Chapter Text
Days began to pass since Penelope and her men had arrived on the island, but it was as if she had buried that detail, the thought of her homeland was fading, she had learned the names of the nymphs, the rooms, even the name of some of Circe's lions.
In that palace she returned to live as a queen, the difference was that there were no men inside, which many nymphs and Circe herself said was better, but deep inside she could feel as something was missing, either way she tried to put that feeling aside and just continued her day as usual, actually, her new usual.
She loved Circe's company, every day they became closer, starting to make sleeping in each other's arms a routine, but they never went beyond that point, after that time with the god Hermes, Penelope had become paranoid, and above all she felt a sense of guilt that she couldn't swallow.
one of these evenings as they were hugging, Circe used her tail to tickle Penelope's leg, while she made curls in her hair, they were silent, which was nothing new for them; both were satisfied with each other's company.
Circe put a hand on Penelope's cheek, the one with the scar, "You answered every question my nymphs asked you about your scars, but you never answered this one. Is there a reason, by any chance?"
The warrior seemed embarrassed by that question, starting to avoid Circe's gaze she had the expression of someone guilty, someone who knew she had made a mistake "I'm ashamed of it"
"Why?" Circe stopped her tail, resting it along her side, observing Penelope's expression, trying to study her. "It's always a war story..." said the half-nymph, while slowly clenching her fists. "The one I hate most of all."
And it was the truth, of all her moments in war that was the one she hated the most,
"Who did it?" Circe seemed even more curious, her big yellow eyes fixed on Penelope, occasionally moving to the scar.
"A mother," she took a breath, "a mother like me, a mother like you." Her fists clenched tighter, her nails digging into the calluses on her palm, but that didn't stop the marks that were creating. "A mother who reacted the way I would have reacted too."
Circe remained calm watching her, she didn't know how to react or what to say in such a moment, while slowly tears fell from the warrior's eyes, which seemed to become more and more fragile in front of her.
And how could she forget that night? The child in her arms, her trying to trade her fate with Zeus, while he kept telling her how it wouldn't work.
"Please! I could.. I could just bring him home!" Her eyes wide as she looked up at the god manifested before her as an eagle "I can raise him as my own!"
"He will only end up burning your house and your throne, as you did in his house."
"please- there must be another way- Send him away from home? I can't do it!"
"He will find you anywhere you go, and even if you keep his past hidden the gods will let him know."
She was in tears, clutching the baby in her arms, "please don't make me do this.."
"In any case, your hands will be stained with blood; choose carefully whose it will be." and so the eagle flew away, leaving Penelope on her knees with that infant in her arms, who seemed to feel safe too.
She could barely feel it anymore, the child finding comfort in her arms as the screams of the men outside bombarded her head.
She slowly placed the baby's blanket over his face, took a small knife and took a breath, she watched as the baby in front of her wriggled beneath the blanket over his face and she couldn't help but think of her Telemachus at home, for a second she stopped what she was doing.
She didn't want to do it, she felt like it was an impossible task and she kept wondering why SHE had to do it? Such an innocent baby..
She took another deep breath and remembered Zeus' words, the truth was, either that baby or her child, and she knew she would never sacrifice her child for another's.
She quickly raised her knife and prepared to strike when a hand grabbed her wrist tightly and stopped her. When she looked up her eyes widened and immediately tried to free herself, it was Andromache, the baby's mother.
She left the child on the ground and got up, they began to fight, Penelope had a clear advantage, but the mother continued to hold her wrist tightly "He's just a baby! How can you even think of doing this?"
Penelope didn't answer her, she bit her lip and tried to free her wrist at all costs, when Andromache decided to push in the same direction the warrior was pulling, this made Penelope lose control of her own arm for a moment, the mother took the opportunity and cut her cheek with the knife, disfiguring her and making her let out a cry of pain.
Andromache let go of her wrist but quickly took the knife, Penelope still cut by the pain threw herself at her, blocking her and pinning her against the wall, her eyes were wide and her teeth clenched, she had an almost animalistic appearance, she held the woman tightly in front of her until she heard a gasp coming from her as she looked behind Penelope, followed by the baby's cry, when she turned around she saw the son of Achilles holding the baby in his hand, his eyes fixed on the two women.
"Neo-" the boy wasted no time and approached the balcony with the child in his arms, the woman quickly dropped the knife and cried "no! please, he's little! he's not to blame" Penelope held her tightly from behind, she could feel as if her heart was exploding,
"Take me instead" and the baby was gone, no more cries, no more babbling, there was just the sound of something hitting the ground.
Andromache froze, tears streaming down her cheeks and dripping down her chin. "No.. no..." she sobbed and Penelope could feel her legs giving out, she held her, slowly lowering her to the ground on her knees, she could feel the blood dripping from her cheek, her cheek stinging and burning, but what marked her that day were her mother's sobs in front of her, loud and heartfelt, she remained silent, watching her until other warriors took her away.
She started to explain that night to Circe, she started to explain everything, how she didn't want to do it, how she felt like a monster no longer a woman, she was just sobbing uncontrollably,
"I deserve the scar-" she sobbed out "I deserve the shame of having it!" She covered her face with her Hands, Circe next to her was shocked, she didn't know what to say, what to do, what to think, so she just stayed silent, she let Penelope rant her pain.
When the warrior finished telling her story and simply cried without speaking, just sobs, Circe gently took her hands and moved them away from her face, pressing a kiss on her cheek. "I think that, of all the stories you've told me..." Circe caressed her hands gently. "This is the one where you were the bravest... you deserved that wound, yes, but you should see it like the night you realized you would do anything for your son."
Penelope's tears continued to fall, her eyes red and her lips clearly dry, "you shouldn't be ashamed of it" Penelope took a breath and hugged Circe tightly, the lioness held her tightly too in return.
"I've never told anyone this..." Penelope still had some sobs in her while talking "you are the only one who made me feel safe enough to tell"
Circe's heart was starting to beat really fast, holding the half-nymph in front of her tighter, "you can always tell me whatever you want, everything that torments you and everything else"
"Thank you," said the warrior, burying her face in the lioness's shoulder.