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         “Odysseus,” Tiresias called as he was storming away from the prophet. He turns his head.

          “Take care of her. She is the strength you will need to return home.”

          “…I will.”

*—*

          “I was thinking my love,” Calypso drawled as she ran a finger over Odysseus’ chest, sweaty from their lovemaking (if you could call it that). “I get such pleasure from having you inside me, and I want you to feel that kind of pleasure too. So I was thinking, what if we switched places for a bit?” His overwhelming sorrow is interrupted by his confusion, “How?” She smiles as if the question was an admission of acceptance. “Like this,” She snaps her fingers, and he feels a prickling sensation in his lower body. He squeezes his eyes shut, letting the strange feeling run its course. Something hard presses against his hip, and he opens his eyes to the sight of the goddess with a cock between her legs and…and his own gone, replaced with a cunt. His heart pounds as she stares at him, flames of desire burning in her gaze. “Calypso, I-I enjoy having sex the way we always do, there’s no need for this…change,” He tries. She pouts condescendingly, “I know you do, but I don’t want us to get bored of the same old position. Let’s give it a try, I think it’ll be fun.” “Goddess please-“ “We’re doing it,” she snaps, eyes briefly glowing purple. He swallows and nods.

           Tears prick his eyes as she spreads his legs open, hunger in her gaze looking upon his new genitalia. He gasps when a finger plunges into him, and Calypso giggles. In quick succession she adds another finger and her thumb pressing on his clit, and he whimpers in shame as he becomes wetter as a result of her movements, unable to hold back moans of pleasure. He’s relieved when she finally stops the onslaught of her fingers, only for it to quickly vanish as she lines herself up with him. “I can’t wait to feel you dearest,” she smiles down at him, gripping his hips between her hands. “Please,” he begs, even though it’s never worked in the past. “Your wish is my command,” she says sweetly.

          Calypso shoves her cock into him, all the way to the hilt and all at once. Odysseus cries out in pain, tears falling down his cheeks. The goddess hardly notices, letting out a loud moan and talking about how good he felt and how tight he was and probably more that he couldn’t hear because of the blood pounding in his ears. She pulls out halfway and slams back into him, a sob escaping his lips. He tries to get her out of him, squirming and writhing, doing anything to take away the feeling of fullness, but Calypso is stronger than him and holds him in place for her to mercilessly thrust into.

           The fight leaves him as he feels something tear and blood trickle down his inner thigh, resigning himself to crying openly as the goddess pounds into his virgin cunt. After what feels like an eternity, her hips lose their ruthless rhythm and stutter, Her movements becoming more erratic until finally, she presses herself in to the hilt and fills him with seed. She pulls out and collapses beside him on the bed, blood and seed mixing on his thighs. The goddess praises his performance, before kissing his cheek and bidding him goodnight, leaving Odysseus to sob quietly till morning, unable to sleep from the pain and unable to leave due to the magic-sealed door.

*—*

          He thought that night would be the end of it, that she would give him his body back, but turned out she wanted more. She refused to turn him back into a full man, taking him every night, and always being sure to come inside him, claiming that now she would always be with him, deep inside his body. It made Odysseus want to throw up.

          And throw up he did. He thought nothing of it the first time, figuring his body was rejecting the fact that he’d refused to eat more than a couple bites in the last few days, combined with the nausea that arose thinking of nights on Ogygia. But then it started happening more and more often, combined with dizziness, heat spells, a sore chest, and fatigue. Calypso didn’t seem concerned or even surprised, just tending to his ailments like she had his injuries when he first washed up on her shores. Suspicion rang in the back of his head, but he wasn’t sure he wanted the answers to his questions.

          Finally, he worked up the courage to ask if she knew what was wrong with him. The goddess beamed, “Well isn’t it obvious silly? You’re pregnant!” Odysseus is sure his heart came to a full stop in that moment. Ringing filled his ears, his breath quickened, and he was lightheaded and Oh Gods it can’t be true- Her arms are around him all of a sudden, he must’ve nearly fainted, but she’s still smiling. “Aww, you’re so happy you nearly fainted! Must be more careful my love, falling wouldn’t be good for the baby.” A ghastly sound of despair breaks through the air, and Odysseus tears himself out of her arms and runs. He wishes he could run away from his own body, but he can’t. He has to stop after a bit, panting heavily, and collapses against a nearby tree, breaking down in sobs.

          Why? Why had the gods decided on this punishment of all things? Hadn’t he suffered enough for his actions? Was he doomed to suffer the rest of his life, never to see his wife and son again? He wouldn’t even want to see them now, because they’d look at him with disgust and shame, and he couldn’t bear that. But no, he had to see them again, even if only to gaze upon their beautiful faces as they cast him out. That would be enough for him. For them, he would endure.

—

          Odysseus passed the next nine months in a sickly, hopeless daze. The only upside was that Calypso bed him less, but sometimes she just couldn’t help herself. She tried to be doting, offering teas for nausea and massages for his aching feet, but he refused, the only power he had over her the risk of harming what was growing inside him. He had tried to expel it from his body once, but that attempt ended with him banned from sharp objects and leaving the palace for a month. So he endured, and tried his best to ignore the way his muscled abdomen softened and swelled, the way his chest morphed into breasts, the kicks that came from within. He languished, would have wasted away if not for Calypso forcing food down his throat, his frame thin despite his distended belly. Odysseus was miserable, wanted nothing more than to die, but the Gods were not so merciful.

—

          One day, he’s sitting in the gardens when he feels pain shoot through him. He winces, clutching at his swollen stomach. Calypso straightens up from where she’d been working with some flowers, “My love?” She gasps, “Is it time? Is the baby coming?” The words send panic flooding through him just as another pain, another contraction, hits. Somewhat irrationally, he did not want her anywhere near him in this state, he had to get away. The goddess stands ready to tend to him, but he stands too, with far more effort. “Stay away from me,” he growls, heaving for breath. “Ody you can’t-“ “I said stay the fuck away from me!” he shouts, probably looking like a cornered animal. She blinks, eyes briefly turning purple before fading back to green. “Very well. You know where to find me if you change your mind,” she says flippantly. It’s an out, and Odysseus would be damned if he didn’t take it. He takes off fast as he can into the forest, which in reality is him waddling quite slowly away from his captor. A sadistic chuckle reaches his ears, but he presses on, even as his belly tightens painfully.

          Odysseus screams as he clings to a tree, sweat pouring from every orifice in his body. The pain he feels now is the worst he’s ever felt in his life, even being impaled by a sword doesn’t compare. There’s a pressure building inside of him, and he pushes, squatting to alleviate the pain in his back. The effort leaves him panting, but he feels movement inside him. Encouraged, he bears down once more, which proves to be a terrible mistake as the space between his legs burns, and he screams in agony again. His legs buckle, and he slides down to sit back against the tree. “Penelope,” he cries weakly. From there the pain is so overwhelming that all he remembers is his body pushing on pure instinct and then a sudden feeling of emptiness, and the sound of a weak cry.

          Gasping for breath, he looks down and sees a tiny infant on the forest floor, crying, but not as loudly as Telemachus had. With shaking arms he picks it, her, up, and quickly notices that her left leg is not moving as it should. He gently touches it and she whimpers in pain. Odysseus shushes the girl, rubbing her back and chest in the hopes her lungs will clear and she will cry as she should.

           He found he did not want her to die, despite everything. He had suffered for far too long to bring her into this world, and the memory of the Trojan boy still lingered in his heavy conscience.

          He looks down upon her, and is struck by her beauty. It is not a divine beauty resulting from a resemblance to Calypso, no, she has his plain brown eyes and soft features. The goddess’ blood certainly shines through in some of her features, but from her weak leg to her eyes the color of damp earth, she is resoundingly imperfect and mortal, like Odysseus. She’s beautiful. “A child born of Calypso’s womb would belong to the gods, but you Kaia, shall be mine,” he whispers, and as he does she breaks into a loud wail. Tears of relief, pain, sorrow, and too many other emotions to name fall down his face. Instinctively, he guides the child to his breast, and she latches on hungrily, a strong will to survive despite her broken state. Seems it runs in the family.

—

          As Kaia sleeps snuggled against his chest, Odysseus sits frozen in fear as the goddess closes in on him. He has bore her a sickly, crippled girl child, and he fears what the consequences for such disrespect are. “My love?” she coos as she makes her approach, smiling wide. He doesn’t answer, just tightens his hold on the babe. “How’s our son? Oh, I can’t wait to see how much he looks like you!” Calypso grabs her from his arms and holds her up, like a child does with a new doll. He chokes down a sob as the babe begins to cry again. “A girl? and what’s wrong with her leg?” she frowns. “I am sure it is only-“ “A weakling, a child not fit for a goddess and king like you and I. Don’t be too hard on yourself my dear, so long at sea probably weakened your body. You rest, I will deal with this matter,” she says coldly, as if she doesn’t hold new fragile life in her hands.

          “No!” he cries. “Please goddess, have mercy, spare her. She is your blood, you cannot forsake that. It is my fault she is weak. Punish me for that, not the one who had no choice in the matter. Please, I beseech you o’ great and powerful goddess, please,” he begs. Calypso appraises his pitiful state, and sighs in exasperation. “Fine. But only because I love you, and hate to see you acting so pathetically.” She carelessly tosses Kaia back into his arms, and he breaks down in tears, sobbing loudly and clutching her close. “It’s okay, I have you, It’s okay, I’m here,” he soothes, for himself or her he doesn’t know. What he does know is that he understands Tiresias’ final words to him now, and that he will do whatever it takes to get home, including protecting his little one. For she is of the sea, and the sea shall bring him home.

—

          Calypso changes Odysseus back into a man not long after the birth, not caring that initiating the transformation while his body was still recovering left him in unbearable pain for days on end. She was bored of this game, and wanted to move on, and that was that. This left him with the problem of being unable to feed Kaia, which Calypso also did not care about. Luckily he found some wild goats while roaming the island, and made do with what he could. But he needn’t worry; his girl is a fighter, no matter her crippled state. It is her innocent face that keeps him going every day in this hell, keeps him from throwing himself off the cliffs, from forgetting what he has waiting for him somewhere across the ocean.

—

          Kaia is eighteen months old when everything falls apart. She is ill, and cries whenever Odysseus so much as sets her down, so he paces the nursery (an unused room in the palace Calypso allowed him access to) to try and get her to sleep. Said goddess strolls in casually. “Time for bed my love,” she smiles, desire in her gaze. “I can’t tonight, Kaia’s sick,” he says distractedly, continuing to pace and rock the babe. A hand on his shoulder stops him. “come on Ody, I miss you. I allow you to keep…her, because she makes you happy, but that doesn’t mean you get to neglect your husbandly duties. She’ll be fine for one night,” Calypso implores sweetly. He shakes his head, “I’m not your husband. And besides, she’s in pain. I need to be here to make sure she doesn’t get worse.”

          Strong fingers grip his chin and make him look into her purple gaze, “You seem to have forgotten dear. You belong to me. And if this weak little mortal is making you forget that, then I can have it arranged for it to be taken out of the picture.” He wrenches himself out of her grasp and hugs Kaia tight to his chest. “You will do no such thing,” he snarls. She laughs cruelly, “As if you could stop me. Now cease this foolishness darling and let’s go to bed.” Somehow, he finds the strength to stand his ground, something he hasn’t done in years. “No.” She turns sharply from where she’d been leaving the room, expecting him to follow. “No?” Her eyes flare with power. Odysseus sets his daughter in her crib. “I am not a dog whose leash you can yank on to get me to do whatever you please.”

          Quicker than he can process, the goddess strikes him across the face with enough force to knock him to the ground. Warm blood runs down his cheek from where her rings had cut him. Shock fills him; despite years of abuse, she’d never actually raised a hand to him before. “Speak to me that way again mortal,” she says menacingly. He glares up at her with hatred. She smirks when no words leave his mouth, and walks toward the crib. His eyes widen, and he lunges for her, shoving her away and placing himself between his captor and his little one. “Ugh! Why are you being difficult Ody? You used to be so good for me, and now all you care about is that pathetic excuse for a demigoddess,” she shrieks. “I never asked for this! You’re the one who raped me, you’re the one who forced me to carry her, you’re the one who refuses to accept that I don’t love you and never will!” he shouts back, fuming. Calypso’s chest heaves, her eyes feral and dangerous, her fists clenched.

          Odysseus is thrown across the room by an invisible force, slamming into a wall with enough force to leave a dent in the plaster. A hand picks him up by the throat and throws him out into the hallway, colliding with a table that breaks upon impact. He gasps for breath, pain rocketing through his body. Then she is above him and pulling his face towards hers for a kiss, but he won’t do it anymore. He scratches at her face and leaves gold gashes along her cheeks, making her cry out in pain. Magic tendrils wrap around his limbs and he crashes into another part of the palace, glass shattering somewhere around him. “Why won’t you love me back?!” he hears her scream through the ringing in his ears. His head stings as she starts dragging him by the hair through the palace, and he vaguely registers the smears of blood trailing behind him as his own. The sound of wailing reaches his ears, and something inside him aches. “Fine! if you hate me so much, you can stay in here with your precious cripple for the rest of your miserable short life!” The fury in her voice makes him want to flinch, but he’s too weak to do even that. A heavy weight settles around his wrist, then a door slams shut.

          Odysseus’ head pounds. His breathing comes short and raspy through broken ribs, his body and face bruised and bloody. He lays there on the floor, unable to focus on anything but the pain. Slowly, he comes back to himself, and once again notes the sound of wailing. He realizes it hasn’t stopped since he first heard it. He weakly lifts his head and sees Kaia standing in her crib, leaning her bad leg against it for support and sobbing, reaching tiny hands out to him. His heart breaks to see her like that, and he starts inching his way towards her. His crawling is put to a stop by something yanking him back, and it’s then that he realizes the weight on his wrist is a cuff chaining him to the wall. Just out of reach of the crib. A tiny sob escapes him, and he tugs on the chain, desperate to soothe his baby. Of course, it’s no use, and tears mix with the blood marring his cheeks. “It’s…it’s okay sweetie…Papa’s here,” he tries to comfort her from where he is, but the sound of his pained voice just makes her cry harder. There’s no clever way out of this, no trick he can devise to heal his body and escape his divine bonds; Odysseus is utterly helpless. “A-Athena…Athena please help. I know you hate me, but please, if not for me for her…please.” His final desperate plea saps the last of his energy, and he collapses on the floor.

—

          Odysseus wakes an unknown amount of time later, body sore and aching and caked with dried blood. He still can’t take in deep lungfuls of air, and his head throbs with the effects of his brain being thrashed around his skull. It takes him a moment to realize how quiet the room is—and why that fact is a cause for alarm. He pushes himself up to sitting, and his eyes widen at what he sees. Kaia has climbed over the side of the crib and is dangling precariously by the bars of it. His heart is gripped with fear to the point that he can’t even cry out in warning, just watches in horror. But then she surprises him; her tiny hands slide slowly down the bars until she’s a safe distance from the floor. She plops down on her rump, unharmed. The girl pushes herself to stand (a skill she learned a mere few months ago) and slowly limps toward him, a triumphant smile on her face. Odysseus could cry with relief. he holds his arms out to her as far as the chain allows, and she toddles into them, pressing herself to his sore chest. It hurts, but he holds her as tight as his ribs allow, laughing though his eyes water. “My clever girl,” his split lip stings as he smiles, hugging her close. “I save you Papa,” she says with a determined look on her face. If only she knew how right she was. “Yes you did,” he kisses her soft dark curls. Looking pleased with herself, she settles on his lap and yawns, eyes drooping. So much commotion for one night must’ve tired her out, because soon enough she’s snuggled against him and lightly snoring, her nose still stuffy from her illness.

          Odysseus reclines against a wall and strokes up and down her back, a soft look on his face as he watches the babe in his lap sleep peacefully. He used to love watching Telemachus sleep too, until Penelope dragged him to bed with the promise that he would see his son again soon when he woke them up with his cries. Gods he missed them. The heartache of being away from them was a worse pain than anything Calypso could inflict upon him. He hopes they have not suffered as much as he has, because he would never forgive himself for not shielding them from the pain. The dark thought that everyone he’s ever loved has suffered because of him permeates his mind, but he can’t ruminate on it too much with Kaia sleeping peacefully in his embrace. All of his hope lies in her tiny form. Odysseus waits and prays that his goddess takes pity on them.

—

          The messenger of the gods lands lightly on the sands of Ogygia. He’s still queasy from when he walked into Apollo’s chambers and found Athena mangled beyond belief, Aphrodite weeping in Ares’ arms, Hera hovering worriedly beside a frazzled Apollo, and Hephaestus standing watch at the door. He couldn’t help Athena then, but he can help her now. Zeus may have been the one to order him to do this, but he was doing it for her. Besides, it was an easy task to accept, as he has taken a liking to this mortal, and wishes to see him free as much as Athena.

          As expected, Calypso notices the second he sets foot in her domain, and intercepts him on his way to the palace. “Lord Hermes, to what do i owe the honor of your presence?” she curtsies low, but he’s not in the mood for her games. “Where is he Calypso?” She looks up innocently, “Where is who?” He rolls his eyes, though she can’t see it. “I’m the god of liars darling, this isn’t going to work on me.” Calypso finally drops the innocent act, a spiteful expression on her face. “What do you want with him?” A smirk crosses his face, “I have orders from Lord Zeus commanding that he be freed from your island and sent back to his homeland.” Her gaze darkens, “You can’t take him. He’s mine.” He chuckles, “Oh please. He was never yours to have. That naiad’s daughter owns his heart. Now take me to him and we’ll be on our way.” Her fists clench with rage, but she complies and leads him into the palace.

          They stop at an unassuming looking door, and she unlocks it with a simple spell. “Hungry,” a small whine reaches his ears as the door creaks open. “I know baby I know, I’m sorry,” a raspy yet gentle voice replies. Calypso enters first, and Hermes watches as the great Odysseus, the mastermind of the Greeks’ victory at Troy, flinches at the sight of her, cowers into a corner, and clutches a small child with all his measly strength. There’s an unsettling anger directed at Calypso in said child’s wet eyes, but her father doesn’t seem to notice. He’s been beaten bloody, and the chain around his wrist contains a multitude of unspoken words. “We have a visitor Ody,” Calypso tries to smile, but Odysseus just curls farther into the corner, eyes distant as he rocks the teary child. Hermes takes that as his cue to step through the doorway. “Hello old friend,” he smiles. That gets the mortal to look up, eyes wide in disbelief. “Hermes?” He laughs, “The one and only.” Then he turns to Calypso with a dangerous glare and hisses, “Leave us.” It achieves the desired effect, as the woman is properly cowed and leaves the room, her footsteps echoing in the empty hallway.

          Hermes turns back to his great grandson, his glare turning into something softer. “It’s alright my friend,” he says as he cautiously gets closer, until he can kneel down and take the chain in his hands. With nary a thought it crumbles into dust, and the man looks at his wrist in shock. “I’m here to take you home Odysseus, you will never have to see this place again,” he speaks as though he were coaxing a frightened animal out of its hiding place. His eyes widen, filling with tears, before looking down at the child in his arms. “What about her?” His voice comes out as a whisper. Hermes tickles under her chin, “I think there’s plenty of room for a little passenger, don’t you?” The girl giggles, squirming in her father’s lap. He looks back up at Odysseus and sees that the tears have fallen down his bruised cheeks, face twisted with an emotion that can’t be named. Hermes can think of nothing better to do than open his arms and let his descendant fall into them. Odysseus sobs into his shoulder, muttering incoherent words of thanks, and Hermes shushes him and reassures him that no thanks is needed. They are family, after all.

          Once the man is calm enough, the messenger lets his magic sweep over him to semi-heal his wounds (he’s not Apollo), for he would need to be in prime shape for this final leg of the journey. Hermes tells him to prepare to set sail while he speaks with Calypso. Odysseus smartly does not question him and goes off with the child. With him gone, the god lets the rarely released spark of fury inside his heart envelop him, and flies fast as the wind to where Calypso is waiting. “What the fuck is wrong with you?!” he snarls as he towers over her. She shrugs, “I did as all you gods do with your favorite mortals.” He glowers, “But taking away his manhood? Getting him with child? Beating him in front of said child? Those are not the actions of someone in love.”

          Hermes knew as soon as he saw Odysseus. Even if he hadn’t been acting like a mother bear desperate to protect her offspring, it was still clear to Hermes who was the sire and who was forced to carry and bear a divine heir. It disgusted him that she would go to such lengths to lay claim over his body, and disgusted him even more that she had a point. “If Ody had just returned my love and given me a strong son for us to raise, then I wouldn’t have had to do those things,” she sighed as if they were discussing a misbehaving child. He glares, letting his eyes and the power within them be seen, “And this is why he’ll never love you. Take responsibility.” His fists tighten, “And mind your tongue. That’s my great great granddaughter you’re talking about.” With that, Hermes walks away to let her stew in her anger. He has better things to do than watch her temper tantrums.

—

          After seven long years, the time had come for Odysseus to leave Ogygia. He stood on the beach, Kaia in his arms, matching Calypso’s tear filled gaze with a cold indifferent one of his own. Hermes fluttered nearby, giving him the strength to stand tall before his captor. “Ody,” she begins, and tries to reach out to gently caress his daughter’s cheek, but he backs away, holding Kaia closer to his body. She lowers her hand and sighs. “I want you to know that I enjoyed our time together and will miss you dearly. I’ve been alone for so long, it was a joy to have company. We had our ups and downs, but I don’t regret a second. I know I came on too strong at times, but I’m not sorry for loving you, I’m not. You’ll always be mine, in my heart. It’s just- You’re a good man Ody— For once, I wish you would lie and say…you love me?” It appeared to Odysseus that she thought that was a tender heartfelt speech, but his heart would never be touched by her, unlike the rest of his body that will bear the scars of her forever. Say he loves her as a consolation prize for her favorite toy being taken away because she broke it? What a joke.

          He grits his teeth, and responds with no emotion in his voice, “I am not your pet, I never liked you, I don’t care about you, I won’t miss you…I bite.” The goddess reels back as if he slapped her, and a sick sense of satisfaction fills him. He turns away from her and walks toward the raft that will take him home. “I hate that I fell in love with you!” he hears Calypso cry out, but he keeps walking. He glances to the side and sees Kaia looking at the goddess over his shoulder, and he’s surprised to see anger burning in her eyes, tiny fists clenched in his chiton. “Hey, what’s wrong sweetling?” he whispers, gently turning her head towards him. Kaia’s dark eyes seem to stare into his soul, and she reaches out and lightly touches his cheek where Calypso had slashed him.

          The touch says more than words ever could, and he can do nothing but press a kiss to her little forehead and mutter an “I love you” as she sweetly nuzzles her head into his chest. He finds it is easy to say, despite the suffering she unintentionally wrought on him. Because she is Kaia, daughter of Odysseus and Nobody, and the rage in her gaze only confirms this fact to him. Judging by the sob that came from behind him, the goddess heard what he said, but he can’t find it in him to care. “Full speed ahead!” Hermes giggles from somewhere above him, and he nods his agreement. Odysseus is going home whether the Gods and Fates like it or not.

—

          Penelope and Odysseus sat tangled in one another on the floor of their chambers for a long time after reaffirming their everlasting love for each other. He pressed his face into the crook of her neck, arms wrapped tight round her shoulders and waist. She rests her cheek against his head, calloused fingers stroking through his matted grey-streaked hair and holding him close. I love you I love you I love you is the prevailing thought that runs through his mind. Shame and guilt come bubbling up from his gut to sully the warm feelings, and he knows he has to tell her.

          Reluctantly, he picks his head up from her shoulder to stare at her beautiful face. He has never been worthy of her, now more than ever. “Pen…there is something that I must confess,” His voice holds none of the conviction it may have ten years ago. “You can tell me anything my love,” she gently brushes a strand of hair out of his face, and he finds himself leaning into her touch. He sucks in a breath, prepared to begin his tale, but words fail him. What does he even say? I defiled our marriage by sleeping with another? I was defiled? I am not the man you once knew because for a time I was not a man at all? Perhaps if he shows her, she’ll understand. He slowly lifts his chiton just enough that his stomach is bared. There’s a jagged scar from where Perimedes impaled him, but what he wants her to see are the pale lines that cover the soft flesh. No matter how much weight he lost from lethargy and stress following the birth, the lines remained as a constant reminder of what he’d been through. A special kind of battle scar.

          Penelope looks at him with worried confusion. “Stretch marks are normal Odysseus, everyone gets them. Remember I had them after having Telemachus?” He can’t look her in the eye as he stiffens at her words. His wife stills as she notices the tension in his shoulders, “Husband…What happened to you?” He grits his teeth against the flood of tears wanting to fall. “I’m sorry, I let another touch me. I’m so sorry my love, my life, my everything.” The tears and words spill out of him, until Penelope takes his hand and says with gentle firmness, “Tell me what happened.” He forces himself to recompose after a few shaky inhales, swiping a hand across his eyes. “For the past seven years, I was trapped on the isle of Ogygia by the goddess Calypso. She was convinced that i was a gift sent to her by the Gods, and wouldn’t let me leave. I always refused her advances, I swear Pen, but she eventually became frustrated with trying to win me over and decided to just…take me by force instead.” He bites his lip, worrying over the next words. “She raped me every night for years on end, and I could do nothing to fight it. And then…she got bored of that,” his voice comes out as a whisper. Penelope’s hand squeezes his, and it is her silent support that keeps him going.

          “Calypso decided one night to have us switch places, and used her magic to give us the opposite genitals. She had me that way for many nights, and then I became ill. I soon found out that I was…I was carrying her child.” He runs an anxious hand through his hair, disgust roiling inside him as it always does when he thinks on that period of his life. “I bore her a sickly girl, and after all the pain and torment I went through to give her a child, she rejected her because she was expecting a strong son. So, I raised my daughter alone and I…I’m sorry Penelope, I love her. I never wanted to have a child with anyone but you, but she is my blood, my baby, I cannot forsake her. She’s with Eumaeus right now, leaving her with Calypso was not an option.” He sniffles, “I understand if you don’t wish to see me again. I know I betrayed you and am a pathetic excuse for a man, but I had to tell you. I’m so sorry you waited so long just for a sullied husband with a bastard in tow.”

          Odysseus hadn’t dared look up during his tale, but he does when he hears a choked sob. Penelope has tears flowing down her cheeks, and there is such pain in her blue eyes that all he wants to do is take it away from her. She leans in and presses a gentle kiss to his forehead, before enveloping him in a tight hug. “Oh my dearest love, I am so sorry that happened to you. Please cease this speak of me not wanting to see you again. I love you and nothing, absolutely nothing, will change that, especially not news of you being the good father I know you are when you had the right not to be. You have not betrayed me, what happened was not of your own free will. Now please collect the girl and bring her here, and, if you so wish it, I would be honored to be her mother.” She sounds so sure of herself that he can’t help but believe her words, and he breaks down in shuddering sobs, holding on to her desperately. She cries with him, but runs a hand up and down his back, an anchor in the storm. “Thank you,” he whispers against her skin. “Thank you for returning to me.”

—

          Odysseus is shaking with nerves as he walks through his palace back to his wife. He holds Kaia’s head tight against his chest to prevent her from witnessing the aftermath of the bloodshed that occurred here. Gods know she’s already seen enough to scar her for life. He stops outside the door to his and Penelope’s chambers, allowing Kaia to look up. She looks at him curiously, her mouth turning down in a tiny frown as she tries to wipe away the remnants of blood on his face. “I’m fine sweetie,” he smiles sadly, taking her palm in his hand and kissing it. It’s not my blood, goes unsaid. She giggles as the hairs of his beard tickle her hand. “Kaia, listen closely. you’re about to meet my wife Penelope, who I love very much. She is excited to meet you, and wants to be your new Mama. So please be on your best behavior, alright?”

          The girl stills, her lip quivering. “No go Mama,” she whispers, shaking her head and clinging onto his himation. His eyes widen at her despair, unaware that she would interpret his words that way. It was only on rare occasions she called him Mama, when she was in true distress. Not because she knew how she came into this world, she was too young for that, but because she seemed to understand that he had to be both parents for her. He hugs her close, pressing his forehead to hers, “Baby no, I’m not leaving you with Penelope. We’re both going to take care of you, and you’ll have your big brother Telemachus too. It won’t be just you and me anymore, but you’ll always have me. Always.” Kaia sniffles and nuzzles his shoulder, and Odysseus takes a moment to just hold her, both of them drawing comfort from the other.

          “Ready?” he whispers, giving her a light squeeze. She picks her head up and offers a small nod. With that, he pushes open the door and walks up to his beloved. “Pen, this is Kaia. Kaia, this is Penelope.” A wistful smile finds its way onto his wife’s face. “She has your eyes, a true beauty. Hello sweet girl, it is a pleasure to meet you.” Kaia smiles shyly before hiding her face in Odysseus’ shoulder, startling a chuckle out of him. “Come now child, nothing to be afraid of.” He jostles her gently in an attempt to get her to come out of hiding. Once the words leave his mouth, he realizes how novel they are. Finally, finally, the pair has nothing to be afraid of. What a concept.

          “Would you like to see my loom?” Penelope offers kindly, hoping to coax his daughter out of her shell. Kaia peeks up at Penelope and nods. His wife holds her arms out for her and for the first time, he places his girl in the arms of another and does so without fear. Odysseus watches as Penelope carries Kaia on her hip, showing her the various parts of the loom and letting her touch the soft threads. Smiles grace both of their faces, and for the first time in a long time, Odysseus feels like perhaps, it will all be okay.