Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The goddess stood on the edge of the hourglass, staring out into the vast emptiness of the cosmos she called her realm. Amongst the calm and quiet, she felt more at ease than anywhere else on Olympus. There was also the advantage of implementing it in battle. This skill had given her the advantage over foes and sparring partners alike - even now, she remembered how Olympus seemed to spill over with laughter when she first used it against Ares. Hermes had taken to calling it her “Quick Thought” that day and, unfortunately for her, it stuck. If given the chance, she would have chosen a better name. A lengthier one, yes, but far more fitting and practical for what this trick of hers was.

…But, then again, “Quick Thought” did have a funny little ring to it.

Sucking in a deep breath, she closed her eyes as she focused her thoughts onto one of the many mortals she’d taught and mentored throughout her centuries of life. The hourglass beneath her feet cracked as the sand flowed out in a relentless stream. As the grains began to gradually take shape, she could hear the deep, pain-fueled cries of Polyphemus and the sounds of a fleet sailing on the waves as one voice, proud and clear, rang out above all the noise.

“It was never Nobody who hurt you, Cyclops! Remember my name well - I AM ODYSSEUS, KING OF ITHACA!”

At the declaration, she could hear his fellow men, his soldiers, cheering at their captain’s victory over the ‘beast’. Athena’s eyes flew open, grey slates watching the grains display the king, her greatest pupil, yell out his own name while his eyes blazed with what she now knew as a well-placed fury. His sword drawn, pointing it in the direction of the now-shrinking isle as the shawl he wore billowed in the wind that carried the fleet away.

Even though it was only a vision, the goddess’s mouth quirked upwards into a gentle smile. Pupil wasn’t the right word for him anymore, these days. Telemachus’s words still rung clearly in her head. She was a friend to him, not a mentor. Odysseus had mentioned it only once in her argument, but his son… almost every day, he seemed to remind her that she had been more than a goddess and mentor to Odysseus.

“Hello again, old friend. It’s been some time, hasn’t it?”

The image fell away, the grains swirling beneath her feet as they coalesced into a swirling vortex not far below from where she stood. It had been ten years since they’d parted so unceremoniously. But she’d taught him for years, guided his hands and mind. He had to have understood the consequences of what he’d done by allowing Polyphemus to know his name. Didn’t he?

Another thought banished from her mind. Of course he wouldn’t - he bore only a fraction of the knowledge she had. But the way his words had left her so shaken… it was unbecoming of a goddess to admit a weakness, and yet he had been so right that day. Despite the countless heroes and warriors she’d taught, would any one of them call her a friend like he had? Would any one of them be foolhardy enough to call out her greatest fault to her very face?

Only Odysseus ever had. And, despite the joy in Telemachus’s smile, she could sense the heartbreak he bore. He had no tangible memory of his own father, only the words and whispering of his mother and court of Ithaca. And Odysseus would not linger away from home willingly. Was it some other god’s wrath he inadvertently managed to invoke, or had he managed to-

No. He wasn’t dead. She was certain he was still alive, even now. The frown on her face grew the tiniest bit as she invoked her power further. With a well-practiced flourish, she leapt off the edge, watching as the grains of sand began to glow in shades of bright blue and grey while she hurtled towards them.

“Let’s see how well you’ve done without me…” 

“-just don’t open this bag, and you’ll be fine!”

“Impossible. You can’t simply make it that easy for me to return home.”

“But I never said it was easy, silly!”

A chatter of giggles sounded around Athena as she watched Odysseus stare down the god of the winds. Aeolus’s hair curled and billowed around them as they gleefully held the bag just out of reach of her warrior. No, friend - she had to remember that. The small grey creatures surrounding the two cooed in awe as they watched Aeolus speak to the mortal. Athena couldn’t recall the name Aeolus had granted them, but they were… slightly adorable.

“Your men might wanna know what’s in this bag, and you’ll have to stop them from opening it until you get home!”

“Kill ‘em if you gotta!”

The grey fuzzballs chirped that line in unison. Odysseus glanced down to the horde surrounding them, the disbelief in his eyes obvious.

“...sorry, what?”

“Whatever it takes to get home, right?”

Aeolus hovered uncomfortably close to Odysseus now. The light blue of their eyes shone with an intense light as they continued to smile at her friend. Odysseus stared down the god for a minute or two before sighing in defeat.

“...right. Whatever it takes.”

With that, the winds around them began to howl as they lifted Odysseus off the ground, carrying him back down to the fleet below. The goddess’s cape snapped at the force as the winds only continued to escalate in their speed. Athena’s eyes began to water as their speed only continued to increase, and she blinked as they furiously whipped around her–

–and just as quickly as she had closed her eyes, she opened them, the ground of the floating isle beneath her feet giving way to wood. The sound of rushing water around her forced her head to look up, staring as she watched Poseidon glare down at the fleet from a rocky outcropping. Disgust and bile rose up in her throat at the very sight of him. For years, her uncle had dogged her steps, seeming intent on disrupting every gift and blessing she’d bestowed on others. But she knew that, despite it all, he was one of the few gods that truly seemed to care for his children.

“...apologize.”

“What?”

“Apologize for what you did to my son. For maiming him, blinding him and letting him suffer as he does now.”

Her uncle stared down the fleet, fingers tightening their grip on his trident as he looked down at her friend. The Laestrygonians at his side hauled up immense boulders and slabs of stone onto their shoulders, waiting in sadistic anticipation for the king’s response. Odysseus effortlessly leapt onto the railing of the ship, balancing himself on the prow of the trireme as he looked up at the god of the oceans.

“Please, mighty god of tides! We never meant to harm your son! He killed some of my men, and I only wanted to save the rest! It wasn’t out of pleasure that we chose to harm him. Our only goal was to return home, nothing more.”

The god only stared down at her and her friend, gaze unflinching as the waves continued to roar wildly around the fleet. Odysseus looked on, a trace of a smile on his mouth as he waited for the god’s response. But Athena knew her uncle all too well, and she only watched on in silent resignation as a twitch of a cruel and cold grin made its way onto his face.

“...did you really think I’d make it so easy for you to leave?”

“You said that–!”

“I demanded you apologize. I never said you’d be free if you did. My niece may choose to be lenient on you mortals, but I’m not as easily swayed as she.”

Before Odysseus could protest, Poseidon lowered his trident from where he rested it on his shoulders, aiming the points at her friend…before he directed his aim to where the other ships helplessly bobbed among the waves.

“Let this serve as a reminder of your… ‘mercy’, King…”

“...wait. No, stop-! You can’t-! They didn’t do anyth–!”

Too late. She could hear the cries of over five hundred men - some begging for mercy from Poseidon, some begging for aid from their captain. But she knew it would be useless. The boulders passed over the ship as waves surged up, up, higher than the main mast of the ships before they crashed down onto the other eleven ships. The waves from the impact surged up over the railings of the trireme, sweeping towards Odysseus he rushed towards the railing, watching in horror as each ship was crushed, his men swept away. Athena watched as a fierce wave surged over the railing and towards her. She lifted an arm up to protect herself as–

–the wave gave way to a palace, smooth marble seeming to leach away the water that still surrounded her in an instant. 

“I haven’t done anything to those men that they didn’t already deserve.”

Despite the cool breeze that flowed through the courtyard of Aeaea, the atmosphere was oppressive and overbearing. Glazing to one end of the courtyard, she could see the sorceress carefully beginning to weave out a garment for herself. At least, she had been. Immediately, she rose to her feet, looking at Odysseus from over her shoulder with a look of disdain.

“You turned my men… into pigs.”

“Most men are, dear - I only did them a service to let their forms best fit their status.”

The sorceress turned to face Odysseus and the goddess down from the top of the stairs. Producing a small wooden stave of willow, Circe’s eyes glowed with a golden light as her hair and dress began to float around her, almost as if she were suspended in the very element Athena had just left.

“Whomever you may be, whatever kingdom you may hail from, I will not allow you to have any peace in my home. The nymphs here are under my protection, and I’ll not have them suffer pain from your ilk again.”

A quick twist of the hand bearing the stave, and a chimera suddenly shimmered into existence. Out of instinct, the goddess allowed her spear and shield to manifest in her hands, holding both with a deadly grip as she watched the chimera stalk towards them both, three sets of eyes focusing on Odysseus. As the beast roared, Athena briefly held her shield before her as the chimera launched towards her–

“There is only one path I see before you, King. A sacrifice, a betrayal, a final stand. You shall fall, but a man shall rise and return to home and throne.”

The goddess immediately willed away the spear and shield in her hands at the familiar voice. An unfortunately familiar one this time around. Even the memory of the Underworld seemed to chill her to the bone. Turning to look at the source of the voice, she was not at all surprised to see the eidolon of the prophet standing before her. This time, he’d taken on the form of a young man. And a form so similar to that day she’d first met him.

Athena felt embarrassment rise in her for a moment. And even more embarrassment still considering how - and more specifically, why - she’d blinded him in her panic. At the time, the gift of prophecy was the only way she thought to restore his sight. And yet it was another fault of hers she wouldn’t be able to remedy.

She only looked on as Odysseus’s eyes widened, then narrowed into a glare. He grasped for a sword that would be useless against the eidolon standing before him.

“No… I won’t believe it. I can’t. I’ve lost so much, suffered so much death, and you’re telling me that’s how we–!”

–the sound of screams pierced through her mind as she felt herself step into another memory. Wood back beneath her sandals again. And blood. Too much blood. Glancing around her, she could only watch as what remained of Odysseus’s crew began to hack away at the tails of sirens. She could hear some of them beg - some of them calling for another by name - but the crew continued to work. 

But it did not mean they did the task eagerly. While some of the crew obeyed their captain with looks of disdain towards the creatures, others looked nauseous. One of them, in particular, hesitated, only pausing in his work as he threw one bisected half of a siren overboard. The immense sword on his back seemed to weigh them down more than usual. Athena only followed his gaze as he looked towards Odysseus. He seemed…distant. Detached. How had Tiresias’s prophecy affected him so?

One of the soldiers approached a siren near her. She was struggling to claw her way off the deck. As the soldier raised his sword, Athena mentally braced herself for the slaughter that would come next. The siren could only be heard begging as the soldier brought his sword down and–

–howled in pain as he was lifted up into the air by a massive canine head, a torch falling from his hand. The goddess briefly felt fear strike her heart as another head clamped down onto the man’s legs before pulling. In an instant, the goddess turned away as the screams were replaced in an instant by the sound of tearing flesh. Despite being known as a master of war, the sights of suffering swayed her resolve at times. 

Forty men left, then thirty-nine, then thirty-eight. Four heads fed, and only two left. Her gaze craned upward to look at the monster… no, nymph. The pale, bedraggled face of Scylla stared down with empty hollow eyes, and her friend met the nymph’s gaze. Despite the screams and pleas of the soldiers, he remained unmoving. Unwavering. Only a slight shake of his hands gave away his true feelings as another soldier cried out, begging for mercy as his arm was bitten into and his body was forcefully pulled off the ship.

The soldier with the large sword, however, frantically rushed by her. Close enough for her to read the inscription on its hilt - “The Strongest of Same.” Eurylochus, she now recalled - Odysseus had spoken about him and another at length during the times she’d trained him. 

He was calling out another soldier by name - lost among all the frantic babble of prayers and curses from those at the oars. The soldier turned, torch by his side blazing brightly at his face, reflecting the fear and panic within his eyes.

Until it, too, clattered unceremoniously to the floor as a canid head swept him away, his blood spattering the deck. Eurylochus stopped in his tracks, his eyes looking back to his captain. Still unmoving, still unheeding. Eurylochus only stood in panic, glancing down to the torch that lay there on the ground, then let his gaze track from that torch to the five others that lay there among the viscera. His eyes widened as he finally began to realize the unfortunate truth. Athena could only watch as Eurylochus’s face changed from one of shock, to disbelief… to hate.

The sixth soldier was gone. The final head fed. And in that moment, Eurylochus saw his greatest friend, his brother-in-law as someone lesser.

Lightning. The blinding light of her father’s craft caused her eyes to water as the loud rumbling of thunderclouds consumed her mind. The look in his eyes bore both duty and amusement at the same time. His hair billowed outward like the very clouds he sat on, watching her friend with a playful smirk on his face. 

Her stomach turned with revulsion as she recalled that day. Helios had raced back to Olympus, the fury practically rolling off of him with every step. He had demanded a sacrifice, a life that needed to be given for the cattle that had been mercilessly killed. Her father had attempted to keep the peace as best he could - but only when Helios threatened to drive his chariot to the very depths of the Underworld did Zeus finally agree to his terms. The roll of thunder that shook the air around her caught Athena off guard as she watched her father lean over from the perch he had crafted for himself.

“Choose.”

Her gaze turned to Odysseus. A wave of worry and sympathy rushed over her as she saw him clutching tightly at his side, the blood staining his tunic. If she bothered to look hard enough in the crowd not far behind him, she could find that fool, Perimedes, still with her friend’s blood staining the blade. At least one of his men had made sure to wrap a makeshift bandage around his side, however simple it was. Confusion began to sweep in and overwhelm the painful expression Odysseus previously bore.

“...choose?!”

“Someone needs to pay for the cow that was slaughtered.”

“But I never wanted them to-!”

A flash of piercing light, and her father stood on the deck of the ship. He still managed to tower over her friend by a foot or two. The brilliant blue eyes brightened, glinting in amusement as her father leaned in, only inches away from Odysseus’s face.

“It doesn’t matter what you want. It never did. What matters is what the gods want. And Helios demands a sacrifice for the life you stole from his herd. Or would you rather the world be plunged into eternal night?”

Odysseus couldn’t say a word. The thunder rumbled around him yet again - a warning, this time.

“So, who do you say it should be?”

Anger bristled in her as she watched her father take Odysseus’s chin in his hand, that same awful smirk on his face. The one he’d used to… ‘woo’ countless women and men to his bed. Nausea rose in her throat as she looked on - had she known this was what had transpired, she would have intervened. Pushed him away from Odysseus, held her Aegis to keep him at a distance.

If only she’d known back then. If only she’d brought herself to know.

“You… or your crew?”

Just as quickly as he’d held her friend's face, her father had let go. Odysseus’s eyes widened, his breath coming out in sharp, painful gasps as he heard the fate cast upon him. She could sense how desperately his mind was reeling.

“No… you– you can’t! You can’t have me make a choice like that again!”

Without a word, he looked in desperation behind him. Thirty-six pairs of eyes returned the look with a myriad of expressions. Ones of panic, ones of fury - only one pair seemed to plead in desperation. Eurylochus and Odysseus held each other’s gaze, the both of them looking at the other in worry. 

“Odysseus?”

That voice. She knew it. Both her and Odysseus turned to face the source… and the goddess’s heart plummeted into her stomach. She knew that face, the way her smile seemed to shine through even the darkest of moments. The way her friend had incessantly talked her ears off about her. And the gleam in her eyes when she had introduced Athena to Telemachus for the very first time.

Penelope stood before her husband. Only the bright color of her eyes gave away who it truly was. How dare he… how dare he use her against him?! With a soft and pleading smile, ‘Penelope’ stepped forward, holding ‘her’ hands out towards the king.

“Please, my love… I miss you. You’ve been gone for so long. Come back home. Come back to me.”

Odysseus remained frozen as ‘Penelope’s’ hand touched his cheek. A sharp inhale only gave away his true feelings as tears began to run down his cheeks, mixing with the rain that poured down from above. The silence on the ship was palpable, broken only by a single step as Eurylochus moved towards his brother-in-law.

“...Captain?”

Odysseus didn’t move, still staring deep into the eyes of his smiling ‘wife’.

“I have to see her…”

The crew rippled in unison, some reaching for the hilts of their swords as they listened to Odysseus. Eurylochus flinched, then took another step forward, hoping to close the distance between him and Odysseus.

“But… we’ll die.”

Odysseus turned, offering Eurylochus a broken half-smile. In that brief moment, he looked the furthest from a king than ever. The tears didn’t stop flowing as her friend pointed a shaky finger at his greatest ally.

“I know.”

‘Penelope’s’ smile widened, turning from ‘love’ to sadistic satisfaction. A golden flash took ‘her’ place before it rocketed upwards into the black clouds circling overhead. Like a horde, the crew surged forward, shouting angrily as they raised their swords to strike Odysseus down. Eurylochus–

The goddess’s eyes widened as the second-in-command drew his sword, desperately blocking the attacks from their crew members, the rage of the other thirty-five. Even after all of that… he chose to help him? An uneasy ache settled in Athena’s chest as the thunder roared overhead - she knew, with growing sorrow, what would come next for them.

“Damn you, captain!”

“What about my wife? My daughters?!”

“Eurylochus, you fool! You brought his judgement down on us all!”

“The gods won’t forgive either of you for this!”

The curses and damnations only grew in volume. Eurylochus turned back to look at Odysseus, the panic and desperation all too obvious. Her friend’s eyes were dull, the tears still relentless as he stared at his brother.

And then the world grew bright. Brighter. And brighter still until Athena was forced to close her eyes while the lightning came crashing down around her. It even pierced through her eyelids.

She was grateful it was only a memory.

As the light fell away, Athena couldn’t help but blink multiple times as she looked at the devastation. She was left hovering in the air, her cape acting as a stand-in for the wings she bore as an owl. The ship was gone, fragments of it haphazardly strewn about the surface of the ocean. The bodies of the crew bobbed on the waves, eyes staring lifelessly back at her, some of them already beginning to sink into the depths of her uncle’s ocean. Her heart already felt on the verge of tearing itself out of her chest. The cruelty of her father was immeasurable at times, and she loathed witnessing it even now.

Thirty-six crew members were dead, and thirty-six accounted for as she scanned her surroundings for any sign of her friend. But there was no sight of him. Her heart began to pick up in its beating, the slow but dreadful chill of worry finally beginning to settle in.

“Odysseus… where did you go?!”

Chapter Text

The fog of mortal memory was almost unbearable. Or was it mist? She couldn’t tell as she tried to find him, searching for the one memory that would tell her where Odysseus had ended up. Where had he gone? Where had her father sent him?! Part of her had half a mind to march towards the main throne room and demand for him to let her know. But she knew better than to invoke her father’s anger.

With each moment she stood there, more time was wasted, and worse still, the more Odysseus’s fate was left an enigma. She could see glimpses of his memories as she searched relentlessly for the right one.

Odysseus cutting the soldiers of Troy down as the city burned. Him kneeling by a wailing infant, an overturned plow cast aside as his tears watered the soil. The healer of the palace tending to a newly-acquired scar on her friend’s thigh, Anticlea worriedly pacing by the wall as a bright-eyed boy relayed the story to a grinning Laertes. 

No, no, and still no! Where had he gone?! Had she missed something in that last memory on the ship? Had her uncle finally managed to enact his revenge upon him? She would not dare to stand for it if he did.

Every memory blurred before her before something new caught her eye. An unexpected spot of green amongst all the other memories. It was too deep of a color, too lush to match the vegetation on Ithaca. Carefully, she turned to face the small fragment, stepping closer to inspect it.

It was an island, not unlike Circe’s and yet… something about it chilled Athena to her core. There was some element about this isle lurking beneath the surface, something that made it so much more different than Aeaea. Pulling the memory towards her with a simple gesture of her hand, she took a steadying breath before allowing herself to be submerged within the memory.

The sound of the waves crashing at her feet first registered in her senses. Several feet away, she could see her friend laying there on the beach. The marks on the sand beneath easily suggested he’d been moved away from the shoreline. But now, his head was propped up above the lap of some… woman. The lush greenery behind her stood out compared to the bright tunic she wore around her body. 

The soft mumble of Odysseus’s voice could be heard alongside the waves as they crashed onto the shore, but from the distance she was at, Athena couldn’t make a word out. She watched Odysseus briefly wince as he came to consciousness, and the woman’s eyes widened in glee.

“Hello there, sleepyhead! You were out for quite some time, you know. I was starting to get worried! I could’ve sworn you were dead before you started talking.”

A groan was all the reply she received. Odysseus sat himself up, wincing at the wound in his side as he felt the muscles pull there. For a moment, he blinked as his eyes adjusted to the light, then scanned the horizon before realizing the woman was staring at him with a look that was somehow eager and desperate all at once.

“But I’ve never heard someone talk in their sleep before! Who’s Penelope?”

“...it’s my wife’s name.”

The woman blinked, her face a neutral slate for an… uncomfortable amount of time. Athena could only stare at her in confusion before her face broke out into that same gleeful smile. Odysseus, on the other hand, immediately rose to his feet and began to walk away. Occasionally, he would stagger, no doubt a side effect of her father’s judgement upon him - if she could, she’d immediately right him back to the path he trod. Guide him to the trees best suited to make a raft to sail back home on. 

At times, he hissed in pain and clutched at his side. So the sword wound was still very fresh - not long after the judgement, then. The woman continued to follow not far behind him, skipping along the same path as she seemed to act as a second shadow for him. Athena walked alongside the memory of her friend, watching the distance between Odysseus and the strange woman begin to close.

“No need to worry! My island is a place where you can have all you want here - including myself among them. You seem like the perfect man, too - strong and brave. I’m certain we could both find a way to pass the years here!”

“As lovely as you think that is, you’re mistaken. I don’t belong to any woman, least of all you. I have my WIFE-” A stronger emphasis on the word that time. “That I have to return to.”

Another brilliant smile from the woman, quickly stepping in front of Odysseus as she blocked his path for a moment. Odysseus merely groaned in frustration, carefully pushing the woman aside - barely hiding a wince as he felt his wound slightly pull from the effort - and continued to walk. 

“But this is a paradise! And you must’ve come onto my island for a reason, my dearest! I’m certain that I can make this place perfect for you. You won’t have any reason to fear or worry while you’re with me. And from now on, you and I shall belong to one another!”

The woman effortlessly closed a distance, placing her hands onto his shoulders with an unnerving ease. Odysseus flinched at the touch, immediately pulling away from the woman and drawing his sword, aiming at the woman’s neck. The woman’s eyes widened in shock as she felt the point whizz towards her flesh, stopping perfectly at the center of her throat.

“Stay away! I don’t know who you think you are, but I’m no pet of yours! As I said, I have a wife who wants me back home!”

The woman’s brow furrowed for the tiniest moment before she burst into laughter. Was this some nymph left unaccounted for? Athena only watched as the woman stepped closer, allowing the point of the sword to press into her skin… drawing forth a golden fluid from beneath.

Ichor. The sight of it alone sent the goddess’s mind on alert. The chill that went up Athena’s back was unlike no other, as if some base fear had reared its head within her heart.

“Silly you! No matter how you might threaten me, you can’t exactly kill a goddess, now can you?”

Odysseus’s eyes widened, stepping back as if the revelation had somehow manifested a physical form.

“...goddess?!”

“Of course. Calypso, daughter of Atlas, here to entertain and adore you! Besides, it’s only you and I here together on this island. And, by my will, no one can leave Ogygia's shores.”

Athena only looked on as her heart twisted itself in pain. This was Calypso? She had heard of her from Zeus - the daughter of one of the many “insipid little upstarts” who had revolted against the gods in the Titanomachy. While Atlas was doomed to hold the sky for eternity, Athena was unsure if it was a mercy that his daughter had been spared from a similar fate. Even so, she was the daughter of an enemy, and a powerful one at that. But a small strangled noise from her friend shook her out of her thoughts.

Odysseus’s face took on a mask of fear. Athena had seen that expression only several times as she dove through his memories. First with Polyphemus, then her uncle, and then even her father… But unlike the others, this was a fear more primal, far more personal than with every other foe he’d faced. As the minor goddess continued to speak, Athena only watched as Odysseus began to shake, eyes widening as the sword from his hand was wrenched from his grasp with a wave of her hand. Despite the smile Calypso gave him, one thought seemed to sound through his mind.

This goddess was not his Penelope.

But the stranded goddess didn’t care. Calypso stepped forwards as Odysseus fell back, running desperately to the shore. Only when running to the boat on the shores of Thrinacia did he ever have that same desperation. He clutched at his side again, the familiar crimson bloom of blood beginning to stain his tunic once more. Against all her better judgement, Athena raced after him, already beginning to fear more for his safety. 

Goddesses were never supposed to show worry or concern, never meant to show weakness. But there she was, running after her friend as he began to ramble while fleeing from the minor goddess. And Athena could hardly care how foolish she seemed.

“No… no, I won’t endure this! I can’t be stuck here! I have a home to return to - my people need their king. My son needs his father! PENELOPE!”

Odysseus ran towards the shore, a look of relief in his eyes as he saw the waves crash against the sand. He didn’t even seem to care that her uncle’s realm lay there before him - the panic and desperation to escape Calypso radiated off of him with every step. As he raced into the surf, Athena watched with increasing fear and worry as he continued to wade, the water rising to his knees, then to his waist. At any moment, her uncle would seize the opportunity and pull Odysseus beneath the surface. He would raise his arms in protest as he would frantically claw for the surface of the ocean while being dragged into the deep.

…or so she thought. The waves surged up around Odysseus, carelessly forcing him back to shore as he tumbled head over foot, depositing him haphazardly back onto the sand. As if on cue, Calypso knelt by Odysseus’s side, helping him sit on his knees as he yelped from the wound in his side reopening further. The bite of saltwater did little to ease the pain, the blood now freely spreading out further as he doubled over in pain.

Calypso’s arms wrapped around his chest as she pulled him into an embrace, her grip tightening as her eyes seemed to shimmer in joy. And all the while, that same brilliant smile continued to grace the minor goddess’s features since Calypso had first laid eyes on her friend.

“You’re mine, my dear. And I shall not ever let you go.”

Athena couldn’t watch anymore. Immediately, the goddess raised a hand as she paused the scene in front of her. Her heart was almost racing as she tried to digest the information. Stuck alone on an island with a goddess and with no way off of it… She could only think of a few other punishments that were just as terrible as this. Steeling herself for whatever came next, she allowed time to progress faster than before. 

With each second, the days turned to months. Turning her eyes skyward, she watched as the chariot of Helios, then that of Selene, passed overhead. Athena, however, watched in growing horror as the eventual pattern of their travels repeated. And repeated again. Though they seemed to barely waver in their deviations to the unknowing eye, she knew all too well how the routes of the chariots reflected the passage of time.

Seven years. She’d abandoned him in this place for seven years.

“Enough…”

Glancing back down onto the island could see glimpses of Odysseus - pushing Calypso and her displays of affection away, screaming at her with rage in his eyes…

…on his knees, begging at Calypso’s feet with his tears falling into the sand…

“THAT’S ENOUGH!”

She closed her eyes tightly shut, bringing her hands to her head as she struggled to keep the memory in focus. She would not break, would not show weakness - this was her fault, after all. She had abandoned Odysseus, stranded him without her guidance and aid. But she was still a goddess - despite it all, she still needed to show some decorum and control.

The sensation of rain on her skin, however, made Athena realize that her observations were not yet over.

She was hovering in the air again, watching as Calypso ran towards a cliffside, buffeted by the rain and wind that seemed to pummel her relentlessly. She continued to run in spite of that, approaching a ledge where–

“…No…”

A lone figure stood, gazing out into the storm.

“Odysseus?!”

“...do you hear them too, Calypso? They’ve been getting louder for me.”

“Ody, please - get away from the ledge!”

At once, Odysseus turned around to glare down Calypso. He didn’t even seem to care just how close to the edge he was. His eyes were brimming with tears, red-rimmed and glaring at Calypso with unbridled hate and revulsion. His dark hair was now streaked with silvery wisps of grey, his beard unkempt and grown enough to hide the wrinkles that were beginning to show on his face. Despite Calypso’s efforts to keep him fed and looked after, he looked like a shell of the man who’d sailed away from the shores of Troy.

Without the woman and son he loved, he was not truly a king.

“As if you actually cared for me! Not once, did you ever ask what I’d gone through, what I’d done to even end up on this damned island! The things that I’d done, the friends that I…”

Odysseus’s voice caught again. His tears mixed with the rain as the wind whipped angrily around him.

“My friends… every single one of them, dead…because I sacrificed them. I let them die. I can barely remember their faces now, but their voices… I can still…”

Odysseus looked away from Calypso, his face turning to gaze down, down to the depths below. As if sensing him, several of the waves seemed to leap higher, beckoning him to their embrace. Calypso drew the shawl even tighter around her shoulders as the wind seemed to pick up, carefully taking step after step to get closer to Odysseus.

“Odysseus. Please, my dear, just come back inside. I can make things better for you, better than they have ever been. I know your life has been difficult, but none of that matters now - you are here with me. I can make things better.”

“Let me sleep, Calypso. Give me your blessing to close my eyes. Grant me your mercy, just this once.”

Calypso quickly bolted forward, immediately sweeping Odysseus into a tight embrace once she was close enough. Odysseus did not react to her for the first time in seven years. He continued to look out to the wide ocean before him as his knees gave out and made contact with the soft earth, his face looking down to the lush ground beneath him. The goddess buried her face into his back, her own tears beginning to fall.

“I’d be lonely without you! If you left me now, I don’t know how my life would be. Just stay with me - no matter what you’ve done, what you’ve gone through, I shall always be here for you with open arms!”

Odysseus’s eyes widened at that - it was almost like he seemed to block out everything Calypso had said until those last two words. He glanced outwards, past the horizon, his eyes wavering for a moment before focusing on some empty spot in the air.

“Polites… Eurylochus…?”

She knew those names now since her dive. The one who had mutinied, and… the one that motivated her departure from him. Odysseus had spoken to her all those years ago out of fury and disdain for her, the way she had callously neglected the passing of his friend. And even worse, still, was that she had not truly understood the consequence of him being the first to fall to Polyphemus back then.

But now she comprehended just how important Polites was to him. Almost as important as–

Odysseus suddenly let out a choked sob, snapping the goddess of wisdom out of her thoughts. His body began to shake as his eyes brimmed with tears.

“...mom?!”

The bitter sting of tears sprung forth from Athena’s eyes for the first time since she dove into his memories. She knew exactly what it felt like to lose a mother. Only too well. Odysseus’s eyes widened as he took breath after ragged breath, his hands reaching out to uselessly grasp at the air in front of him.

“N– no, please! I’m so sorry, I never meant to make you wait for–! None of you should have died if it–! If I had-!”

He clawed desperately at the ground, working to break free from Calypso’s grasp. Still, she held tight, the goddess’s eyes briefly glowing with an ethereal light as she struggled to hold Odysseus in place. Anything to keep him from running over.

“Let go of me! Let me go! I don’t need you! I don’t want you! I never wanted-! I have to-!”

He curled in on himself, his voice turning in an relentless chorus of mournful wails and cries. Athena’s own tears seemed to flow like a river. The sobs quieted as Odysseus began to quietly mutter something. Amid the din of the storm, it was almost impossible to make out. 

“...thena…”

Athena took a shaky breath as she watched him force Calypso away with a burst of energy. As the young goddess claimed her unwilling companion in her arms once again, Odysseus frantically looked towards the sky, one shaky hand outstretched as he called out to…

To her.

“ATHENA!”

Athena rushed forward, arms outstretched. Her heart felt on the verge of burning itself out of her chest. As she knelt by Odysseus, her arms wrapped around him in an embrace, only for her to remember moments too late that this was only a memory. As the storm-ridden Ogygia fell from her sight, her hands met with empty air as the vision of Odysseus faded away, her arms swinging out to brace herself from colliding with the floor.

She was left kneeling in the middle of her realm, nails scraping lines into the marble beneath her hands. The tears would not stop coming, despite her wanting to will them away. But part of her would allow them to flow freely. After all, they were not for her, would never be for her - she didn’t deserve any tears or sympathy, not after what she’d done.

Damn that being only a memory, and damn her. Damn her for abandoning him in the heat of her emotions. Damn her for failing to warn him of the consequences of telling Polyphemus his name. Damn her to the lowest pits of Tartarus for making him suffer this fate! For what felt like hours, she simply knelt there, allowing the tears to fall as she mourned her negligence, her coldness, her…

No… there was no time to pity her circumstance, to mourn for what she had failed to do. Despite her misdeeds, she was still a goddess. And goddesses could still act in the affairs of mortals. But this wouldn’t be an act, not to her. Placing her helmet onto her head with a grim finality, she glanced at the grains of sand as they finally slipped back into the hourglass.

A stray tear fell from her cheek as, for briefest of moments, the sands briefly coalesced into the shape of her friend’s face, screaming her name.

“He needs my help.”

Chapter Text

Athena strode hurriedly through the halls of Olympus. Any sign of the tears she had shed were long since gone - she had to appear the most collected she’d been in centuries to even request something like what she had planned from her father. Had she the power, she would have happily spirited Odysseus away from Ogygia. But it was by Zeus’s judgement that he had washed ashore there - only by that very same judgement would he be allowed to return to Ithaca.

Stopping just outside the doors to the main hall, the goddess couldn’t help but pause, watching as the attendants on Olympus seemed to scatter into the shadows. Without doubt, the rumor mill would begin - her father’s favorite child had come to ask for a favor, and Zeus would obey her whims without a second of hesitation. It was one of the many things she despised about her circumstances - she was a child of Zeus, true, but she was also a goddess. She needed challenges, quests, a chance to prove herself in the eyes of her family.

Perhaps this would be that moment. Immediately, she pushed the doors to the main hall open, taking only a few steps forward into the room. She had practiced what she would say far too many times, but now that she was here, she hesitated for the briefest moment.

“Father?”

No. No calling him by that title, and certainly not now. Clenching her fists briefly, she strode towards the center of the hall. The clouds surrounding her briefly seemed to rise, seeming to acknowledge her presence.

Good, he was paying attention to her. For once in only a handful of times, his gaze did not seem to roam towards earth to… observe the figures of mortal men and women alike.

“God-King. I come asking for an audience… and a favor.”

A soft chuckle sounded in the air after a second of silence. As if on cue, the King of the Gods stepped forth from the abundance of clouds that seemed to litter the floors of the hall at any moment. The brilliant blue of his eyes sparkled with amusement as he looked down at her.

“Come now, Athena. No need to be so formal. Whatever you need, I’m certain that I can aid you. Now, tell me what’s on your mind.”

He clapped a warm hand onto her shoulder, his smile showing a fondness that was only reserved for a select few in the family. Athena managed a smile in return, but only barely - given the situation, she could already sense that her father’s mood would change in an instant. But she already made the choice to endure whatever task he’d put her through.

“There’s… a friend of mine. One who’s been held captive for years away from his home. A wise leader among his allies, and probably the most devoted to his family than any other I’ve seen. I ask for your aid in freeing him and granting him the mercy he’s long since deserved.”

She watched as her father pulled his hand away from her shoulder, following its path as it went to stroke his beard as he fell deep into thought. For a moment, Athena couldn’t help but think this was all for show, that he’d simply laugh her proposition away. But when he glanced down at her again, the look in his eyes made it clear he was taking this seriously.

“I suppose I could allow an intervention to occur. For a man to be away from his kingdom for so long… it may spell disaster for the people there. If he’s truly that important to you, it can be arranged. But who, may I ask, is this friend of yours?”

“Odysseus, the King of Ithaca.”

At that, the smile dropped instantly from his face. The air itself seemed to be charged with the lightning her father was fond of wielding. The shine in Zeus’s eyes faded as she looked to the goddess once more, the smallest traces of a scowl already beginning to show.

“You, out of us all, should know I can’t do that. Odysseus and his crew offended Helios by slaughtering one of his herd, and he made the choice to sacrifice them as payment. As for where he’s ended up, it’s merely a consequence of the crimes he allowed his men to commit.”

“I know, but–”

The quick glare from her father made her stop. Too rash, too desperate. The voice of her common sense rang loudly in her head. Play into his pride. Allow him to think he may have the upper hand.

“Yes, Odysseus had faulted Helios because of what he allowed his men to do, and he has made a great sacrifice in both your name and Helios’s. But it’s been nearly seven years since that day - the debt he incurred by letting his men act as foolish as they did has long since been paid. With the time he’s spent on Ogygia, do you not believe that he’s earned the right to return to Ithaca?”

The God-King looked down at his daughter with a neutral expression. He softly exhaled before continuing.

“If I did act to free him, he still angered Poseidon. That brother of mine has been scouring the oceans for years trying to find even a trace of him.”

That made Athena pause as she looked up to her father in surprise.

“You didn’t tell him?”

Zeus managed a smile at that. Good, he was still in high spirits.

“It would certainly make things less fun if I did.” 

She held back a smile of her own as she watched her father walk to the outer walls of the hall. His eyes turned to look at the earth miles below their home as the silence began to settle in. Athena only held her tongue - for a matter like this, she wouldn’t dare try and make her father hurry in his decision. As if he sensed her worry, Zeus turned his head to address her again.

“And even if I did tell my brother, it wouldn’t be possible for him to reach Odysseus either way. Ogygia was hidden away from the eyes of mortals and gods for a reason - what better way to punish those who rose up against us than to deny the existence of some to the world?”

At that, she paused. True, the Titanomachy had sent all of Olympus into a whirlwind of vengeance and punishment for all who rose up against her father and the other gods of Olympus. But she and her siblings had only heard of it long after her ‘birth’. With what Calypso had done, however, she had more than deserved her fate now. Athena briefly clenched her fist as she remembered Odysseus at the cliff. Calypso had prevented him from plummeting, at the very least. That was all Athena could ever be thankful to her for.

She nearly jumped out of her own skin as her father’s hand met her shoulder again. This time, it was heavier than before, almost as if that spot was charged with a surge of energy lurking just below the surface of his skin.

“But is this mortal really so important to you? You play with forces you cannot comprehend, Athena. In spite of everything he has done to anger our family, you’d still vouch for his freedom?”

“I would.”

The clouds around them both rumbled with energy - Athena’s hair felt like it was standing on end. 

“If he’s truly worth the risk…”

He clapped his hands together, a deafening peal of thunder sounding around them both. Athena flinched, but only briefly - had she brought her hands up to her ears, that would’ve been the end. A blink of her eyes and Zeus was now sitting idly on his throne, watching his daughter with a smile. But it wasn’t with the same fondness as before. Instead, it was one he frequently wore before spiriting himself down towards the world of the mortals.

“...Why not make it a game? Convince the others that he ought to be released, and I might just do so.”

“The others?”

Her father only smiled, propping his head up onto his hand as he smirked towards the young goddess.

“He’s angered our family, true, but it doesn’t mean all of them hold hate for that mortal. So here is my offer. Five of the family you must seek out and convince, and if you manage, then I’ll let your… friend go.”

There was a mocking tone behind the word that time. Fury simmered just beneath the surface as Athena listened to him speak about Odysseus. Her father, the ‘womanizer’ - even now, that word did little to explain his misdeeds. She and the family had listened on end to how his… exploits had allowed some of the mightiest of heroes to rise. And to this day, she was relieved that Odysseus had never been one of them.

“And if I refuse to convince them?”

“Then you convince me instead.”

Athena bit the inside of her cheek to keep herself from scoffing - there was always a catch. Despite him being known as the God of Judgement to the mortals below, such judgements were always done in a way that best satisfied him and no one else. Squaring her shoulders, she looked up at her father from within the shadow of her helm.

“...who are the five?”

The scowl on Zeus’s deepened for a moment. Had her father really expected her to convince him instead? Time had taught her a powerful lesson in how her father treated her siblings - her brothers had suffered more than once from invoking Zeus’s wrath, either bringing punishment upon themselves or those closest to them. She would not tread down that path so carelessly.

“Three who sided with Troy will be among them. Apollo, Aphrodite, and Ares. All have their grievances against the Greeks for what they’d done, and your friend simply happened to be on the side they despise.”

“Understood. And the other two?”

“Hephaestus and Hera.”

Her eyebrows shot up in mild surprise. So, Poseidon would still be left in ignorance of what would transpire here. Her gaze hardened, doing everything in her power to hide her relief. She could not show even a moment of weakness or gratitude here.

“If you don’t mind me asking, why them?”

“Call it… a moral issue. They’ve seen what Odysseus has done, and simply need a little push in their convictions.”

Athena could only nod in understanding. Hephaestus had faced betrayal from those closest to him, but Hera… well, that was certainly a conundrum, even for her. One she would now have to uncover.

“The order of who you choose is of no importance. Simply convince them, and the matter will be resolved. So… what do you all say?”

He held his hand out to the side and, in an instant, the five gods mentioned shimmered into existence. At least, that’s what it seemed like at first - of course, they would not all be in the main hall at once, even at the behest of the King of the Gods. They were merely visions, true, but each seemed to watch her with mixed expressions.

“As our dear father requests!” The first apparition bowed their head in fealty, their voice seeming to lilt in humor as they spoke. 

“As you say.” The second’s voice came out short and clipped - obviously, they had better things to do with their time than to judge the fate of a mortal.

The third tilted its head to the side - Athena swore she could see their eyes roll. “Fine. I’ve better things to do with my time, but I suppose I can play along.”

“FINALLY! It’s been too long since ichor’s been spilled!” The fourth apparition raised their fist in pride, only to shrink back for a moment as Zeus shot it a deathly serious glare.

The fifth seemed to stare up to Zeus first before its gaze turned to her. She could see the way its shoulders seemed to sag. “If you insist, dearest.”

Looking at the apparitions, she couldn’t tell what their expressions were from this distance. But her father had one of… smugness. Of course he would. The games he played with mortals and, on occasion, his own family made her blood boil. But she was careful in her words and actions - she had learned in a short matter of time exactly what would upset or infuriate him. She would not dare cross that line if she had the chance.

Five gods, five minds to change. For most gods, this was an impossible feat. And, for a moment, doubt reared its ugly head within the goddess’s heart. What if she failed? Out of the five, what if there was one she couldn’t convince? What-?

No.

Immediately, she banished the thought. Odysseus was still trapped on Ogygia, still desperate to find a way home. He had not yet given in to the goddess who held him there. And Athena would not stand idly by any longer.

Manifesting the Aegis and her spear in her hands, she slammed the pommel of the spear down onto the marble floors of the main hall, staring up into electric blue eyes as grey slates seemed to harden further with resolve.

“Bring it.”

Chapter Text

It was always too damned bright in Apollo’s realm.

Despite the clouds that dotted the too-perfect sky above, he always had a tendency to overwhelm the eyes with the amount of light he allowed in. Even the very grass beneath her sandals seemed to reflect the light effortlessly back into her eyes.

He said it was one of the many ways he was able to dazzle his visitors. Personally, she thought it to be a nuisance. However, there were moments where she could rely on Apollo for almost anything. Perhaps this could be one of them.

She could already see a gaggle of nymphs together in a cluster. Some of them were standing, others sitting, but all of their attention seemed to focus on two figures practicing their archery skills. As one of them shot an arrow towards a target in the distance, a smattering of giggles and applause rose up from the small crowd.

That was definitely Apollo.

As Athena drew closer to the two archers, she could already hear them in a small debate for one another. At the sound of the argument, the goddess couldn’t help but bite back a smile. The two shone in equal levels of radiance, but the blessing of the two archers in the family being twins certainly had its more interesting moments. The two were frequently at odds with each other almost every other day, and yet, their camaraderie was more commendable than ever.

“Seriously, this isn't supposed to be a contest, Apollo. The more you show off, the more you leave an opening for others to strike at you.”

“Art, please! If you’re just going to shoot an arrow, it doesn’t make things fun for anyone. And you’re not really one to talk like you have authority over me.”

“I’m older than you by a few minutes, of course I have authority over you. And can you please not shorten my name like that? It’s ridiculous. And don’t even make me bring up your… fanatics. Do they have to watch us every time we practice?”

“Admirers, sister. There’s a very immense difference between my admirers and Dionysus’s maenads. Seriously, do you have to-”

A quick clearing of Athena’s throat changed their attention rather quickly. Artemis immediately turned at the noise, her hand briefly drawing the string back on her bow. On immediately seeing that it was the other goddess, however, the goddess of the hunt visibly relaxed, placing the arrow she held back in its quiver. Apollo’s smile seemed to falter for the tiniest moment before it resumed that same level of charm he carried with him.

“Forgive me for interrupting your practice, but I take it you’ve heard of father’s little… game he decided to put me through.”

Artemis couldn’t help but stifle a laugh. Apollo immediately shot her a glare in response.

“Unfortunately. His summons threw one of Apollo’s shots off-target.”

“Hey! Nearly off target.”

Apollo’s anger immediately faded away, using a free hand to push any stray locks of hair out of his eyes before looking back over to Athena.

“But seriously, sister, do we really have to go through all this song and dance?”

Apollo couldn’t help but chuckle at his own little joke. Athena willed herself to keep herself from rolling her eyes. Thankfully, out of the corner of her eye, she could see that Artemis did it for her.

“This was father’s doing, not mine. If I had any other choice, I wouldn’t be here in the first place. But his ruling is law and, like it or not, I was charged with asking you and the others. So, will you help me?”

Apollo put on a thoughtful expression, placing one hand beneath his chin to complete the illusion. Athena couldn’t help but glance over to Artemis, who returned her exasperated expression with one of her own. Out of all the other gods within the family, it seemed that the two of them were the only ones who seemed to understand the severity of the situation.

“I would, but…”

One of Athena’s eyebrows raised. “But?”

Apollo let out a dramatic sigh, moving his hand from his chin to let the back of it dramatically rest on his forehead. “But the world’s lost a little bit of music because of him, don’t you agree? Those poor, poor sirens have all lost their voices and their lives on account of your hero! He has to be punished for the crimes he’s gone and committed against our uncle’s dearest creatures.”

The crowd of nymphs seemed to deflate as the god proclaimed his woes. Some of them even seemed to coo in sympathy for the God of Light. It was taking everything in Athena to not just hurl her spear into the middle of the crowd. She didn’t have time for any of this!

It wasn’t until Apollo opened his eyes and offered her a wink that Athena realized the whole purpose of this. Her father had mentioned it was a game, after all - of course she’d have to play along, as well. Immediately, the tension seemed to roll off her shoulders as she offered Apollo a similar smile in return.

Nice try, but two can play this game.

“...do you really think that? You seem to be forgetting something very important, Apollo.”

The smile on her brother’s face grew just the tiniest bit wider as he righted himself again. “Really? I don’t think I seem to be missing that much.”

A slight tilt of her head at that. “Sirens have always sought to devour and drown those who come across their waters. How many ships were lost to them before Odysseus sailed by?”

That certainly seemed to catch Apollo off guard. Instead of thinking about it for the sake of dramatics, he genuinely seemed to think about it for a while. The silence was unbearable, but Athena would endure it.

“...in terms of that particular group, or in general?”

Athena smiled the tiniest bit. Now, she had him.

“Then you see my point - the sirens have caused enough suffering on their own. It would only have been a matter of time before they finally encountered someone who was clever enough to see through their tricks. Would you act this way if that someone happened to not be one of my students?”

“Well, no, but-!”

“But they’ve learned a powerful lesson in this - to be wary of those they try to lure. And, unless I’m mistaken, Odysseus did not kill every single siren that lurked in those waters. Only the ones he and his crew managed to capture. Or am I wrong about that, as well?”

For the briefest moment, Apollo glanced over to his sister, seeming to look for some sort of advice or support from her. All Artemis could do was raise her hands in innocence, the smallest trace of a smirk briefly on her lips. As Apollo turned back to her, he took on a more casual smile. Athena felt the tension slowly begin to ebb - at least he was willing to listen to reason today.

“Well, true - I have been hearing some more of them sing as of late.”

Athena smiled. That was all she needed to hear.

“So my chosen warrior has taught them the virtue of being cautious. Word has probably spread amongst the other sirens over what Odysseus has done - now, the next time they spy a potential meal in their waters, they’ll be careful before they even think of luring the men to them.”

She closed the distance between her and Apollo effortlessly, one of her hands coming to rest on his shoulder. 

“And isn’t having some music in the world better than having none at all? They’ll learn and endure from this, Apollo - you have my word.”

Apollo appeared to be in genuine thought as he allowed his sister's words to sink in, glancing down to the ground beneath his sandals. Looking back up, a smile graced his features as he smiled up to Athena.

“If that’s true, release him.”

A roll of thunder sounded off in the distance. 

Light had been exchanged for heat. Oppressive, all-consuming heat. It threatened to choke her, steal the very breath from her lungs due to how it seemed to press down upon her. But she would continue to endure as she delved deeper into Hephaestus’s abode.

The rhythmic pounding of a hammer signaled her brother’s presence. No doubt, working on another project assigned by one in the family - or one he granted to himself. As she walked closer, she could hear the immense bellows of the furnace beginning to work overtime. Through the steam, Hephaestus was hunched over… something, she couldn’t tell what at first. But on closer inspection, she could see a sheet of bronze slowly being forged into shape. 

In the corner, she could see an immense skeleton looming over the two of them. Or, at least, what looked like a skeleton - parts of it were already meticulously covered by pieces of bronze, the plates seeming to warp its shape as she peered at the hulking figurine through the intense heat. Another attempt at Talos, maybe? She would have to ask him later.

“Hephaestus. I don’t want to waste your time, but you know the duty father cast upon you.”

A brief glance up to his sister, then back down to his work as he set the hammer aside. Athena hid a wince of pain as he grabbed for the piece of burning bronze with a bare hand, her brother showing no visible reaction - his craft had excelled in the years since he first began the practice, and he had seemed to grow an immunity to the very environment around them both.

“Unfortunately, yes. This is about your Odysseus, isn’t it? Very well, I’ll make my point quickly.”

Setting aside his hammer, he carefully worked with both hands to work the metal into the shape he desired.

“I do not care for what he has done, but for what he has broken. That of the trust of his allies and men.”

He walked to the skeleton, carefully placing the sheet of bronze in place onto part of the automaton.

“Despite what our uncle had done to his crew, he had remained faithful to keep their safety. And yet, he permitted Scylla to take six of his men, then allowed the rest of his crew to die by our father’s hand.”

With one final press, the sheet of bronze held its place along what would be the leg of the new automaton. He turned back to watch Athena for a moment, one brow raised in a sort of challenge.

“So tell me - why should I offer my support to a mortal like that?”

Athena could only sigh, carefully maneuvering around the workshop to avoid its multiple hazards. Unlike some of the others within their family, she and Ares had the tendency to respect Hephaestus’s craft. For a moment, her mind flashed briefly to one particular incident where Hermes had snuck into Hephaestus’s workshop and had, against the counsel of her other siblings, rearranged everything.

The bellowing yells of anger from one brother and the pure yowls of terror and fear from the other certainly rocked the foundations of Olympus that day.

Standing in front of Hephaestus, she did her best to hide any signs of sympathy in her eyes. The countless scars that Hephaestus bore on his body from his falls from Olympus would have made any other god turn away in disgust. But Athena had remained steadfast in speaking with him, despite his outward appearance.

“He didn’t sacrifice them on a whim, you know.”

Hephaestus looked up from the piles of tin and copper ore he was sorting through, the eyebrow going up again for the briefest of moments before he looked back down to his work.

“True, he allowed six of his men to die at the hands of Scylla, but our uncle gave him no other choice but to go that path. Unless you’d rather he risked evading another obstacle instead. Charybdis, maybe?”

Hephaestus gave a dry chuckle at that, fetching one of countless crucibles near the furnace.

“Any mortal who goes against Charybdis is even more a fool than your Odysseus.”

“And further still, the sacrifice did not come without cause,” Athena continued. “Eurylochus had admitted to opening the wind bag from Aeolus at that moment. While it doesn’t excuse what Odysseus chose to do, Eurylochus turned against his captain not long afterwards. And even further still, Perimedes openly chose to stab Odysseus after he struck Eurylochus down. Following that, the crew then bound him in rope before–”

“I get it, Athena.”

Carefully putting the crucible with the chosen ores into the furnace, Hephaestus looked over to his sister with a cautious glance. Keeping one eye on the crucible as the flames began to heat it, he stepped away and glared at his sister, arms crossing in front of his chest as he did so.

“But what are you getting at, exactly?”

“Each sacrifice that Odysseus made was not done recklessly. They were ultimatums that he was forced to make due to his circumstances. He would have chosen differently if he had been given the opportunity, by god or monster alike.”

She stepped closer to Hephaestus, keeping her hands at her sides as she maintained her focus on him. She knew better than to intervene in his craft - the slightest deviation would force him to restart his project and his mood would instantly sour as a result. The denial from him would be instantaneous.

“If you allow Odysseus to be set free, he will still have a chance to rebuild his life from what it is now. He may have no strong connections at this moment, but if given the chance to return to Ithaca, he will have a wife and son who will still stand by his side, in spite of all that’s happened to him.”

Hephaestus paused in his work, grabbing the crucible from within the furnace and examining the color for a brief moment. His lip curled slightly before slotting it back in - not to his satisfaction just yet. But even still, an unusual softness entered into his features. The mentions of a wife who adored their husband were not unknown to him - the scars of his first marriage were, obviously, still very fresh in his mind.

Aglaea, however, had done plenty to repair the wound that Aphrodite had left behind.

“...fine. Release him.”

She sighed in relief, offering a tiny bow towards her brother as she turned to go.

“Athena.”

Immediately, she paused at the call of her name. Turning to glance back at Hephaestus, the look he gave her was one of concern. It was rare for him to be so open with his siblings, even more so with her considering how differently her father viewed the two of them. Her, a boon and he, a bane - again, disgust rose up in Athena’s heart at the thought alone.

“Our father has… we all know not to cross a line with him. Even if you are his favorite, please, I urge you to be careful. He can still…”

He glanced down to his scarred form before looking back up to Athena, his eyes hardening at the very memory of how he obtained them. The unspoken message was all too clear.

“I’ll do my best, Hephaestus, but… whatever cost is posed to see Odysseus free from Ogygia, I have to pay it. For his sake and his son’s.”

Thunder rumbled in the distance once more. Louder this time.

Chapter Text

Out of all the other gods on Olympus, Aphrodite was one of the few Athena truly did not tolerate.

From constantly trying to force the near relentless promises of finding her and Artemis suitors to the ‘flings’ she would casually have with those on Olympus, there was plenty that Athena disliked about her great-aunt. But the conflict in Troy had been enough to divide almost all of the family into separate camps. For most, the seven years since the war had passed them by in the blink of an eye - in time, the bonds that had been severed would eventually be reforged.

But for two of the family, however, that wouldn't be the case for quite some time.

Aphrodite could often be found in several places at a moment’s notice. Today, however, she was by her vanity, carefully plaiting her hair back and pinning it back with an accessory adorned with golden flowers. Her arms were already decorated with bracelets and armbands, and a very opulent pendant rested at the hollow of her throat. She had always asked for the most gorgeous and, to Athena’s eyes, garish things to help accentuate how her body and face looked to the eyes of men and gods alike. Unlike Athena’s own flaws, Aphrodite’s pride and vanity came with far heavier consequences for anyone who dared cross her.

“...Aphrodite.”

At the sound of her name, Aphrodite’s spine immediately stiffened. After a second of silence, she relaxed again, turning to look at her niece with a smile that practically screamed ‘sweetness’. Honey itself would’ve had a hard time competing with it. But Athena knew better than to take that smile at face value.

“Athena, sweetheart. How long has it been since we’ve last spoken?”

“If I recall correctly, since Troy burned. Has your wrist been treating you well?”

Aphrodite’s lip curled for the briefest of moments, but her smile stayed firmly on. For a moment, Athena looked at her in slight confusion - had Aphrodite really taken it to be an insult? She still remembered the scream that tore from Aphrodite’s throat as Diomedes’s spear had cleanly gone through her wrist. She was no stranger to war, but even the most hardened of gods wouldn’t have been able to endure an injury like that without a reaction.

“Better than the injuries of some others. But I’d rather not spend time wasting my pleasantries with you. Let’s, instead, focus on your ‘Warrior of the Mind’.”

Athena bristled at the tone of the other goddess’s voice - how dare Aphrodite make a mockery of him. But she would be patient and would wait to see how to best rebut the other goddess’s argument. She watched as Aphrodite rose from her seat, sauntering towards her with a look that Athena had once seen on a lioness in the midst of protecting her cubs.

“Word’s spread that fast on Olympus?”

“Oh, it certainly has. And I see no reason to free him from that place. He claims to love those around him, and yet…”

Aphrodite’s facade wavered for the tiniest of moments as the smallest of sobs broke free from her throat. Tears began to fall from her cheeks as her lip quivered at the thought that seemed to plague her mind.

“His poor mother…”

Athena felt tears burn in her own eyes once again. She remembered the sorrowful cries that poured from Odysseus’s mouth at the sight of the shade of Anticlea. The memory she witnessed was still all too fresh. Raising a hand to her face, she discreetly wiped at her cheeks. No weakness in front of the family, especially in front of one like Aphrodite.

“She had been waiting for him for so long and without faltering once, but she… that poor dear died of a broken heart!”

The tears still fell from Aphrodite’s cheeks as she turned to glare at Athena, a look of fury practically consuming her.

“And he's allowed to return home just like that?! What about the men he sacrificed to Scylla? Those he lost to the others in our family? They had families, as well - don’t they deserve for their loss to be mourned, as well?!”

“Odysseus was busy fighting in a war that was caused by us! One he should have had no reason in fighting in the first place had Palamedes not intervened!”

Had this been any time sooner, Athena would have solely placed the blame on Aphrodite’s shoulders. It was because of her influence that Paris chose to spirit Helen away to Troy. But she, Hera, and Aphrodite had all been complicit in allowing that damned golden apple to sway them all so easily. They had allowed Paris to make a choice where there should’ve been none to even begin with.

A cruel bark of laughter shook Athena from her thoughts again.

“That war? Please, Thene - had he not told that cyclops his name, he would have been home ages ago! You and I both know it!”

Aphrodite’s face hardened into one of sheer indignance.

“I say, let him stay there. Let him rot on that island, left with nothing but the pain that his mother felt in all her years of waiting for him.”

With that, Aphrodite brushed by Athena as she stormed away to some part of her realm. Something within Athena began to burn at her heart, more horrid than any scar she’d obtained in war. Her hands felt cold and clammy, and something began to prickle along the back of her neck. Whatever this feeling was, she was already beginning to loathe it.

“WAIT!”

At once, Aphrodite took hold of Aphrodite’s shoulder as she allowed her “Quick Thought” to draw them both in. The splendor that was Aphrodite’s realm instantly melted into an abyss of stars and galaxies, the marble beneath their feet instantly replaced with the intricate engravings of the hourglass top.

“Please, Dite…”

A pet name. One that was only used in times of trying to satisfy the other goddess’s ego or, in her brother’s case, admiration and adoration. Against everything in Athena screaming at her not to, but she knelt in front of Aphrodite, lowering her head in compliance. She hated to plead like this, despised the very idea of making herself lesser to the other gods on Olympus. 

But the image of Odysseus on the ledge flashed in her mind for just a moment. And the moment was enough.

“Reconsider this, I beg you. He may not have been there for his mother, but… he has a son. He’s been away from him and his wife for twenty years. He’s suffered enough because of us, and… he never had the chance to watch Telemachus grow up. He deserves a chance, more than anything else, to see the sort of man his son’s become. Please.”

Aphrodite’s look of surprise faltered at that, turning to one of sympathy as she knelt down to match Athena’s level. Her brow furrowed as she looked at the goddess of wisdom in the eyes - trying to discern if her emotions were genuine, perhaps. There was no hate, no vitriol in her gaze this time - this was the face of a mother who was already so protective of her own children. How could she deny another child their own family?

But at once, the air began to turn heavy. Oppressive. A prickle of anticipation ran down both of the goddess’s spines. But Athena began to feel something else entirely.

Panic. Dread. The very way a rabbit felt before it was about to meet the jaws of the wolf.

“Really, sister? Begging now?”

At the voice, Aphrodite’s eyes immediately lit up with joy, looking over Athena’s for a moment before immediately backing away from the other goddess. The rush of air was all the warning Athena had as her moment of “Quick Thought” shuddered, the deep blues of her cosmos immediately shifting into a bloody, violent red. The serene starlight gave way to a bloody, upturned battlefield - the upturned earth occasionally dotted by shattered shields and broken swords.

Immediately she jumped to her feet, quickly allowing the Aegis to manifest onto her arm as she braced herself for the inevitable attack. Just as quickly as she’d done so, she felt an immense weight suddenly slam against the shield’s surface. Were she a mortal, her arm would’ve shattered at the very impact. Thankfully enough, she only skidded a few inches or so back.

Looking up over the rim of her shield, she stared into the helmet her brother wore. By some magic that had been placed upon it, she looked into an endless void of shadow instead of his face proper. His secret shame lay just beneath, only known to a few. His armor, while more marked by battle than her own, still shone with the amount of care and maintenance he placed upon it.

“ARES! You have no right interfering this early!”

“Always one for rules, sister. Father never said there was an order - I’m simply taking the opportunity I was owed!”

At the last word, he brought up a foot to kick square into the center of her shield, forcing her back. Not even sparing a second, Ares launched himself towards Athena again, swinging his xiphos with an almost blinding fury. Immediately, Athena allowed her spear to manifest itself in her hand as she did her best to parry his attacks.

From the corner of her eye, she could see Aphrodite letting herself lean against one of the greatswords that littered the field. There was a gleam of… something in her eye. Amusement? Satisfaction? Sadistic glee? She couldn’t tell, but she could hardly focus now. Ares briefly drove the xiphos towards her midsection, but it was quickly deflected away by the Aegis.

“Your Odysseus is nothing more than a spineless coward! Held himself back while his friends died around him! Even sacrificing six to that damn beast!”

Athena couldn’t help but grit her teeth at that. Scylla was not a beast - merely another victim of circumstance to a goddess’s petty whims. And the ‘beast’ her brother spoke of was avoided for good reason. Poseidon had gone to see the newest addition to his waters in the days following her transformation, but the scars Scylla had left on him were the talk of Olympus for months on end. Athena’s spear struck out, the pole of her spear briefly making contact with the iron of his sword.

“If Poseidon himself took to avoiding Scylla’s home, how could you expect a mortal to-?”

“AS IF I CARE ABOUT WHAT OUR DAMNED UNCLE THINKS!” 

He ducked this time, trying to sweep at her shins. Even with her greaves, Athena took several steps back to even avoid contact with the xiphos. Again and again, their weapons clashed against the other as they sparred in both actions and words.

“That man of yours didn't even try to kill, let alone fight her! And for all your strategies, he was still cowardly!”

A swipe - Athena hissed in pain as the blade ran along her forearm.

“Hiding himself in that damn horse to surprise the Trojans,”

Another cut on her collar.

“Constantly plotting and scheming his way out of every conflict he was in,”

Athena quickly moved her foot out of the way as Ares drove the blade down towards where it once was.

“Pathetic and spineless - it’s no wonder that son of his grew up the same way!”

Pure, white-hot rage immediately flooded Athena’s senses at that.

As he moved to swing the xiphos down onto her shoulder, the Aegis dissipated as her hand shot forward, faster than her own father’s lightning, and grabbed Ares’s wrist in a grip more sturdy than iron. The heat and fury of the realm began to grow uncomfortably cold for the three gods still there. The red of Ares’s realm began to fall away as a wave of blue cosmos passed over the trio.

“What did you just say about Telemachus?”

The chill in her own voice briefly surprised her, but rage continued to bloom within Athena’s heart. Before Ares could muster a reply, she let her spear similarly disappear from her other hand as she suddenly grabbed beneath Ares’s forearm, lifting him over her head with a fierce cry and hurling him away from her. Her fingers began to sharpen into the talons of her more primordial form, but she could hardly care at this moment. Manifesting her spear in hand once again, she lunged. As Ares tumbled to the floor, he immediately righted himself before blocking attack after attack from her.

“Don’t you DARE let me hear you slander his name like that EVER again! His son is my friend, and I will face this family ten times over before I hear the names of Telemachus and Odysseus leave your mouths so poorly!”

Drawing her leg towards her body, Athena kicked Ares square in the chest, watching with a tiny smile on her features as he was sent tumbling backwards, head over heels. Athena turned to Aphrodite, the anger in her face lessening slightly.

“And Odysseus suffered just as badly seeing Anticlea in the Underworld! Regardless of what you may think, he deserves love just as much as any mortal! Let him return home, and the love he has for Penelope and his son will nourish you for decades.”

Aphrodite’s eyes widened for a moment before she glanced towards where Ares had landed. Already, Athena’s brother was staggering back to his feet, a hand briefly going to his head in an attempt to steady himself.

“And as for YOU-!”

Athena rushed forwards to face Ares again, sweeping upwards with the pommel of her spear, effortlessly knocking Ares’s helmet free from his head. Stray locks of his hair fell around his face, and his eyes widened in fear as his sister continued to attempt a strike at him. The clean-shaven face seemed frantic, almost panicked as he continued to dodge and evade her attacks.

All the better for her.

“If you truly want to see violence, let him return home! A hundred and eight targets are waiting to be struck down for all they’ve done to his family - he’ll ensure their blood to you the minute he lands on Ithaca’s shores!”

With one practiced maneuver, Athena’s spear dislodged the xiphos from Ares’s hand, sending him stumbling back to the ground. Aphrodite suddenly appeared from Athena’s periphery, running and gently kneeling by the other god’s side to caress his face. They both looked at each other for a moment - an unspoken conversation in their eyes - before Ares visibly relaxed into Aphrodite’s arms.

“...ugh. Release him.”

In near-perfect unison as well. Lifting her helmet off of her head, Athena tucked it under one arm before letting her spear vanish from her other hand, offering it down to her brother with a kind smile. After a moment of collecting his breath, the god of war beamed as his scarred hand clasped on to hers, minimal effort needed from either of them as the god was hauled to his feet. Athena offered him and Aphrodite a grateful nod - the Goddess of Love seemed to soften in her expression, the tiniest traces of a smile on her lips - and made a move to leave.

“Thene?”

Athena immediately paused at that. That nickname was rarely used by anyone, least of all her own siblings. The confusion was all too obvious in her face, and Ares’s own face turned to one of compassion. Something that was only known to the lucky few who saw this side of him.

“This mortal of yours really is worth it, isn’t he? I know you don’t like my advice some days, but… if our father doesn’t like the way you-”

“Ares.”

Athena quickly glanced away as the tears began to sting at her eyes. Clenched her jaw as tightly as she could, she looked away from the two. She would not falter, would not show any sign of weakness in front of either of them.

“I have to do this. For Odysseus and his family. Please, let me finish this.”

With that, the goddess turned to leave. Ares made a move to reach forward, but Aphrodite gently clasped his callused hand in her own unblemished ones. 

“Dite, we can’t just let her-”

“I know, Ares, but you know what Athena’s like. These problems are hers. If we interfere, she won’t forgive any of us.”

Athena bit at her lip again as she walked away from the two voices. Ares only continued to argue, and it tore the Goddess of Wisdom's heart to pieces - for all her fancy airs, Aphrodite was right.

This was her burden, and Athena would not set it down for anyone else to bear.

Chapter Text

Four gods had been convinced by her words and actions. But it was still not enough. There was still one more that needed to be convinced. 

Hera Argeia. Hera Samia. All names granted to her by the mortals below, and yet… Athena was still unsure how to feel about her. They had clashed over the apple of strife during the wedding of Peleus, and yet stood so firmly by each other’s side during the Trojan War. Would their past be the undoing of all her effort? Pausing in front of her father’s chambers, she steeled herself before knocking on the doors before her.

“Come in, dear.”

With a gentle push of the doors, Athena stepped into the room. Gone were her spear and the Aegis, gone was the armor she wore. She would not seem a threat to the last who could help her friend.

The matron of the gods sat by her other attendants, offering them soft and gentle smiles as a mother would to their own children. One of them was holding out a tray, on it a cup and an oinochoe that, no doubt, held wine the deepest colors of scarlet. The other was standing behind Hera, carefully combing through the other goddess’s bountiful hair with a brush fashioned from the bone of some creature.

A gentle clearing of Athena’s throat, however, snapped Hera out of her thoughts. She watched the other goddess before softly sighing and rising from her seat, taking the cup of wine along with her. A soft clap of her hands, and the attendants bowed towards Hera before leaving the room.

The two goddesses remained where they stood, waiting as the last attendant with the tray hurried as best as they could out of the door. The minute the door closed behind her, Athena’s shoulders sagged ever-so-slightly.

“...my Lady Hera. You know why I’m here.”

“Yes, yes, that horrible matter with that little mortal of yours. Athena, dearest, you should know better than to deal with such… heroes .”

At once, Hera turned to one on the many walls of her room and walked towards it. Athena let her gaze follow the matron goddess to the tapestry that hung there, now torn to bits and stained by wine. Athena already knew which hero was once there in all its glory - he'd been holding aloft the fleece of a sheep as he stepped away from the corpse of a dragon, at his side a maiden, almost ethereal in her beauty. Olympus knew that day of the rage Hera felt at how her former champion, Jason, had fallen from her graces. And every rage ever felt since that time was cast upon that tapestry.

For only a handful of times, Athena was glad to see her work handled so carelessly.

Hera’s gaze softened for a moment as she let her fingers absentmindedly run over the fraying threads. But just as quickly as the emotion made its way onto her face, it disappeared immediately as she looked back to Athena with a smile.

“But even after all this time, you’re still learning. So, I offer an alternative…”

A sip from her cup, and then she continued.

“One. Good. Reason. That’s all I ask - why should your hero prevail among all the rest we’ve chosen over the years?”

Athena felt a chill run down her spine. Only one reason, and that would be her victory. The goddess could feel herself begin to pace as she thought over anything even remotely pleasing to the Matron Goddess. Immediately a thought entered her mind, but she didn't stop in her walk.

“His mind! I’ve helped him to grow into becoming a great strategist - because of this, he was able to keep the men that sailed with him to Troy alive.”

“Until he angered my brother. And there are other clever minds out there, dearest. Or did you forget Perseus and Theseus?”

Athena could already feel Hera's gaze burning into her back, peering over the rim of her cup. Back and forth again.

“He’s a craftsman at words. Able to persuade man, monster, and goddess alike.”

A dry laugh escaped Hera’s throat.

“Every great hero has been good with their words. Even Heracles managed to woo two women to his side, brute that he was.”

Athena’s hand twitched for a minute before clenching tight. Her pacing slowed for a moment as her mind raced for something, anything that could convince Hera to allow him to walk freely.

“He’s a comedian! At any chance he had while at Troy, he could always find a way to make his crew…”

Athena’s voice petered out, finally coming to a stop in her frantic pacing. Hera’s lip briefly curled, the grip on her cup tightening ever-so-slightly.

“...It seems this matter between us has ended.”

As Hera turned to leave, Athena felt… something begin to rise in her throat. It briefly held itself there, but then sunk lower and lodged itself tightly in the very depths of her heart. Despite her trying to will the feeling away, it seemed to respond in kind as the feeling began to spread outward, threatening to consume her very being. She already knew what it was.

Fear. And fear would make even the most stalwart goddesses say something they normally wouldn’t.

“He’s loyal to his wife!”

Hera paused mid-step at that. Athena didn’t even hesitate, stepping forward and placing a gentle hand on her adoptive mother's shoulder.

“In the near-twenty years since his absence from Ithaca, Odysseus has not once faltered in his vows to Penelope! When faced with both Circe and Calypso, he’s refused their advances! He would never betray his promise to Penelope, even if his very life depended on it!”

Hera didn’t move, didn’t react for a good long while. She turned to look at her adoptive daughter in the eyes, seeming to search for the truth. Athena could only nod as she continued.

“Odysseus had nearly given in to Circe’s whims, but he pulled himself away. Calypso has faced constant rejection from him, outright refusal! He would never forsake a promise as true as the one he made to his wife. Not even the gods themselves could tempt him away.” 

Hera’s eyes softened, her face taking on an indecipherable look. Countless emotions flooded her face - hope, regret, sorrow, reluctance, disbelief. Athena held her silence, pulling her hands away to rest by her sides as Hera merely stood there. After what felt like an eternity, the older goddess's head turned toward the private chambers of both her and Zeus. Her expression turned cold, hateful, resentful as she thought of the god she shared her bed with. Hera’s jaw only clenched as she looked on, slowly taking a deep breath as Athena awaited her answer.

“...release him.”

“I told you, Dite, I’m fine! There’s no need for you to tend to me like this.”

“Hush, dear, even a scratch like this will leave a scar on you! And besides, there was no need to be so harsh with Thene. She’s just doing what your father ordered.”

“Tch. I know… still doesn’t mean it won’t hurt to spar once in a while.”

A soft and airy chuckle sounded from behind the two gods. Another one seemed to rumble up from out of nowhere.

“My, my, the two love-birds still so intertwined after all these years?”

The growl from Ares’s mouth was unavoidable. “Shut it, flyboy. I don’t recall Dionysus being asked to participate. Did you have to invite him?”

The god of revelry casually leaned back onto the kline, placing his hands behind his head as he smirked at his half-brother. “Please, Ares, I’m a god of theatre. And, if you ask me, this is the perfect scenario for a little bit of drama."

All of this was a ploy to get under his skin, but the God of War would not let himself be strung along. Distracting himself from Aphrodite’s affections, Ares turned to scan the crowd. The main hall was now… livelier than usual. He could see nymphs, naiads, and lesser gods alike in the wings of the main hall, the center of the hall still being left empty. Why had his father thought to bring others here?

“There isn’t a need for a fight, you three. Not today.”

The voice caused a reaction between them all. Ares immediately turned at the voice, his eyes widening at seeing his mother standing among them all. And not at the side of his father… 

Already, Ares could feel a sense of something begin to crawl within his flesh. But he wouldn’t let the family know just yet.

“Mother? What’s happened? Athena and you, how did that… well, I don’t know if father told you the rules about it, but-”

“She convinced me.”

Several of the gods stared in surprise at Hera’s abrupt admission. Even Ares was surprised at how casually his mother had admitted it. Apollo was the first to speak.

“How… what in Tartarus did she say to convince you?!”

At that, Hera lowered her head slightly. There was a hint of… something in her eyes. Hesitation, sympathy? He couldn’t tell what.

“...that her hero’s a faithful man.”

It was as if a shockwave passed through the family itself. Some exchanged worried glances, others began to frantically talk amongst themselves. Artemis frantically pulled Apollo to one side, the two siblings began to hurriedly whisper between themselves - Ares could barely hear what they said as he felt Aphrodite’s hand clutch desperately at his arm.

“She couldn’t have… she knows how Zeus would react to that sort of leverage! What is she even thinking, bring up-”

A sudden, but rough, cough from Hephaestus interrupted them all.

“Quiet, all of you. Athena’s here.”

The murmuring of the crowd started to die down as the goddess of wisdom strode towards the center of the hall. As if they were one being, the heads of the family turned and followed her as she strode to confront her father. Ares immediately turned to look at the throne…

…and he felt his heart freeze within his chest. His father sat hunched over the seat of his throne, fingers steepled in front of him as he stared down his daughter. But the thing that shook Ares to his core the most was his eyes. There was a coldness in them that Ares was all too familiar with. A look of disapproval, of disdain. Zeus’s hand moved to the arm of his throne, clutching it  tightly - the God of War and Bloodshed could swear he could see cracks beginning to form beneath his grip.

Ares had grown used to this side of his father over the last few centuries. But this was the first he’d ever seen it directed to Athena. And that fact, alone, terrified him the most.

“I’ve played your game and won. Release him!”

“You dare…”

Ares could only watch as Athena stiffened immediately. The vicious rasp that left their father’s throat sent an uncomfortably familiar chill down his spine. The clouds above were turning grey, then pitch black. With growing fury, her father glared down at her, blue eyes seeming brighter than ever before as he rose from his throne.

“After what I’ve done for you, child… you dare to connect my name with the indignity, the very shame of such misdeeds?!”

Ares’s heart felt as if it plummeted into his stomach. Instinctively, he reached for his xiphos. Both the hands of Aphrodite and Hephaestus held his hand in place. 

“Not one being here, NOT EVEN YOU, is exempt from such blasphemy! I’ve allowed you your fancies and moments of grace, but no more. It’s high time you learned your lesson, Athena Promachos!”

Bringing one hand upwards, a lightning bolt zagged its way down from the sky above, resting firmly in the hands of their father. His eyes began to glow with an unnatural light, bright blue and brighter still until they shone like the stars in Ouranos’s sky, their gaze focused on the goddess who had even dared to slight his name.

“Father, please, wait! I meant nothing by-!”

“I, ALONE, RULE JUDGEMENT UPON ALL! ”  

With that, Zeus hurled down the bolt of lightning towards Athena. At once, she manifested the Aegis, hopeful it would mitigate the force of the blow. But Ares already knew what would come next.

Impact.  

The scream that tore free from Athena’s throat was… unnatural, to say the least. To describe it would shake even the most steadfast among the gods. Ares had never heard his sister in pain this deep, this horrific. Never once heard her cry out from any blow or cut landed upon her body. But this was no normal fight. Not even a duel. 

It was a reprimand.

Ares could hear the other gods react, could see them briefly out of the corners of his eyes. Aphrodite let out a choked sob of fear, Hera drawing in a breath as she turned away from the scene, tears already beginning to flood the eyes of both goddesses. Apollo instinctively moved to rush to Athena’s side, but Hephaestus gripped his forearm before he could leave the safety of the alcove. Hermes and Dionysus only stared on, their eyes wide in fear for what was the latest in a handful of times. Artemis only stood rooted to the ground where she was, but her hands were shaking.

All Ares could do was watch as the dust and debris began to settle. There was a noticeable crater in the center of the arena - deep enough for Ares to realize just how strong of a lightning bolt had struck Athena. She merely lay there, her body now marked with burn scars as several cuts had opened along her bare arms. Ichor flowed like rivers from her wounds.

Gods couldn’t die. Ares knew all too well. 

And yet, his sister lay unmoving on the floor of the arena, his father’s lightning still sparking violently through her body. His family stood by his side, but no one dared say the question aloud. So he made the choice to say what all in the arena thought.

“...is she dead?”

Athena could feel herself falling into an abyss. Her mind had acted to shield itself from the strike, but even as her feet made contact with the now-broken hourglass, the splintered wood grating against her sandals as the sounds of glass fragmenting and splintering apart filled her ears, she doubled over and clutched at her abdomen.

Agony. Fire and venom in her veins. Every sense of hers felt as if it was on fire, every nerve alight with flames. But this was worse than any wound she’d ever been dealt. She bit back every cry and scream of pain that threatened to spill out - even within her own realm, she could not yield to this weakness, this fault of hers. And yet, the truth of this injury stung at her heart more, brought tears to her eyes in ways it never had before.

Zeus had done this to her. Her own father had done this to her!

As if sensing her distress, the sands in the hourglass rose and began to coalesce and swirl around her. Unlike before, the colors of memory were muted, muddled together. But still Athena fought through the pain, searching for some moment to escape to. She didn’t care which, but just any one that would distract her, even for a moment, from this pain!

And just as quickly as she wished it gone, the pain had subsided. Opening her eyes again, Athena noticed that the hourglass beneath her was now gone, stone firmly beneath her knees and hands The sounds of the sea were not far from her ears, of the wind idly brushing through the branches nearby. She didn’t even have to scan her surroundings to realize the memory she had fallen into.

Back in Ithaca again. But when?

A baby’s cry pierced the air, and Athena felt herself walking on autopilot. Reliving a memory she participated in was often strange - her mind was her own, yet her body often acted separately. As she rounded a corner, the goddess could see Odysseus quietly pacing back and forth in front of the door to his chambers.

“Odysseus? Is everything alright?”

Athena felt her voice acting of her own accord - she despised being a passenger to her own memories on occasion, could not control her words or her actions. But she would allow this to play out - if not from a reprieve, then a way for her to best collect her senses. Odysseus snapped himself from his thoughts at the sound of his name, looking in surprise as his patron before the biggest grin graced his features.

“They’re more than all right, Athena! This is… it’s– damn it all, this is the best news that I can tell you!”

Odysseus took breath after breath to calm himself down. Time had taught him to deliver news as straightforward as possible to anyone of importance. Despite the steady way he looked Athena in her eyes, one foot restlessly tapped against the floor.

“Penelope’s had her child.”

Athena could feel her eyes widen. She had remembered that Penelope was expecting but now, it felt like ages since that brief moment of joy. And now, she wanted more than anything to return to those more carefree moments.

“What?! Is she all right? The child, are they-?!”

“He. His name is Telemachus, and he’s…”

Odysseus’s voice trailed off as he looked back to his chambers. The cries had softened a bit, and the strains of some old lullaby could be heard floating in the air, albeit sounding muffled through the door. As he turned to look at Athena, she could see the tracks of tears running down his face before disappearing into his beard.

“The greatest thing to happen to me yet… would you like to meet him?”

Athena could feel herself take a step back. She would have screamed at her past self, yelled at her for her reluctance.

“N-no, I’d rather not interfere, Odysseus. You can have your time with Penelope and Telemachus, but I’d rather not-!”

“Athena.”

She felt Odysseus grab onto her wrist, just enough to keep the goddess in place. The smile on his face widened, but his eyes remained as soft and kind as ever.

“I want you to meet him.”

Without another word from her, Odysseus led her towards the door, giving it a gentle knock before pushing it open. Athena drew in a quick breath as she saw Penelope resting in the bed she and her husband shared, the boughs of the olive tree framing her almost as well as the lines of a tapestry would. In her arms was an infant swaddled by cloth, a dark shadow on the top of his head already resembling the hair that would eventually grow in. The lullaby from Penelope’s lips came to a stop, the queen of Ithaca looking up to the goddess with a smile of relief.

“Athena Ageleia. How wonderful to see you after so long.”

“Penelope. I… I hope I’m not interrupting you or your… or Telemachus.”

Penelope gave a soft laugh, smiling down at the infant in her arms.

“Trust me, the visit is very much appreciated. This one’s been quite a handful for a while.”

Taking a seat close by the bed, Athena felt herself lean over as she peered down at the infant in Penelope’s arms. Even twenty years since that day, he seemed so… small compared to his mother. The infant briefly scrunched his face up as he tried to adjust himself within the folds of the blanket. The goddess glanced over to the queen, unsure what could be done around the infant. But still, Penelope smiled.

“It’s fine, my lady. I know you won’t hurt him.”

With that, Athena let her hand extend towards the infant. No gauntlets were on them for this visit - only the breastplate that she wore at almost all times was what she wore alongside her chiton. Time seemed to slow as she brought her hand closer to the infant. But what she hadn’t expected was a small gurgle from the infant before a hand poked out from the blankets.

“Tele, you little scoundrel. After all the time your mother spent-!”

Penelope’s gentle shush immediately cowed Odysseus to silence, the queen watching in wonder at the scene unfolding before her. Telemachus’s free hand gently grasped the air for a moment before latching suddenly onto Athena’s index finger.

Athena felt her heart lurch at that. The memory became more clear, far more vibrant than before as Athena continued to recall this day… along with another memory. For a moment, she could see Odysseus, spattered with the blood of his friend and allies, his eyes swimming with unshed tears as he yelled at her, his voice already breaking with the intensity of the moment.

I know what I’ve fought for, after all this time! What do you fight for besides recognition?!

Athena felt tears springing to her eyes as the infant Telemachus held on to her finger, a smile of satisfaction making its way onto her face. But these tears were not bitter, not born of sorrow or anger. Her heart felt lighter as her eyes turned to look first to the infant, to the mother who held him, and then to the memory of her friend. 

The smile on his face seemed to make the room a little bit brighter.

“...you. I fight for you all.”

The commotion in the gods’ alcove seemed to get louder and angrier still. Aphrodite and Artemis were both holding Ares back as he tried to break free and run into the arena. Damn his father’s wrath, that was his sister!

“DAMN YOU BOTH! If you cared for her as much as I, you’d be fighting him too!”

“Not now, love! It’s a miracle it was only the one that struck her. We can only hope that she… oh …”

Immediately Aphrodite let go of his arm as she walked to the edge of the alcove, hands on the balustrade as she saw movement in the arena. Rushing to his lover’s side, Ares watched in shock as Athena suddenly leapt to her feet. 

Ares nearly felt his feet give out from beneath him. Thank the Fates she was still alive! But still, his heart began to ache. Oh, how she had paid the price for her folly.

Now standing upright, ichor ran down Athena’s arms and face more freely. The lightning still coursed through her body, seeming to sink into her flesh. But his sister didn’t seem to care. Despite the occasional flash of pain and anguish across her face, she held firm.

In a soft flash of light, an owl took her place as she flew away from the center of the arena. Zeus’s teeth clenched in frustration as he summoned bolt after bolt to rain down onto the arena. The owl dodged the first, wheeled around the second, but the third made impact again.

Another screech of pain left the owl, but it was still airborne. Its flight pattern, however, was beginning to falter. Streams of gold on the feathers. Not a good sign.

Someone was screaming Athena’s name. Begging for her to stand down. Ares’s throat felt hoarse. Another strike, but the owl remained aloft.

The owl wheeled about in the sky, then dove straight towards Zeus with such a speed that Ares hadn’t seen before. Their father glared up at the incoming creature, manifesting a multi-pronged lightning bolt and winding his arm back as he prepared to strike. The owl suddenly arced down, racing a foot away from the marble before rocketing towards the God-King, aiming towards the center of his chest.

Another flash of soft light, and Athena was now on her feet again, running towards Zeus as he prepared himself to throw the bolt. But she bore no weapons. Her arms were spread out wide before they locked tightly around Zeus’s waist, face pressed against his chest. Her tears mixed with the ichor that leaked from the wounds in her face. 

And their father merely stood there. His arms hovered above Athena, not making a move to draw her into an embrace or push her away. His face was one of shock and disbelief - had he truly not expected this from his own daughter? The lightning bolt that had been clutched tight in his hand began to dissipate as he uncurled his fist, fading into the air above them. Athena only held on tighter still, holding her father as close to her as she could.

“Please… father… let him go…”

Finally, after what felt like hours, Zeus’s hands slowly came down to embrace his daughter. One hand rested on the small of her back, the other tenderly cradling the back of her head as the God-King held the Goddess of Wisdom close to his heart.

Ares finally sprung forth when he saw Athena’s knees begin to buckle, her arms around Zeus’s midsection loosening and then hanging uselessly at her sides. The goddess stood there for a moment before her knees finally gave out, beginning to collapse to the floor of the main hall. Still, Ares ran forward. Unlike the others, he could move just fast enough to catch her, keep her head from hitting the marble and letting more of her ichor spill. A simple invocation of his realm, and he would be–

But then he stopped himself just short of the throne. Others of the family met him where he stood, but none of them moved forward, none of them dared intervene.

All they could do was stand there as Zeus gently cradled his daughter in his arms.

Chapter Text

The silence in the main hall was endless. Almost the same as the world was before Chaos began to breathe life into it. Zeus still held Athena in his arms, the congregation of the other gods not that far away from them both. But no one dared make a move, no one would breathe a word.

The Lightning Wielder could only stare down at Athena. Her eyes were closed, but tears continued to flow outwards as she lay there in her arms. The ichor was flowing even more than it had been before, and it began to stain his hands and chiton, but he could hardly care now.

Free from the haze of his anger, he could now see his lightning reflected almost too perfectly in her skin. A bright golden line ran down the left side of her body, cutting almost perfectly through her eye as it wildly branched and splintered through her form. It split at her shoulder, one part running down her torso while the other ran down her arm. As if following the outline of her body, it continued to branch and split out along her arm before it finally ended at the very tips of her fingers.

Something twisted and horrible began to form within the depths of Zeus’s heart. No, his stomach. Perhaps both - whatever the case, he felt the guilt and shame grow more and more within him until the truth practically seemed to scream within his head.

He had done this . No matter what would happen from this point on, no matter how he would try to remedy this, he had chosen to harm his most favored child.

“Let him go!”

The King of the Gods' eyes widened at that. Athena’s lips hadn’t moved even once. Had he truly imagined his daughter’s voice sounding out in his head? Looking out towards the crowd, he scanned to look for the source before landing onto a nymph. Her hair was piled haphazardly onto her head, a wreath of wildflowers sitting on her brow.

“Let him go! Please!”

Her voice was the exact same tone and pitch as his daughter’s - of course it would be Echo that would parrot Athena’s words back to him. As if realizing the nymph had spoken, it was like a barrier had been broken - countless other voices began to take up the call. What seemed as a minute instance of begging turned into a flood of calls from the others in the hall.

“Please free the man, my lord!”

“Let him leave!”

“Send him home to Ithaca!”

“Your daughter’s paid the price!”

That call, above all else, tore into the God-King’s heart deeper than any wound. Looking up to the other gods, something curled within Zeus’s gut as he looked to the faces that were calling for aid on his daughter’s behalf… he could not stand for this scrutiny. The anger bubbled up in his heart at their indignance, but he would temper it before it was loosed upon the world yet again.

And then his gaze settled on his family. Some of them stared at him in fear, others in disappointment. The looks of Ares and Hephaestus both seemed to wound him worse than before. Their eyes were full of fury - even Ares’s hands shook as he instinctively grasped towards an empty scabbard.

But Zeus’s heart lurched as Hera glared down at him. He had seen this look on her face countless times before - any time he had a dalliance with some mortal or some nymph, she had looked down on him in disdain and hatred. But this time, the look she gave him hurt the most out of them all.

A quick snap of his fingers, and the crowd within the hall had vanished. Each one of them had been spirited back to their domains. Only he and the other Olympians remained.

“...Hermes.”

At once, the messenger god flew forward from the group, stopping mere feet from his father. The wings upon his sandals seemed to work overtime as he hovered before the king. His gaze flickered several times to the goddess still cradled in the king’s arms, but there was no visible reaction on his part. But… was that fear in his eyes, as well?

“Yes, dear God-King?”

“Go to Ogygia. Odysseus of Ithaca must be freed in a full day’s time. If Calypso does not abide by this, I will grant Poseidon permission to do as he wishes to that island.”

Hermes winced at the thought of his uncle's rage, hesitating before giving a bow of his head in Zeus’s direction.

“...as you command.”

With that, he was gone from sight. Standing upright, he carefully held Athena in his arms, cradling her head within the crook of his arm. Her eyes briefly twitched behind her eyelids as she was lifted from her place on the ground. Relief flooded his very being - he had not done the truly unthinkable, thank the Fates.

Wordlessly glancing to the congregation of gods, he stepped towards them. Several of them flinched as he approached, but Ares and Hephaestus stood shoulder to shoulder. A wall of defense from him, but he didn’t care for it. He looked over Hephaestus’s shoulder, watching Apollo with a careful eye. For a moment, Apollo flinched back at the recognition before a steadying hand from Artemis helped him stand a little straighter.

“...take her. See to her, and make sure she… that she’s all right.”

Ares wordlessly took Athena from the hands from her father, immediately turning on his heel as he walked away with Athena in tow. Her hand was limp at her side, ichor still dripping off it as drops of the substance began to fall to the floor. Before more could be lost, Apollo took the hand in his own as he walked with his siblings, a gentle glow beginning to emanate from his hands. The rest of the family followed close behind, some of them whispering words of comfort to their sister, others fretting about Apollo as they continued to walk away.

Although they were all far enough away, Zeus swore he could hear his daughter begin to whimper and softly cry out from the pain. And that only seemed to tear at his heart more. She had never had the chance to grow like the others, but in that instance, she looked too much like a child that was enduring a nightmare.

A nightmare cast by his hand. He sat himself down onto the steps leading up to his throne - after all that had transpired, he couldn’t even imagine sitting up there now. He was unworthy of it.

But a clearing of the throat made him realize he wasn’t yet alone. Glancing up, he watched Hera glare at him from where she stood. A whirlwind of emotions seemed to flood her face. Rage, disbelief, sorrow, too many to count even now. Zeus glanced down towards his feet - something felt as if it was weighing his head and shoulders down, and he would not dare to fight it.

“I can’t believe you. Out of everything you have done to this family, you chose to…”

He couldn’t hear her. Or rather, wouldn’t - it was all a blur to him. Glancing down to his hands, the ichor from his daughter’s wounds was already beginning to dry. All at once, he was reminded of every fight he’d ever had with those in his family.

Then his mind returned to the very first.

His sisters, begging and pleading to some unseen figure as rumbling steps like an earthquake grew ever closer–

“...forced myself to stand idly by and allow you to have your… ‘fun’ where you could for centuries, but to do this? And to your own daughter?! I have more than half a mind to…”

His brother crying out, a set of teeth grinding into flesh and bone–

“...hurting her, and for what?! The sake of some damned mortal! You could have let him go without all of these conditions, and nothing would have…”

His mother, tears in her eyes as she tried her best to smile while whispering sorrowful reassurances to him. A nymph holding him with a kind tenderness as a massive stone was being wrapped in a blanket–

“ARE YOU EVEN LISTENING TO ME, YOU BASTARD?!”

Hera’s hand found purchase under his chin, forcing him to look up into eyes full of fury and hatred. Her lip was curled into a snarl, eyes narrowing as she searched for… something in his face.

But his face was vacant, eyes wide as a single question began to sound in his mind.

“Why did I do that to her?”

Hera’s face nearly drew a blank at that question. As if shoved away by the very words he’d spoken, she took a step back, her hand falling back to her side.

“She was my daughter. Mine. I’ve cared for that girl more than anything, and I…”

Zeus glanced down to his hands again, squeezing his eyes shut as he tried to calm himself down. He would not unravel, would not show weakness in front of Hera. But for a moment, fear seized his heart as he began to think over what he thought would never be a truth he’d have to face. There had only been one other he’d known that could be just as cruel, if not more so. The thought alone made his stomach churn, but there was no denying what Zeus believed to now be the truth.

“...I’m becoming just like him.”

He could hear Hera take another step back at the thought of it. Good, all the better for her - keep away from him, shield herself. He was a threat to all, he began to realize. To his kin, his children, his wife… the list only continued to grow in his mind. But Hera’s voice broke through his roaring thoughts.

“No! You couldn’t ever be as cruel as he was.”

A lie.

“He was a monster, but you’ve–”

“I’ve given into my anger more than once, Hera. With you, our sons, my other children… and now with her .”

Hera was silent. And that frightened Zeus the most. He had grown so used to her outbursts of rage, her wails of sorrow at his misdeeds, his faults, but the silence was a first that shook him to his very core.

A rustle of cloth, and Hera sat next to him on the step, watching Zeus with a look of caution and curiosity. He remembered all too well the last time the gods of Olympus had chosen to rise up against him. And even she and Athena had been architects to his undoing at one time. His wife’s hands fidgeted, twitching in her lap as she fought the urge to reach out towards him.

“What pushed you to do it?”

Zeus took a steadying breath as he thought over the arguments that had been used by his daughter against each god. Promises of bloodshed, virtues of caution, those were all fine by him. But the last argument his daughter used had somehow burrowed itself beneath his flesh before lodging itself deep within his heart.

“That mortal’s faithfulness. Hearing that he resisted the advances of those two… I could only imagine how it hurt you. And I… I only now realize how it hurt me.”

He scoffed to himself, absentmindedly running a hand through his hair. It was a shit excuse, this much he knew, and yet it was the truth. The vows of matrimony and loyalty were ones that most mortals would obey until Atropos would cut their thread. But he had consorted with gods and nymphs alike. Blatantly and flagrantly. Even the mortals knew of his numerous endeavors, the countless forms he’d taken in his pursuits. Who was he to grow angry at what the world already knew?

“I don’t even know if that’s what I believe in, myself. Everything about it was-”

Hera placed a hand on his arm, stopping him from continuing on. Their eyes met, his gaze of confusion meeting hers of… what was it now? Regret? Disappointment?

“You have… done so much for this family. Far more than others dare to realize. But fear cannot, and should not, be all that you rule with any longer. This family has suffered enough because of your… judgements. Your punishments.”

Hera took a shaky breath.

“I had always hoped that there was some small part of you that knew this, that would vow to do better for our family. But to do this? After all you’d done to Metis, you chose to bring that same cruelty upon her daughter? She did not deserve that, Zeus, and you know it.”

Zeus wanted to turn away from his wife, spirit himself away back down to the earth below. But, damn it all, she was right. She only was one of the few on Olympus who would dare say it to his face. Before, he would have yelled at her for the insult, would have found some way to irritate her for her bold statements. But now, he just felt tired.

“This family has always been… difficult. We’ve always had our conflicts with one another. You and I, Hades and Demeter, even Poseidon and-”

She almost said her name. Hera pursed her lips tight as she fell silent, not daring to say the name again. It wouldn’t have upset Zeus, true, but the current situation did not feel like the name should’ve been tossed about so carelessly. It had been spoken in reverence by countless mortals below, but to have it spoken now between them so casually felt… improper.

“I will make it right with her. With you. With them all… somehow.”

Hera kept her silence as she listened to his promise. Doubt flooded the goddess’s mind, settling into her senses. Was he truly being genuine this time, or was it yet another ruse? Some backhanded promise he would claim to her just as he’d done for his countless affairs? Hera wasn’t sure, even now. Everything within her body was screaming at her, begging her not to fall for it again. And yet, the way he held himself now was so different. From a proud, boisterous god to one who seemed to carry shame for the first time in eons… it was almost unnatural to witness.

“If you truly mean to do so… then I will be there to help you when I can. If you will allow me to do so.”

“...Of course.”

Hera leaned forward, hesitating for a minute before pressing a quick and chaste kiss to his temple. Zeus did not pursue it, did not follow it with a kiss of his own. This was not the moment. It would not be for quite some time.

The two only sat there in silence, the expanse of the hall laid out before them both. It almost felt peaceful. Free from the anger, the petty rivalries, the feuds… but for how long? Within the week, or even the following day, the family would once again be at each other’s throats. Or, more specifically, his own.

And he would not fight it, would not put up any resistance to their barbs. He’d done harm upon harm to his family and has only suffered the most minor of consequences, the most fanciful of punishments. But now, he felt… changed. Almost. Something within his heart and head had settled deep within the core of his very being. Whether it would be a benefit or burden, he couldn’t quite tell.

But then there was something. A voice, quietly whispering in the back of his mind. Gentle, sincere… one he hadn’t heard for ages. But yet, he listened as it spoke in the back of his mind. Zeus almost waved it aside for the briefest of moments until one thought stuck. Bounced about in his head until he finally spoke the words out loud.

“...she’ll recover from this.”

Hera looked at him yet again, a mask of worry settling onto her face.

“You’re sure about that?”

A nod was all he could muster, reaching an arm towards her before hesitating once again, letting it rest on his lap. Hera looked at the hand as it went back to its resting place, her head in a slight tilt as she tried to register what he’d almost done.

“I’ve… I know what my lightning can do to other gods. But she's my own blood - there’s no doubt she’ll survive.”

Hera watched him for far too long. He grew uncomfortable under her gaze. But then she leaned against his shoulder, taking hold of his wrist, her thumb gently rubbing against the flesh there.

Zeus’s heart nearly broke, then began to grow warm within his chest. She was really willing to stand by him after all of this? She was… too good for him. He did not deserve her sympathy, her kindness. And yet, here she still was.

“For all of our sakes, I hope you’re right.”

…Here they both were.

Chapter Text

Hermes could feel the wings of his sandals beating overtime as he flitted towards the island.

To release Odysseus from Ogygia, that much he understood. But to simply leave him to find his way back home?! Unheard of! And worse, still, was what would happen next.

While yes, Odysseus would be free to return to Ithaca, the threat of his uncle was too much to simply ignore.

Not to mention the price that had been paid for his freedom. His heart lurched at the memory of seeing Athena lying in their father’s arms, the ichor flowing from her in a near-endless stream. Her scream still rang in his head. He could only hope the rest of his family would be ready to support their sister at any given moment. But as much as he wished to be there and aid in Athena’s recovery, being a god often overrode the responsibility of being a sibling. 

Even more so, there was yet another issue with one of his relatives. The minute that his great-grandson’s presence was sensed on those waters, the God of Tides would be on him faster than a hawk would catch a hare. And then the true pain and horror of divine retribution would begin for the King of Ithaca.

As the messenger’s feet touched on the sturdy ground of Aeolia, though, he already had a plan forming in his mind. If everything went to plan as he’d hoped, there was perhaps some sort of bargaining chip that could be used in that moment to aid Odysseus.

Whether it was a good plan or not, however, was still up for debate.

“Aeolus?! Are you here? I could use your aid in something desperately important!”

At once, Hermes felt something grab onto his leg. Glancing down, he watched one of the small grey creatures - an inhabitant of the island - glance up to him with an all too bright smile as it chattered out a welcome. Then another latched onto his right shoulder. One onto his head. Then two more. Four more? Five?!

The chittering grew louder and louder as more of the creatures began to embrace various parts of his body. It would have been adorable if he wasn’t the recipient. He struggled to fly away from the creatures, but their collective weight kept him relatively grounded which was such a lovely experience for one who was often so airborne.

“No, no! I appreciate the affection, but this is NOT the time for you all to be so lovey-dovey with me! Could you all just-?!”

“Hermes?”

He couldn’t help but chuckle in relief at hearing the Wind God’s voice. As quickly as they had attached themselves to him, the inhabitants of the wind isle fell away in an instant as Aeolus approached. Tucking a stray lock of hair behind their ear, the Wind God hovered there as Hermes beamed in amusement.

“Thank goodness you’re here! I require your aid in something massive. And you are, quite frankly, the only god I’m comfortable speaking with at the moment.”

Aeolus tilted their head for a moment in confusion, but then paused as realization slowly began to settle into their features.

“Yeah. I was… I saw the ‘game’ Zeus tried to play.”

The sound of the wind was all that broke the silence. A coo or two of sympathy from the creatures were carried along the gentle breeze of the island. Hermes shook himself out of his thoughts immediately, clearing his throat to get Aeolus’s attention.

“Anyways, what you may not know that my fa– “

No. It didn’t feel right on his tongue just yet.

“The God-King has charged me to instruct Calypso to grant Odysseus his freedom. And, as much as I’d love to go to Ogygia right away-”

Even now, the wings of his sandals were already itching to hurry to the island already. But he had to remind himself of why he was here.

“There’s still a god out there who’d love to settle their personal score with Odysseus.”

“And with the rest of the Olympians busy with… that , you came to me for help.”

Aeolus’s head tilted downwards as they went deep into thought, their hair tumbling over one side of their face, falling silent for only a second before they broke out into an eager smile.

“Sounds good enough to me! So, how do you plan to help him?"

That was… disturbingly too easy. Hermes couldn’t help but think it over for a moment or two but already, his head was beginning to hurt at the very idea of it all.

“You actually want to help Odysseus? Forgive me, Aeolus, but… why , exactly, are you so interested in him?”

“Because he’s fun! Way more fun than I’ve seen any mortal be. He played my game as best as he could and, even though his men messed things up in the end, I have to commend him for making it that far!”

The grey creatures chirped and nodded in agreement. Hermes could hear a few of them chattering among themselves, the words “Weird”, “Funny guy”, and “Silly” escaping their mouths.

He’d certainly have to ask Aeolus later how they’d been taught to speak.

“Regardless, it’ll be quite a difficult plan. You’re certain you want to help me?”

“Hermes, I’m practically stuck here on Aeolia, just making breezes ! I get bored so easily! I need a challenge!”

Hermes let an eyebrow raise in slight surprise at the Wind God’s admission. For a god to help out of boredom was not a common excuse, but Hermes would not take it at face value.

“Fine. I’ve got something planned, but you may not like what we’ll have to do next…”

Even from feet above its surface, the ocean was an intimidating beast.

The wings on his sandals continued to beat relentlessly as he looked off towards the shore. He could see figures dotting the sandy beaches of this peculiar land. Some were dancing, others laying carelessly on carpets and pillows.

But one figure stood at least a foot or two above all the others. Though he did not carry his signature weapon, Hermes felt a sense of dread at seeing his uncle so happy, knowing that it would all come crashing down in a moment. And, unlike the countless other times, Hermes would be the sole reason for it.

He could sense Aeolus’s presence lurking in the distance. He had already discussed the plan with them ten times over, but there was still that lurking sense of dread that had settled within both of their hearts. But both of them had agreed to do this and, much to his chagrin, Hermes couldn’t exactly back out of it now.

Taking the deepest breath he could muster, he allowed a mischievous smile to break onto his face as he called out to the shore.

“Uncle! Would you mind your dear nephew paying you a visit?”

The figure flinched for a moment, then shifted where it stood. Turning back to the celebrating congregation, there was a distant outcry from the attendees. No doubt, in protest of the god’s brief departure. After a minute or two, Hermes watched the figure walk towards the shoreline, effortlessly diving into the water. It wasn’t long before the God of Tides rose up besides, pushing waterlogged hair away from his eyes as he stood far too easily on the surface of the water. The waves lapped at his feet, but held him aloft.

“Hermes. What business do you have with me?”

“Oh, can’t a relative just drop in on occasion to check in on their dearest, most fond of uncles? I’m merely surprised you’d be out here partying like it was the end of our age.”

Poseidon’s jaw clenched. Hermes’s uncle was all too notorious for his temper, but hearing and witnessing it were two very different realities. But still, the Messenger God was surprised when he watched his uncle take a deep long breath in before slowly exhaling it through his mouth.

“It’s called ‘respecting your worshippers’, Hermes. These folk have gone through a great deal to honor me - it’s only fair I graced them with my presence. And they expect me back, so I can’t afford myself the… courtesy of spending time with you.”

Hermes’s smile lessened, but only barely. He didn’t want the mortals to witness his uncle’s rage, to sour their opinions of him, but… the next part of his plan had to be put in motion.

“Of course, dearest uncle of mine. I just thought that you would be more interested in looking for a certain someone. A king, as a matter of fact.”

The slightest twitch of the head made it clear that Poseidon was listening very carefully for what words came from his nephew next.

“Yes, I know very well which king you’re speaking of. But I cannot constantly focus on him and neglect those who honor me. It is not becoming of a god, as you should damn well know.”

Hermes was already bracing for the inevitable, but he could not let suspicion grow within the Sea God. Idly cleaning his fingernails on the fabric of his chiton, he looked over the Poseidon with a casual glance. He had to maintain appearances, not let his uncle even suspect what he had planned.

“Oh, no, of course I understand. But for a god of the sea, though, you do seem to be quite lacking in what resides on your waters. Quite a poor reflection, if you ask me.”

It was as if a shock of lightning had run through Poseidon’s body. The grip on his trident tightened, his knuckles actually changing color from the intensity of his grip. As if matching the Sea God’s mood, the skies above began to darken and gather above them both.

“...What? ”

“But I understand that your mind can be so… scatterbrained. So much sea, not enough brain power. After all, why else would you’ve let that Odysseus fellow get away so easily? Surely not because of your own… shortcomings.”

“Hermes!”

At that, the messenger god flew back, but felt his ankle caught in Poseidon’s hand. It was only for a moment before his uncle dropped his hold, and yet… he’d managed to be caught. Not good. 

Even more unsettling was the way his uncle’s demeanor had changed so easily. The blue of his eyes and darkened to a stormy grey almost instantly. The grip on his trident was nearly hard enough to break even the greatest of weapons forged by Hephaestus, his hand shaking with rage. The Sea God’s jaw clenched tight, and Hermes could swear he began to hear Poseidon’s teeth start to crack from the pressure. Even still, his uncle remained standing tall despite the facade of decorum finally starting to break.

“Speak one more time out of line… and I will be more than glad to remind you why the mortals both fear and respect me.”

Hermes swallowed nervously. No turning back now. Just one last little push.

“Yes, uncle. But, still, it must be quite a… burden to know that somewhere out there, that wretched King is bobbing about on the waters of your mighty domain. And you and I know very well that he would be laughing if he saw you now.”

The roar of anger that tore from his uncle’s throat would have shaken even Thanatos to his very core. Poseidon’s yells of rage were immediately drowned out by the howling winds that began to whip around them both. The ocean responded in kind, beginning to churn and roil as a response to the Sea God’s whims. And through it all, somehow, Hermes could still hear Poseidon raging on.

“I’ll tear that bastard apart! He’ll never return to Ithaca so long as he breathes! I swear on my son, that man will …!”

Poseidon's voice began to fade away into the howling winds and crashing waves as Hermes tried to make some distance between him and his uncle. In his bid to get away, he noticed that the shoreline Poseidon had come from was still left untouched, the waves still a good number of meters away from crashing onto the beach. Even the pristine blue sky above the land seemed to be such a sharp contrast to the storm above his own head.

So his uncle did have some sense of keeping the mortals safe - even Hermes was surprised at that.

“I have most of them! Get out of there, quickly!”

The voice had carried quickly on the wind, and it was gone just as fast. Wasting no time, his sandals immediately sped him away from the seas below, narrowly dodging one rather intimidating wave as it nearly crashed down onto him.

It would take quite some time for his uncle to calm down, but Hermes would not allow himself to be the focus of his rage and fury.

“I am NEVER going to work with you on something that… ridiculous again!”

The Wind God angrily stared at Hermes, their arms and lap currently swaddled with a number of the grey creatures. They were so numerous it almost appeared as if Aeolus had swaddled themselves in the pelt of some lumpy gray creature. Each one of the creatures were gently patting whatever parts of Aeolus they had glommed onto, chittering out what sounded like small words of comfort and occasionally shooting Hermes a dirty look every now and then.

Hermes sighed from where he sat, keeping a fair enough distance as he looked at the bag that sat between them both. It was holding itself together quite well, but the storms within it were frantically jabbing against the material of the bag, yearning to break free. But that was good - storms of this caliber frequently took a lot of energy out of this uncle. Some time could be bought, at the very least, until he could create the next one.

“It wasn’t my intention to get you so involved, but it was necessary. I’m not letting Odysseus leave Ogygia without some precautions.”

“Precautions?! I almost got tossed around in those winds, the same as you! If it wasn’t for me being a god, I would’ve-”

“Believe me, I know , Aeolus. But we can’t just sit aside and let that mortal suffer. Odysseus has gone through enough, if what Athena claimed is true.”

Without another second to waste, Hermes allowed the wings on his sandals to begin to work as he reached for the bag of winds. At his very touch, the winds seemed to grow more violent, more volatile - so they knew the partial source of their existence, then. Such a wonderful revelation for him to know, now of all times. 

As he drew close to Aeolus, though, the grey furballs attached to him seemed to bristle and allow their fur to puff out in response. Hermes held his free hand up, the wings on his sandals pulling him back a few feet. One of them seemed to hiss at him like a cat! The Wind God only held their ground - well, hovered would have been a more fitting word. Even looking at him through the mass of furred grey, the anger could be felt in waves. Hermes felt guilt unfurl in his heart, but he quickly quashed it down.

“I truly am sorry, though - I knew he’d get angry, but to that level was… unexpected, even for me.”

Aeolus only huffed, crossing their arms in front of their chest and glancing away. After a moment, though, their expression softened.

“Yeah, well… no one can predict Poseidon’s mood. Not even his wife. But-”

They turned to look at Hermes, their gaze slightly sympathetic. Only slightly - gods were fickle beings, at times. It would only be a matter of time before something else caught Aeolus’s amusement or ire.

“I… I hope Odysseus will be alright. He seemed fun, but…it’s no good when mortals get too sad.”

Hermes could only sigh, bringing the bag close to his chest.

“That’s all we can do, I fear. Hope's all many mortals seem to have, these days - it doesn't take much to apply that to us, as well.”

With that, the Messenger God flew off, already well aware of the path he’d take to Ogygia. He could only pray that the God-King wouldn’t change his mind on his way there.

Chapter Text

The wind bag was more of a nuisance than he realized back on Aeolia.

He had transported many messages and souls in his endless life, but a bag containing the storms his uncle manifested was certainly a first. He could feel the winds straining to break free from the confines of the bag, the currents of the wind endlessly trying to push against the material of the bag. On occasion, he could feel their pull briefly try to take him off course, but immediately the Messenger God would correct his path as he flew onward to the island that now grew closer with every wing beat.

Stowing the wind bag away in his satchel - and hiding a wince as he could hear it bump against countless other items within its depths - he let the sandals continue to drive him towards Ogygia’s shores. But he would not touch down on the island, would not even dare to set foot onto the sand.

As he flew toward the abode of Calypso, he could hear something else on the wind. Apart from the rushing sounds of fresh water and the chirping of birds that called the island their home, there was a new noise, one that wasn’t so native to the land.

Crying.

Quietly, he flitted towards the sound, careful not to attract any attention to himself as he came closer to its source. Eventually, he could see who the sound emanated from.

But then sorrow, fury, and hate seized the Messenger God’s heart at the sight of it. 

Odysseus was sitting on the many rocks that dotted Ogygia’s shore, hunched over as he wept into his hands. The tears that escaped his hands fell, drop by drop, into the ocean below. He looked so different then when Hermes had first seen the king on Aeaea, strolling with defined purpose towards the palace of Circe. Now, Odysseus looked lost. Almost… empty.

A king without a kingdom. A father without a family. And the Messenger God felt his anger roil beneath his skin.

Calypso would pay dearly for what she had done to him.

It didn’t take long for Hermes to find the minor goddess - Ogygia only had so many places that she could hide. The distant humming he heard certainly alerted him to her presence and allowed his anger to rise yet again. To have her sounding so content while his great-grandson suffered?! The ichor that flowed through his veins was practically screaming for her comeuppance. But, for the sake of Odysseus, he would temper his rage. It was by his father’s own charge that he was even allowed to be here, and he wouldn’t dare squander his time now. 

Finally, Calypso came into sight and it took everything within Hermes’s power not to simply make her pay right then and there. The nonchalant smile on her face as she tended to a garden of vegetables made it clear to the Messenger God that she did not seem to even care a bit for Odysseus. His mind was already racing at what he could do to make her pay for what she’d done, but he had to to stop himself. Gods could only make others within their pantheon hurt for so long - at the very least, he could make her uncomfortable.

And he couldn’t help but feel the theatrical laugh he let out slip into a more natural one as he allowed Calypso to know of his presence. Her back stiffened, her form nearly shooting upright at the very sound of his laughter. But it was the syrupy-sweetness of the voice he used that made her turn to face him directly. Despite the initial shock, the goddess tried her best to maintain a look of indifference at the Messenger God’s presence.

“Why, Calypso, how have you been this fine day?”

“Hermes. Always a pest to everyone. What business do you have on my island?”

“Oh, but I don’t come as a pest, dear Calypso.” The affectionate term dripped off his tongue like venom from a snake’s fangs. “I come as a messenger for the King of the Gods. And the one I bear is one of excruciatingly high import. He has issued a decree. One that you are commanded to follow. And I think we both know all too well just who that decree involves.”

Calypso’s eyes widened as his own narrowed beneath his cap. She shook her head, turning to mind her business as she tended to the crops that grew on a rather fertile patch of land. After a minute or two of her, she huffed angrily and threw the basket she had in her arm onto the ground. She immediately turned and began to walk away from Hermes, her pace a little quicker than what was considered normal.

“Whatever that king of yours has proclaimed, I see no reason for me to follow it.”

“Oh, but you will if you wish to stay alive.”

In an instant, he flew to hover right in front of Calypso, arms crossed in front of his chest as he stared her down. Calypso’s eyes widened as she watched the god for a moment, a flash of fear running through her body. But he had her attention now - a threat on a goddess’s life by one of the greatest of them all was not to be ignored so willingly.

“By the order of my father, Zeus Olympios, you will release Odysseus from your island and provide him the means to leave this place before the day is out. If not, then the Earth-Shaker himself will come to send you and your precious Ogygia tumbling to the depths below.”

At that, Hermes leaned dangerously close to Calypso. True, the threat of Poseidon was one he fabricated, but his uncle's obsession of vengeance was one that was well known by all on Olympus. All signs of mirth and joy were gone from his face as he glared at the daughter of Atlas. The goddess’s eyes widened at the very sight - not many had seen what would transpire when Hermes got angry, and he preferred to keep the target of his ire in suspense until the moment finally arrived.

“Is that understood?”

Calypso opened her mouth several times to object, but her words seemed to fail her. The truth of the situation was so obvious to them both, and yet she simply had refused to believe what she already knew. After a moment or two, Calypso sighed in defeat, looking down to the earth beneath her feet.

“...will you let me say goodbye to him?”

“If you can make it brief. I’m certain, for your sake, that you will.”

Taking in a deep breath, Calypso began to walk away from her home, down towards the shore that the Messenger God had last seen Odysseus. Any other god would have called their business over and done with, would have gone on their way to tend to their other responsibilities.

But for the sake of his friend, Hermes would linger a while longer. He had to.

Flying up to the nearby trees, Hermes settled on a particularly strong branch as Calypso wandered towards the shoreline. Odysseus was still sitting on the beach, watching the waves briefly reach for him before pulling away. The sounds of footsteps on sand alerted Hermes to Calypso’s arrival.

She’d certainly taken her time in getting to him.

“...Odysseus? Someone’s arrived today.”

“Is that right? Are they doomed to rot here, just as I am?”

Calypso flinched for a moment at his words, how they stung her. Hermes couldn’t help the smile on his face at that.

“...no. They’re here to grant you your freedom. That before the day is out, I must bid my farewells to you and… let you go.”

At the very words, Odysseus leapt to his feet, looking at her in disbelief. His eyes seemed to briefly sparkle with hope, and yet he still seemed hesitant in his joy. He drew away from the goddess, taking a careful step back. He dared not allow his feet to touch the waves though - the fear of who lurked beneath its surface was still there, even after all of these years.

“...you’re lying to me.”

“I cannot lie about an order given to me by Zeus himself.”

The name shook the King of Ithaca to his core. The tension seemed to roll off of his shoulders in waves as the revelation seemed to sink into the very core of the mortal king. He was free to go.

Odysseus smiled to himself, exhaling a breath he didn’t even realize he’d been holding, seeming to breathe freely for the first time in years. That, alone, began to spark joy within Hermes’s heart once more.

Calypso only kept quiet as Odysseus took in the news before stepping forward. Her hands fidgeted at her sides, as if fighting the urge to rush forward and embrace the poor king once again.

“I only came before you left m… before you leave Ogygia to tell you that you are the only one I’ve ever known since my time here. And I am sorry if my love has-”

Odysseus brushed past her like she was nothing. For a second or two, Calypso merely stood there, seemingly in shock at his brusqueness. But still, she ran to stand in front of him, taking his hand in her own as she watched him. She looks panicked, frantic, almost like some unknown beast that’d been tricked into a cage.

“Please allow me to say my piece!”

Odysseus stared down at the goddess, then tugged his hand out of her hold. So effortlessly, this time - Calypso didn’t even try to hold on. Hermes knew Calypso would not be one to cross Zeus, of all the gods in Olympus. She had already drawn the ire of he and his sister - no need for her to invoke the wrath of another.

“...I won’t sit idly by and waste my time. Swear to me that you’ll allow me to prepare for my departure.”

Calypso bit her lip for a moment, then nodded in agreement. As Odysseus walked away from her, she began to speak. But still, the King of Ithaca did not seem to acknowledge her presence or even focus on her words as he walked away. Despite this, Calypso took a breath as she began to explain herself

“I have spent… my whole life here on this island. A hundred years of isolation, of not being able to leave its shores. All I’ve ever wanted was a companion to understand my years here, to be able to understand what I feel. When you ended up on Ogygia's shores, I was so certain that you would be the one I could…”

Hermes only watched Odysseus, allowing Calypso’s voice to become nothing but noise to his ears. He picked out the trees needed for his raft, carefully selecting the best materials to serve as twine and rope. All the while, Calypso would not stop talking. Her voice continued to drone on and on as she continued to speak.

And Odysseus continued to work, which impressed Hermes. He seemed to stand just a bit… taller than the last time he’d seen him. He worked with renewed purpose and, to the god’s eyes, a hidden strength - despite the wrinkles Odysseus had acquired, despite the grey in his hair, he held himself so strongly compared to how he seemed only moments before.

But still Calypso seemed to persist. Even as Odysseus built the raft, gathering the provisions he would need for his journey, she would continue to speak. Her apologies felt false, hollow to the Messenger God’s ears. An excuse for her actions, for her entrapment of the King of Ithaca.

“But despite our time, I'm not sorry for feeling how I did around you!”

Calypso was crying now, and Hermes was only growing more irritated at the sound. Solitude had its consequence on the goddess, yes, but to enforce her own guilt onto the mortal king was too far.

“I was so sure that what we had was true, what I felt for you was actually real. I cannot just let how I feel go so easily!”

Excuse after excuse left her mouth, and Hermes would not stand for it a moment longer. He was already fighting the urge to go out there and spirit Odysseus away himself.

“For once in my life, I need to be lied to! To be fooled! If some damned person could just up and tell me–!”

“I love you.”

Hermes nearly dropped his caduceus at that. Calypso wiped away her tears, her eyes sparkling with joy and hope as she looked at Odysseus. A shadow of a smile could be seen slowly making its way onto her face.

“…you do?”

But the look Odysseus gave her was not one of love, but pity. Carefully, his great-grandson took Calypso’s hands into his own, pressing them towards her chest with a strange tenderness. One that, perhaps, she didn’t deserve.

“But not as a lover. Not as a friend. Only because you’ve helped me to keep my life until this moment. That is all the love I could ever have for you, for all you’ve done for me... and all you've done to me.” 

Odysseus did not sound cruel to his captor, did not speak in hatred, but yet his words seemed to deal the greatest blow to the goddess. 

And that surprised Hermes most of all. He should have had the most rage and hatred towards Calypso, and yet… nothing. There didn’t seem to be any anger or malice in his eyes or face, but his words seemed to make up for it. Hermes was certainly perplexed, but he would not let the question linger in his mind for any longer than it had to.  

Calypso stepped back, watching with flooded eyes as Odysseus turned back to his raft. The tears spilled over as the goddess looked on, shaking her head as she watched him push away from the shores of Ogygia. She moved to reach out, to try and bring him back. But she knew a command by Zeus was not one to be taken lightly. Her hand, still outstretched, shook before it fell helplessly to her side.

“Damn you… damn you, Odysseus! Why? Why did I have to fall in love with someone like you?! HOW could I have fallen in love with one like you?!”

But Calypso’s voice wavered, turning into a soft litany of sobs as she collapsed to her knees. Tears continued to flow down her cheeks, falling into the sand as she watched Odysseus’s raft sail away towards the distant horizon. Before Hermes quietly followed behind in pursuit, he could hear Calypso call out one last question toward Odysseus.

“Why wouldn’t you simply love me?”

But the King of Ithaca did not look back as the raft crested over the swell of the waves.

Not even once.

Chapter Text

Hermes flew several feet above the surface of the ocean’s waves. At times, panic struck his heart as the swells gently rose and fell amongst them. On occasion, there would often be a particularly nasty one that would seem to rise up to try and snatch him from the air. At least his uncle was… relatively aware of what was going on about his waters.

But he was already within earshot of the raft that floated on the waves. And already, he could hear the King of Ithaca softly muttering to himself. Quietly and carefully, Hermes allowed himself to sit on the ‘mast’ of the raft as he listened in to Odysseus’s quiet speech to himself, carefully adjusting the ropes to keep the body of the raft well put together.

“So many men gone, and by whose hand? None but your own. And now, what do you have to show for it? Just some flimsy raft that’s barely seaworthy. How in Tartarus can I even get home now?”

The messenger god winced as he listened to the king ramble. He’d been through too much since the two of them had last met with one another. But now, like before, he would do his part to aid in this soul’s journey. Only this time, it would truly be a journey home. 

A sound of a clearing throat announced his presence.

“I take a bag of wind won’t exactly be of much help to you, would it?”

Odysseus leapt upright at the voice, immediately scanning his surroundings for any sight of the voice’s owner. Finally looking upwards, he shielded his eyes from the afternoon sun as he squinted up at the mast.

“Hermes?!”

Effortlessly, Hermes stepped off the mast, dropping to meet Odysseus at eye level. The wings on his sandals strained themselves to keep him from making impact with the floor of the raft, but he came to a stop several centimeters above the wood. The raft was still holding together very well, but even the slightest of forceful impacts could have very well destroyed the structure.

“Hello, old friend.”

At the sight of the god, Odysseus slowly felt himself break out into a smile. He almost seemed younger.

“You’re the someone Calypso mentioned?!”

At that, Hermes beamed before dipping into a deep bow.

“The one and only!”

The joy in Odysseus’s face was near infectious, smiling in similar intensity as the god’s. For a moment, the king of Ithaca stepped forward to embrace the god, but held himself back. The joy on his face held for the briefest second before it slowly melted away into confusion.

“Why, exactly, are you here?”

So, right to business then with him. Hermes cleared his throat and allowed his sandals to make contact with the wood below. Adjusting the strap of his satchel, he squared his shoulders as he watched his descendant for a moment.

“The God-King himself has granted you a chance to return home, free from the clutches of Ogygia. But you must not use caution this time - the Fates have been fickle, as of late, and no doubt their eyes have been set on this raft to watch how you’ll fare.”

Strolling idly to the edge of the water, he briefly peered into its depths, his eyes flitting from one to spot to the other as he searched. No sign of Poseidon, just yet - good enough for him. Spinning on a heel, he turned to look at Odysseus once again.

“But I know you all too well, dear friend - you’ve played games with Fate, time and time again, and you’ve managed to get away every time! But this time, the game has far more to it than you might think - play your cards right, as I say you should, and you’ll return home in a moment.”

Odysseus glanced down to the supplies on his boat, then back up to the messenger god. Relief was briefly seen on his face before it bled into confusion, then anger. And as much as Hermes expected it, it still hurt to witness such a negative emotion, especially compared to the joy that'd been on Odysseus's face all those years ago on Aeaea.

“Well, why did you wait so long to reveal yourself to me? You know what’s at stake for Ithaca, for my family! How could you just wait to say it now, out of all times?!”

Despite the king’s anger, Hermes did not lash out, did not act in retaliation. Instead, he doffed his cap with ease, holding it by his side as he looked at Odysseus. Gone was the mirth and joy, in its place an unusual seriousness for the god to bear that was only ever seen when he was playing the role of the psychopomp.

“Because my uncle’s still out there, Odysseus. For years, he’s searched for you, desperately hungering for your blood to be spilt. You should not, and cannot, play safe for this journey - you must risk it all or you’ll risk your life in the process.”

As if sensing his warning, the windbag shifted in his satchel. But he could not reveal it to Odysseus, not just yet. He’d remembered in hearing from Aeolus how the king had failed in the Wind God’s little “game”, and he would not let that moment happen again.

“Besides…”

The Messenger God clapped a hand onto Odysseus’s shoulder, offering him a wry smile.

“It never hurts to be dangerous at times, don’t you think?”

The night sky slowly began to wheel overhead. Hermes watched the slumbering king, keeping a careful eye on the horizon for any unwanted dangers. 

Harpies, hippocampi, and all manner of beasts had come upon them, and Odysseus had done his best to ward them off without the god's assistance. But none of the creatures had come at the behest of Poseidon - at least, that is what Hermes hoped. One wrong misstep, one faulty move on the King’s part, and any one of those beasts could have wrecked the raft. And a nearby splash nearly warranted his attention.

He could see… something bobbing not far from where he stood on the raft. A head sitting on a pair of shoulders, her dark hair plastered to her skin, which was an unnatural pallor of tealish-grey. A siren. Her eyes narrowed as she swam towards the small craft. Leaning onto his caduceus, Hermes offered a tiny smile to the being as it drew closer to the raft. Odysseus was nearly within arm’s reach of her, but she kept her eyes on the divine being that seemed to keep watch.

“If you’re smart, you’ll swim away now.”

“Gods shouldn’t interfere. Leave me to my meal.”

The siren’s voice came out in a rough rasping sound, far from the songs she would croon to unfortunate travelers. But Hermes knew all too well how to drive her off.

“Does the name Odysseus ring a bell?”

At the sound of the name, the siren’s eyes widened in fear before she swam back.

“That one… that pathetic morsel is the one who-?!”

Hermes leaned in close to the siren, the smirk on his face only widening.

“The very same mortal. And just think - if he managed to bring harm to an entire pod with his crew, imagine the harm he could bring to you simply on his own.”

The siren’s expression shifted to one of absolute terror and just as quickly as she had appeared, she dove away, disappearing beneath the waves in a flash of fin and scales. So the stories he’d heard whispered in the halls of Olympus did bear some truth. As always, Apollo seemed to overexaggerate in his stories, but to hear that Odysseus was the one to kill a pod of sirens with his crew was surprising, to say the least. But ten years of war could do a great deal to change a man.

On the raft, Odysseus briefly flinched in his sleep before seeming to sink further against the wood. Hermes moved to sit by his side, watching as Selene’s chariot made its normal routine. As it slowly began to grow closer towards the horizon, Hermes cast his eyes skyward, examining the stars set above him for a moment. He could see the constellations of Perseus, of Andromeda, but where was-? 

There! The Messenger God let his caduceus dissipate in his hand before carefully shaking Odysseus’s shoulder.

“Odysseus? Odysseus, you have to wake up.”

The mortal groaned in protest, but Hermes only continued to shake at his shoulder. Finally, Odysseus unsteadily sat himself up, looking to the messenger god with a look that screamed irritation.

“Hermes, this was the only good rest I’ve had in ages.”

“I know, but I’ve stayed with you for as long as I can. My duties will be calling me elsewhere shortly enough.”

That certainly woke Odysseus up. And already, it was like the light slowly began to fade from his eyes. His age seemed to show itself in the way he held his face and posture.

“… you can’t help me any further?”

A shake of the Messenger God’s head.

“The God-King has been… he’s not been in the best of moods. At this moment, not one of us feels like we can cross a line. I was only meant to send word to Calypso of my father’s demands - I’ve already tempted punishment enough by staying here longer than I should. But I can offer you advice. If you’re willing to listen to it, of course.”

At the mortal’s quick nod, Hermes raised a hand and pointed upwards towards one bright shining spot in the sky. As Odysseus rubbed sleep away from his eyes, he followed the path Hermes’ finger led to.

“If ever you fear losing your way, row yourself in the direction of that star there. You, of all people, should know what that star is.”

The King of Ithaca squinted for the briefest of moments, his eyes adjusting to the darkness of the world before they shone in recognition.

“Aei phanes… did you know that was the one name I always struggled to remember in my studies?”

Hermes bit back a laugh at that. “I can imagine why. Doesn’t exactly flow from the tongue so easily, does it?”

Odysseus chuckled in return, shaking his head as Hermes continued on.

“But I know the route from Ogygia to Ithaca - that star shall be your guiding light, the one which shall always point you to home from here. Never lose sight of it, never lose track, and you’ll be back in your kingdom in time.”

As Odysseus unsteadily got to his feet, the uncertainty within Hermes’s heart continued to grow. He knew what he would have to deliver next, and he certainly wasn’t going to like it.

“There is… one last thing, however.”

Hermes sighed to himself. This would be the moment that could test Odysseus’s mettle, and the Messenger God was hesitant to see how he’d react. Carefully reaching into his satchel, he gripped the windbag tightly in his hands as he fished it carefully out.

Odysseus’s eyes went wide. Already not a good sign. As if sensing the mortal’s fear, the bag began to struggle and shake, the winds within practically straining the material they were being held captive inside. The god and mortal locked eyes briefly.

“You’re aware of what’s inside this bag?”

Odysseus stared at the bag for too long of a time before finding his voice again. It sounded frail this time, as if all the energy had been stolen from his very being at the sight of a source of his greatest misfortune.

“Wh… how did you manage to bring it here?”

“It’s not the same bag, old friend. Aeolus and I both worked to capture the storm inside. And this one is… far more violent than the one Aeolus caught prior. All of my uncle’s rage and hatred from you is within this storm.”

As if to prove his point, Hermes briefly moved the bag away from himself and towards Odysseus. As if it was sensing the mortal again, the bag began to writhe even more wildly. Odysseus stepped away, instinctively raising an arm up to protect himself. At that, Hermes held up a hand in reassurance

“But the bag is sealed tight - no sword or claw can pierce it. Only by opening this bag will they be unleashed, and even then… it’ll be impossible for any mortal to pass through it unscathed.”

Despite being a god, he could not shake the worry from his mind.

“If you choose to open that bag, for whatever reason, whatever it may be, I fear that you will never be able to return home.”

The King of Ithaca fell silent, only staring down at the bag as the messenger god set it down by his raft. There was no visible reaction, no movement from him to react. The silence between the two of them was near immeasurable until Odysseus spoke again.

“…did you honestly think something like that would stop me from even trying?”

The smile on Hermes’s face was wider than he’d ever had before. Odysseus grabbed for the sword he wore again at his hilt - Calypso hadn’t kept it from him, thank goodness - and gripped it tightly, unsheathing it only slightly before smirking at the light that caught onto the blade. Staring down at his reflection within the gleam of the metal, he re-sheathed his sword as he looked to Hermes, offering the Messenger God a proud smile.

“I’ve faced monsters and gods, and I’ve still managed to endure in spite of it all. A storm of storms won’t keep me from my home and family. I will not be played for a fool by anyone ever again.”

Hermes couldn’t help but let out a small laugh of joy. There was that same man he’d seen marching toward Circe’s palace - for a brief shining moment, the king of Ithaca had somehow returned in all his glory. 

But what he hadn’t expected was to be hugged by Odysseus. It had happened far too quickly, and yet it felt as if there was some small part of Hermes that would’ve allowed it. He was a god, true, but to a soul like Odysseus’s still shine despite all of his tragedy was very few and far between. The mortal’s hands clasped briefly at the god’s back as Hermes allowed himself to return the embrace for the briefest of moments. As Odysseus stepped back, there was the briefest of moments where neither god nor man stood on that raft. They were simply two beings, simply left to stand there in a moment of perseverance.

“Hermes. I never truly had the chance before, but… thank you. For this, and for helping me with Circe. I promise I’ll offer some great tribute in your name once I get home.”

Out of all the instances before, the smile he gave to his great-grandson was one of genuine affection.

“Oh, there’s no need to thank me, friend. After all, I’m not the one who fought for you!”

“Then who?”

Hermes's face turned into one of pure shock and regret as he immediately realized his mistake, but did not move to fix it. He would not dare reveal the truth of how Odysseus’s freedom was one - that was only news that could be delivered by one Olympian, and only one. And he would not dare to encroach on his sister’s territory, especially for news like that.

“Given your wit, you’ll figure it out soon enough. But as for me, there’s naught else I can do for you now except to say…”

Hermes placed a hand on Odysseus’s shoulder.

“Good luck.”

With that, he flitted away from the raft, offering one last sympathetic smile as he sped off back towards Olympus. After all, Odysseus’s greatest challenge was yet before him. And he was uncertain if any of their family would be allowed to intervene.

Not for something like what was to come.

Chapter Text

“FATHER!”

The God of Tides’s eyes widened at the call. The voice was deep, guttural, but he knew it all too well. His Charybdis, his daughter. But her voice was different. Tones of fury, yes, but also… pain?!

Panic seized his heart faster than ever before -  he had already had one child harmed, and he could not allow another one to fall victim to such humiliation! Wheeling the chariot about, he sped towards the location where his daughter lurked.

He hadn’t expected to see so much mayhem, however. His daughter was thrashing about wildly in the depths, her massively serpentine body creating currents of her own. Around her, debris from old boats and ships floated about in the water, the occasional human bone floating by in his presence. To see his own daughter so angry was unnerving, at the very least, and terribly concerning at most. Abandoning his chariot, he effortlessly went to his daughter’s side, listening as she continued to wail and roar in anger and frustration.

“That man… that damned man! He escaped me! I’ve failed you! I tried as best I could to capture him, but-!”

“Enough, dear.”

Gone was the grit and roughness of his voice. That was only reserved for the mortals who often irritated him with their very presence alone. Gently placing a hand onto his daughter’s side, he watched as the rumbling leviathan before him began to quiet in his presence. The thrashing lessened before finally stopping entirely.

“You’ve done all that you could. Rest now - I’ll see to it the job is done.”

“But, father, that man is-”

“Charybdis.”

At once, the gargantuan figure of his daughter stilled. A series of soft and gentle clicks began to emanate from her. She calmed down well enough, thankfully.

“I swear to you that I will take care of the mortal who hurt you. You know that I would.”

Without another word, Poseidon returned to his chariot, guiding his steeds as he followed the currents towards the source of his daughter’s disturbance. Which mortal was fool enough to upset one of his own kin? One name continued to rise up again and again in his mind, and yet the god could not be certain. Countless mortals had invoked his wrath, one so more than most, but to have him return now after all his years of searching was all too easy of a coincidence.

But the currents he followed guided him to some place awfully familiar. To a place he did not think he’d return to so easily. Ithaca. In the ten years since he’d encountered the fool king, he had lurked on occasion by the shores of his kingdom, watching his son and wife with a careful eye. Both were oblivious to the king’s misdeeds, and yet, Poseidon couldn’t help but wonder, could not help but think of a punishment that would involve the two. 

As Poseidon drew closer to the island kingdom, he finally noticed something bobbing helplessly on his waters. A raft, crude in its making and yet holding itself together, by some strange miracle. For the briefest of moments, he was almost impressed. But then, he felt a sense of dread recognition rise up within him. Something about the figure on this raft made him feel as if bile would rise up in his throat.

He watched for a moment as the figure seemed to almost collapse onto the craft, immediately using his hands to paddle towards the shores of Ithaca. The desperation, the relief he could feel emanating from the piteous mortal caused an unspoken rage to bloom once more in his chest. Out of all the times, this was the one mortal he had to encounter again? Even so, he could not be certain - perhaps this was some witless mortal who’d been cast asunder by a storm crafted by him or his brother.

A simple curl of his fingers into his palm, and the small raft began to slowly pull away from Ithaca. Poseidon only listened closely, his face breaking out into a malevolent grin as the muffled screams of fear began to race down towards where he lurked just beneath the server. He knew that tone of voice far too well. Knew those screams - he could still hear the begging as he and the Laestrygonians wreaked havoc upon the fleet of soldiers.

So it was him, after all. Clawing his way to the surface, he burst through in a flash of waves, standing upon the surface of his waters as he stared down that horrid, condemnable king once again. As if understanding his motive, his trident rose from the waters, its vicious cruelty flashing in the light as the storm clouds above began to gather.

Like a shark scenting blood in the water, the God of Tides grinned as he took his trident in hand, the sharpened points of his teeth flashing in the light as he finally laid eyes on his most sought-after target.

Odysseus of Ithaca.

“There you are, coward.”

He grinned wider at the fear that was now so prominent in the feeble mortal’s eyes. Poseidon watched with glee as Odysseus collapsed onto the raft, his eyes and face freezing into a mask of pure and absolute terror.

“Do you have any idea how long I have been searching for you? How long I’ve waited for this day to finally arrive?”

“No… No, I won’t be subject to-!”

“Enough.”

A wave of his hand, and the sea heeded his call. A tendril wrapped itself around the mouth of the King of Ithaca. His nostrils would be kept free and clear of the water, though - this was a moment Poseidon would happily savor for centuries onwards.

“Ten years. Ten. Long. Excruciating. Years of trying to search for you. To make you pay for the livelihood that you stole from my son, the peace that you took from him!”

Odysseus attempted to speak again, but the water that surrounded his mouth kept him from speaking. But even from the distance where he stood, he could hear the mortal’s breathing begin to speed up, his heart picking up in its beating. All the better. The water lifted him just a little higher, tightening around Odysseus’s face as he was lifted slightly from the raft, the toes of his sandals just barely grazing the wood. Poseidon took his time in stepping close to the mortal, the water lifting him higher until the two were nearly eye-to-eye. Man facing god, and oh, the fear in that simple little mortal’s eyes.

How Poseidon quietly reveled in it.

“And by harming him, you harmed me. My reputation. What I allowed you to get away with on that day with the Laestrygonians, I have never lived down!”

The seas roiled in response to his anger, several of the waves crashing over the raft as he recalled the ridicule. How the Laestrygonians watched him in disbelief as the ship sped away. The way they looked at him. Unworthy, unbecoming. How his brother laughed at his failure to punish Odysseus for his crime against Polyphemus. The shame he felt that day would not be washed away so easily. 

And he must have looked a sight to the mortal before him. Hair wild and unkempt, eyes dark with exhaustion and anger. Ten years of waiting for this mortal to show his face had left the greatest of burdens on his shoulders. But now, after this day, he could finally rest. He allowed the waters to recede from around Odysseus’s mouth, circling around his chest and arms as he was held aloft.

“I have waited… too long for this moment. Spent too long thinking about how this day would turn out. I cannot… I will not let you go so freely.”

“But you have a chance to-!”

Again, the water crept upwards and muffled the mortal’s voice.

“No. If I let even one mortal such as you go, the world will now. I will not be feared, will not be respected for who I am and what I represent. But you will restore my name to the proper honor it deserves this day with something simple. Something even one like you could accomplish.”

A quick spin, and the points of the trident now faced downward, seeming to push into the endless depths below them.

“Get in the water.”

Odysseus only stared at the god for a moment as the water fell away from his person again, forcing the mortal to collide roughly with the wood of the raft. But still, Odysseus continued to watch him. In fear, in worry, Poseidon couldn’t tell and could hardly care. His grip on the trident tightened, knuckles turning white as he took a step towards the craft.

“Did you not hear me? Get. In. The Water.”

The mortal was shaking now. He looked so terrified, so fragile, so easy to crush within his waters.

“Ithaca is so close to us from here. I’ve… strangely grown fond of it as I’ve waited for you. But I would feel nothing for it, nor the people there, if I raised the tides there.”

“…what?”

Now that got his attention. One side of Poseidon’s mouth twitched upwards.

“I could let the entire island drown at this very moment. Your citizens, your advisors… your wife and child, as well.”

Eyes of fear met eyes of certainty. Of course Poseidon knew about them both - in their time away from the palace, he had observed how Penelope had wandered to the edge of the docks late at night, staring out at the open ocean in the hopes that she would see a ship on the horizon. Telemachus, as well - the boy’s spirit was not so easily quenched by his father’s absence. Like his mother before, he would be seen on occasion at those same docks, staring out at the afternoon horizon, every now and then bearing bruises from the suitors that plagued the island.

But they were not the objects of his ire. But if they would be enough collateral, then maybe-

“No…”

The king looked up at the god, fury and panic blazing in equal power within his eyes.

“No! I won’t let you! You can’t put them through-!”

“YOU WILL TOY WITH ME NO LONGER, FOOL!”

The seas responded to his anger in kind. Waves exploded around the raft, currents carrying it wildly about as he allowed his fury to boil over. This mortal, this lesser creature would not undo his revenge now! Not one word would sway him! The arrogance he carried, the superiority this mortal king believed he had over the gods would be felt no longer.

“You know what I am capable of, what I’ve done to you and your damned men! Your life has been forfeit ten times over! You will not deny me what’s rightfully mine!”

The mortal was still holding on. Despite how intense the waves were, he still clung to the raft as best he could. Poseidon felt his lip curl in disgust, the waves calming for only a moment. As the raft bobbed helplessly, the king still clung to it. A wet, ragged, and pathetic thing. Far from the proclamations his niece gave of him to those in Olympus.

Still, Odysseus’s eyes blazed with indignance. He would not yield, even now? For a moment, Poseidon was slightly impressed. 

But there was still something he could use against the piteous king.

“That boy of yours… he’s your only son, isn’t he?”

Odysseus froze at that, his eyes already beginning to flood with tears. The god’s grin widened - now, he had him.

“What if I do to him what you’ve done to mine? Blind him, leave him helpless. Those who hear his cries wouldn’t dare to heal him, let alone guide him throughout his life. I’d even ensure they were told why he was made to endure such pain. I could do it now - it’d be done in less than half the time it took you to get to shore.”

The King of Ithaca only stood there, rooted at the spot. The tears fell from his eyes, dropping onto the raft before sliding towards his water. Poseidon swung his trident out to his side, the prongs of his trident pointing to the water once again.

“But send yourself to my waters and I will show him mercy. A mercy that you have never deserved.”

Odysseus collapsed onto the raft, his knees already scraping the rough wood - Poseidon could scent the blood from here. The mortal doubled over, his head resting against the wood of the raft. The silence was beginning to irritate the god further. But he had managed to bide his time for ten years - a second or two longer would not hurt him.

“...aren’t you tired, Lord Poseidon?”

That made the waters calm, unnaturally flat at that. The god was not expecting that for an answer, least of all from one like Odysseus. As the fallen king lifted his head to meet the god’s gaze, Poseidon couldn’t help but be taken aback. Gone was the pride, the anger and the wit in the mortal’s voice. All that was there was sheer exhaustion and supplication.

“We’ve both hurt one another. We’ve both lost so much. For ten years I’ve dealt with this loss and heartache, and I’m certain that you have as well. We can end it now, at this moment, between us both. No one else needs to know. I can return to Ithaca, and you can return to your home.”

Poseidon hesitated at that. To just… return to his home, to his wife just like that? To his own children waiting for him below? How his heart had yearned for that peace, for their love and comfort. But he only looked away from the mortal, cast his gaze downwards as he recalled a memory.

“…I can’t.”

He had heard the cries and howls of pain from his son miles away. Had rushed there on his chariot as he sped towards the island of the cyclops. He may have looked frantic in the face of the other cyclopes that watched his arrival, desperate, but Poseidon didn’t care. Even as his chariot made landfall, he bolted towards the cave with all the energy he could muster. The cries of his son would deafen any lesser god, but he would bear through it.

The earth shook as he finally approached the cave and his heart nearly shattered. Poseidon only briefly took in the sight of Polyphemus clutching at his face, howling angrily in pain and anger as he staggered about the cave. His flock of sheep had somehow not been crushed in his ravings - all stood rooted to one spot in a dark spot of the cave, shivering in fear of the one who protected them.

Immediately, Poseidon swept his son into a tight, but not crushing, embrace.

“That man! That monster! He did this to me! It hurts, father, it-!”

Poseidon has shushed Polyphemus as that, his divine power flowing through his son in an attempt to try and remedy the pain. The bleeding stopped, the scarring already beginning to form, but no sight would be restored to his son. The sobs from Polyphemus lessened to the occasional whimper and yelp of pain.

“Tell me what’s happened, Polyphemus. Who’s done this to you?”

“He said his name was Nobody, but… he killed Macaria. Killed her so cruelly!” 

His hands pressed tighter into the embrace, careful not to harm Polyphemus any further. For a moment, he considered the life Polyphemus would have. The desperation he would have in trying to survive on this island with his flock. And all because of one meager mortal?! 

A sniff, and then his son spoke again. Unlike the misery prior, his voice was now filled with a venom unlike any heard before.

“He told me his name. Odysseus. A king from some Ithaca. He did this to me. To me!”

As Polyphemus’s voice wavered with tears again, Poseidon’s blood boiled at the name. One of the charges of his own niece, his damnable niece, did this to his own kin?! Hate, revulsion, fury all began to rise within his heart. He had tolerated mortals for long enough, had provided them blessing and boons when he could, but to hear that one had harmed his son was unbelievable. Difficult for even him to believe, but he was not one to deny the words of his own son so easily. Thoosa would not forgive him for his negligence.

“I will make them all pay for what they’ve done. On my word… and on your honor.” 

His embrace of Polyphemus tightened a little further, hoping that his presence would calm his son down from his tears and sorrow.

It didn’t.

“...I will not rest until it is done.”

“Forgiveness, then.”

The god was snapped out of his memory as he heard Odysseus’s voice ring in his ears again.

“I never meant to hurt your son, O mighty god. I never intended to. He killed my men, that much was true. I did not want more blood to spill that had already been shed. That of your son’s, that of my men and my… my friend. Please, forgive me for all I’ve done to you and your kin. I had never intended to offend you - and it isn't my intention to do so now. We could both simply return home. Leave our grievances with each other where they lie.”

The God of Tides felt his anger bristle just beneath the surface. How dare he… how dare this mortal speak to him so commonly?! He was a god. He would not, could not be spoken down to so crudely! He would be worshipped! 

He would be feared.

“Never.”

As if sensing his rage, the oceans began to rise and form around Poseidon, forming into a massive avatar of the sea god. All the while, he kept his eyes firmly locked on the king. His eyes widened at the display of power, nothing like that the God of Tides showed upon his fleet. This was all the power that the god could muster.

Even if the others deemed it excessive for even one mortal, he did not care. His very voice seemed to echo the depths of power his domain commanded

“You have brought dishonor to me and mine for the final time, O King of Ithaca. And you shall pay dearly for this transgression. Now…”

A hand on the watery avatar raised skyward, and the tendrils of water rose from its palm to form a version of Poseidon’s trident. Unlike his own, the one was more crude, jagged, every foot of the prongs bristling with spikes that seemed to writhe and bristle with the same fury the god held within his heart.

“DIE!”

And down the trident came.

It made contact with the craft, breaking it into a shower of splinters with the force of the strike. For a moment, Odysseus had raised up his arms to shield himself from the strike, but it mattered little. No mortal could survive the blow, and neither did he - the god’s heart seemed to lighten as he watched the king suddenly disappear, the trident continuing to drive him down into the deep. It would not stop for quite some time.

Poseidon willed the waters of the gargantuan avatar away from him, pushing water-logged locks out of his face as he watched the space where the raft once floated. As the waves began to lessen, the faintest trace of bubbles could be seen floating on the surface. The god only watched as each one popped… and no more followed.

A breathless laugh as he looked at where the king had sunk. He had done it. The vow to Polyphemus had been met. His heart already began to feel lighter, greater than it had in ten years. It was done. Finally. He had finally managed to free himself from this burden, this pain.

Never again would Odysseus of Ithaca plague his waters.

Chapter Text

Hey there, everyone. I normally don’t make a chapter like this, but I wanted to make a small announcement and a disclaimer for the upcoming chapter.

So I’m subscribed to Neal Illustrator on my Youtube Channel, and I recently saw her animatic stills for her version of Six Hundred Strike. Unfortunately, when I was looking through these, I’ve been starting to get a bit worried that a few of the elements from my chapter and some of the elements from her animatic might be matching up in a way I was never planning it to.

I've been writing this fic for a very long while, bouncing between chapters based on when the motivation hits me, but something about seeing these stills of her animatic for Six Hundred Strike has me very concerned because of these elements potentially matching up.

The reason I wanted to write this up is because I’m honestly scared that some of the more enthusiastic fans of EPIC could read my fanfic, compare it to Neal’s animatic, and may accuse me of copying her work and artistic styles for my own. I don’t want to be harassed, bullied, or doxxed because there are some similarities between my work and hers - no one does, obviously, but this is something that I'm worried could happen to me.

Keep in mind, I’m not subscribed to Neal’s Patreon or have any details on how her animatics are made aside from the Behind The Scenes video she posted earlier - I’m being drip-fed the same information just as much as anyone else is, so any similarities between my work and hers are purely coincidental.

But seeing some of her still has me worried and concerned about the more enthusiastic fans and how reactionary some of them can be when they notice things that may copied or repeated from another artists's work. And the last thing I want to do is upset any artists or writers and, by proxy, the fans of their works.

This is leaving me with a few very possible, but very difficult, choices:

• Publish the chapter as is and hope that my fears aren’t based on anything wholly substantial
• Modify the chapter to ensure that it is fully original.
• Completely scrap what I’ve written for the chapter covering Six Hundred Strike and do a full rewrite

I would rather not have to do the last one because I’ve been working on this since chapter 8 (the windbag interlude chapter) because I knew how difficult of a time I would have at it. At this point, I’m really not sure what to do, but the fear and anxiety of accidentally lifting elements and/or story beats from an animatic artist's work has put me on edge. 

I really apologize if this seems out of pocket or turns out to be completely unwarranted in the end, but I wanted to post this ahead of time in case Neal’s animatic comes out before Chapter 12 (now Chapter 13 after this Author’s Note) is published and there do end up being some similarities.

I swear to the Fates, it was never my plan or my intention to copy off of any animatic artists that have already done or are planning to work on their own version of Six Hundred Strike - if there are some similarities, I absolutely and completely apologize beforehand if it ends up happening.