other man’s heart, rising and falling in time with each slow breath. Antinous’s arm was draped protectively around him, their legs tangled well, mostly tangled. Because curled like a little cat at the foot of the bed, her arms hugging Antinous’s shins and her tail wrapped tightly around Telemachus’s arm like a soft bracelet, was Thalina.
Her wild blonde curls were a tangled halo around her head, and her tiny claws, barely noticeable but definitely present, were dug into Antinous’s leg like she was trying to anchor herself to him in her sleep. Telemachus glanced down at the tiny, sleeping form, her cheek smushed adorably against Antinous’s calf, one hand still clutching what looked to antinous suspiciously like his own childhood blanket

He smiled, then shifted just a little, stretching his neck so he could murmur into Antinous’s ear, “Are you happy she’s back with us?”
Antinous’s arm tightened around him slightly. “Yeah,” he said softly, and then, after a pause, “Although I’d be a lot happier if she was cuddled up with me and not my shins. Her little claws are digging into me like I’m a tree trunk.”
Telemachus let out a muffled laugh, scooting closer and tucking his face into the crook of Antinous’s neck, his hand drifting up to squeeze his shoulder. “Yeah,” he whispered, “but it’s nice she’s here, isn’t it?”
Antinous tilted his head, brushing his lips against Telemachus’s hair. “Yeah,” he repeated. “I’m just happy we’re all here. Together.”
There was a quiet hum of agreement between them as they both settled in further, the bed warm and quiet and smelling faintly of sea salt and firewood.

Then, Antinous added, “Although I’m not gonna lie. I do kinda miss your dad waking me up at the asscrack of dawn.”
Telemachus pulled back slightly, his nose scrunching up in visible disgust. “Why in Hades would you miss that?”

Antinous smirked, his hand lazily rubbing circles into Telemachus’s back. “I dunno. It’s nice. Like I’m seeing a glimpse of my future.”

Telemachus did a frog blink very reminiscent of his lovers “and by that you mean?”

“I mean,” Antinous murmured, lips brushing against his forehead, “energetic in-laws, loud little sea nymphs stealing the blankets, you stealing all the good pillows”

“I do not!”

“and me waking up with you in my arms every day.” He paused, grin widening. “Even if it means getting kicked in the ribs and clawed in the shin by a four year old.”
Telemachus shook his head, but he couldn’t stop the smile from blooming on his lips. He kissed Antinous’s jaw, soft and quick.

“Guess we better start getting used to it,” he said.

Antinous chuckled, then added slyly, “And hey your dad’s not bad looking. At least now I know what I’m in for when you’re older.”

Telemachus blinked, narrowed his eyes, and pulled back a little. “Wait. Are you saying my dad is hot?”

Antinous didn’t miss a beat. “I mean Penelope had to have been waiting for something for twenty years.”

Telemachus shoved him. “Oh my gods, you are calling my dad hot!”

Antinous laughed, rolling slightly to pin Telemachus with his arm. “Relax! I’m just saying if you turn out anything like him, I can live with that.”
Telemachus groaned, burying his burning face into Antinous’s chest. “I am never letting you near him without supervision again.”
Antinous grinned, smug and satisfied. “Better keep me close then, husband!

Always and forever my husband.
I know.”

Chapter Text

In the soft golden haze of morning, the palace was still and quiet. The only sounds were the faint rustling of curtains in the breeze and the occasional creak of old wood settling. In the royal bedchamber, Penelope lay curled against Odysseus, her fingers lightly trailing over his chest as they relaxed in the warmth of shared silence.
Across from them, pressed snugly up against their bed but entirely her own space, was a smaller though no less ornate version of it. Carved with the same careful hands that had once built their marriage bed, the miniature frame held a lounging Circe, hair fanned out like a halo, one arm thrown over her face dramatically as she muttered something incoherent in her sleep.
Odysseus turned his head slightly, watching her with a squint. “I still don’t understand why she couldn’t just sleep here,” he muttered. “Why did I have to carve her an entire bed? It’s practically a shrine.”

Penelope chuckled, her breath warm against his skin. “Because, my wanderer,” she said, tracing lazy circles across his chest, “you’re a sweet man. And because you know she doesn’t like to be touched while she sleeps.”

Odysseus made a face. “I offered her a whole guest wing. A room with a view of the sea. Fluffy pillows. A vase. You saw the vase.”

“She doesn’t want the sea,” Penelope said, voice soft and amused. “She wants to be near us. She just doesn’t want to touch us while doing it.”

He sighed dramatically. “I feel like I’m a character in some bizarre domestic comedy. Two wives. One bed. One dramatic sorceress on the side.”

“She’s not just your wife,” Penelope said with a sleepy smile. “She’s Circe.”

“Which makes it worse.”

They lay in comfortable silence for a beat until Odysseus groaned again and buried his face in Penelope’s hair. “I had to handsand the wood, Penelope.”
“I know.”
“She asked for rounded corners and a dolphin carved into the headboard.”
“I know.”
“She’s a full grown sorceress and I made her a toddler sized bed.”
Penelope giggled. “It’s cozy sized.”
He tilted his head up just enough to peek over at Circe’s slumbering form. “She’s not even using the dolphin pillow.”

Penelope reached up and kissed the corner of his mouth. “You did a good thing, my love.”

“I did a weird thing.”

“Yes,” she said with a smirk. “But a kind one. And that’s why she’s here. Because she knows she’s safe with us. Even if she insists on pretending she’s just casually ‘lounging’ five feet away every night.”

Circe, somehow still asleep, turned and gave an exaggerated sigh, flopping dramatically onto her back like a fainting heroine.

Odysseus stared. “Tomorrow,” he mumbled, “I’m sewing a curtain.”

Chapter Text

Telemachus ran his fingers slowly through Antinous’s hair, threading through the soft dark strands with a gentle, absent rhythm. Antinous lay with his face squished into Telemachus’s chest, one arm curled possessively around his waist, the other sort of flopped across the mattress like he’d forgotten it existed. He was very clearly on the edge of sleep his breathing slow, his words starting to slur even before he spoke.

Thalina was curled up at the bottom of the bed again, her wild blonde curls fanned out like a halo across the blanket. Her tail had snaked its way around Telemachus’s arm, little claws gently clinging to Antinous’s shin. One of those claws twitched in her sleep, and Antinous flinched.

“She’s digging into my leg,” he mumbled sleepily, voice muffled against Telemachus’s tunic. “Is this how she shows love? With tiny stabbing?”

“She’s four,” Telemachus said with a grin, “and part nymph. So yes.”

“Figures,” Antinous muttered. “I’m just glad she didn’t pinch me this time.”

There was a comfortable silence for a while, the only sounds the soft rustling of blankets and Thalina’s occasional sleep sighs, which sounded suspiciously like giggles.

Then, after a pause, Telemachus brushed a hand down Antinous’s back and asked softly, “So what do you want to do for our wedding?”

“Mmm?” Antinous lifted his head slightly, blinking blearily. “What, like right now?”

Telemachus gave a short laugh. “No, not right now. I mean eventually.”

Antinous blinked again and squinted like he was trying to see through time. “Well do we have to invite people?”

“Yes.”

“
Antinous let his head fall back down with a dramatic sigh. Your dad need to promise not to wake me up at the asscrack of dawn on our honeymoon.”

Telemachus grinned. “I’ll make sure he signs something in blood.”

“Good. Because I already planned the honeymoon. It involves exactly seventy four hours of uninterrupted naps. After the love making”

Telemachus snorted. “That’s not a honeymoon, that’s a coma.”

“Exactly,” Antinous said, grinning against Telemachus’s chest. “Romantic coma.”

Telemachus rolled his eyes. “You’re ridiculous.”

Antinous tilted his head up, eyes half lidded and full of sleepy mischief. “Only for you, pretty boy.”

“Don’t call me pretty boy

“I will never stop.”

Telemachus gave his shoulder a light shove. “Seriously though. The wedding. What do you want to do?”

Antinous yawned and flopped dramatically onto his back, one arm still somehow clinging to Telemachus. “I don’t care. Whatever you want.”

Telemachus raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean you don’t care?”

Antinous, eyes closed, waved a lazy hand. “I mean I don’t care if we do it on a beach or a hill or the roof of the palace with Circe officiating while wearing a swan suit. As long as I get to call you my husband at the end of it, it’s perfect.”

Telemachus stared down at him, lips twitching. “You really don’t have any preferences?”

“Well,” Antinous said, turning to him with a smirk, “maybe something that doesn’t involve a lot of standing. Or speeches. Or walking. Can we get married while lying down? That would be ideal.”

Telemachus laughed. “Soa bed ceremony?”

“Now you’re speaking my language.”

He reached up and tapped Telemachus’s chin. “Also. You’re not getting out of this conversation without me telling you something important.”

“What?”

Why are you so pretty.

Telemachus groaned and shoved a pillow in his face. “Go to sleep, Antinous.”

Antinous yawned again, already snuggling closer. “Can’t. There’s a crab girl clinging to my leg.”

“She’s your daughter now, deal with it.”

He smiled as Antinous drifted off again, face smushed into his shoulder. The warmth of the room, the soft sounds of breathing, the faint tangle of a tail around his arm it was enough.

Everything was more than enough.

Chapter Text

The bed creaked violently under the sudden jof a new weight dropping onto it more specifically, onto Odysseus.
He woke with a loud oof, his limbs flailing beneath the covers as someone a someone far too delighted for this hour of the morning planted herself directly on his chest.
Penelope, still half asleep and comfortably warm under her blankets, let out a groggy sigh. “Gods help me, Circe…”

Circe was grinning. Her wild, copper curls stuck out in every direction from sleep, her night robe hanging slightly off one shoulder. She looked utterly unbothered by the early hour or the chaos she had just caused. In fact, she looked positively radiant.

“They’re coming home tonight!” she declared with a giddy squeal, bouncing lightly on top of a wheezing Odysseus, who was trying to sit up without flinging her across the room.

“Circe,” he coughed, eyes still crusty with sleep, “I need my ribs intact for the celebration…”

But even as he complained, a grin began stretching across his face, wide and boyish, eyes lighting up as her words sank in.

“Wait. You’re right,” he said, pushing himself upright, Circe sliding down into his lap with a triumphant hum. “They are coming home.”

From somewhere beneath the covers, Penelope let out a muffled groan and dragged a pillow over her face.

Circe, now practically vibrating with excitement, turned her head toward her. “Penelope! Penelope, they’re coming back! Our babies!”

“I know, Circe,” came the muffled reply. “I knew before you crushed my husband in his sleep.”

But her complaint was ignored.

Odysseus had jumped out of bed, dragging Circe with him, both of them barefoot and disheveled. With absolutely no rhythm but a dangerous amount of enthusiasm, they began spinning in clumsy circles on the woven rug in the middle of their chamber, laughing like children.

“My boy is coming home!” Odysseus shouted.

“My baby is coming home!” Circe echoed, her laughter loud and unrestrained.

Penelope finally peeked from under her pillow, squinting one eye open to see them Odysseus in his worn night tunic, hair sticking up in all directions, and Circe, still barefoot, giggling and grabbing his hands as they danced in increasingly wild spirals.

“You two are deranged,” she mumbled, but her voice was fond.

They didn’t hear her or more likely, didn’t care.

Odysseus let go of Circe’s hand and did an awkward little hop step that looked more like a pirate limping than any formal dance. Circe gasped with laughter, nearly falling over
Odysseus grinned, coming to kneel beside the bed. “I’m a fool in love with two maddening women.”

Circe flopped dramatically onto the rug, one hand draped over her face like a tragic heroine. “And we’re so grateful.”

Penelope finally sat up properly, her long hair cascading over her shoulders. She watched them her mad, loving husband and witch wife couldn’t help the smile that broke across her face.

She stood slowly and padded over, leaning down to pull Odysseus into a quiet embrace, resting her head on his shoulder. Circe, still sprawled like a cat across the floor, reached out and grabbed Penelope’s wrist, tugging her down gently until they were all tangled together in a quiet, laughing pile of limbs and warmth.

“They’re really coming home,” Penelope whispered, more to herself than anyone.

Odysseus kissed the top of her head. “Our son. Our lion. Our little nymph.”
“And our chaos,” Circe added, voice drowsy now that her excitement had waned slightly.

They stayed there for a long, quiet moment. Just the three of them. A king, a queen, and a witch lying in a heap on the cold stone floor, surrounded by love, madness, and the scent of early morning.
Penelope sighed again, this time with contentment.
“Alright,” she murmured, “If we’re going to be ridiculous, at least one of you put a kettle on.”
Circe opened one eye and with a snap and smile.
“Done”

Chapter Text

Telemachus was chopping vegetables with surprising focus for someone so thoroughly untrained in kitchen work. Asteria, her pregnant belly comfortably balanced against the edge of the counter, was supervising with the kind of serenity that only a woman who’d grown up amidst shouting matches, surprise dinner guests, and one wild almost feral brother could possess.

“Not too thick, not too thin,” she instructed, dicing garlic with practiced precision. “We want the flavors to seep in, not drown.”

Telemachus nodded, mirroring her careful strokes. “I didn’t realize cooking required so much precision.”

“It doesn’t,” she said, glancing at him with the dry amusement of an older sibling, “you’re just overthinking again, little prince.”

He opened his mouth, ready to throw back a clever reply, when the front door slammed open hard enough to rattle the hinges.

The knife in Telemachus’s hand slipped sideways and just barely missed taking the tip off his finger.

A woman stormed into the kitchen with all the dramatic flair of a peacock. She was tall, even taller than Asteria by a good four inches and while she had the same general features full lips, straight nose, sharp brows everything about her was honed, sharper, less softened by warmth. Her caramel toned skin contrasted with the pristine ivory folds of her traditional Greek chiton, golden cuffs glinting at each wrist. Her hair was swept up tightly, not a strand out of place.

Where Asteria moved with calm confidence, this woman moved like a whip crack.

Telemachus instinctively stepped back behind the counter, unsure whether to greet her or brace for impact.

The woman didn’t spare him so much as a glance. She marched straight toward Asteria, one finger stabbing the air like she was delivering a royal edict. “Why the hell is Dad going around bursting into my home scaring my children, mind you! And screaming about how our stupid brother is engaged to a man?!”

Asteria blinked. Once. Twice. Frog blinked.

Then turned back to her garlic, calmly swiping it into a clay bowl. “Because he is,” she said with all the tranquility of a woman who didn’t just have someone burst into her kitchen.
The woman stared. “Excuse me?!”

Asteria looked back up, tilting her head like she was trying to decide whether her sister had hit her head on the way in. “I said,” she repeated, enunciating like she was speaking to a very small, very slow child, “because. He. Is. Engaged to a man. A prince, actually. Telemachus, you knowthis guy.” She waved vaguely with the blade of her knife toward where Telemachus stood frozen like a deer in a temple courtyard.

Telemachus offered a nervous smile and lifted his hand in a polite wave. “Hello.”

The woman narrowed her eyes, scrutinizing him. She looked him up and down.
He waved again.
Her eyes narrowed further. “You’re the prince of Ithaca.”
“Last I checked.”
“You’re marrying Antinous.”
“Yes.”
Her eye twitched. “Voluntarily?”
Telemachus’s grin widened. “He has surprisingly soft hair.”
There was a beat of silence so profound you could’ve heard a coin hit the floor.

The woman dragged both hands down her face with a groan. “Of course. Of course it’s the prince of Ithaca. I take six months off..!six! to recover from giving birth, and then I come back to this mess.”

Asteria let out a long-suffering sigh, wiping her hands on a towel. “Aridrenne,” she said, her tone full of exhausted sisterly affection, “if you start yelling in my kitchen, I swear on the gods, I’ll make you scrub my floors with a pine needle.”

“You’re seven months pregnant. You don’t scare me.”

“I’m your poor, first time pregnant little sister. What would Mother think about the stress you’re causing me?”

That shut her up faster than anything else could’ve.

Aridrenne scowled but didn’t argue, because even she knew invoking Mahdokht was a cheap but unbeatable move. Instead, she turned her scrutiny back to Telemachus, who was now cutting a cucumber with extra care.

“So,” she said slowly, folding her arms, “you’re going to be my brother in law.”

Telemachus nodded.

“You do know what kind of chaos you’re getting into?”

“Oh, absolutely,” Telemachus said, setting the knife down and stretching his back. “But Antinous was worth every war game, every dinner with his father, every unhinged comment.”

Aridrenne blinked.

Then she let out a sharp laugh. “Well. That explains a lot.”

Asteria snorted behind her hand.

“I guess if you’re serious about him,” Aridrenne added, crossing the kitchen and leaning against the table, “I’ll have to get used to it.”

Telemachus stepped forward, sincerity softening his face. “I’m more than serious. My father’s determination to get home will pale in comparison with the determination i will face your family with if I have to.”
Aridrenne blinked again.

Then she rolled her eyes with a scoff. “Gods. Stop being so noble about it. You’re already family. Antinous is a walking fire hazard, but fine. If you want him, you’re stuck with the rest of us.”

Telemachus grinned. “I know more than one way to handle him.”

“Too much information!” Asteria cried, flinging a dishtowel with perfect aim at his face.

Aridrenne finally cracked a real smile.

“Well,” she muttered, “this is going to be interesting.”

And from the kitchen doorway, where he had been very unsubtly eavesdropping, Antinous leaned in with a lazy grin scratching his ass “Did someone say disaster?”
Telemachus groaned.
Asteria smirked.
Aridrenne rolled her eyes so hard it was a miracle they didn’t stay that way.
Aridrenne finally turned to Telemachus, offering her hand with a crooked smile. “By the way, I’m Aridrenne. Eldest daughter of this gloriously unhinged family youre about to be married into.”

Telemachus shook her hand with a half smile. “Prince of Ithaca. Only child of two people who are simps for each other an even more unhinged royal house. Pleasure to meet you.”

Aridrenne snorted. “We’re going to get along just fine.”

Chapter Text

Telemachus lounged comfortably on the plush couch, his posture relaxed as he sank into the cushions. Aridrenne sat at the opposite end, propped elegantly against the armrest, her posture graceful and dignified despite the chaos of earlier. Between them, Thalina nestled happily in Telemachus’s lap, humming softly to herself and occasionally batting at his loose curls, fascinated by the strands of brown hair.
“So,” Telemachus began, shifting slightly to better face his new soon to be sister-in-law, “You mentioned something about giving birth six months ago congratulations, by the way how many children do you have now?”

Aridrenne’s expression softened immediately, her usually sharp features warming. “With this latest little bundle of joy and trouble, I now have four.”

Telemachus’s eyes widened in genuine surprise. “Four? Gods, you must have the patience of a saint. Antinous and I have trouble with just one.”

Thalina, hearing herself mentioned, perked up, blinking at Telemachus curiously.

Aridrenne chuckled, her eyes sparkling with amusement. “You learn patience quickly or insanity. It really depends on the day.”
Telemachus laughed gently, running his hand affectionately over Thalina’s blonde curls, earning himself a contented sigh from the little nymph as she squirmed to get even closer against his chest.

“That’s nice,” Telemachus said sincerely, still marveling a little at the thought of four children. “Big families always seemed so…lively.”

Aridrenne smiled, a bit wryly. “Oh, it’s lively, all right. Loud, messy, exhausting. But when you get tackled by three sticky toddlers all squealing that they missed you, you kind of forget all that.”
She leaned her head back against the armrest, her smile lingering fondly. “It’s worth it.”

For a moment, the room felt softer, the kind of warm, golden moment that Telemachus had always dreamed about. A family and future with the man he loved he was already almost there.

Aridrenne’s gaze dropped to Thalina, who was now tugging lightly on a loose thread on Telemachus’s tunic. Her little nose wrinkled in concentration.

“You have any little ones of your own yet?” Aridrenne asked casually, smiling over the rim of her cup.

Telemachus beamed proudly, immediately shifting Thalina more upright in his lap and raising her up just a little, like one might present a prized trophy.

“Just this one,” he said, ruffling her hair gently.

Thalina giggled, her finned ears fluttering as she reached up to boop Telemachus on the chin with one clawed finger.

Aridrenne tilted her head slightly, studying the little nymph more carefully now. Thalina, picking up on the motion, copied her exactly with a mischievous grin, a piece of her fluffy hair falling into her face.
“You’re so cute,” Aridrenne said, reaching out to gently tuck the stray lock behind Thalina’s ear.

“Oh!” Then she looked back up at Telemachus, arching an eyebrow. “I didn’t realize you were with a nymph before you were with my brother.”

Telemachus blinked. Once. Twice. Processing.

Then he hastily waved one hand, face flushing deep red. “Oh! No! no, no, no! That’s not!”

He glanced frantically down at Thalina, as if she might somehow clarify things, then looked back up.

“We adopted her!” he blurted. “I swear! She’s our daughter! Not not anything else! Your brother is the only one I’ve ever even thought of that way”

His voice cracked slightly, but he pushed through it, words tumbling out faster than his brain could sort them. “He’s the only person I’ve ever had romantic feelings for! In my whole life! For me, he’s the only attractive person in the world! No one else even exists to me!”

There was a short, stunned silence.

Telemachus, realizing exactly what he had just confessed in front of Antinous’s very intimidating older sister, turned an alarming shade of crimson. His ears positively glowed.

He scrambled, floundering like a fish tossed onto dry land. “N not that you aren’t beautiful too! You’re very beautiful! You’re you’re gorgeous, honestly, it’s just that I think your brother is hes”

Thalina, bless her tiny chaotic heart, had heard enough.

Giggling, she reached up with both hands and slapped her tiny clawed palms over Telemachus’s mouth, muffling his increasingly panicked rambling.
“Shhh!” she chirped brightly, wiggling onto his chest so she could pat his face. “You talk too much!”

Telemachus, eyes wide over her hands, gave Aridrenne a helpless shrug.

Aridrenne, for her part, was absolutely cracking up. She leaned back against the armrest, clutching her stomach from laughing so hard.

“You,” she managed to gasp between fits of laughter, “are so painfully in love with my brother, it physically hurts to watch.”
Thalina, still holding Telemachus’s face, nodded seriously. “He’s super duper in love,” she confirmed, as if it was some big, ancient truth she was entrusted to share.
Telemachus just groaned into her hands and let himself flop dramatically onto the couch, pretending to die of mortification.
Aridrenne wiped a tear from her eye and shook her head fondly. “Gods, he’s going to be impossible to live with when he hears about this.”
From the kitchen doorway, where he had been very quietly eavesdropping with a smirk the size of a ship’s saill.

Chapter Text

Meanwhile, back in the palace, the kitchen was in full chaos.
Eurycleia, apron dusted in flour and honey, had flour streaks on her cheeks and the intensity of a general preparing for war. The hearth was roaring, pots bubbling, dough rising, and ingredients scattered across every available surface. It should have been manageable if not for the two god touched disasters currently “helping.”

Odysseus stood behind her, peering over her shoulder like an oversized child with too much curiosity and too little actual usefulness. “Remember, Eurycleia, Telemachus likes honey,” he said for the third time that hour, nodding sagely as if it were some ancient truth. “You should definitely add more honey to the frosting.”

Eurycleia didn’t even glance up from the cake she was trying to ice. “Yes, Odysseus. I know Telemachus likes honey. I’ve only helped raise him since he was in swaddling cloth.”

Odysseus grinned, undeterred, popping a grape into his mouth. “Just making sure. You know he always made that little humming sound when something had honey in it.”
Eurycleia’s response was a low, tired grunt the kind only a woman who’d raised war heroes and once cleaned blood off a palace floor could produce. But before she could swat him away with her spoon, a sloshing noise made her freeze.

She turned her head slowly. Too slowly.

Circe, barefoot and radiant in her sea green robe, stood by the cake batter bowl, a full wooden bucket in her arms. The pungent smell hit a second before the words did.

“I’m just going to add these fish bones,” Circe said brightly. “Thalina likes the crunch.”

There was a heartbeat of stunned silence. The kind that carried across the kitchen like a tidal wave holding its breath.

Eurycleia blinked once. Twice. She looked Circe dead in the eyes the way only a woman who had lived through raising two royals and more importantly was heavily involved in rearing Odysseus could.

Circe paused.

“Perhaps I’ll make Thalina something separate,” she said slowly, lowering the bucket to the ground like it was full of sacred snakes. Eurycleia released a breath through her nose and smiled sweetly. “That sounds like a wonderful idea.”

Odysseus, already perched on a stool now eating walnuts with a mouth full said, “Maybe a nice soup for her? Or seaweed cookies? She likes those weird crunchy seaweed things.”

Circe’s eyes lit up. “Oh! I could fry those in eel oil!”

Eurycleia plastered on the most grandmotherly smile she could muster and pointed toward the back of the kitchen. “There’s a pan over there. Far over there. In the storage room. With the door.”

“Perfect!” Circe beamed, already skipping off, the fishbone bucket trailing behind her.

Eurycleia turned back to Odysseus. “You. Out.”

“But”

“Out, Odysseus.”

He raised both hands in surrender and backed toward the hallway, whistling innocently. “You know, the frosting could use cinnamon too…”

The door shut behind him before he could say more. Which was good because as soon as the door shut the spoon that had been thrown hit it.

Eurycleia took a deep breath. The chaos had quieted. The batter was still intact. The kitchen while resembling a battlefield had survived another ambush.

She looked up toward the ceiling.

“Gods,” she muttered, “just let me get through this welcome dinner without meeting my end.”

Chapter Text

Later that afternoon Odysseus was halfway through reorganizing a spice rack he had absolutely no business touching after being tossed out the first time that’s when Circe reentered the kitchen this time with a determined expression and a rolled up piece of parchment in her hand.
Without warning she thrust it into his chest.

“Here,” she said.

He blinked, taking the scroll. “What’s this?”

“A reversal spell,” she replied matter offactly, stepping back. “Read it out loud exactly three hours from now. No sooner, no later. Understood?”

Odysseus narrowed his eyes. “Circe, why do I need?”POOF! In a sudden puff of smoke and a glitter of greenish sparks, Circe vanished.
In her place, standing on the floor in a little circle of herbs and soot, was a baby pig.
A very smug looking, softly snorting, impossibly adorable baby pig with a faint shimmer of gold in her fur.
Odysseus blinked once. Then twice. Then
“Awwww,” he cooed, bending down and scooping her up like she was made of cloud fluff. She gave a delicate snort and wiggled slightly in his arms, but not enough to indicate any real protest. “Well, aren’t you just the cutest little curse wielding enchantress I’ve ever seen!”

Cradling her carefully, he all but jogged down the palace hallway, cooing nonsense words the entire way. “Who’s a good piggy? You are! Yes you are! Look at that snout! Such a clever little baby!”

He burst into the royal bedchamber where Penelope was brushing out her hair, completely unbothered by the whirlwind energy that had just entered the room.

“Penelope, look!” he announced triumphantly, holding up the pig like an offering.

She turned, warm smile already on her face. “Yes, my wanderer?”

He held the pig out further, grinning from ear to ear. “It’s Circe!”

Penelope blinked. “Now, Ody, I know she can be a bit brash, and unconventional but it’s hardly a fair to call her a pig”

“No, no, I mean literally,” he cut in, walking toward her with the pig. “She turned herself into a pig! On purpose! Gave me this reversal spell and everything.”

He handed over the parchment. Penelope scanned it, eyes widening slightly at the tiny doodles of pigs in the corners and Circe’s unmistakably loopy handwriting

Dearest Odysseus turn me back in three hours. Don’t mess this up. I swear to the gods if I end up roasting on a spit because you got distracted, I’ll haunt you into the next life. Kisses, Circe.

Penelope let out a slow breath, then looked down at the pig currently nestled into her arm. The piglet snuffled once and gently pressed her tiny nose to Penelope’s wrist.

“Oh,” she breathed, her face softening. “Well, she is adorable.”

She sat on the edge of the bed, pulling Circe gently into her lap and rubbing her belly with the ease of someone who’d raised a son who used to collect frogs in his tunic. Circe snorted contentedly and gave a little kick with her back legs.

Odysseus watched the scene unfold and narrowed his eyes suspiciously.

Penelope cooed, “Aren’t you just the sweetest little thing,” and tickled Circe under the chin. “My goodness, you’ve got such tiny hooves!”

Circe squealed delicately in approval.

And that was when it hit him.

Odysseus stared.

Penelope was cradling Circe. She was cooing at Circe. Circe, who’d been unusually fussy for days, Circe who kept nudging closer whenever Penelope was nearby, Circe who had in no uncertain terms invited herself into their bedroom.

“…Oh no,” he muttered.

“What’s wrong?” Penelope asked, eyes not leaving the pig.

He ran a hand down his face. “Nothing,” he said, watching the scene with dawning realization. “Just realizing I’ve been played.”

Penelope raised an eyebrow.

He gestured loosely toward the piglet. “She wanted cuddles and figured out a surefire way she’d get them from you was by becoming something small, harmless, and adorable.”

Penelope looked down at the piglet, who was now fully sprawled out in her lap, tail bouncing, tongue lolling like a happy puppy.

She smiled softly. “Three hours, you said?”

Odysseus nodded.

Penelope leaned back, settling comfortably with Circe curled up against her stomach.

“Good,” she said. “Because I’m not giving her back until then.”

And that’s how Circe, the terrifying, island owning sorceress who once turned his entire crew into pigs, ended up snuggled up in Penelope’s lap getting her ears scratched and plotting whatever ridiculous spell she’d try next.

Chapter Text

Penelope sat on the edge of their grand bed, her fingers gently brushing through the soft fur of the tiny piglet nestled comfortably in her lap. Circe in her current enchanted form snorted happily, eyes closing in bliss as Penelope’s hand scratched behind her ears. Her fur was remarkably smooth, soft as silk, and her tiny nose twitched with every scratch, a satisfied little oink escaping her every so often.

Odysseus lounged nearby, arms crossed over his chest, watching the scene with equal parts confusion and amusement. “I still can’t believe she did this,” he muttered, shaking his head. “One moment she’s storming around, and the next” He gestured dramatically toward the piglet. “Poof! Bacon.”

Penelope rolled her eyes, never pausing in her gentle stroking. “Oh hush, you know she’s always been dramatic.”

Odysseus chuckled, leaning back into the cushions. “Dramatic is an understatement. I just don’t get why she couldn’t just…you know, sleep in a bed. Like a normal person.” He winced, stretching his back experimentally, only to pause, brow furrowing. He stretched again, twisting at the waist, then even further, the joints cracking in a way that felt… good. Really good. Better than they had in years.Penelope raised an eyebrow. “What are you doing?” Odysseus glanced at her, still twisting his back. “My back,” he said, blinking in disbelief. “It doesn’t hurt.” Penelope paused in her petting, her hand stilling on Circe’s tiny back. “What?”

Odysseus nodded, stretching his arms over his head with ease. “It doesn’t hurt,” he repeated, eyes glimmering with astonishment. He turned toward the mirror on the wall, squinting at his reflection. “And gods, I swear I don’t have as many grey hairs.”

Penelope’s eyes widened. She glanced down at her own hands, palms rough and calloused from years of weaving and work. She turned them over, examining the creases, only to find… fewer of them. Her fingertips traced over her skin, the lines softer, the aches that usually plagued her joints mysteriously absent.

Her eyes shot back up to Odysseus, panic starting to creep into her voice. “Odysseus… what’s happening?”

His gaze flickered back to the tiny pig in her lap. His eyes narrowed. “Circe.”

The piglet, who had been blissfully enjoying her ear scratches, opened one eye lazily, snorting as if to say, Yes?

Odysseus didn’t waste a second. He grabbed the incantation paper she had given him, scanning the symbols and words, his eyes sharp with scrutiny. “Reversal spell,” he muttered under his breath, fingertips brushing over the runes. He stopped, his hand freezing over a small symbol etched in the corner. His face went pale.

Without hesitation, he read the words off the paper. “Με το διάταγμά μου σε ελευθερώνω από αυτό που σου έχει πεταχτεί.”

A shimmer of violet light enveloped the room, the air crackling with electricity. Penelope gasped, pulling her hands back as the piglet glowed, its tiny form shimmering with power. With a bright flash, Circe stood where the pig had been, brushing soot off her dress, looking remarkably unbothered.

“Has it been three hours already?” she asked innocently, stretching her arms above her head.

Odysseus glared, folding the incantation paper and waving it in her face. “No,” he snapped. “But I want answers.”

Circe raised a perfectly manicured eyebrow. “Answers? About what? My impeccable taste in transformation spells?” she mocked, inspecting her nails.

Odysseus stepped closer, his voice low and firm. “You gave me that roasted pig at dinner last month.” His voice was steady, but there was a tremor beneath it. “The one you insisted we eat. All of us. You wouldn’t let any of us leave without finishing it.”

Circe’s eyes flickered with mischief. “I do recall that, yes.”

“And after that” he gestured to his own body, then to Penelope’s hands. “We started feeling different. Younger. Less worn.”

Penelope’s eyes darted between the two of them, her heart racing. “What did you do, Circe?”

Circe straightened her back, crossing her arms. Her expression shifted, the playful glimmer dimming into something more somber, more raw. “I may have…slipped a bit of my blood into that roasted pig,” she admitted, voice dropping. “Just enough to link you to me.”

Penelope’s hands flew to her mouth. “Circe what does that mean?”

Circe held her gaze, her own eyes shimmering with something akin to vulnerability. “It means,” she said slowly, her voice cracking just a bit, “that you, Odysseus, Telemachus, Antinous, Menelaus, and Helen… I linked you all to my lifespan. You age like I do now.”

Odysseus stared, his jaw going slack. “You…you made us immortal?”

“Not immortal,” Circe corrected, her voice firmer. “Not entirely. But you’ll age like I do. You’ll live as long as I do. Your bodies will recover faster. Your pains will fade. Your live extended.”

Penelope’s eyes filled with tears, her hands trembling. “would you do that?”

Circe took a slow breath, her hands clasping in front of her. For once, there was no smug grin, no playful smirk. Just raw, unfiltered honesty. “Because I don’t have many people,” she whispered. “I’ve lived thousands of years watching everyone I’ve ever loved turn to dust.” Her voice wavered, cracking slightly. “I’m… I’m tired of losing people. I didn’t want to lose you too.”

Odysseus swallowed hard, his hands falling to his sides. “So you bound us to your life.”

Circe nodded, her gaze steady. “I did.”

“And… Telemachus?” Odysseus asked, his voice trembling. “Antinous? You bound them too?”

Circe’s lips quirked into a soft smile. “I wasn’t going to let you live forever and watch your son grow old and die,” she said simply. “Or watch Telemachus suffer while Antinous aged . I linked them too. As well as Helen and Menelaus.”

Penelope choked back a sob, tears streaming down her face. “you did this for us?”

Circe swallowed, her eyes shining. “Yes,” she said simply. “I did.”

For the first time in his life, Odysseus didn’t know what to say. His hands shook as he reached out, clasping Circe’s shoulders. He didn’t say thank you; he didn’t know how. He just pulled her into a tight embrace, and she stiffened for a moment before finally, finally, wrapping her arms around him.

Penelope joined them, wrapping her arms around both, and for a long moment, they just stood there, holding each other, saying nothing.

Because there were no words. Only the relief of not having to say goodbye.

Chapter Text

The road back to the palace was alive with the soft hum of the marketplace and the distant chatter of townsfolk winding down for the evening. The sun hung low in the sky, casting long shadows that stretched across the cobblestone path. Thalina, perched comfortably on Antinous’s broad shoulders, was humming a little tune to herself, her tiny hands occasionally patting his head as if he were some sort of noble steed. Antinous didn’t seem to mind in the slightest. In fact, he kept reaching up to steady her, his large hands easily encompassing her tiny ankles. Every now and then, she’d tug on his hair just to get a reaction, and he’d grunt and swat at her little hands playfully, making her giggle with glee.

Telemachus walked alongside them, his hands tucked behind his back, a lazy grin stretched across his face. “You know, I’ve never seen her this happy,” he mused, watching as Thalina chattered away about absolutely nothing, pausing every now and then to point out a particularly fat bird or a colorful flower.

Antinous rolled his eyes up toward her. “Well, she’s practically royalty now, isn’t she? Perched up here like a little queen.”

Thalina gasped, patting his head a bit harder. “I’m a queen?!” she asked with wide, astonished eyes.

Antinous chuckled. “Of course you are, little minnow.”

Telemachus snorted. “A queen of what, exactly?”

Thalina took a moment to think, her tiny brow furrowing before she declared proudly, “Queen of Fishes!”

Antinous grinned. “A very powerful title, indeed. I better not cross you, Your Majesty.”

Thalina puffed up her chest, straightening her back. “You better not!” she chirped, wiggling her legs slightly. “Or I’ll turn you into a fish!”

Telemachus laughed out loud at that. “You hear that, Antinous? You better watch yourself.”

Antinous tilted his head back, gazing up at her with a smirk. “I’d make a very handsome fish.”

Thalina nodded sagely. “The handsomest!” she agreed, patting his head as if she were blessing him.

They walked a little further, the palace now coming into view, its grand marble columns catching the last light of the day. Telemachus watched the path ahead with a fond expression, before suddenly pausing and sneezing, the sound startling a few birds out of the hedges.

Thalina gasped dramatically, gripping Antinous’s hair like reins. “Bless you!” she squeaked, leaning forward to look at him.

Telemachus sniffed, rubbing his nose. “Thank you, little minnow.”

Asteria, who had decided to join them for the walk back, chuckled from a few paces behind. “You know what they say about sneezing, don’t you?”

Telemachus looked back at her, eyebrow raised. “What?”

Asteria’s eyes twinkled with mischief. “Someone’s talking about you.”

Antinous raised an eyebrow, a grin spreading across his face. “Oh? You think the gossip is already spreading?”

Telemachus rolled his eyes, shoving his hands deeper into his pockets. “I get why they might be shit-talking you,” he said, tone light and teasing. “But me? I’m a saint.”

Antinous snorted so loudly that Thalina almost lost her grip. “A saint? You? Did you forget how you tried to kick all the suitors butts and when you were 17 you tried to punch a 40 year old man ?”

Telemachus scoffed. “That was strategy. You’re just…you.”

Antinous grinned wickedly. “Devastatingly handsome, charming, and now,” he glanced up at Thalina, who was braiding his hair haphazardly, “carrying royalty on my shoulders.”

Thalina giggled. “I’m Queen of Fishes!”

Asteria laughed, shaking her head. “I’m sure the palace will be thrilled to hear about your new title.”

Thalina gasped again, nearly yanking out a tuft of Antinous’s hair in her excitement. “They have to bow to me!” she declared, pointing dramatically ahead as if she were commanding troops.

Telemachus raised his hands in surrender. “I’ll bow,” he promised, voice dripping with exaggerated reverence. “All hail the Queen of Fishes.”

Antinous chuckled, glancing over at Telemachus with a grin. “Careful, little wolf. She’ll hold you to that.”

“Oh, I’m counting on it,” Telemachus shot back, eyes twinkling with mischief.

They continued their walk, the palace growing larger with each step. Thalina’s giggles and proclamations of royal authority filled the air, blending with Antinous’s teasing and Telemachus’s laughter. Just as they reached the grand marble steps leading to the entrance, Thalina leaned forward, whispering something in Antinous’s ear. He paused, blinking up at her in surprise. “Really?” he asked.
She nodded furiously.
Antinous glanced back at Telemachus with a grin. “Her Majesty demands that you carry her up the steps, Your Highness.”
Telemachus raised an eyebrow, arms crossing over his chest. “Oh? Is that so?”

Thalina nodded again, holding out her arms dramatically. “Up! Up!”

With a chuckle, Telemachus strode forward, gently lifting her off Antinous’s shoulders and cradling her in his arms like she was a crown jewel. “ well if that’s what her majesty wants than who am I to say no?”
She sighed happily, wrapping her arms around his neck.
Antinous watched them ascend the steps, his grin softening into something fonder, something deeper. He followed behind, hands in his pockets, head tilted back to admire the palace stretching before them. It was nice to see his family but this was home.

Chapter Text

The doors of the palace groaned open.
Warm light spilled out into the courtyard, catching on the dust kicked up by weary feet and worn sandals. The scent of roasted herbs and wood smoke drifted on the wind faint, but familiar. The moment held its breath.
Then Odysseus was running.a damn dot a first then larger until he was right at telemchus He didn’t hesitate. No royal posture, no composed kingly demeanor. Just a father. A father whose heart had been gnawed raw by uncertainty and fear that his son would chose to simply not to return home
“Telemachus!” he gasped.

Telemachus barely had time to react before Odysseus swept him into a crushing hug, arms tight and trembling. The young man was half lifted off the ground by the force of it.

“My son,” Odysseus choked. “My sonyou’re home.”

Telemachus didn’t resist. He clung back with a strong grip father’s shoulder like he used to when he was small and the world still made sense.

“Dad I was only gone a week,” he whispered. “And we are back for good.”
At the same time, a different cry rose softer but no less raw.
“Thalina!”
Circe’s voice cracked on the name as she rushed forward, skirts trailing behind her. She fell to her knees and opened her arms just in time for the girl to barrel into them, nearly knocking her over.

“Sweet sun and salt,” Circe sobbed, gathering Thalina close and running her fingers over her hair, her cheeks, her arms as if to make sure every part of her was still real, still whole. “You little nymph. I should turn you into coral for scaring me.”
Thalina grinned, tears sparkling in her eyes. “You wouldn’t.”
“I might,” Circe warned, voice shaking, “but first I’m going to hold you until my arms give out.”
Antinous stood just behind them, bags slung over one shoulder, watching it all.
The golden light framed him like a painting, but none of it touched him.
He shifted his weight. Cleared his throat. Nothing.
No one ran to him.
He stared at the cobblestones, jaw clenched, heart somewhere between his ribs and his boots.
“Well,” he muttered under his breath, voice dry and hollow. “Fuck me, I guess.”
Then a rustle of fabric.
Penelope had stepped forward.
Not quickly. Not with the sudden urgency of Odysseus or the frayed desperation of Circe. But with quiet certainty, like she’d been waiting for this moment longer than she dared admit.
She walked straight to him, her eyes shining not with tears, not quite, but with something deeper. Something harder to define maybe pride would be a good word for it.
Antinous didn’t move. Didn’t dare hope.

She reached out and pulled him into a hug.

Not polite. Not cold. Not for show.

Warm. Full. Real.

“Welcome home, Antinous,” she murmured against his shoulder. “You have been missed.”

For a second, he didn’t know what to do. His hands hovered uselessly before he finally let the bag slide off his shoulder and let himself lean into it into her.

Into the place that, for the first time in his life, maybe actually was home.
He didn’t trust his voice, so he just nodded.
Behind them, Odysseus and Circe were both sobbing now openly and unashamed and Eurycleia’s shout from the kitchen about not crying it will make them not be able to taste the stew the stew only made them laugh harder.

Chapter Text

Hello, I want to thank you all for your support, due to health issues( ao3 curse caught up with me)I will be putting a little pause on this I should resume hopefully sometime mid July bit I thank you for all your support and apologize for the delay and I’m excited for the future of this fic I have so many notes written down of little storylines I want to do.

Chapter Text

Dinner had turned into a celebration plates scraped clean, goblets constantly refilled, Thalina falling asleep halfway through her third honey cake while Circe whispered lullabies and stroked her hair. Eurycleia had fussed and wept and threatened exile if anyone so much as set a toe in her kitchen, and Odysseus had laughed like a man who finally remembered what joy tasted like. Penelope’s smile had lasted through the entire evening, even when her husband dropped a plate and Circe tried to turn it into a bird to prove a point although it was more likely an attempt to impress her loves.
Now, long after the laughter had faded into soft echoes and everyone had gone to bed, the night wrapped the palace in stillness.

Antinous sat perched on the edge of the roof, legs dangling over the side, elbows on his knees, chin tilted toward the stars. He hadn’t said where he was going after dinner. He didn’t have to. Telemachus knew exactly where to find him.
A soft clack of sandals on tile announced his arrival.

“You always find the highest point in the building, don’t you?”

He didn’t look back. Just smirked.

“Comes with being insufferably dramatic.”

Telemachus dropped down beside him, stretching his legs out to match his pose.

Telemachus smiled and looked out over the city. From here, the hills rolled like sleeping giants beneath the silver light of the moon. A few torches still burned near the docks. Crickets sang in the tall grass beyond the gates. It was quiet in a way that demanded nothing

“So you do admit it.”

“I never denied it,” Antinous said, flicking a pebble into the darkness below. “Just thought I’d earned it.”

They sat in silence for a few beats, the kind that didn’t need to be filled. Finally, Telemachus nudged him with his shoulder. “You okay?”

Antinous snorted. “Define ‘okay.’”Telemachus rolled his eyes. “You’re deflecting.”
Antinous smirked in a way that wasn’t his usual cocky smirk more sad“Only because you’re being nosy.”

“You look like you’re waiting for someone to tell you to leave.”
Antinous shrugged, gaze fixed ahead. “I’m used to being the shadow in the corner. The boy who wasn’t supposed to stay past supper. Or else they would have to worry about him sticking around for longer” Telemachus didn’t speak for a long time.

Then he said, quietly, “You’re not a shadow to me.”That made Antinous glance over. His eyes were sharp and searching, always a little too alert, like someone waiting for a punchline that might be a slap.“You mean that?”

Telemachus looked at him fully now, green eyes soft but unwavering. “I chose you for a reason”
Antinous scoffed, but there was no heat behind it. “Yeah, ‘cause I’m so charming and well mannered.”

Telemachus grinned. “That, and you can carry a small child on your shoulders without collapsing.”

“Barely.”

“You didn’t drop her.”

“Don’t tell her that,” Antinous muttered. “She’ll want a piggyback to Mount Olympus’s next.”

They both laughed quietly, but real. It echoed a little in the night air.

After a moment, Antinous leaned back on his palms and let out a breath.

“I keep thinking I’ll wake up,” he said. “That this’ll all be a dream. The palace, the food, your mother not stabbing me on sight” he paused like there was somthing in this throat “My father crying,” Telemachus added.

Antinous barked a laugh. “Yeah. That one really shook me alsmot as much as his affinity for a naked walk around the palace.”

Silence again. The serious kind.

Then Telemachus said, low and earnest, “Youre not a guest anymore, Antinous. You aren’t even only my partner, you’re just family”Antinous swallowed. His voice came out rough.

“Promise?”

Telemachus turned toward him, leaned in just enough for their shoulders to press.”I promise.”

Antinous blinked fast and looked away, pretending to focus on a star.

Then, with a grin returning to his lips, he said, “So how long do you think we have before Circe tries to adopt me and dress me in vines?” “Oh, she already claimed you,” Telemachus said. “You’re one potion away from being her ‘son of chaos and snark she might even make you sprout little ear fins like Thalina.’”

Antinous laughed again easier this time.
“Think she’ll let me pick my own room?”

“No,” Telemachus said flatly, smirking. “Because your bunking with me.” He paused for a moment before continuing “forever”

Antinous looked over, mockoffended. “What, that long? Telemachus chuckled “Don’t pretend you’re not thrilled.”
Antinous shoved him lightly. Telemachus shoved back harder. They wrestled for a second, until Antinous got Telemachus in a headlock, and both of them were breathless from laughing.
The stars above spun gently, and for the first time in a long while, neither of them felt like they were running from anything.
They had stopped. They were here.
Home.

Chapter Text

This isn’t a chapter but it is still important to read, I as you have noticed I have not updated for awhile and I feel it’s only fair you know why i have had some things going on in my personal life such as my health and now a very stressful situation with people in my life as well as school so I won’t be updating until late October, I apologize this is very disappointing for a lot of people. I am so sorry if I have let many of you down. I hope that you will continue to read my story when I do update it. You are all very much a part of my garden and influence me as a writer and for that I thank you.