Chapter Text
The firelight flickered as Odysseus watched the logs burn. There wasn't much to worry about tonight. Normally he’d go to bed, make sure he's rested for the coming battles, but tonight was not a normal night. He looked up at the stars overhead and idly recalled their names.
Cygnus, Capricorn, Pegasus,
all hung in the black sky, barely moving. He wouldn't want to be immortalized as a constellation when he died. It seemed rather boring, sitting still so long. Did they even have thoughts or feelings as they drifted aimlessly? If not, that seemed rather a mercy.
He decided to watch the other Achaeans, and his eyes drifted towards Diomedes, butchering a deer.
Diomedes always interested Odysseus.
Particularly that chest he kept in his tent. Odysseus had never seen inside it, nobody but Diomedes had, as far as Odysseus was aware.
And if he didn't know something, he had to fix that.
This was his chance.
Odysseus crept towards the Argive tents, as quietly as he could. If there was anything he prided himself on, that was his stealth and planning. Now, this particular plan wasn't as well thought out as it might be. But it was an impulsive decision and Odysseus hadn't put too much consideration into a few minor details, such as what he would do if Diomedes came back to the tent early.
He’d cross that bridge if he came to it.
He might've been relying on the if a tad heavily.
Arriving at the tent he went fast as he could, which, to be fair, depended on the day.
He scanned the room for the chest, Diomedes allegedly had a habit of rearranging the furniture.
Locating the olive wood box, Odysseus quickly pried it open. It was stiff, with a heavy lid, but Diomedes hadn't bothered with a lock. Finally the top slid off and Odysseus looked over the contents to discover it was just… stuff. There were polished stones, seashells, and various pieces of jewelry.
It was a surprisingly uninteresting collection.
Suddenly, he noticed movement just outside and froze. Diomedes had come back. Odysseus didn't exactly think before he dove into the chest, just big enough for him to curl up in. But that wouldn't be much good without something to cover him. The lid. Laying with one end propped up by the chest. If he could just slide that over the top….
He must have been making a racket trying to accomplish that because Diomedes paused as he started to come in.
“Is someone there?”
Before Odysseus could stop himself he blurted out “Nobody! Nobody's here!” That ended up slightly muffled as he clamped his hand over his mouth.
Diomedes sighed, and stepped inside.
“Odysseus…”
He said like a parent chiding their child.
“That answer might work for a drunk cyclops, but I can tell it's you.”
Slowly Odysseus poked his head out and glared.
But Diomedes seemed to have more pressing questions. “Now what are you doing in there?”
Well lying wasn't going to get him anywhere
“... I wanted to know what was in it.”
“Why didn't you just ask?”
Odysseus struggled to find an answer. The truth was, he'd never really considered it.
It was like Diomedes read his mind, because after a few moments of awkward silence: “you didn't think to ask, did you?”
Odysseus shook his head.
“How about I show you my stuff then? Nobody's asked me and I really do want to talk about my shells.”
Odysseus quietly laughed. “Guess I'm Nobody