Chapter Text
Oh, I know the world’s not always pretty
And there are days that seem to last for way too long
Odysseus was stuck in a dream. A far too familiar dream. In this re-occurring dream of his, a man with a kind smile and sun-kissed skin beckons him over from beneath a large olive tree. His hand stretched out towards him, Holding out a sword's sheath. He looks down to check for his sword, almost on instinct. It lies in his left hand, blood dripping from it's edges. He tries throwing it away but it’s stuck in his hand, he can’t unclasp his grip on the sword. From a distance an infant’s cries can be heard, they seem to grow louder as if the one causing that noise is coming closer.
Oh, I know that the world can get real lonely
And there are times you feel too hopeless to go on
He soon realizes he’s been standing beneath the shade of a ruined building, a temple to be more precise, though he can’t seem to make out just which deity it was dedicated too. In an attempt to avoid confrontation with the approaching creature he considers moving towards the familiar looking man before deciding if the threat is serious or avoidable. But as he looks back in that person's direction, he realizes that the man is gone. All that is left in his place is a war helmet and an eerily familiar bloodied ring.
The sight makes his heart clench, something akin to panic surging up his throat. He attempts to run towards the olive tree but he can’t move, his thoughts are running amok but none of them seem to make any sense. He can faintly make out numerous voices saying something over and over again but with growing frustration he realizes that he can’t decipher just exactly 'what' they are saying. Something was particularly wrong with his left hand, not only was he unable to move it up to raise the sword in a defensive position, but it also felt as if the sword was being weighed down.
He looks down to find the head of the sword lodged deep into the chest of a man. A man lying on top of another 4 men. His hands start to tremble, it was as if he had been viewing everything with a tunnel vision because suddenly his line of sight expands. There aren’t just five men lying dead close by, there are many. Bodies strewn all over the place, blood coating his hands, his clothes, he could even feel some of it dripping down from his face.
There’s a small noise from behind, his heartbeat is frantic. He turns around only to be grabbed harshly by his shoulders, the man with sun kissed skin and a kind smile staring at him with a manic look, no sight of the said welcoming smile visible on his distorted features now. “why did you let the cyclops live when ruthlessness is mercy?” He speaks, multiple voices echoing his words. Odysseus can’t respond, his whole body feels stiff. He can do nothing other than watch as the man falls to his knees, crying at his feet. Asking him why. Again. And again. And yet again. There are screams, there are cries of utter anguish. The noises of the infant’s cries draw closer. There’s blood everywhere, the man—Polites, is now lying at his feet, eyes glassy as they stare at him, his torso impaled on Odysseus' sword. He can’t scream, he can’t move. He could've sworn that the sword had been in his left hand barely minutes ago...
He doesn’t know how long he was in there, just hearing the screams and staring at the corpse of Polites until the voices changed their chants, drawing closer and growing louder as they yelled his name. He wanted to scream at them to stop. To apologize but he couldn’t. Polites’ corpse moved it’s lips in a gruesome manner, sporadically twitching purely white eyes and blood dripping from the corner of his mouth“—dysseus”
Something changed. The corpses started to scatter, walking away with oddly angled limbs and torn appendages, heads lolling off the bodies that had slashes across their necks. Polites turned his head towards him, giving him a wide smile adorned with bloodied razor sharp teeth ."Wake up, Scion of Ithaca.", in a voice that certainly didn't sound like his. It was way too deep, like the roar of waves as they had crashed onto his fleet during Posiedon's attack. Could it all mean—
“—TAIN. CAPTAIN! ODYSSEUS??!”
Odysseus jolts awake, heaving heavily, sweat coating his entire face. A concerned looking Eurylochus stands nearby, his hand on Odysseus’ shoulder. “Captain…? Are you...*a pause* is....everything alright?” he asked in a hesitant tone, lowering his eyes to hide his fear. The sight irked Odysseus more than he cared to admit. Why was he afraid? He hadn't seen any of the horrors Odysseus was forced to undergo. Had he been plagued by such dreams too?
What happened to his closest confidante? Is that really a question to be asked from one who had just been to the Underworld? Just how far had he strayed from their bond to have him address him like a concerned stranger instead of...instead of...—?
He stares at the wall for a minute, somehow he ended up losing his own stream of thoughts. The fatigue from traversing the Netherworld was far more dangerous than he had considered. He contemplated how he should respond before choosing to go with the option of not replying. He didn’t know why he was so irked by Eurylochus’s concern. There's a searing pain in his head.
Is he growing soft to those screams? Is he forgetting just how miserable one ends after taking the path of empathy? They were seasoned warriors. Returning from a war that had snatched over a decade from them. Did he really think a nightmare was worthy of that question? And that name, that damned name keep resurfacing but why?.
Polites had been one of the higher ranking officials, he was sure of it. And he had been...too soft hearted. That's all he could remember. Then why is he leading the charge of aggression within those dreams?
He's snapped out of his thoughts by a consolatory pat on his shoulder as Eurylochus gives him a worried look.Odysseus just silently stares at his arm before shrugging off Eurylochus’s hand and walking out of his cabin, towards the farther end of the ship.
The name ‘Polites’ brought out too far many questions, even while he was down there—
Dread filled his mind as he recalled what had unfolded in the Underworld.
There were too many tangents when it came to Polites, ones he feared he may have to wait for a long while to get the answers of.
**Third Pov** (memory 1)
Look deep inside and there you go!
Hanging in your heart, I’m always there!
Polites was gazing at the shoreline of Troy as their ships finally set sail on their homeward bound course. A thick cloud of smoke surrounded the once mighty city that now laid in ashes, making his heart clench, knowing all too well that intentional or not, he did contribute to its massacre from the side-lines. His thoughts kept straying back to the numerous innocent citizens that were slaughtered without reason.
He had never really been a big fan of the gore and bloodshed to begin with, but even that aside, it seemed pointless and absolutely ruthless to drag the citizens of the kingdom into the midst of the battlefield when their war was with the royalty …and the soldiers to an extent, but the commoners weren’t supposed to be involved in any of that….logically, but who’d dare say that to the especially if it was a strategic sneak attack then wasn’t it supposed to decrease the number of casualties? Polites never could get the sense behind whatever dumb theoretics Agamemnon applied about honour and whatnot. It all seemed so pointless in the end.
Not to mention the amount of blood they got onto their hands…he sure wonders if any of them would ever get to make it past the fields of Asphodel with these lives burdening their sins …that being said if they didn’t end up in Tartarus instead.
So when you need a friend or when you’re scared
Just let me be your light!
He sighs. That aside, at least he wasn’t in the very core of all that bloodshed. If his mental state was so irked by the thoughts of what went behind those unshakable city walls then he can’t even begin to wonder just how much more concerning that would’ve been for someone who hatched out the entire plan for that operation. His eyes dart towards a closed cabin door. Someone who insists otherwise but bears a look of absolute exhaustion when confronted with topics of the war.
When life gets hard or when you’re lost in the dark
Let me be your Light!
The cabin door remained shut for an entire day and a half. Polites was more than just slightly concerned. Something had happened when Odysseus was in the palace he, was sure of it. Eurylochus had informed him how he had looked anguished to the degree that he didn’t utter a single word while boarding the returning ships. And to think that the entire reason he plotted that massacre was for the sake of this very return journey…just didn’t sit quite well with Polites. On the eve of the second day of their journey, he finally steeled his resolve and knocked on the cabin door.
“Captain?” He called. “Odysseus.. is everything alright?”. No answer. Polites sighs, that was expected. Odysseus is pretty stubborn when it comes to suppressing his emotions. He glares at the door, pushing up the tip of his glasses ‘it is going to be a long day’ he thought to himself as he took seat right outside the cabin door, resting his head on the doors frame because, grouchy as he might be, even the captain will need to take washroom breaks occasionally.
Two hours into his incredible plan and Polites is bored. Okay, he’s done playing nice now. With newfound resolve, he’s just about to get back up and bang on the door until Odysseus obliges and opens up and that honestly seemed like a much more viable strategy.
He giving himself a pat on the shoulder but before he could put it into action, the cabin door flies open, causing him to unceremoniously fall back into the room with a tired but amused-looking Odysseus staring down at him. “Polites?” he asks with a bemused look on his face. Polites scowls at him. “I was starting to assume you need more counselling in regards to maintaining your bowel system instead of some cheering up after being honed up in your cabin for longer than an entire day Captain” he comments. Odysseus chuckles at that “Apologies for worrying you my friend, I was just… lost in a few thoughts” his gaze grows a bit unfocused by the time he ends his statement.
“Ody…” Polites softly nudges him “You do know that no matter what, you still got me, Right?”. Odysseus gives him a small smile, offering his hand to Polites. “Maybe try saying that when you aren’t sprawled on the floor with your specs askew and I might just take it more seriously” he teased. Polites scoffs, gripping his hand to pull himself back up. “Anyways.” He crossed his arms, staring at Odysseus expectantly. “Spill. What’s the reason for your worries”
Odysseus shrugged. His mind ridden with thoughts about Astyanax, the way the kid had stared at him before being lulled to sleep by his humming as he took him to the balcony and—
Polites gives him a narrowed look before leaning back against the doorframe. “Aw come on! Why are you so serious all the time?”
Odysseus gives him a wry look.
Polites takes off his glasses and puffs up his cheeks.
“Hey, look at me, I’m the captain! Alright, listen up!”
Odysseus blinks. “….what”
“That’s what you sound like!”
“I don’t sound like that!”
”Do so!”
”Do not!”
“….sure”
Odysseus rolls his eyes. “Ha-ha” he mutters in a dry tone.
Polites gives him a small smile. “Remember the time when we used to spend our days running around and exploring that forest near the wheat mills? How we’d venture deeper each time, Searching far and wide for the largest threat”.
Odysseus was about to interject but Polites continues “Okay okay fine, you would run and I would follow” He rolls his eyes as Odysseus finally grins, albeit it resembles a grimace more.
“Oh I surely remember all that thrill and fun. Those days were golden”. He sighs.
Polites casually pulls out the sword from below Odysseus’ cabin bed making him scowl “Hey put that ba—“
“And remember when we found that giant boar’s den?” Polites interrupts him, placing the sword in it’s hilt and then throwing it under the trapdoor hidden beneath the dirty yellow rug in his cabin.
Odysseus gives him a glare at being cut off mid sentence before sighing “Oh as if I could ever forget that, It was terrifying and exhilarating at the same time" As flashbacks from those days take over his thoughts his guilt seemed to receed just a bit.
“We were rather young! And I was oh so scared!
I saw him lunge and I stared!”
Polites dramatically says in a sing-song voice, flailing his arms in an overly exaggerated way while Odysseus gave him a deadpan look.
“Um yea no, you tried to move, but your muscles just wouldn’t comply” He reminded him, flicking Polites on his forehead as him gave him a goofy look.
“….Same thing..? Ow! That was uncalled for!” Polites states before pulling off the crumpled bedcovers from Ody’s bunk-bed and starting to tidy them up.
“But then you jump in, blocking his advance! You forced the boar down, and later you even graciously allowed me to pelt it with tiny pebbles as a form of revenge” he finishes, taking a fighting stace before reenacting comically inaccurate motions of stomping on something as he recalled the memory. Odysseus laughs.
“Oh those good old days.” He sighs, a small smile on his face as he stares at his palms, clenching and unclenching them. “I only took the blow so you could live” he quietly adds.
And hey there friend, don’t forget
That even when the sun has set hanging in your heart
I’m always there!
Polites gives him a knowing smile. “I know that well enough, After all I am the most fun person you ever had the pleasure of knowing but hey! At least give me some credit for handling to evade the scolding on both of our behalf!” He retorts. Odysseus smirks. “Ah yes, the most daring feat of all. Facing my mother’s wrath”
And hey there friend, can’t you see?
No matter what, it’s you and me!
Polites shivers in response. “Anticlea is terrifying when she’s angry you’ve agreed on that on multiple occasions yourself. Don’t back out from your words now.” Odysseus huffs before sighing. A longing look in his eyes. “Honestly, there’s nothing I wouldn’t trade to be scolded by her this very instant” Polites gives his shoulder a slight nudge, plopping down on his bed right next to him. “Just a while more my friend. Penelope would be so happy. Though I surely feel that Telemachus would be much happier if he were to meet his father with a smile on his face rather than with pain in his eyes” he adds.
So when you need a hand or when you’re scared
Just let me be your light!
Odysseus closes his eyes for a second before responding with a genuine smile. “Thank you…Polites…” Polites holds onto his hands, smiling back. “I’ll take the blow just so you’d live too you know”
“Polites—"
“As for your poor bowels…”
Let’s just say his specs ended up stuck on the chandelier of Odysseus’ cabin soon enough.
That even when the sun has set hanging in your heart I’m always there!
Just let me be your light.