Chapter Text
“Kyriakos, what are you hiding in your cloak?”
“J-just me…?”
Sensing a fib from his one child who truly wasn’t any good at lying, Odysseus perked up. He pulled his attention away from the spirited debate between a few of local men who were arguing about where to dig a new well. Glancing over to the nearby doorway to the open hall, he saw Penelope addressing Kyriakos, her hands resting on her hips. Their eight year old younger son had his cloak entirely wrapped around him. Rainwater dripped from its hem onto the stones.
Odysseus could see the boy was shivering. It was midwinter, and it had been raining on and off for the past three days. Fires roared in the braziers and hearths, but there was still a chill in the air. He needed to dry off and warm up. Odysseus focused and noticed what Penelope had. Kyr’s silhouette was too bulky; he was certainly holding something in his arms.
Penelope peeled back cloak. Her smile became softer. Reaching out, she brushed the boy’s wet hair away from his forehead. “Kyr…”
He looked up at her, pleading with his eyes, and she guided him out of the courtyard’s covered edge and into the palace proper.
Standing, Odysseus inclined his head toward the debaters. “You’ll have to excuse me.”
“But the well—”
“Are we digging it today?” he asked with a meaningful glance toward the rain falling in the courtyard beyond the rooftop eaves. When his question was met with perturbed silence and a couple half-hearted blusters, he inclined his head to the gathered men with a victorious smile and left to follow his wife and son. Conversation started back up immediately. Just because he wasn’t there to help make the decision didn’t mean they couldn’t argue about it.
He left the cool courtyard, hurrying to catch up with Penelope and Kyr. “Wait, wait, I want to know what we’re smuggling home today, too.”
“Can’t stand to be left out, can you?” Penelope said, casting a smirk at him over her shoulder.
Odysseus smiled mischievously and put his hands on Kyr’s shoulders as he caught up, gently pulling him to a halt. “I don’t think always wanting to be around my family is a bad thing. It’s the opposite, actually.” He grinned down Kyr as the boy looked up at him. “So…?”
“He was all alone,” Kyr said, letting his cloak fall open to reveal one of the smallest goats that Odysseus had ever seen. And he had seen quite a few while living on an island where goats were one of their main livestock animals. They were easy to raise among the rocky hills. This newborn was a day old, if that, and it had been born out of Ithaca’s main kidding season. “It was too cold for him out there.”
“Mmm,” Odysseus said, nodding, though he was instantly concerned. The little creature looked weak and not just because it was damp. Black and white with a bright star on its forehead, its eyes shone with life but its body was frail.
“Maybe his mom lost him in the rain,” Kyr said. He held the kid to his chest and stroked the star on its forehead. “I thought maybe I could warm him up and feed him and keep an eye on him, at least until I can find her.”
Odysseus and Penelope exchanged a quick glance, speaking with their eyes. The odds of the kid surviving were low. It had been abandoned by its mother, meaning the doe didn’t think it was going to make it or that it wasn’t worth the energy to try to save. But the way Kyr was looking at the goat…it tugged at Odysseus’ heartstrings. But he also didn’t want Kyr’s own heart to be broken later. The world could be especially cruel to young things.
Odysseus knelt in front of Kyr and held out his hands. Kyr gave him the kid. The newborn was even lighter than Odysseus had expected. But it stretched out its stick-like legs and gave a faint bleat.
“He’s small, but I can wrap him up and keep the blankets warm by the fire,” Kyr said, probably seeing the doubt hiding in their expressions. “I know he’s puny but I could try.”
Odysseus drew in a deep breath. “I don’t think it’s going to—”
“Of course you can try,” Penelope broke in, stepping forward to peel the wet cloak off their son’s shoulders. “He’ll need milk, so you or Telemachus will have to milk one of the goats or a cow. However, you have to accept that nature will have its way.”
“Yes, Mom,” Kyr said, his expression brightening. He hugged her, getting her dress damp with rainwater. “Sorry.”
“It’s all right,” she said, reaching out to brush her fingers through his hair. Taking the kid from Odysseus, she fluffed its fur with the edge of her himation. It bleated again, more stubborn this time. She gave him back to Kyr.
“Try not to let your sister see it,” Odysseus said, then immediately regretted it as a familiar voice piped from behind him.
“See what?” Adara asked. The six-year-old raced up and jumped onto Odysseus’ back since he was still kneeling, looping her arms around his neck. “What is it?” She nuzzled her forehead against the back of his head.
Odysseus stood, catching her legs and supporting her. “So very nosy, Dare.”
“She gets that honest,” Penelope mused.
“Yep,” Dare said.
Argos trotted up and sat beside Penelope as Telemachus approached. Odysseus had thought that Adara was with her tutor and that Telemachus was reading, but it seemed no one was where he thought they were. Speaking of, Kyriakos was supposed to have been with a tutor as well. He must have sneaked away. He preferred being outdoors anyways, even in poor weather.
“What’ve you got there, Kyr?” Tel asked, ruffling Argos’ ears.
Kyr looked up at Odysseus for permission, which was reluctantly given. Odysseus didn’t want Dare to get attached, but that seemed inevitable at this point. Kyr stopped trying to hide the kid with his arm.
Adara let out a little excited gasp and hugged Odysseus’ neck. “A baby! It’s so cute. Did you see how cute it is, Dad?”
“I did, cricket,” he said.
“Hey there, that’s unexpected,” Telemachus said. He played with one of the kid’s large ears and glanced at Odysseus. His eldest obviously saw the same things that he and Penelope had. Tel half-smiled and then turned his attention back to his brother. “Handsome little thing. Is it a girl or a boy?”
“A boy,” Kyr said, “Can you help me find a goat to milk, Tel? I need to get him some food.”
“Sure,” Telemachus said, nodding. “We should probably let Mom warm him up by the fire while we go do that. Actually…” He frowned at Kyriakos. “You should go warm up, too, we don’t want you to catch a cold. And take the goat with you. I can get milk for it by myself.”
Kyr looked like he might protest but he eventually nodded. “Thanks, Telemachus.”
“I want to help, please,” Adara said, tapping Odysseus’ cheek with her fingers. “Put me down.”
Odysseus carefully grabbed one of her hands with his and lowered her to the ground, bending somewhat so the distance was shorter. She darted over to Kyr, slipping between him and Penelope, her two-toned eyes enormous with instant adoration for the tiny creature.
Odysseus sighed. That was the opposite of what he wanted. He hoped this wasn’t some kind of divine lesson for his children about how they shouldn’t be so emotional. Odysseus felt like Athena at least had gotten past some of that outside of the battlefield…but there were other gods. And not all of them were particularly fond of his family or the choices he had made.
As the younger pair followed Penelope to go find a fire, Odysseus caught Telemachus’ elbow. “We need to manage everyone’s expectations,” he told his eldest quietly, “I don’t have high hopes for this goat, and I’m worried about your brother and sister.”
Telemachus clasped his arm back and gave an encouraging squeeze. “I’ll have enough hope for both of us, then.” He smiled and left, ever the optimist. Odysseus wished he still had that kind of starry-eyed positivity, but then again, maybe he never had, not really. It was something that he cherished about Telemachus.
He willed his son to be right about this. Kyriakos wanted this goat to survive, and Odysseus would do what he could to help. Maybe it would be enough if they all worked together.