Chapter Text
Yes, Eurylochus was quite sure he was being showed off. Like a prized cow, or dog.
The women- all of decently high class, and very gossipy, it seemed- were looking him up and down and up again in a way he was surprised Ctimene was fine with- she got territorial and protective with him almost more often then he did with her. But this had been her idea, so…
“You seem very strong,” one of the younger women giggled. “Like you could pick Ctimene up entirely.”
Eurylochus was starting to wonder if these ladies had ever seen a man that wasn’t from Odysseus’ bloodline and hadn’t inherited the short gene. He glanced down at Ctimene for a moment, and at her small nod of encouragement, he adjusted his shoulder pauldron and his sword sheathed across his back before sweeping her up in a bridal carry.
The resulting gasps and whispers and giggles were exhausting. He busied himself looking at Ctimene’s comely blush, and her obvious attempt at hiding a grin as she settled against his chest.
“Are you this amused?” He murmured, deciding not to set her down quite yet. “I do wonder what exactly makes you this eager to boast.”
Ctimene propped herself a bit higher to whisper back in his ear. “Well, these are the ladies who always told me to ‘lower my expectations’. So of course I’m excited to show off when you exceed all of my- and their- hopes.”
Lower her expectations? Eurylochus thought he’d been doing the bare minimum here this whole time, walking in with her and making polite conversation with her old circle. “And what were those…expectations you’d had?”
“Oh, I hardly remember. Gentlemanly. Kind, smart, respectful.”
“That is more of a basic standard, I’d think.”
“That’s what I said!”
“What are you two whispering about?” One of the girls interrupted Ctimene’s righteous indignation.
“Oh, I just wanted to tell her that her hair is beautiful today,” Eurylochus responded. Ctimene’s eyes widened slightly, but she didn’t interrupt. He slowly set her down on the floor, and kept one hand on the small of her back. “And that I love her. And that this himation she made me is very comfortable.”
Ctimene cast him an adorable grin, even at his subpar lying skills- he had probably laid that on a bit too thick. The palace women seemed to be believing it, anyway.
“It is?” One of the girls seemed surprised, and it melted into a look of insincere sympathy that Eurylochus didn’t like. “Ctimene never had a great talent for weaving.”
“Well,” Eurylochus said, “I am quite satisfied with her talents. And all of her. I could never ask for more.”
The girl hummed, and wandered away, clearly dejected with the lack of gossip to be found in the steady affection. One of the others, an older woman, smiled more sincerely as she took Ctimene’s hands. “I’m glad you’ve found someone that suits you, my dear. I wish you both the greatest happiness.”
Ctimene’s grin softened to match the tone. “Thank you, tēthē.”
The woman pulled Ctimene a bit away from Eurylochus, but her whisper was still loud enough for him overhear. “And I can guess that’s not the only large sword he has- you see he puts to good use.”
Ctimene’s pallor bloomed like summer’s reddest rose, and Eurylochus stood very, very still to pretend he hadn’t heard that, praying that neither his nor his sword had any visible reaction.
“Yes, uh- well, it was so nice to see you all again,” Ctimene fumbled, pulling away and tugging at the hem of her shawl. Eurylochus could barely open his mouth to offer any proper farewell before she had stepped away and grabbed his arm, dragging him away and around the corner to an empty hall. There, she took the unnecessary privacy precaution to yank him behind a column as well. There, she gasped as if coming up for air from the bottom of a lake, practically steaming. She also hid her face; Eurylochus took the invitation to cover the lower half of his own as well, though he knew his blush was mercifully not as glaring.
After a silent moment of shared mortification, Ctimene peeked through her fingers up at him. “…you heard that.”
Eurylochus nodded before he could think to spare her the embarrassment. His reaction probably gave it away, anyway.
Ctimene groaned and leaned against him, where his hands automatically steadied her. She buried her face in his chest, and her voice came out muffled. “I can’t believe she said that.”
As Eurylochus’ face finally began to cool, he found the strength to smirk at her. “What, that was not part of your plan to ‘show me off’?”
She punched him in the stomach.
“Ooghf.”
“Gentleman, my foot.”
“Just your foot?”
“…”
“Ough-”