Work Text:
When Telemachus woke up it was breakfast time, a moment he recently started hating. It had been two days since the suitors arrived. A hundred and eight men asking for the queen’s hand in marriage, wanting to take Odysseus' place at the throne and in the lives of his family.
When his mother was present the suitors would act nice, like they would never hurt a fly. They would praise and compliment her constantly and give her all kinds of gifts, all in an attempt to win her over. But as soon as she left the suitors would start acting like beasts, fighting between them, shouting, disrespecting the staff, eating and drinking everything they could find… Even Telemachus, the son of the woman they were trying to marry, wasn’t safe among them. It had only been two days but he had heard the comments they made when they didn’t know he was listening: “Sixteen years and still don't know how to hold a sword, pathetic.” “Do you think he weaves with his mother?” “He’s more suited to be a princess than a prince.” … and the laughs that followed them.
Penelope had already too much to deal with, ruling a kingdom and waiting for his husband’s return; she didn’t need to add dealing with the suitors to that list. That was why she wouldn’t show up very often. And that meant that normally Telemachus would have to encounter them alone, like today. He didn’t want Argos to accompany him in case the suitors tried hurting the dog, it was his only friend.
The plan for breakfast was simple: enter the room where they would be eating breakfast discreetly, grab something and return to his bedroom to eat. He doubted they would notice him, probably too caught up in their shit to care for anyone that wasn’t the queen.
The prince could hear their shouts from the halls and one thing was clear for him, they were fighting. Probably there wasn’t a reason, just fight for the sake of fighting. When he arrived at the dining room his suspicions were confirmed, there was a fight. A tall and buff suitor had knocked out another suitor and was standing proud in the middle of the room. Telemachus ignored the scene and hid behind a column, waiting for when they would be distracted to snatch some food.
“Someone more dares to defy me?” The winner asked, believing himself superior to the rest.
“I do.” Another suitor answered. He was still tall and clearly strong, though next to the other seemed kinda small. He also seemed young, not much older than Telemachus. Speaking of which, Telemachus didn’t know why but he found himself unable to look away from the upcoming fight now that the new contestant had appeared. The suitors started a chant of “Holy shit.” at the situation. He didn’t know who this man was, there were too many suitors and Telemachus tried to stay as far away as possible from them, but he had captured the prince’s eyes.
~~Why, when you see men fight
Does it look so horrible
Yet feel so right?
I shouldn’t watch this crap
That’s not who I am
But with this man
Damn~~
Telemachus' thoughts were conflicted. Meanwhile the others started fighting, the young suitor dodging perfectly the attack of the bigger suitor. After that the need to observe the battle won in Telemachus' head, his gaze fixed on one person only.
~~Hey, mister no-name man
So who might you be?
And could you fight for me?~~
His imagination started running wild, depicting sceneries where this suitor wouldn’t be fighting the others for his own ego but to defend Telemachus’ name. Imagined him dueling against anyone who made fun of him with hurtful comments.
~~And hey, could you face the crowd?
Could you be seen with me and still act proud?~~
Telemachus was no fool, he knew how relationships between two men were seen. He imagined the suitor accompanying him to the dining room, full of suitors like always, guiding him to the seat reserved for the king, which was now empty and which Telemachus would inherit one day, and taking the seat next to him, the queen’s one. All while wearing the same proud expression he had when he stepped in for the fight.
~~Hey, could you hold my hand?
And could you carry me through no man’s land?~~
The next scenes playing in his mind were of them walking around Ithaca while holding hands; followed by images of them exploring unknown places like the ones from the stories his mother told him.
~~It’s fine, if you don’t agree
But I would fight for you
If you would fight for me~~
The prince knew how his mother would react if he told her about these feelings; she would be worried about him being played with or ending up hurt, physically or mentally. And he imagined his father’s, if he ever returned, possible reaction, disappointed because his son had fallen for a person that partook in destroying the palace he built. However he would fight them if the suitor shared his feelings.
~~Let them drive us underground
I don’t care how far
You can set my broken bones and I know CPR~~
He could imagine both of them living adventures, picture the suitor tending his injuries and himself saving the other from drowning. His fantasies were interrupted by screams coming from the improvised battle ground. The man that filled his thoughts had knocked out his adversary and now was being tackled by other suitors, very likely friends from the defeated one.
~~Well, whoa, you can punch real good
You’ve lasted longer than I thought you would~~
That was the moment for Telemachus to leave, although his eyes stayed a little longer watching the suitor. Enough time for the other to catch a glimpse of him staring, with a probably stupid-looking face from all the fantasies, and a grin to form in his face, making Telemachus blush in the process. He grabbed the first thing he saw and rushed back to his room, the suitors' chants still audible in the halls.
~~So hey, mister no-name man
If some night you’re free
Wanna fight for me?
If you’re still alive~~
His mind was still stuck on the unknown suitor when he reached his bedroom. He opened the door and entered. "I would fight for you.” He sang as he closed the door and rested against it before sliding down to sit on the floor. “If you would fight for me.”
He was met with his best friend’s confused look. Telemachus reached out his arm and petted it. “There’s nothing to worry about, Argos. Maybe having a hundred and eight extra men living in our home is making me feel lonelier than I thought. At least, I’m glad to have you.”
While he ate his breakfast the suitor’s grin came back to his mind, making his blush again. Maybe the next time he sees the man he should try talking to him.