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Ithaca. Why couldn’t he stop scanning the coast in his mind? He’d gotten humiliated there. Tortured by an accursed mortal with no respect for the gods. Poseidon spat on the ground.
He had recovered quickly under Apollo’s care. The blow to his pride, however, would not heal quite so quickly. Or so fully. Olympus, he wasn’t sure if it would ever close up. Especially not with Zeus forcing it back open every few days. His pride, along with the sense of failure regarding his son, tore at his mind again. Once more his mind drifted back to the coast, mentally scanning for any sort of activity. Maybe he was a bit curious how far the mortal’s pride would take him. Maybe he just wanted to sense his dead body the moment it hit the water. Whatever. Athena and Zeus were ensuring that he didn’t get his hands on the mortal.
A struggle caught his attention. He closed his eyes, sensing the scene through the water. The vision was blurry, but he could hear what was happening.
“Not so mighty now, Little Wolf?” a strangely smooth voice called out.
A scream rent the sea.
Poseidon’s brow furrowed as he focused on the scene. Hazy figures came into view. He could make out a group of men holding a smaller man down in the shallow surf. The closest man raised a knife and slashed at the man – boy, really, who was writhing in the shallow water.
“Who’s gonna save you, little prince?” taunted the man. “Your royal mama? The sea?”
He threw back his head and roared with laughter. “Your father? Oh yes, he’ll come traipsing right back here to save your sorry hide!”
Poseidon’s knuckles whitened as he gripped the side of his throne. This was the prince. He would be fully justified in letting the accursed mortal’s bloodline end here. And yet . . . something about the situation made his stomach twist. He frowned, pressing a hand to his temple as he reentered the scene. Just in time to see two knives plunge into the boy’s head. Poseidon jerked upright, tremors of rage running through him. They just gouged his eyes. Olympus, they just gouged them out. His mind rang with the boy’s screams. After a few moments the screams faded into whimpers, incoherent words filling his mind. Poseidon opened his eyes, slowly withdrawing his consciousness from the situation. That was when he said it. When the boy cried out the only word that suddenly, inexplicably cut him to his core.
“Dad! Dad, help me!”
The words were cut off by his screams as the daggers were ripped from his head. Incandescent fury filled Poseidon. He wasn’t even sure how he got to the surface. Everything was a blur. The next thing he knew he was breathing heavily, the bodies of the attackers rising and falling softly with the surf. He rushed over to the boy, lifting him into his arms.
“I got you. I got you.”
The boy screamed, trying to push him away. “Let me go! Stop it!”
Poseidon held him tightly as he thrashed. He raised his voice so the boy could hear him. “Kid, listen to me, you’re safe now. They’re gone. Hush, you’re safe.”
The boy froze, covering his eyes with his hands. After a moment he lifted one of his hands slowly, trembling with pain. Poseidon inclined his head to meet it. The boy rested the hand on his cheek, a sob escaping his throat.
“Dad? Dad is it you?”
“Kid, I’m sorry but I’m . . . I’m not him.”
The boy recoiled his hand as if he’d burned him. “Then who – who are you?”
“I’m . . .” He struggled for a moment for the right words. “I’m someone who knows your Dad.”
The boy covered his face with his hands, trembling from the pain.
“After all these years, why does he have to come back now?”
Poseidon froze. “Aren’t you excited to meet him?”
The boy’s expression was that of dread.
“He’s going to be ashamed of me.”
Poseidon’s heart twisted. “What?”
“Can’t you see? I wasn’t strong enough!” The boy clenched his teeth in an effort not to cry. “He’s coming home expecting a brave prince, a strong heir . . . not a crippled wolf pup!”
His lip trembled from pain and grief and he covered his face. “He’ll never love me. He won’t, he won’t!”
Poseidon drew him closer, drawing his hands away.
“Listen here kid, that’s not what a dad’s like. He’ll take you back. No matter what. That’s that.”
He adjusted the boy’s tunic, applying careful pressure to his injuries.
Another sob tore from the boy. “How can you be so sure?”
“Trust me. I know.”
After a moment’s hesitation he ripped off part of his tunic and drew some condensation from the air into it.
“I’m gonna clean you up a bit, kid. I’ll be careful around your eyes, I promise.”
The boy cringed as the cloth met his skin. Poseidon tried to be gentle, not wanting to irritate his injuries more. Olympus, it’d had been a long time since he’d done anything like this. Soon the bloodstains were gone.
The sobs the boy had been holding in finally came. He tightened his arms around the god’s chest.
“It hurts, it hurts so much!” he cried.
Poseidon cradled the boy against himself in response, the power of the sea humming through him. Almost like a lullaby.
“I’ll hold you as long as you need me to, kid.”
And he did.
***
Hours passed. Poseidon had long since moved to the shade of a rock outcropping as the sun was irritating to the boy’s eyes. He knelt on the ground, still cradling the boy in his arms. The air was silent but for the waves and the boy’s groans of pain. He considered walking the boy back to the palace but figured it would send the wrong message. His brother and niece might attack him themselves if they saw him approach the accursed mortal. Besides, there was nothing much to be done for his injuries. Apollo wasn’t an option. Any interference in the mortal’s world beyond what he’d already done was sure to incur the wrath of the Fates.
He returned to the present when the boy coughed. Olympus, his throat was probably as dry as driftwood. Trying not to jostle the boy too much, he retrieved the water skin from the boy’s waist and opened it. He directed condensation from the air to fill it before raising it to the boy’s lips.
“Come on kid, this should help.”
The boy swallowed and grimaced.
“Could we talk some?” he asked.
There was a pleading in his voice that tore at Poseidon’s heart. He paused.
“I want you to drink some more first, ok?”
The boy nodded and accepted another drink. After a moment he cleared his throat.
“What is your name?”
Poseidon froze. He mentally racked through some of his old nicknames, finally settling on one that might suffice. “Sei. You can call me Sei.”
“Sei?”
“Yeah?”
“Thank you for taking care of me.”
“Mh.”
Poseidon’s legs were falling asleep from kneeling for so long. He stood slowly, doing his best to avoid disturbing the boy. Despite his best efforts the boy’s head shifted, and he bit his lip to keep from crying out.
“Y’know kid, I’d take the pain myself if I could.”
“Really?” the boy asked in a faint voice.
“I think any dad would.”
“My Dad . . . what is he like?”
A bitter laugh escaped Poseidon. “Well, he’s incredibly stubborn, I’ll give him that. He wouldn’t let anything stop him from getting back to you and your Mom.”
“Really?”
“Really.”
“Can I meet him?”
“He’ll come soon enough.”
Silence hung for a few moments.
“Sei?”
“Yeah?” Poseidon shifted slightly. He wasn’t too comfortable with the direction the conversation was heading.
“I’m adrift without my sight.” The boy’s voice held a tremor.
Poseidon was silent for a few moments before speaking.
“Tell me, what can you sense right now?”
The boy paused, focusing. “I can feel your arms. I can hear the waves and smell the breeze.”
“What else?”
“I can feel the wind. I can hear your voice, your humming a while ago.”
“Exactly.”
The boy sighed.
“I wish I could see what you look like.”
Poseidon paused for a moment. “You could, in a way.”
“Really?”
Poseidon took one of the boy’s hands and placed it against his forehead.
“You can get a sense of what I look like, kid.”
The boy hesitated. “It seems disrespectful . . .”
“Don’t worry, I won’t bite.”
Poseidon inclined his head, closing his eyes as the boy’s fingers brushed past them. The boy seemed like he was focusing intently on forming a mental picture. After a few moments a faint smile grew on his face.
“I see you.”
***
Odysseus’ feet pounded on the sand. His mind raced frantically. He’d only just returned to Ithaca and a sinking feeling was already in his stomach. He had entered the palace early that morning, entering his wife’s room by way of a password only they knew. Oh, that reunion had been sweet. Penelope had assured him that his son was safe on a diplomatic mission, set to return that evening. Given the stillness of the halls they had assumed the suitors were still sleeping in some corner of the vast halls. That assumption faded as the early afternoon came and went with no sign of them. Both Odysseus and his wife sensed that something sinister was afoot. An assassination attempt, perhaps. Odysseus slowed his steps as he approached the shore, searching the rocks for any sign of the suitors or his son. Nothing. He rounded a rock outcropping and his heart stopped. All too-familiar blue eyes met his.
It was Poseidon.
He had found him first.
Odysseus fought back revulsion as he saw the bloody mess that was left of his son’s eyes. His body was battered, hanging limply in the god’s grip. Was he even alive? A guttural scream tore from Odysseus’ throat.
“What have you done to him? What have you done?!”
***
Poseidon met the accursed mortal’s eyes, noting the desperate, grief-stricken light in them. The irony of the situation was not lost on him. The accursed mortal took a step forward, his fists trembling.
“What have you done to him? What have you done?!”
Anger surged through Poseidon. If he’d done it, why in Olympus would he casually be sitting on the beach afterwards? He opened his mouth to retort as much when the boy cried out.
“He saved me! The suitors did this, not him!”
***
Odysseus froze. If Poseidon really had saved him, it could only be so he could kill him in front of him. His mouth went dry. His only comfort was that the boy didn’t seem to understand what was at stake. Not yet, at least.
“Poseidon . . .”
Telemachus stirred. “Poseidon’s here?”
He seemed to tighten his hold around the god’s chest. Odysseus’ heart pounded.
“Telemachus . . .”
“Dad?” the boy called.
Odysseus’ heart leapt. “Yes son, it’s me.”
A strange understanding passed between him and Poseidon, an agreement to spare the boy the gravity of the situation. Odysseus motioned to Telemachus and pointed at a place on the beach. He pointed at his chest and motioned in Poseidon’s direction, a lump growing in his throat. Poseidon nodded. The boy and him spoke for a few moments, too softly for Odysseus to hear. He moved forward, placing the boy on his feet by Odysseus. He embraced his son, tears spilling from his eyes.
“My son, sweetest joy I know!”
“Dad! You’re finally here!”
Odysseus cupped the boy’s face in his hands, his heart breaking at the damage they’d done to it.
“I love you and I am so proud of you.”
The boy smiled faintly.
“Dad?”
“Yes?”
“Can I see what you look like?”
Odysseus froze, uncomprehending, until the boy extended his hand. Then he guided the boy’s hand to his cheek. The boy felt over his face lightly, his own face glowing.
“You look just like Mom said you did.”
A low humming filled the air and Odysseus tensed. He glanced over at Poseidon, who was watching the exchange from the edge of the surf. Patience was not a virtue of his.
“Oh, that’s just Sei humming. He’s a friend,” said Telemachus.
“He told you that he was a friend?” Odysseus muttered icily.
“No, but he saved me and took care of me, so I think of him as a friend.”
Odysseus’ eyes flickered back to Poseidon. The humming had started to take on an edge of menace. He only had a few more seconds. He hugged his son again, trying his best to sound nonchalant.
“Your friend and I need to work something out.”
“Dad? Where are you going? Don’t leave me!”
The panic in his voice wrenched Odysseus’ heart. He held the boy out by the shoulders.
“Stay here son. You’ll be safe.”
The boy’s voice rose in panic. “Dad? Sei? Don’t leave me! Please don’t!”
Odysseus closed his heart as best he could to his son’s voice. He took a deep breath and looked up at Poseidon. He felt a grief mingled with acceptance course through him. He’d beaten him. He’d made it home. But even he knew he couldn’t run forever. Poseidon gestured towards the water and he followed. Soon the sound of the waves blocked out Telemachus’ cries.
***
During this whole wordless exchange, Telemachus was in utter confusion. Apparently his friend, his Dad, and Poseidon were all present. He heard his Dad’s voice call to him and felt Sei’s arms tense.
“All right kid, I’m going to set you down now.”
“Is Poseidon actually here?” Telemachus asked quietly.
“Hm? Yes, he’s here.”
“Isn’t he dangerous?”
“He won’t hurt you, kid. I’m going to set you down now. Remember what I told you about your senses.”
Telemachus hugged him tightly. “Thank you. I don’t know what I would have done without you.”
And then suddenly there was his Dad, embracing him, only to leave a moment later. He couldn’t hear Sei anymore either. Crushing loneliness and confusion filled him. His throat burned as he cried out for them.
***
Poseidon was lost in his own thoughts. Given the fact that he’d interacted with the accursed mortal without interference, he assumed that Zeus and Athena were not attentive at the moment. It made sense, he figured, they had seen him reunite with his wife and assumed that all was well. In truth, he really had only meant to speak with the accursed mortal separately. Nothing more, as the boy needed him. Yet, he found a deep satisfaction in seeing the accursed mortal understand his own helplessness. It was nice to see him respect his authority for once. Nothing wrong with having some fun with him.
He paused in his stride and the accursed mortal stopped as well. The water lapped at their ankles. He met his eyes and detected only a sense of great weariness and grief.
Poseidon grinned a smile that was all teeth.
“You have two death options. I’ll even let you choose.”
The accursed mortal’s face paled at the word “choose.”
Poseidon seized his face, forcing him to meet his eyes.
“Here’s the first one: I kill you in the slowest, most painful ways I can conceive of. You’d be amazed at some of the toxins I’ve discovered from sea creatures. I found some of that out the hard way. If it can hurt me I wonder what it would do to mortal flesh . . .”
He saw the flicker of fear the accursed mortal was desperately trying to hide. Poseidon glanced lazily over at the boy before meeting his gaze again. “Or there’s him . . .”
The accursed mortal’s eyes blazed. “Touch him and you’ll face a new breed of ruthlessness, I swear it. Take me, torture me all you care to, you sick bastard, but leave the boy alone.”
Poseidon had predicted an answer of that sort. The boy would be taken care of. Good. He smiled grimly.
“You didn’t let me finish. The second option is to comfort that boy and be the best Dad you can be for him. Thanatos will finish you off himself.”
Utter confusion flashed in the mortal’s eyes for a moment before fading to a sort of amusement.
“That’s your fakest proposal yet.”
“It’s not a trap.”
“Your entire personality is a trap,” the mortal grimaced.
“Choose.”
“The latter.”
Poseidon released him, throwing him to the side. The mortal stood, dashing water from his eyes.
“I once asked if you could learn to forgive.”
Poseidon regarded him icily. “This isn’t forgiveness. Trust me, if it wasn’t for him –“ he gestured in the direction of the boy, “I’d carry out my threats. But he needs you.”
The mortal blinked, uncomprehending.
Poseidon strode through the water, leaving him in his wake. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to say my goodbye to him.”
He heard a frantic splashing noise behind him and allowed himself a grim smile.
He stepped onto the beach next to the boy.
“Well, I’m back.”
“Sei? Where’s my Dad?”
“He’s coming to take you home. I just came to say goodbye.”
The boy caught hold of his outstretched hand and squeezed it, smiling through the pain.
“Thank you, Sei.”
“Mh. Don’t forget what I told you.”
“I won’t,” the boy said.
***
Odysseus watched in disbelief as the god’s form dissipated into mist. His son was left laying on the beach. He was broken. But he was alive. He was alive. Years of pent up grief and longing welled up in him. His throat tightened as he took the boy’s hand.
“Dad?” Telemachus said softly.
And the tears came.
***
Telemachus’ recognized the path back to his home. He’d walked it a thousand times. Never before had he walked it with his Dad before. He could feel his strong arm guiding him. The smell of the smoke from the hall told him he was almost home. Grief prickled in his stomach at the thought of his Mom seeing him like this.
“Dad?”
“Yes, my son?”
“Could you let Mom know what happened before she sees me like this?”
“Of course.” He felt gentle hands guide him to a bench. Based on the proximity to the palace, he assumed it was one of the benches in the garden.
“I’ll be back in a moment,” Odysseus said, squeezing his hand before he left.
Several minutes passed before Telemachus heard his Mom’s voice behind him.
“Telemachus?” she asked softly.
“Mom,” he whispered, “I missed you.”
And just like that he was caught up in her embrace.
“I’m sorry Mom! I should have never left you for that mission, I – I –“
“Hush,” she whispered. She cupped his face in her hands, rubbing his cheek softly.
“You are the bravest son I could ask for. My beautiful Telemachus.”
A sob escaped Telemachus’ throat. In a moment he felt the embrace of both of his parents, one on either side of him. An overwhelming sense of peace descended on him. It was a wholeness that was fully new to him. And he knew, with a surety that transcended sight, that everything would be made right again.