Chapter Text
‘Athena?’
Odysseus whispered, brow furrowed in concern, making no attempt to mask the confusion in his voice. At the arrival of her former mentee and the sudden creak of the door Athena jumped up from her chair so fast it almost toppled over. Her lips were bitten raw, and her one good eye shimmered with unshed tears. Her armour was missing again, and the lightning scars that traced her skin glittered in the moonlight. Stranger still, Athena had shrunk her Godly form down to the size of a mortal woman, fear transforming her into something more… human.
Thunder rumbled again in the distance. Athena and Odysseus both flinched, then turned to look at each other incredulously. Odysseus opened his mouth, then closed it again without saying a word. The rain continued to fall, and Athena sat down heavily in her chair, letting out a long, shaky exhale.
‘You too huh? I suppose that makes sense.’
She muttered, keeping her eyes fixed on the ground to avoid Odysseus’ gaze.
‘I saw what Zeu- what my father- did to your men. I’m so sorry Odysseus.’
The words were flat and hollow in her ears. An empty sentiment. All that power, all that training, and when Odysseus needed her the most, she had vanished.
‘Athena… it's not your-’
Odysseus began, tentatively reaching a hand towards Athena, only to jump back when the sky lit up with lightning again. Athena whimpered, reaching instinctively for Telemachus' hand and gripping it tightly.
Odysseus took a deep breath, a thousand questions on the tip of his tongue.
‘Athena… I know why I’m afraid of thunder and lightning. But you…’
He spoke softly, as though attempting to soothe a wounded animal. Athena loved him and hated him for it in equal measure.
‘How did you get those scars? And your eye… what happened?’’
‘That's no concern of yours.’
Athena said through gritted teeth, in a tone that would have had a younger Odysseus on his knees, begging the Goddess for forgiveness.
‘Yes it is!’ Odysseus shouted, grasping Athena's chin in his hands and forcing her to look him in the eye.
‘You were my mentor, and you left me when I needed you. Years later I find you in my palace, scarred and whimpering with fear, clutching my son's hand hard enough to break it… that is very much my concern.’
Tears gathered in Athena's good eye again, and she blinked them back furiously, longing for the security of her helmet and her armour. Never had she felt so exposed.
For a long moment, the two of them simply looked at each other, shock mirrored in their faces. Athena registered what Odysseus had said about Telemachus' hand and reluctantly let go of it. She adjusted the blankets so that every part of him was covered and stroked the boy's sweat damp curls away from his forehead. Telemachus moaned in his sleep, coughing a little, but his breathing soon evened out, and his eyes remained closed.
Odysseus watched cautiously, hoping that Athena wouldn’t simply dematerialize like she had before. The uncomfortable silence stretched on.
‘Friend’ Athena whispered, voice raspy with emotion.
‘Huh?’
‘I wasn’t just your mentor…’ she said, swallowing thickly before continuing ‘I was your friend. And I would be again, if you’d have me.’
‘I would.’
For a moment the two warriors simply looked at each other. Both had been changed irrevocably by the last twenty years. Both had scars that would never fully heal. But perhaps finally, they could begin to find peace.
‘When I was trapped on the island-’
Odysseus began. He didn’t say Calypso’s island. Her name still tasted like ash in his mouth after what he’d endured there.
‘A messenger arrived. Hermes. He gave me the resources and the route I needed to get home…I remember… I remember thanking him. And he said don’t thank me friend, I’m not the one that fought for you… It was you, wasn’t it? You fought for me.’
Athena gripped the armrests of her chair, nails digging into the wood. She nodded silently, both eyes fixed on the ground.
‘The fight….Was it Zeus? Did he do this to you?’
Athena nodded again, a single tear splashing onto the stone floor. A red mist crept over Odysseus’ vision.
‘How could he? God or no, how could any father do that to his own-’
They were interrupted by a weak groan coming from the bed.
‘What… what's happening?’ Telemachus muttered thickly ‘Athena? Are we under attack?’
He rolled over in an attempt to get a better look at the figures by his bed, but the movement immediately triggered a coughing fit. Telemachus clamped a hand to his mouth, eyes shut, the other hand gesturing weakly for the basin on his bedside table. Odysseus was on his feet in seconds, holding the bowl out with one hand and rubbing his son's back with the other while he hacked and spat into the bowl. When the coughing fit had passed, he lay Telemachus back down and pressed the back of his hand to his forehead.
‘Still too warm’ Odysseus muttered ‘And no, we’re not under attack son. You are perfectly safe. Athena and I were simply talking, and things got a little heated. I’m sorry, I shouldn't have woken you.’
‘Ssss ok’ Telemachus slurred, eyes already closing.
Odysseus cocked his head towards the door, indicating that he and Athena should continue their conversation somewhere more private. It would have been easier for Athena to simply pull him into quick thought, but he felt this conversation should occur with both parties on an equal footing. No secrets, no Godly magic or divine intervention. The two of them were almost at the door, when Telemachus coughed weakly. They turned to check on him.
‘Thena… mmm glad… I’m glad you’re friends again.’
Odysseus and Athena paced the corridor, talking until the storm subsided and the skies were lit by the grey light of dawn. They shared the horror that had befallen them over the last ten years, the scars that would never truly heal. And they spoke of Telemachus… of how his bright smile and unconditional love for those around him helped them both appreciate the joy and softness in the world. Odysseus shared how, over the past month, he’d watched that bright light dim. How Telemachus struggled to eat, and frequently woke up screaming from nightmares, only to deny that he was struggling to sleep the next day. Together, the two strategists came up with a plan.
***
Telemachus spent the next few days in bed. He coughed up a truly disgusting amount of phlegm, and, with the Goddess Athena by his bedside, spear clutched in her hand, he was able to sleep without nightmares. When he awoke one morning, the sun was high in the sky and its light felt pleasantly warm on his face. As his eyes fluttered open he immediately became aware of two things. The first, was that both his parents were staring at him with unsettling looks of adoration on their faces. The second was that he was absolutely drenched in sweat. Athena was nowhere in sight. She had taken to disappearing most mornings, allowing the royal family some time to themselves, to be just… a family.
‘Morning son’ Penelope murmured softly, never taking her eyes off Telemachus ‘your fever finally broke. I’ll ask the servants to prepare a bath for you while I change the sheets. Then, do you think you could manage a light meal?’
In answer, Telemachus’ stomach grumbled, and he blushed furiously, surprised to find that his appetite had returned.
‘I think so’ he said, throat still a little hoarse from his illness, then, in a louder voice ‘Why are you both staring at me?’
Odysseus and Penelope looked at each other, then back at their son, still smiling.
‘Sorry son’ Odysseus explained, looking a little sheepish ‘But you gave us both quite a scare. I think we’re just relieved to see you recovering at last. The physician will be back tomorrow to check on you, then he’ll return to the palace once a week to speak to us as a family.’
‘Once a week?’ Telemachus asked, brows furrowed in confusion ‘Is someone else ill ? Is it your leg?’
‘No… no son, my leg is fine’
Penelope elbowed Odysseus in the ribs, glaring pointedly at him.
‘Well… it’s not fine. The old scar still flares up in times of stress. And I’ve experienced a great deal of stress over the last twenty years. We all have.’
‘That's why the physician will be coming.’
Penelope clarified, resting one hand on Odysseus’s good knee and using her other hand to card through her son's hair affectionately.
‘So that we can talk things through together as a family, and work out the best way we can help each other.’
Telemachus nodded slowly, considering their words. Talking as a family sounded… nice. He’d already seen the good it had done for Odysseus and Athena, how much happier they both seemed after reconnecting. And if his father, the great King of Ithaca, could openly discuss being afraid of thunder… if the Goddess of War and Wisdom could succumb to injuries… and most shockingly of all, admit that sometimes she was wrong, then maybe Telemachus’ fears didn’t make him weak after all.
‘Maybe we’ll be fine.’
Telemachus said aloud. He remembered the first time he’d uttered those words to Athena all those months ago. So much had changed since then. He was the student of a goddess. His father had returned and his mother was safe. Both his parents smiled at him, the relief in their faces palpable. The silence stretched on for a long, peaceful moment.
Then, Odysseus breathed in sharply and pulled a strange face, eyes narrowed, nose crinkled, lips pulled back in a snarl.
‘Father?’ Telemachus asked, brows raised in confusion.
‘Ody…’ Penelope giggled softly ‘What in the Gods name are you making that face fo-’
She was interrupted by Odysseus jerking forward and sneezing loudly. He remained hunched forward, as though the sneeze had taken all the energy out of him. Odysseus coughed weakly, and Penelope steadied him with one hand, pressing her other hand against his forehead.
‘Oh dear’ she whispered softly, frowning and the heat she felt there ‘let’s get you to bed.’
***The End***