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Chapter Text

Odysseus walked through the darkened halls of the palace. So many years away from home! Yet the layout remained familiar.

The suitors had been here for years, but they had not learned to navigate the palace by starlight alone. For them, it had become a labyrinth from which the only escape was death, and death had indeed come for them.

One hundred and eight dead bodies lay strewn through the rooms and corridors. Odysseus had counted them as living men after arriving disguised as a beggar, and had counted them all again as corpses.

Only seventy had died by Odysseus's hands. The rest were dead all the same, and the question of who had killed them was the first of several that needed to be answered.

Odysseus came to a halt just outside the royal chambers, in a room lit by several torches. A young woman sat in front of the doors, cleaning her unusual, double-ended spear. She glanced up for only a moment.

"Ah, there you are."

She continued to wipe blood from her spear with a rag. Odysseus took a few moments to study her after only having caught glimpses earlier. She had a lean and muscular build, largely covered by gleaming silvery armor. Dark brown hair flowed out from beneath her helmet. Behind her, a split cape flared out like wings. Her outfit was clearly modeled after Athena's armor, though there were subtle differences. She remained focused on the spear resting across her lap.

"Shouldn't you be more on guard, considering how many men I just killed?"

The woman shrugged. "You may be dangerous, but you're not a threat to those I care about; I saw where your ire was directed. The enemy of my enemies is a friend, and all that. Why are you here?"

Odysseus was taken aback by her confident dismissal, and yet she was correct. "Is Penelope inside?"

"Who is asking?"

Answering questions with more questions could be a fun game, but this wasn't the time for it. "I am Odysseus, and this is my home. Who are you, that you would guard Penelope as you do?"

At this, the woman finally looked up. "I have heard much of Odysseus. You don't exactly look like what I expected."

Odysseus gave her a weak smile. "I suppose I don't. It has been a very long journey to get home, and it has changed me in ways I did not expect. Again, who are you?"

"My name is Cassiphone."

A memory flashed through Odysseus's mind. "Quite a coincidence. That's what Penelope and I planned to name our first child, if we had a daughter."

"I know. That's why I chose it. The other meaning happened to be apt, in a way."

Odysseus froze. "What did you do to Telemachus?"

Cassiphone blinked in surprise. "I haven't heard that name in a very long time; perhaps you really are the Odysseus I've been waiting for. None of the suitors knew that name. I'm sure they would have called me by it had they heard of it. If you would care for me more than they did, I would ask that you not use that name for me."

"Why would I call you Telemachus? You don't look like you're my son."

"You never had a son!" Cassiphone snapped. She sighed, then continued more gently. "I understand why you thought you did, when you first saw me. But you were wrong. Almost as soon as I could talk, I told Penelope who I really was. I've been Cassiphone ever since. Dionysus was gracious enough to show me the herbs to take to make my body develop into who I wanted to be."

There was a long silence as Odysseus considered this before speaking again. "For so many years I have wanted nothing more than to return to the people I loved the most: my wife and child. If that child is you, I am glad to finally meet you. Your appearance doesn't change how I feel."

Cassiphone smiled. "I'm glad to hear it. I'll admit, as much as I wanted you to come home, I wasn't sure how you'd handle having a daughter and not a son."

"We wouldn't have had a name picked out for a daughter before you were born if we didn't want to have one."

Cassiphone set her spear aside and stood, then stepped forward to wrap her arms around Odysseus. Without hesitation, Odysseus returned the embrace, holding her as she quietly wept in relief.

Odysseus suddenly chortled. "I might owe a siren an apology for insisting I didn't have a daughter, if I hadn't killed her. I guess she was right after all."

Cassiphone leaned back and wiped at her eyes. "You killed a siren over that?"

"No, there was a whole pack that wanted to eat us. That was just part of her attempt at deception. As I said, it's been a long and difficult journey."

"So it would seem. I would like to hear about it, when you are ready, but I imagine you are eager to see Penelope again first."

Odysseus nodded. "I very much am. Would you tell her that I'm home?"

"Of course. I know she has been waiting for you." Cassiphone put a hand on the door handle, then stopped and looked back at Odysseus with a smile. "You know, the phrase 'like father, like son' has never been so accurate and so wrong at the same time."

Odysseus laughed. It was good to be able to laugh freely again after so many years of suffering. "Go on. I'll be there in a minute."

Chapter Text

Penelope turned when she heard the door to her room start to open again. Her breath caught; would this be the moment she had waited so many years for?

A woman slipped inside and gently closed the door behind herself.

She was a bit shorter than Penelope. Her dark hair was matted and roughly tied back; it looked like it might be shoulder-length if left loose. Her clothing was faded and tattered. She was streaked with dirt and blood, both fresh and old; Penelope couldn't tell how much had come from the suitors and how much had been the woman's own. Penelope had seen beggars in better condition than this, and yet the woman stood proudly, looking back at her.

Penelope could make out the shape of a powerful, muscular body beneath all the grime and torn clothing. Her heart skipped a beat. This woman desperately needed a long bath, and perhaps someone to help her with it. Her vows weren't all that serious, were they?

Right. Odysseus.

Penelope forced away that line of thought. What had come over her? She had never reacted that way to anyone, not in twenty years! She tried to bring her emotions back under control.

The stranger continued to stare at her without moving. Penelope finally broke the silence.

"I was told to expect Odysseus. You are not him."

The woman gave her a small nod. "You're right; I am not him. But I am Odysseus."

Penelope blinked. That made no sense; this woman seemed to contradict herself from one breath to the next. "Who are you, really?"

"I have been Odysseus all my life. I was once your Odysseus, and for many years I have longed to see you again, Penelope."

Cassiphone had clearly said that Odysseus had returned, and she wouldn't have lied, not about this. But perhaps she hadn't seen the same person that Penelope did. "This must be some sort of trick, a god in disguise."

"If there is a trick by the gods, it has been played on me, not on you. I have been changed both within and without; I am no longer the kind and gentle husband you once knew."

Penelope shook her head in disbelief. "No. This is impossible. You look nothing like my husband!"

The woman smiled gently at her. "More impossible than our daughter?"

Penelope froze. That was a good point; Cassiphone had proven that human bodies were more malleable than most people thought. But she had always been clear about who she was; Odysseus had never said anything like that. Had he? Such things weren't a common topic of conversation, so perhaps it had never come up.

And the more Penelope looked at this stranger, the more familiar she seemed. While unmistakably feminine, her stature, and build, and facial structure, and mannerisms all did resemble those of Odysseus.

"If you truly are the Odysseus I knew, surely you remember where we first met."

The woman's gaze grew distant. "Of course. We were in the garden of your father's house in Sparta. I had gone there to join the other suitors of Helen, but I soon realized you were far more clever than her, and so more beautiful in my eyes."

Penelope felt herself blush at the flattery. "That's true, though many know of it. What did we name our child?"

"We finally decided on Cassiphone for our daughter only a week before she was born. If we had had a son instead, we would have called him Telemachus."

Not many would have known that. But she had just talked with Cassiphone, and could have learned it from her; it still wasn't proof. Penelope could think of one more thing that might be that proof.

"Would you do me a favor, then? I have shared this bed with no one but my husband. Since you insist you are not him, I will need a new one. You look quite strong, so would you pick this one up and carry it away? It should be no difficult task."

"How could you ask me that, Penelope?" The woman glared at her, livid. "I made that bed myself; one corner is carved from a tree still rooted in the ground. It was a symbol of our unshakeable love. There is no way to move the bed without destroying it. Do you not know what that means? I left here with six hundred men, and I sacrificed every one of their lives for the chance to return to you! The thought of your love was the only thing that kept me going for so many years! How could you discard that so casually?"

She fell to her knees and wept into her hands. The movement shifted her tunic to reveal a faded, twisting scar on the side of one knee. A scar that Penelope recognized immediately; she had traced it with her fingers so many times.

"It really is you." Penelope's voice was barely more than a whisper. She stepped closer and offered a hand. "That was only a test, and you passed, Odysseus. I remember building this room of the palace with you. How we laid the floor together around a living tree before you carved it into part of our bed. We wanted this room to be made by our hands alone, and for us alone. Not even Cassiphone knows about that."

"A painful test, but a clever one." Odysseus wiped at her eyes, then let Penelope help her back to her feet. "So, what happens now? I am home, but I am not the person you knew; I am not the person you were waiting for."

"Perhaps not, but I want to know you. Someday I will want to hear all of what my Odysseus has been through, though it sounds as though that may not be pleasant to recall. For now, I just want to know why your appearance has changed so."

"That is... reasonable," Odysseus sighed. "For years, I was trapped on an island by the goddess Calypso. I hated her for that, and for other reasons. She said that I had formed incorrectly, and that she would fix me. It was a long and unpleasant process. Every day, I woke up to find myself changed a little bit more. My own existence started to feel wrong; I could not keep a stable sense of who I was. I hated her for this, too."

Penelope's heart ached for the man she loved. Or was it the woman she loved? She wasn't sure, but it didn't matter. "Is there any chance the gods could change you back into a more familiar shape?"

Odysseus slowly shook her head. "There's an incorrect assumption in your question. I had a lot of time to think while on that island. I finally asked myself why I was so upset with what Calypso was doing. The only honest answer I could give was that she hadn't asked me. The changes were much more bearable after that."

"You... wanted to be like this?"

Odysseus looked down at the floor. "I had never really thought about it before. I wasn't given the chance to. Growing up, I was told I was a boy, that I would become a man, that I would take after my father. Looking back, I was never all that excited about any of that. Now that I've been forced to confront it, I think this is who I always wanted to be, even if I wasn't aware of it. While I can't forgive Calypso for many of the things she did, I don't think I would have realized this without her, or been able to become myself."

Penelope considered this. Perhaps there had been signs, ones too subtle to notice at the time. Odysseus hadn't shown clear discomfort with anything masculine, but as she had said, she hadn't ever seemed to enjoy it either.

"So, what does this mean for us? You said that you're not my husband anymore. Do you intend to find a husband of your own?" Penelope hesitated for a moment; the next part felt strange to say out loud. "Or are you my wife now?"

Odysseus didn't look up. "You're the only person I've wanted, if you would still have me. Meeting Cassiphone has given me a little hope that, despite how different I am from the last time you saw me, you might fall in love with me again."

Penelope had never seen Odysseus look so uncertain, so vulnerable. So afraid of how she might respond.

She hated it.

Penelope pressed her fingertips under Odysseus' chin and tilted her head up to look into her eyes. "Do you want me to call you my wife?"

The faintest nod against her fingers was all Penelope needed. The dirt, the sweat, the tears, the blood; none of that mattered anymore. She cupped Odysseus' face in her hands and leaned in until their lips met. The kiss was not forceful or intense, though she was sure such kisses would come later. Right now, Odysseus needed comfort, and acceptance, and support, and Penelope wanted her to understand that she would give all that to her.

After a few moments, Odysseus wrapped her arms around Penelope's waist and melted against her. Penelope continued to hold the kiss; Odysseus' lips were softer than she remembered, her cheeks smooth beneath Penelope's palms. What might the rest of her feel like now? Penelope felt her face flush at the thought; this time, she did not try to push it away. This was her wife, and she could have such thoughts about her without hesitation.

When the kiss finally broke, Penelope wiped away the fresh tears that had overflowed Odysseus' eyes. "I cannot say I will fall in love with you again, because that implies that I could ever fall out of love with you. No matter how long it's been, no matter what you look like or who you become, you are mine, and I will always love you all the same."

Odysseus leaned her head against Penelope's chest and held her tighter. "You're sure you're alright with me being like this?"

"My love, I am more than alright with it. I am embarrassed to admit what I thought when I first saw you; perhaps my heart recognized you before my mind did. For now, let's draw a bath and get you cleaned up, and then I want to rediscover every part of you."

Odysseus nodded but made no move to let go. Penelope was in no hurry to make her move. Her Odysseus was finally home, and while this wasn't exactly the Odysseus she had expected, she couldn't be happier.