Chapter Text
“Pen! They’re here!” Helen called to her friend.
Penelope of the Agaidai line of Sparta finished tying up her clay-coloured hair and crossed the room to the balcony, where Helen was standing. Sure enough, coming up the city streets were the banners of the third king of Ithaca, Odysseus.
“He certainly knows how to make an entrance,” Penelope mused.
“Could I really sail all the way to a tiny island such as Ithaca, when Atreus’ son and lands are so close?” Helen sighed, slouching down.
“You’d truly rather marry a brut like Menelaus?” Penelope asked, her lilac silks fluttering in the summer breeze.
“It’d be more exciting, all the war stories, him teaching our sons how to fight,” Helen said, wistfully.
“And that’s where you and I differ, darling friend. Give me a quiet life on an island where war is a distant notion,” Penelope said, sighing down to meet her friend.
“And that is why you are boring Penelope. If you weren’t so beautiful you’d be mistaken for an old prophet,” Helen laughed.
“Helen, Tyndareus is ready for us,” Leda said from the doorway.
Helen sighed and looked up at the clouds, “Father, please let this be painless.”
Sometimes Penelope forgot that her friend was the daughter of a god. She was beautiful enough to be Zeus’ child for sure, but she also looked pleasantly mortal.
At least she’ll never know the heartbreak of both parents dying. It had been six years since her mother, Asterodia, died but Penelope still mourned for her.
Leda kissed her daughter’s head as the girl approached. Helen started off down the stairway, but Penelope waited so Leda could proceed her.
Leda touched Penelope’s shoulder with swan-like grace and led her down the stairs. “I hear Menelaus is attending the festivities.”
Penelope rolled her eyes, “Aunt Leda,”
“Your dear mother, may Hades be kind to her, would want someone to guide you in the ways of marriage,” Leda replied.
“I have my father,” Penelope countered. She didn’t understand why people thought Icarius was incompetent in such manners. Sure he was known for his running, but his mind was just as quick.
“Men see marriage as a business transaction, but we women see it as an opportunity,” Leda smiled.
“An opportunity for what?”
Leda laughed, “And that my dear, sweet niece is why you mustn’t be cooped up with your father so much. With marriage we girls have a chance to tip the scales of the world from our husband’s sides. We can whisper in their ears and comfort them in bed, and they’ll do anything we say. Women have small powers in this world, but we must make the most of them.”
Penelope had never thought about it that way. She’d known she’d need to give her father an alliance, but she hadn’t thought about playing the game her way. She did it with everything else, why not this?
Leda escorted Penelope into the throne courtyard and presented her to King Tyndareus. Leda went to sit next to her husband and Penelope faded into the crowd.
Her own father was supposed to be arriving soon, but as she scanned the crowded hall she found one brown and one blue eye staring at her. They belonged to a face Penelope had never seen before but she assumed he was the young King Odysseus. He had a tall boy with dark skin and short hair on his left. To his right was a slightly shorter, lighter boy, with longer curly hair, and spectacles. Behind Odysseus stood a man that confirmed Penelope’s suspicion. He was much older than the boys with thinning blonde hair and the Ithaca wolf woven into the banner he was holding.
Penelope turned back to Odysseus and made the slightly immature decision to scrunch her face up at him. It was impolite to stare anyway.
But her face didn’t detour the boy king who simply smiled at her, ignoring whatever the tallest boy was trying to say to him.
Penelope tilted her head, but her attention was drawn back to King Tyndareus making some sort of speech.
Tyndareus closed his address with, “Now, enjoy the bounty of my kingdom.”
The festivities began in earnest. Tyndareus and Leda sat at the raised table smiling at the happiness, dancing, and laughter that filled their hall.
Penelope had helped herself to one of the glasses of wine, offered to her by a servant. She placed herself against a column, watching Helen enjoy herself and flirting her way through the hall.
“And where is the man that will have you to wife?” a voice asked behind her.
Penelope cocked her head back to see the brown and blue eyed king. “My aunt wants Menelaus, but it seems my cousin will get to him before I can.” She bopped her chin to where Helen was chatting with the red haired prince.
Odysseus rested his right hip against her column, his arms folded against his chest, a glass of wine in his left hand. “Is she really your cousin if her father is Zeus?” he asked.
Penelope shifted to face him. He wasn’t even taller than her. “In my heart she is. Aren’t you supposed to be courting her?”
He shrugged, “She’s not my type. Aren’t you a little old for Menelaus?”
“You ask a lot of questions and from what I’ve heard, I’m the same age as you,” Penelope spit back.
“Really? You seem too beautiful and clever to be fifteen,” Odysseus said, trying his best to look down at her.
“You think I’m beautiful?” Penelope asked.
“I think the whole hall thinks you’re beautiful,” Odysseus said, taking a sip of his wine.
“You’re quite forward for a king,” Penelope mused, her eyes tracking Helen who was now chatting with Agamemnon.
Odysseus shrugged, “It’s the farmer in me.”
“And what does a farmer look for in a bride?” Penelope asked, sipping her wine and continuing to watch Helen.
“Witty, lovely to look at, serene, not part of the divine family tree, Penelope of the Agaidai line,” Odysseus listed.
Penelope side eyed him. “If you truly intend to marry me, you’d have to race my father.”
“Now look who's being forward. I’d liked to get to know you better first, Penelope of the Agaidai line,” Odysseus grinned.
Penelope sighed into her wine, not wishing to argue with him anymore. “You can just call me Penelope, you know.”
“As you wish. But you must call me just Odysseus,” he said, still smiling.
It was an infectious smile. “Alright, just Odysseus. It is a pleasure to meet you.”
“And you, just Penelope.”
Her eyes lingered on his, smiling softly.
“Penelope!” Helen shouted as she took Penelope’s hand. “Come dance with me!”
Odysseus smoothly took Penelope’s drink from her and she mouthed ‘thank you’ as she was pulled to the centre of the hall by Helen. She linked hands with another high lady and a circle was made around the courtyard. The women sidestepped across the marble floor, swaying their arms back and forth. Leda could not contain her joy and pranced down the steps to join the other women, laughing and smiling.
When Penelope reached the other side of the courtyard, she met Odysseus’ eyes. He was still smiling and tapping his foot to the drum beat.
The musicians drew the song to a close and all the women let out a celebratory cry. Helen and Leda wrapped their arms around Penelope, and the trio swayed, elated from the excitement and happiness.
“Penelope!” Icarius called from the entrance.
“Father,” Penelope cried back, making the unceremonious gesture of running down the hall into her father’s embrace.
He scooped her up, as if she was a small child. “I’ve missed you daughter.”
“She has been well received in my court,” Leda said, coming to stand next to them.
“Thank you my good sister,” Icarius smiled.
“She’s quite welcome anytime.”
“Brother!” King Tyndareus boomed, coming down the column of people.
Icarius set Penelope down and opened his arms to his brother. “I hope you can forgive me for being late.”
“Of course,” Tyndareus, clapping his brother on the back, “If anything I am happy to know that you can be late.”
Icarius laughed as his brother led him up to the raised table, Leda following and Helen struck up more flirting with Menelaus.
“I take it that’s the man I’d have to beat for your hand?” Odysseus said, appearing beside her and offering her her wine.
“I thought you wanted to get to know me first,” Penelope said, swallowing the rest of her wine.
“Well tell me all there is to know about just Penelope,” Odysseus said.
Penelope smiled and was about to reply, when Helen dragged her over to Menelaus.
By no intentional fault of Helen but due to being dragged along by her, Penelope never got a chance to talk with Odysseus for the rest of the evening.
The festivities went on late into the night and Penelope should have been exhausted but she couldn’t find sleep. She wandered into gardens and underneath an olive tree.
“Great minds think alike,” Odysseus said, sitting beneath the tree.
“Can’t sleep either?” Penelope asked, sitting beside him.
“I’ve never been this far from the island before,” he admitted.
“What does Ithaca sound like at night?” Penelope asked, bringing her knees to her chest.
Odysseus sighed and rested his head against the tree. “Sometimes you can hear the sheep, but you can always hear the sea and feel the salt winds.”
“It sounds peaceful,” Penelope remarked.
“It is. On the mainland, everything is too stagnant here,” he replied.
She nodded.
“Oh, I’m sorry I know this is your home,” Odysseus said, quickly.
“It’s fine. Sparta can get kind of dull,” she admitted. “My mother was the one who made it lively.”
“I don’t know much about her,” Odysseus said.
“Her name meant starlike,” Penelope started, looking up at the sky, “She was. Always bringing warmth into our house.”
“Was?” Odysseus asked.
“She died when I was nine,” Penelope said, still looking up at the constellations.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to pry,” Odysseus said.
“It’s alright. You did say you wanted to know everything about me,” Penelope smiled. It was nice remembering her mother before the sickness.
“I suppose I should tell you about my family now,” Odysseus said.
Penelope shifted to face him.
“My father, Laertes, is the second king of Ithaca but he was meant to be a farmer. So he entrusted me with the kingdom. My mother, Anticlea, is just as brave as Artemis. She’s good with a bow too, she’s the one who taught me. And she did this absolutely mental thing, where she planted four olive trees that now make up a bed frame. And then my sister, Ctimene, is harmless enough, but don’t cross her when she’s reading.”
Penelope laughed, “My sister’s as fast and joyful as my father. She looks like my mother too and just as clear eyed as Athena.”
“Your family seems lovely,” Odysseus nodded.
“I’m quite partial to them,” she smiled.
Odysseus laughed, “What do you do for fun?”
“I weave or sew. It passes the time and gives me the opportunity to think,” Penelope answered.
“I’d say you and your sister are blessed by Athena. And I should know, she’s my mentor,” Odysseus smiled, titling his chin up.
“Really? You?” Penelope asked, incredulously.
“Yes. You needn’t act so shocked. The first time I noticed her as an owl. Polites, Eurylochus, and I heard of a boar that was causing trouble in the lower villages. So, of course we went to solve the problem,” Odysseus grinned.
“And did you?” Penelope asked.
“Yes and mostly without any injuries. I got pretty banged up though,” Odysseus said, rubbing the back of his neck, “When my father was carrying me back to the castle, I saw the owl. I knew it was Athena and, to my mother’s chagrin, snuck out. That night Athena revealed herself to me.”
“Other than fighting wild boars, what do you do for fun?” Penelope inquired.
“Archery mostly, though Eurylochus is helping me with double swords,” Odysseus shrugged.
“You’re a warrior?”
“More of a tactician, I’d say,” Odysseus said, “I don’t think I’d do well in war, being so far from Ithaca.”
“Well, I’ll have to spar with you then to see if you’re as good as you say,” Penelope said, lifting her head proudly.
“What’s your weapon of choice?” he asked.
“Daggers. They’re small and quick like me,” Penelope grinned.
A soft feathered owl flew overhead. Penelope watched it land before whispering, “I should probably try and get some sleep. I have a long travel day tomorrow.”
“You’re not staying with Helen?”
“I don’t have 100 suitors lining the city walls,” Penelope shrugged, standing.
“Well then goodnight,” Odysseus smiled up at her.
“Goodnight.” Penelope dipped her head.
“When the stars shine, then it's our time at the olive tree,” Odysseus sang, under his breath.
“I wouldn’t think you could sing. Is Apollo your mentor too?” Penelope asked
“No, but Hermes is my great-grandfather,” Odysseus smiled.
“You are full of surprises, Odysseus of Ithaca.”
“And you are a wonderment, Penelope of the Agaidai line.”
Penelope got little sleep, as the servants woke her early into dawn. She dressed in a simple chiton, tied further to her right hip in order to give her more room when riding back to Northern Sparta. Her rosy clay hair was tied into a simple braid and she laced on her sturdy riding sandals.
She made her way downstairs to an interior garden, where Leda was waiting for her.
“Penelope,” Leda sighed, standing to embrace her.
Penelope rested her chin on her aunt’s shoulder, squeezing her arms tight around Leda.
“You don’t have to go so soon you know,” Leda said, stepping back slightly.
“I do. My sister needs me,” Penelope admitted.
Leda caressed a strand of Penelope’s hair behind her ear. “You’re going to make a fine queen one day. Remember what I told you, alright?”
“Of course, Aunt Leda,” Penelope smiled.
Leda released Penelope’s hands and smiled warmly one last time, before Penelope made her way toward the front gate.
When she arrived, she found her copper mare saddled and ready but also Odysseus and his friends preparing to leave.
She was a little saddened to know that he would be sailing back across the Mediterranean. She composed herself and continued walking towards her mare. “Headed back for Ithaca?” she asked.
“Unfortunately not,” Penelope thought she heard Eurylochus, the tall one from the night before, mutter.
“Hey, be happy for him,” Polites retourted, backhanding Eurylochus’ arm.
“No, lady Penelope,” Odysseus said, sauntering over to her, “The representatives of my house and I will be accompanying you to your side of Sparta.”
Penelope tried to contain her excitement. “Why? I thought you were here to court Helen.”
Odysseus stood beside her mare and offered her a tanned hand. “Let’s face it, I never had a shot with Helen. I’m not important enough. Also I arranged with your father, who was feeling quite antsy about you returning all by yourself, that my men and I would offer our protection for your journey.”
Penelope took his hand and boosted herself off the ground and onto her horse. “My father has little reason to worry. It’s barely a day's travel and a route I’ve taken many times.”
“Well we are here whether you like it or not, just Penelope,” Odysseus said, eyes squinting as the morning sun struck them.
He was about to turn to his own horse, when Penelope squeezed the hand she was still holding onto.
Odysseus turned back and looked at where their hands were joined before looking back up at her, his brown eye a radiant auburn and his blue a dazzling drop of ocean.
“I’m glad and grateful you're not going back to Ithaca just yet,” she said, quietly.
Odysseus smiled and dropped her hand.
“I don’t know how you’re going to sleep though,” Penelope called over her shoulder, “Northern Sparta is just as dull as Southern.”
Odysseus laughed and mounted his white stallion, walking them up to Penelope. “I’m sure I’ll find some way to manage, my lady.”
“I’m technically a Princess of Sparta,” Penelope said, before trotting out of the palace.
From the balcony, Helen -who had probably just awoken- waved to her passing cousin.
Penelope smiled up and blew her friend a kiss. As Penelope led her caravan through the streets of Sparta, she took one last look at the Citadel and a final glimpse of Helen’s golden waves.
Following the Eurotas River, the companions took a break for lunch.
Penelope dismounted from her mare and splashed river water across her face, smoothing the wisps that had escaped her braid.
Odysseus came up beside her and dipped his water skin into the river.
“Can’t stay away from me long,” Penelope mused.
“I can’t help it. You’re just so interesting to be around,” Odysseus replied.
“You really are a charmer aren’t you,” Penelope smiled, looking up at the clouds.
“Only when I’m around charming people.” Odysseus shrugged and bumped shoulders with her.
She shook her head.
It wouldn’t be so bad to marry a man like him.
His eyes were still on her, warmly heating the side of her face.
“It’s impolite to stare, you know,” she smirked.
“Strange, I thought we were supposed to admire nature’s beauty,” Odysseus smiled.
“Well then, I’m admiring your smile. It’s quite infectious,” Penelope retorted.
Odysseus grinned wider and titled his head up to the sun. “This a good view?”
Penelope chuckled. “What was that song you were singing last night?”
“Just a little tune I made up,” he shrugged.
“Is it completed?”
“I’ve got the chorus down,” Odysseus said, shifting his weight.
“Will you sing it?”
“No,” Odysseus answered, playfully crossing his arms.
“Why not?” Penelope asked.
“Because it’s meant for night,” Odysseus replied walking back to his horse.
“You can be quite impossible, just Odysseus,” Penelope called after him, walking to her own mount.
“And you are silver tongued, just Penelope.”
The group arrived in Icarius’ state close to dusk. The markets were beginning to close, but many shopkeepers stopped they’re routines to wave at their eldest princess. Penelope was much beloved by the people of her father’s territory.
The guards to the house dipped their heads to the princess and her fellow travellers and closed the gates behind them.
Iphthime, Penelope’s sister, was waiting for them in the front courtyard.
Penelope dismounted her mare and passed the reins to a stable hand, before embracing her little sister. “I hope you weren’t too lonely yesterday,” Penelope whispered into her sister’s black hair.
“I’m happy you’re home,” Iphthime said, quietly into Penelope’s shoulder.
The little girl struggled with being alone and being in unfamiliar places. Penelope sometimes worried that Iphthime would never leave Sparta, but she also knew that Iphthime was only ten and the death of their mother had hit her hard.
“You must be Princess Iphthime,” Odysseus said, coming to crouch down to the girl’s grey eye level.
Iphthime clung to her sister’s silk a bit tighter.
Odysseus noticed and looked up at Penelope, who nodded for him to continue. “Your sister told me a lot about you. She said you were just like Athena.”
Iphthime smiled shyly, moving slightly behind her sister’s leg.
“Athena gave me something to give to you,” Odysseus continued, reaching into his cloak and pulling out an owl feather.
Iphthime reached out her hand and Odysseus placed the feather on her palm.
“I will say this, you are pleasantly more quiet than her,” Odysseus smiled.
Iphthime giggled and Penelope smiled warmly.
“Have you had something to eat yet?” she asked her sister.
Iphthime shook her head. “The nurses said I had to wait until you were home.”
“Well,” Penelope said, taking her sister’s hand, “Let’s get you some supper.” Penelope turned around and motioned for Odysseus and his men to follow them inside.
Agaidai House was much smaller than the Spartan Citadel, but lovely enough. There was a great outdoor dining space surrounded in lush greenery. One could almost forget that they were still in Sparta. The house was encased in gardens, fountains, and bathing pools. Asterodia had brought in many of her nymph styles to the home in order to make it a perfect sanctuary for her daughters. Towards the back of the house was Icarius’ domain. There was a well sized track and plenty of sparring targets.
Tonight the dining table was packed with guests. Iphthime stayed quiet but did laugh along with her sister at Polites’ stories.
“There was this one time when the trio of us were playing Discus and Odysseus went to catch a throw I had made, and our beloved king tripped over his own feet,” Polites recalled.
Eurylochus snorted into his wine. “I remember that. You toppled over and rolled down the hill like you were the disk,” he laughed, clapping Odysseus on the back.
Odysseus’ cheeks were a warm pink as he shook his head and swirled his cup. “I was trying to lace up my sandals carefully, but someone,” he said, eying Polites, “Was pressuring me to hurry up.”
“Are you the type of king to bend to every whim?” Penelope asked.
“I am the type of king who will always be there for the people I care about,” Odysseus replied.
Eurylochus rolled his eyes, “Leave it to our Odysseus to turn an embarrassment into an endearing quality.”
Penelope ignored Eurylochus’ jest and smiled at Odysseus.
He smiled back and before he took another drink, mouthed, “infectious.”
As the cheery conversation winded to a close, Penelope took Iphthime upstairs to her apartments. While Penelope brushed out her sister’s rich black hair, Iphthime asked, “Are you going to marry that man?”
“What makes you say that, sweet girl?” Penelope asked.
“Why else would you bring him into our home?”
Penelope sighed, “I might. He’s good, Iphthime. A marriage with him would be more pleasurable than one with any Spartan.”
“You’d leave me?” the little girl asked.
“Not like mother,” Penelope said, wrapping her arms around her sister. “I’d only be a boat trip away and I’d write to you every day. You’ll have to do the same thing one day.”
Iphthime sniffled and twisted around to curl into her sister.
Penelope cuddled her sister close and sang, “I’ll still make the storm clouds cry for you. I’ll capture wind and sky for you.”
It was a lullaby that their mother used to sing to them. The melody alway calmed Iphthime to sleep.
Once her sister was well asleep, Penelope ventured to one of the smaller gardens. “Great minds think alike,” she said as Odysseus came into view.
“Out of all the gardens, how did you know I’d choose this one?” he asked.
“Well it’s the only one with an olive tree and I believe I’m owed a song,” Penelope replied, sitting next to him and gesturing to the tree.
“So impatient, just Penelope. Are you sure your sister is alright with you being out here?” Odysseus asked.
“Yes. You needn’t worry about her. She’s fast asleep,” Penelope replied.
“She seems like a good confidante,” Odysseus remarked.
“She is. Who’s your most trusted companion?” Penelope asked.
“Argos, my dog,” Odysseus answered.
Penelope bursted into laughter.
“What?” Odysseus demanded.
“Nothing,” Penelope smiled, “It was just an unexpected answer. I would have assumed Eurylochus or Polites.”
“They are good companions, but Argos beats them,” Odysseus shrugged.
“Do you take him hunting?” Penelope asked.
“Often. He’s also an impressive sheep herder,” Odysseus smiled.
“How are you liking it here?” Penelope asked.
He sighed and looked up into the tree canopy. “It’s better than the Citadel, but still no Ithaca.”
Penelope eased closer to him. “You didn’t have to come. It would have been perfectly understandable if you went home.”
“Your company is just as lovely,” Odysseus assured her.
Penelope smiled and let her hand hover over his.
He turned his wrist over and laced his fingers in with hers.
“How did you get Tyndareus to let you come with me?” she asked.
“I told him that I intend to marry you and that he shall still have my alliance and warriors through the Agaidai line, should he ever be in need of it.” Odysseus explained.
“Do you truly want to marry me?” Penelope asked.
It would be so easy to be married to him.
“I do. I’ve enjoyed getting to know you. I find you a very dear friend,” Odysseus said, brushing his thumb over her knuckles.
“We’ve only known each other for two days,” Penelope sighed.
“And I’ve never fallen for someone so quickly,” Odysseus admitted.
Penelope looked into his blue and brown eyes. They were filled with an overwhelming amount of adoration.
He took in a shaky breath before singing, “When the day sleeps, I’ll be waiting by the olive tree. All of me wants to be next to you. When the stars shine, then it's our time at the olive tree. Come with me love.” His eyes flicked to her lips and he leaned forward.
“I have a plan,” Penelope started.
Odysseus abruptly leaned back and pulled his hand from hers, wiping it over his face.
“Stay here for a week and if we still feel like this,” Penelope said, using a hand to gesture between the two of them, “Then you can race my father and we’ll see what happens after.”
“Deal, just Penelope,” Odysseus said.
“That was a lovely song, by the way,” she said.
“Thank you,” Odysseus smiled, “It has a pretty important muse.”
Penelope blushed then.
He kept his eyes on her and let his smile soften.
“You should get some sleep and I should make sure Iphthime doesn’t need anything,” Penelope said.
“Until tomorrow night then,” Odysseus said, standing and offering her his hand.
“Or we could try conversing in the day,” Penelope said, taking his hand. His muscles flexed as he pulled her to her feet and she let her hand linger in his.
“No, night is our time,” Odysseus smirked.
“We’re going to get very little sleep then,” Penelope called over her shoulder, as she began to make her way back to the apartments.
“All you need is a taste of island life. You can sleep all day if you wanted,” Odysseus retorted.
“Then let us hope we don’t grow to despise each other,” Penelope laughed.