Chapter Text
- The War is Over – The Journey Home
The words are spoken too soon. Home, Raphael thinks to himself. It has almost become a foreign concept.
After that trouble with the Cyclops Polyphemus and those wretched Sirens, Raphael was still no closer to home.
In fact, as it was now, he finds himself on an island, Ogygia. That godsforsaken island!
Not only is he stuck on an island – and he cannot remember how long it has been – but he has to face a bit of Simon’s poison: an unwelcome suitor.
A woman named Isabelle – in these regions also known as Calypso, daughter of Atlas, that giant – chases after him, running across the rocky terrain of Ogygia in haste to get to him.
Her smile is made of blood red lips, and Raphael can’t but describe it as predatory. It scares the living wits out of him – and his wits he needs, because it’s the only way he can fend off her advances.
“Not today, I’m too tired,” he reasons.
“I’m ill, and you’ll get infected if you come close to me!”
“I am married, madam!”
“You’re just – you’re not my type.”
In the end, Isabelle tires of his excuses, and makes a prisoner out of him.
Bound in shackles, Raphael is not pleased. Isabelle sings for him. Her voice enchants him and he is enraptured, suddenly overwhelmed with love and lust. They fall into bed with each other.
Athena, having witnessed this from her golden perch on Mount Olympus, thinks this has gone one step too far. She is supposed to protect Raphael, and so she shall. He must return home to his husband.
“My gods,” cries Athena, “It is one thing to woo a human, but to trick them thus?” (How hypocritical of those gods, Isabelle will later say, gods do nothing but trick humans!)
Athena goes to her father, Zeus, to ask him for help, who sends the messenger Hermes on his way to free Raphael from Calypso’s clutches. As Zeus argues, Calypso and Raphael are not destined to be together – and shame on her, to hunt after a married man! Tsk! Let him go! Stop singing!
Isabelle grouches as Raphael sails away. Those infernal gods, always meddling where they are not wanted.
- Another Letter to my Love
Dear Husband,
According to my suitors, who despite my brilliant little weaving trick, continue to badger me with proposals, you have taken a lover!
I’m sure rumours have reached you too, wherever you are, and that you have heard I have taken up a lover as well – perhaps even two, or three.
We make quite a merry pair. Or a foursome.
Yours,
faithfully,
Simon
- His Suitors – The Little Weaving Trick
With a frown, Simon stares helplessly at Maia Roberts, suitor number one hundred and two. She is a fine girl, sure, even attractive and sharp-tongued. But still! Simon remains faithful, and if you think a beautiful face is enough to change his mind, think again.
Damn his husband! Curse him to Tartarus and back! He can rot in that abyss of torture for all Simon cares!
But where is he, bemoans Simon, where is that damned husband? How long does it take to cross a sea and some mountains? Surely he ought to be back by now!
Maia watches him with a smirk on his face, not oblivious to his attraction. Damn Aphrodite!
But Simon has upheld his promise: he has come up with a strategy to keep the suitors at bay. Only when the weaving of his shroud is finished, he will take a suitor. Only, the suitors don’t know he undoes his day’s work every night. The shroud will never be finished! It is not a bad trick, if he says so himself.
Simon gestures to his weaving, the beginning of a shroud for Raphael’s deceased father, the old Laertes.
“As you w-well know,” he stutters, “I have made a fair deal with my suitors. I can only choose a suitor once my weaving is finished. And as you can see, it is not nearly finished.”
“You will reconsider,” Maia proclaims with confidence.
Simon coughs. “No, no, I won’t. I really won’t.”
Behind him, Clary shakes her head. “He really won’t,” she echoes.
“Nope,” Camille says, popping the p.
Maia’s face darkens and she growls. She stomps outside and plops down at one of the suitor’s tables in the courtyard, drinking some fresh beer.
Simon snoops from the balcony on the first floor. The band of suitors is getting rowdy.
- Choir – Their Revenge
[The maids lose their patience with the Faithful King Consort. They continue to clean up after the suitors – but take revenge and pleasure where they can. Two maids exchange words.]
Ugh! Another day of cleaning after admirers,
of listening to our King Consort whine
and cry for his husband across the sea.
Ugh, indeed! No end to his lament
A sea full of willing wooers
And he remains dried up like a virgin!
Ugh, oh! He deserves none of them,
whereas we—
Yes, we—
We, indeed, slave and toil all day,
and would happily receive a suitor, or ten
Or twenty!
Ugh! All this love at the King Consort’s feet
And he does away with them, as if they are dirt and grime
Ugh!
We will happily take his place,
if he remains a braggart!
That stiff-neck! That snob!
And our revenge shall not end there!
Won’t it?
No, it won’t!
It won’t!
No, my sister, because I spied with my eye
something treacherous and cunning!
Say it, sister, quickly!
Our Faithful King Consort, in the dead of night,
undoes her weaving to hoodwink those idiot suitors!
And thus, he will never have to choose one!
How treacherous and cunning!
Her peace is not safe for much longer!
Let us go and spread some truth!
Shed some light on the situation!
Let us tell these suitors what he is doing!
How evil you are!
I am but honest—
How can that be evil?
[The maids erupt into a fit of laughter, spurred on by their malice and malcontent.]
- Camille’s Susurrations
Dear Leader,
My letter comes with disturbing news. The falsehood your Simon has used to dodge unwelcome proposals has been uncovered! The suitors have been very angry ever since they discovered Simon unweaves his weavings each night. They are brash and boisterous, the lot of them. For years this trick has worked, but now the suitors see through it. We will have to come up with a new ruse soon, if you do not come back, for the shroud is almost finished.
Camille
- The Return Home
After more than a decade, Raphael stops in front of his palace.
He looks like a beggar: unkempt beard and filth all over his face. Simon does not recognize him and treats him as the hundred and ninth suitor, dismissing his advances.
Only when he claims to be the Saint King does Simon halt.
“You are lying.”
“No.”
Simon tests this suitor, as his shroud is nearly finished and he will have no choice but to live up to his promise and choose a suitor. It might as well be one who is deserving of him.
In the end, Simon starts to doubt this mysterious hobo, whose eyes do rather look like those of Raphael.
There remains but one test.
“Fine,” Simon challenges. “If you’re truly my husband, then I will accept you.”
“Wonderful,” replies Raphael, with a hint of doubt. Surely it can’t be this easy?
“If, and only if you drag our marriage bed right into this room. I need a strong man, after all.”
Raphael huffs. “Hah! That will be impossible.”
“How so?”
“When we married, I cut our marriage bed out of the big, living olive tree in our bedroom. I can’t remove it in any way, unless you want me to cut off the tree.”
Simon laughs broadly. “Husband! Finally!”
“Yes.”
Simon stands up to embrace his long-lost husband, but before he can take two steps and fall into his arms, Raphael holds up his hands.
“Wait. First we must take tie up some loose ends. Camille has kept me updated on everything.”
Simon had not known this. He looked behind him, where Camille gives him a self-satisfied smirk. “Really?”
“Yes.”
And that is how the treacherous handmaids are punished for their betrayal. The instigator, who readily and proudly admits it was her idea to betray Simon, is hanged.
The suitors are sent away, some with more force than others – some, refusing to drown out their huge egos, only accept to a duel. Raphael rids the world of these feeble men and women.
Others, who are more level-headed, accept their loss. They gripe and grouse and grumble, complaining, “What a spectacular waste of time! I could’ve born ten sons in all this time!”
And with this, their Odyssey ends. The Saint King and his Faithfull King Consort wisely rule the kingdom with a gentle hand and stern laws. They are widely known for their story, for the Consort’s faithfulness, and the King’s perseverance for finding his way back home.
- Choir – End of Days
[The maid having spread the word about Simon’s weaving plot, now about to be hanged and hungry for vengeance, speaks to another maid.]
I call to Hecate, goddess of necromancy,
let me live to plot my avengement—
Give it up, sister!
Can’t you see we’ve lost?
I call to Hecate, goddess of sorcery,
curse the King and his Consort
Give it up, sister!
You are about to die, ask for forgiveness!
Never! Let that bitch suffer, Hecate!
My goodness
Let him suffer, Nemesis, goddess of revenge!
This is getting ridiculous.
[another maid chimes in] Truly embarrassing
Divine retribution for those who cause pain!
Nemesis, daughter of Justice, dark-faced goddess,
Do your worst, your absolute worst,
Drag them to Tartaros!
Kill these sons of bitches for me!
Oh, for gods’ sake.
[And all lived happily ever after, except for the maid]