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Life on Ogygia was boring. Same breezy waves, always calm and quietly rustling along the shore, same sun, bright and yellow, same warm sand on the beach, same forest, bursting with fruits and flowers, same river, always clean, streaming in the exact same place as it was thousands years ago. And Calypso was stuck in that cycle of same, lifeless days, weaving all day long inside her small house, sometimes walking around, picking fruits and talking with animals and birds. So when waves brought a body of a mortal, it was something new, something that awakened so much feelings inside her.
At first Calypso thought he was dead – all pale, with numerous scars against his skin, and bleeding from the wound in his torso. She wanted to bury the body and even started to dig a hole in the sand, but she had not seen a real human for years, and curiosity had won, so she sat near him, looking at that face, bruised, but still beautiful, sunken cheeks, golden messy hair, short beard. She touched his shoulder carefully, and suddenly his lips opened, and he wheezed a single word.
"Penelope."
Calypso gasped in happiness. Alive, breathing human on an island: she dreamt of that moment for decades, and she can't let him go.
She took him inside, cured his wounds with magic and gave him new clothes, leaving only an old sword hanging from his belt. She couldn't stop looking into his face, seeking for the signs of consciousness, but he was still, breathing deeply in his sleep. She was more like exploring him– noticing every little detail, every scar, and every bruise, and birth marks, wondering who could him be and how did he got there.
He woke up after an hour – firstly he didn't notice her, trying to put all together.
"Morning, sleepyhead", she said. He turned to her, eyes full of fear, and jumped from the bed, immediately drawing a sword.
"What is that? Where am I?"
"You washed up on my island", she said with a smile, "put that thing away, I won't harm you"
He lowered a sword, looking around warily, tensed as a string.
"You will be here for... Some time. I would say... For forever."
She laid on a stomach, still smiling and waving her legs in the air.
"No, no!", he screamed, "I need to get to Ithaca, now!"
He ran out of the house, heading to the shore, but stopped when water started to reach his knees. Calypso magically appeared near, hugging him from behind.
"You can't go, silly! You're mine now!"
He turned and pushed her away in anger.
"No I am not! I am a married man!"
Calypso laughed, her voice echoed across the beach, and turned to him, showing yellow, glowing eyes.
"Do you know who are talking to?", she laughed, putting a palm on his cheek, and his eyes turned wider as he realised. "I am Calypso, goddess of that island, and I order you to be my man."
He sighed, placing his sword back in the sheath, but she still could feel the fear inside him. She switched her eyes back to human-like, putting on a smile again and grabbed his hands.
"I didn't catch your name"
"My name is Odysseus", he answered.
Calypso stared at him for a moment. She knew that name very well – that was impossible to not know it, actually. In front of her was standing no other than a king of Ithaca, the one who won in Trojan war, and, most importantly, Athena's pet. Calypso tried very hard to hold the careless look.
"I'll call you Ody. C'mon. I'll show you the island."
***
For first months, he was cautious, always tense and cold when she was nearby. Most of the time he would wander aimlessly around the island, exploring the place. Calypso watched him from the distance– by herself, or with a spell, studying his habits and behaviour.
Every day Odysseus went to the beach and trained, fighting with shadows, moving fast and elegant, his sword cut through the air. He made himself a bow from a long curved branch, and made arrows with a sharped stone tip. He shooted them in the nearest trees, or made himself small targets like pieces of wood or large rocks. He could keep himself busy with that all day long, not finding anything other to do, and after Calypso would find him sleeping in the calming shade of trees.
He often came to the mountains and climbed on a ledge hanging over the sea. Here the waves were more rough than on the other side of the island. They reached high and touched the bottom of the cliff, then with loud, whooshing sound went back to the ocean. Calypso watched him when he was standing here and staring into the water, quitely crying. He was a sailor, so she didn't wonder that he missed his ship, the feeling of waves and all that things, but still was afraid that he would fall or try to run away. First times, she tried to talk to him him, but he always went away from her, so she gave up and appeared only to take him in the house if the rain started.
Sometimes he talked with himself or some person he imagined to be talking with– especially in the evenings, sitting by the fireplace on the shore. Calypso learnt all the names and who they are– his comrades, his friends, Polites and Eurylochus, his wife, Penelope and son, Telemachus, his sister Ctimene and mother, who he called just "mom". She sometimes joined him in that evenings– but Odysseus would only talk about how he misses his wife. Calypso was angry at him for that. Why won't he love her? That women was not that good as her. She is a mortal, not a goddess. She doesn't have such an island, she doesn't have powers like her. She wasn't even that pretty as Calypso, she was sure.
"Yes, maybe she doesn't have all this", Odysseus said every time, "but she is my wife and mother of my child."
"We can have a child together", Calypso said.
"I don't want a new child. I want to get back to Telemachus."
And then he kept silent.
Calypso tried to earn his love with gifts. She bought him clothes, and jewelry, and sweets, but all of this was left untouched by him. He even didn't thank her: just left these things or broke them. What an ungrateful man, she thought, but kept trying. It all stopped when she saw her latest gift in the sand– a long cloak, weaved and embroidered by her, ripped in pieces. She was deeply offended by that, and had not spoken with him for a week. He was happy with that.
She didn't force him into bed at first. She played with his hair, or lied at his chest, or placed her head on his thighs, but he didn't do anything back, nor participated. She kissed his body, but if she got up to his lips, he turned his head off. She spared him, so if he said no (which was most of the times she offered anything), she gave in. She was trying to be merciful – at least for some time.
First time she put a spell on him was after three months passed. That night, she was so lonely, and she couldn't sleep, only fantasizing about him, so she couldn't resist. And that night, he was a perfect lover for her, finally answered her kisses, held her and whispered to her ear. Happiness that filled her was closer to an euphoria. Finally, he loved her back – even if it wasn't his choice, she felt like it was. Like she was loved, she was adorn, like someone cared about her. And when Calypso fell asleep in his arms, she thought, maybe it would work. That maybe he could love her back. In the morning, when the spell worn off, he wept and cried like a lonely dog. Of course she was wrong. Of course he wouldn't.
Years went by, and she started to think he almost became fine with her presence. He didn't shudder when she appeared near him with magic, he wasn't tense and scared around her anymore, and he didn't resist her touch. He stopped training on the beach and he didn't talk anymore with himself near fire. And he talked less about his homeland, even though his visits to the cliff didn't stop. He started eating in her house, the food she made with magic, the food that tasted always the same. Sometimes they even had a somewhat meaningful dialogue. Calypso would tell him stories about her time on the island, or ramble about what she did today. And he listened: indulgent gaze from the other side of the table, and in return told her something from his journey– without details, but she still felt like the happiest being on Earth.
Odysseus started to whittle small wooden figurines from branches with his old sword. The sword became dull, because it was unused for a long time, so she brought him a little knife. He sat at the shore, completely unbothered by anything, and beautiful things came out of his hands: animals, fish, monsters, humans. Calypso was amazed by that: a mortal with a gift of creating, and used to sit with him, with her head placed carefully against his shoulder, and watch. He used to say those are toys for Telemachus, but she took them and placed around the house. One day he presented Calypso a small figure of herself. It was simple, not as detailed as other ones, but it was still the nicest thing he has done to her. She was so happy, that she spent the whole day near him, putting countless kisses on his face. He was, as always, annoyed.
She thought, he is finally going to be with her. She started to drag him into bed more often, putting spell after spell. And he was not showing anything after that: nor disgust, nor pleasure. So she tried to not cast a spell one time.
Now it wasn't lust, it was fear in his eyes. He cried, as she was over him, untying his cloth.
"Please, let me go." he begged. "please, I don't want it."
"Don't be stubborn, my dear", she murmured, as she kissed his neck. "I will please you", not as a request, but a statement, an order. He turned his head away.
They did spent the night together, as Calypso insisted, but he was crying and shaking the whole time. She did her thing, but still was angry at him.
When she woke up, he wasn't nearby. Calypso found him on a cliff, standing at the ledge. It was raining today, grey dark clouds are covering the sky and the water rushes higher than average. The water touches his feet and then roars back into the sea, but he doesn't react.
"Odysseys?", she called and got no answer.
She climbed uphill, and from that length she could hear him speaking.
"Stop, please."
"What's wrong, Ody?", she reaches to him. "come back inside."
"Stop, stop!", he screams and covers his ears, tears run from his face.
"Odysseus."
She didn't notice herself crying at first. The world she built, the bond she was trying to make all these years is now breaking. It felt like she is losing everything.
"No, no!" he screams again, shaking his head.
This finally makes her move. She suddenly rushes to him, like if she wouldn't grab him now, he will disappear.
He reaches his hand up to the sky.
"Athena!" he calls desperately, and falls to his knees.
Calypso catches him right there and drags away from the ledge. Now he is here. With her. Safe.
She holds him like her life depends on it.
***
She takes- more like drags- him inside, and he cries on her shoulder. She tries to calm him down, but he still sobs until finally falls asleep.
"Why can't you let me die?" that was the first phrase she heard from him when he woke up.
"I can't. I love you. I don't want you to die."
"I just want to be with them", he spoke. His voice cracked in the middle of the phrase.
"With who?"
"With the ones I betrayed. The ones I sacrificed for... For nothing. They are dead. All dead."
"Ody, I know you are struggling..."
"No, you don't! Don't try to say you understand me! You know nothing about me, you know nothing I've been through!", he screamed, "I am here as your prisoner, and you say you understand me! We are not equal if you didn't notice!"
"I am a prisoner here, too!", she blurted out, immediately regretting it.
"What?" he turned his head to her.
"I was casted here by gods because I chose titans' side at war", she explained, "and I can't go! I am tied to that island!"
He sighed.
"Than why won't you let me run away? You know how it is."
"Because if you go, I would be alone again! I was here for hundred years, without anyone! I can't let you go, because I don't want to feel this way again!"
She took a breath and wiped a tear from her eye.
"I just wanted to be... Loved. And I thought that you can love me too. I wish you would, for once, maybe, just say..."
"I love you."
"You do?" Calypso didn't believe her ears. She looked at Odysseus with hope.
"But not in the way that you want me to."
That phrase was like a lightning bolt straight to her head. In her chest something was breaking, really, really, painfully.
"You know, I am sorry. I am sorry if I were too bad for you.", she said more quietly, "but I did it all for love."
Odysseus walked away from the house, and Calypso thought she noticed that he was shaking.
As soon he left, she slid down the wall and cried on the floor.
He didn't come that night.
***
The next day, someone appeared on her island – she felt their presence as soon as she woke up. She climbed from the wet, crumpled bed sheets and went outside in the forest. Here someone was waiting: a man, with wings from his head, metal helmet, bright violet cloack and with a strange rod in his hands.
Hermes.
As soon she appeared, he was furious. He shouted at her for long time. Something about Odysseus, and Gods, and how she disappointed him, and everything. She mostly ignored his angry tirade, and only heard one thing. Odysseus can go. And she can't keep him anymore. Calypso remained silent the whole time. Something in her chest that yesterday broke, was now completely gone. She saw Hermes off to Odysseus and went to the house. She put a spell– more like as a habit– and watched, as they builded the raft together. She never saw Odysseus smile that much.
They finished at the evening. The sail was fluttering in the wind and the raft was ready to go. She stood aside while they were discussing the way and packing goods she gave, and for the last time watched Odysseus, all shiny and smiley, laughing at Hermes' jokes. He was happy without her, and a bitter feeling was building up in her throat. He is going to see his family that he craved to meet, and she is left with nothing. All she had was him.
Once they were ready, she carefully approached, not knowing what to say.
"Are you sure you want to leave?", she finally said, searching for signs of doubt in his eyes. There were none.
"Yes. I am sure", he answered. She looked down.
"Thank you. For everything."
He hugged her by the shoulder, like a friend, and she pressed herself against him. He pulled himself out of her embrace.
"Alright."
He climbed on a raft and lifted an oar from the ground. Hermes rose into the air and pushed the end of the mast. The raft sailed from the shore.
"I'm coming, Ithaca!", he screamed, as the raft was gaining speed.
Calypso wanted to stop him- reverse the flow, send a storm, but she could do nothing. She just watched them go, until they turned into a tiny dot in the horizon.
Ogygia was, as always, the same. Waves quietly rushed along the shore, sun went down and lighted the sky bright yellow, the leaves in the grove were calmingly rustling, and late birds sang their song. It truly was paradise: for others, of course. But for Calypso it was her prison.