#Athena: Then why didn’t you ask me to help Penelope as well | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

buckleysjareau · 4 years ago

Note

So, for a prompt, how would you feel about the firefam meeting the BAU team?? Bc in my mind, Buck would get along shockingly well with Reid and Garcia while Eddie and Morgan just brood about their favorite ppl not paying attention to them.

omg yes!!! i love this prompt! the beginning is kind of dramatic but i wanted to give a reason for the bau to be there haha :) hope you like it!

The entirety of the one-eighteen had been on edge the entire week. Not only had their calls been emotionally and physically taxing, but Los Angeles seems to have found itself another serial bomber. According to Athena, the LAPD called in the FBI to help investigate after twists and turns and empty leads.

The reassurance from Athena that they’ve got Behavioral Analysts working hours upon hours with the police department to find the bomber did nothing for Buck’s nerves. It didn’t really do much for the team’s nerves, either. The whole team had been affected by the ladder truck bombing and though they know Freddie is locked away, trauma doesn’t let you think rationally sometimes. When they’re not out on calls, they’re hypervigilant. When they’re out on calls, they’re hypervigilant. At home, they’re either sleeping with one eye open or not at all.

Buck definitely wasn’t sleeping. He checks every possible location in his apartment where a bomb could be hidden before he leaves for work and as soon as he gets home. He sits awake on the couch when he should be sleeping, waits for a knock or a sound of someone leaving something outside of his door. He hasn’t opened his mail the entire week, just leaves it in his mailbox until his landlord has to check on him to see if he’s alive. He rushes to offer to clean the trucks before anyone else can just so he can check closely for a bomb.

Which is exactly what he’s doing when two men walk into the station. He hears Bobby greet them but doesn’t pay attention to the rest until his name is called. That makes his heart beat speed up quicker than the speed of a moving bullet.

When Buck slides himself out from under the truck - he revels in the fact that he can - his eyes widen when he notices the guns holstered on their sides and he’s terrified to find out what the FBI wanted him for.

“You must be Evan. I’m Agent Morgan with the FBI and this is Dr. Spencer Reid, we were wondering if we could ask you a couple of questions?”

��Buck. Just Buck.” He clears his throat. “Why?”

“Do you remember anything about the night Freddie Costas bombed the truck you were on?”

“Why are you asking? Why do you guys need to know what happened? I’m not the one that was targeted. Can’t you just watch the news report, I know it’s everywhere.” His voice is shaky, he knows he sounds paranoid and panicked but that didn’t matter. Why is the FBI asking him?

“We need more information from those involved with the bombings last ye-” Buck scoffs, cutting Dr. Reid off.

“Why ask me then? I wasn’t targeted, I wasn’t on that kid’s kill list, I was just in the wrong place at the wrong time. Is Freddie involved in this again somehow?”

“Buck, man, I know it’s gotta be tough to talk about it, this whole station was affected but you were there closest to him when you were trapped. Anything you can remember about that night could help.” Agent Morgan sighs. “Freddie Costas might have had a partner.”

Well fuck.

“Ask Bobby. He was the original target, he has a vendetta against Bobby.” Buck pushes passed the agents, practically shoving Dr. Reid in the process and he can hear the lecture Athena would give about disrespecting law enforcement.

He winces internally as he thinks about the lecture he’s about to get from his Captain. Great, this is fucking great.

Three days later of restless sleep and constant worrying, Buck gets a call from Bobby on his day off. His heart is in his throat as he answers.

The speed at which his entire body relaxes the second he hears they got her makes Buck dizzy, almost. His knees buckle, falling to his couch in shocked and relieved laughter. He listens as Bobby tells him that Freddie’s partner was a girlfriend who knew her way around making explosives and by Freddie’s orders, she had planned to send one to Bobby and Athena’s again and one to Buck’s for making Freddie’s sentence longer. The fact that he was actually targeted makes him feel a little sick to his stomach but he’s just so full of relief that it’s over again, he laughs.

He feels guilty for the way he’d treated the agents he spoke to. He goes over it in his head as he heads to Bobby’s for dinner after he’d gotten his first full night of sleep in weeks. He shoved a federal agent, cut them off, rolled his eyes. He’d acted like a child and though Bobby didn’t tell him that, he felt like he was being scolded by a father rather than lectured by his captain.

When he arrives at the Grant-Nash’s, Athena greets him at the door and takes the bottle of red wine from his hand with a smile. “Well you look more well rested than I’ve ever seen you, Buckaroo. How’re you doing?”

“Well I’m not crushed under a ladder truck or blown to-” He’s cut off by his own shock at seeing people he definitely didn’t know standing in the Grant-Nash’s living room. His eyes landed on the younger agent he wished he’d had a chance to apologize to not five minutes before. “Uh, hi?”

“Buck, these guys are from the Behavioral Analysis Unit of the FBI. I’m sure you remember Agent Morgan and Dr. Reid?”

Buck’s face flushes. “Uh, yeah, I do. Nice to see you again, agents. Sorry about the way I acted, truly. Lack of sleep does that to you, I guess.”

“There’s no need to be, there’s no hard feelings. We understand.” Dr. Reid smiles respectfully.

“Yeah, no need. The important thing is that we caught her and you can put this behind you again.” Morgan holds out a fist and Buck returns it to fist bump. “You can drop the title, by the way. It’s Derek.”

“Endearing as it is to see you guys bro out, I would like to get this party started.” A woman with dark hair chimes in as she grabs the bottle of wine that Buck brought. “Oh, and he brought the good stuff. Hello, I’m Emily Prentiss and you have good taste.”

Buck snorts as he shakes her hand. “Nice to meet you. Honored to have your approval.”

She’s about to respond before she’s cut off by a squeal. “Bucky!”

His entire face lights up as he turns towards the voice. “Christopher!”

“Mr Reid pulled a quarter out of my ear just like you can do! You’re both magic!” Buck lets out a startled laugh. “You also both know a lot of facts!”

“Oh, do we have another Boy Genius amongst us right now?” A blonde woman, who seems to embody sunshine, squeals from Buck’s right. “I’m Penelope Garcia, Garcia, PG, girl of your dreams, whatever you want.”

Buck already adores her attitude and vibe.

“Pretty Boy here’s got an IQ of 187, can read 20,000 words per minute, and has an eidetic memory. How about you, man?” Morgan pipes up.

Buck snorts. “I don’t know my IQ, I definitely can’t read that many words per minute, and I never claimed to be a genius. I just like to read, man. Random stuff in history, astrology, stuff Christopher’s into, philosophy-”

Reid’s eyebrows shoot up in interest. “Who’s your favorite philosopher?”

Thus, a conversation is started. Penelope joins in at the mention of Immanuel Kant and Buck is happy Athena invited them over before they left. He’s lost in a conversation and learning new things and more importantly, he’s made new connections for the day. Eddie joins when the conversation turns to Doctor Who, something that Buck never knew Eddie was into. When he leaves to talk to Aaron Hotchner about baseball, Buck watches as he walks away before getting sucked back into another conversation about black holes.

Across the room from him, Eddie sits with Emily, Derek and a woman he now knows as JJ. He’s laughing as Emily teases him about something. What it could be about, Buck doesn’t know, but seeing Eddie laugh makes his heart soar.

“Oh?” Penelope smirks. “Eddie, huh? What’s going on there?”

Buck’s eyes widen at the unexpected question. “What? Nothing.”

Reid, who didn’t even seem to be one for gossip, scoffs. “Do you know what the BAU does? We study human behavior. The entire time Eddie was over here, you leaned into him whenever you talked. You would brush your hand against his and whenever you’d laugh about something, you’d tap his chest. You only looked at him the entire conversation, you were hanging onto every word. The amount of eye contact between the two of you was evident. When JJ came behind us and knocked into Eddie, you put your arm out to protect him. Classic mannerisms of someone in love.”

“But Eddie does that stuff too. It’s not just me.” Buck really thinks he’s making a point.

Penelope laughs. “Oh, honey, you’re exactly right. This isn’t an unrequited love trope here. Our friends are over there probably teasing him for the same thing right now. You don’t need to be a profiler to see he’s in love with you, too.”

Buck looks over to Eddie along with Penelope and Reid. Eddie’s face is red and he’s looking down as JJ talks exasperatedly. Then Eddie is looking up and catches the three of them staring. Buck’s face is on fire as he waves awkwardly. Derek, Emily, and JJ look up as well and smirk at each other.

“I think I hate profilers.” Buck deadpans.

Across the room, Eddie says the same thing.

#buddie #evan buckley #eddie diaz #spencer reid #penelope garcia #derek morgan #911 #criminal minds #emily prentiss #bau #my fics

41 notes · View notes

mythologyfolklore · 4 years ago

Text

Ares and Athena through the years - Ch. 13

Chapter Thirteen: The Odyssey, Pt. 01

Zeus was doing his correspondence.

He was also mentally cursing himself for allowing Ares to go on his world trip.

The war god, who was always written off as stupid and incompetent had been a big help with the mail, but now Zeus was submerging in a sea of prayers, letters from both his own pantheon and from abroad, and complaints. Complaints en masse.

“'You won't be needing me', he said, 'That stuff is really easy', he said!”, Zeus grumbled irritably.

Then there was a knock on the door.

“Enter!”

It was Athena, who came in.

Zeus stood up. “My little Owl-Eye! So good to see you!”

Athena looked around, assessed the situation in one glance and grinned: “Too much paper stuff?”

“Too much paper stuff”, he confirmed.

“If I help you with all of that, will you let Odysseus finally return home?”

Zeus laughed heartily: “I was going to do that anyway! But how could I possibly refuse that offer?”

Athena beamed at him.

Cute.

After doing the majority of her father's paper stuff and questioning how Ares with his lack of tact had done this all those millennia, Athena wasted no time in descending down to earth and onto Ithaka.

She had to take a look at the situation there – and to see, if the son of Odysseus was any good.

In the shape of an old friend of Odysseus' she went up to the palace.

Even from the outside, she could hear a lot of noise.

What the Tartaros is going on in there?

As she came into the yard, she saw strangers – probably the suitors of Penelope – playing boardgames to waste their time, sitting on the skins of bovines they had slaughtered and generally living the high life consuming the wealth of another, like parasites.

Soon she was noticed and approached by a young man with chestnut brown hair.

The sharp green eyes, so much like those of Odysseus, gave away who he was.

“Welcome, welcome!”, Telemakhos exclaimed, “Do come in, our respected guest! We shall give you the best we have to offer! And after you have eaten and refreshed yourself, tell us what brings you here.”

Athena could tell, that the young man was miserable at the situation, but he didn't show it.

He was nothing but polite and respectful towards his guest and readied her a place apart from all the insolent suitors.

“I don't assume you want to eat with this noisy crew”, he commented.

“No, I prefer to eat and drink in peace.”

Just a few moments later, the suitors came in, rude and hubristic as they apparently always were.

They were served and then forced a musician to sing for them. The man glared at them hatefully, but began to sing beautifully.

Telemakhos looked pained and murmured to the disguised Athena: “Would you lend me your ear?”

“Of course.”

“I hate this. I hate how these people consume the goods of another without care or compensation, while my mother and I mourn my dear father, who is most likely dead, even though some say that he'll come back one day. But our hope is dwindling from day to day. And we can't even give him an honourable burial, because his bones are probably lying on the bottom of the sea, where the salt water washes and bleaches them. But tell me, stranger, who are you, which family and what home do you come from?”

“My name is Mentor, son of Anchialos and Lord of Taphos. I'm a good friend of your father's and our fathers were friends before us (you can ask Laertes, I heard he lives away from here out of shame). I'm on my way to Temesa to trade precious metals and tissue. I wanted to pay you a visit, because I heard that your father was home. But apparently he's not. But I'm certain he's not dead either; perhaps some brutal and savage tribe is holding him captive and keeping him from coming home. Now I'm not a prophet, but I know for certain, that the Deathless Ones will grant him a safe homecoming soon. He won't stay away from home for much longer, I'm sure. But what about you? Are you really his son? You have his eyes, you do. I may not have seen him in over twenty years, but his face was hardly one I could forget!”

“He is my father”, Telemakhos sighed, “But I wish that rather instead of such an unfortunate man it was one, who could be here with his family, growing old in peace in his own land.”

Athena pitied the young man, but had to keep her act up.

“Now, now. Your family was made for glory and you're no different, I can tell. But tell me, what is this celebration here for? Those men there certainly don't obey the laws of hospitality, uncouth and shamefully as they're acting. Any sensible man would be ashamed.”

Telemakhos frowned – just the way his father always did.

“I'm not going to lie: there must have been a time, when this was an honest household, wealthy and abundant, while its master was still here. But just a few years ago, the entire noble population of this one and the surrounding islands have come to woo my mother and now they're feeding off our property. We can't get rid of them, they won't leave until my mother marries one of them. She loathes the idea, but she can't offend them by refusing outright, so she's putting them off for as long as she can. Meanwhile these parasites are eating my reserves and sooner or later they will surely kill me.”

“Mentor” was indignant. “By the gods, you really need Odysseus back home! Would he come through this door in full armour and make short work of them! Oh, for them to be taken by dark Soteira¹ and rot in the underworld!”

“I wish”, the young man muttered.

But the disguised goddess continued: “But it's all in the hand of the gods, whether he will come home and have bloody revenge. For now, this is my counsel, from an old friend to a young one: summon the council of the island, tell the suitors to leave and your mother, if she chooses to marry, to return to the home of her father, for a dower to be prepared. As for yourself, prepare a good ship with twenty rowers and travel abroad to inquire about the whereabouts of your glorious father. First travel to Pylos and ask Nestor and if he can't help you out, move on to Sparta, to the court of Menélaos – he came home last, as far as I know. Should they give you hope, that your father is still alive, hang in there for another year. Should you hear, that he's dead, make a burial mount for him, with many gifts, as is appropriate. Then eliminate all those insolent suitors. Haven't you heard of how Orestes gained glory by slaying the murderer of his father Agamemnon? You're no longer a child, you're a grown handsome man. Hesitate not. Defend your honour, so that future generations may speak well of you. But I must leave now – surely my crew is getting impatient down at the harbour!”

Telemakhos smiled warmly (that was his mother's smile): “Thank you for your advice, kind old man. But won't you stay just a little longer? You're my guest, how could I possibly let you go without a gift? A precious and pretty one-”

“I'm afraid I really have no time”, she chuckled, “But I will come back and till then chose a really beautiful guest gift! It will be returned with one of equal worth.”

Then she turned into a small owl and flew out of the window, leaving behind a stunned Telemakhos.

Meanwhile Hermes had made his way to Ogygia, the island of Kalypso.

The nymph welcomed him and served him nectar and ambrosia and wanted to know, what he was here for.

Hermes, now refreshed, briefed her on the situation: “The King of the Gods has sent me to let you know his will. We happen to know, that you're keeping a poor man, who has been away from home for twenty years. Ten years he spent in the land of the Trojans, three lost at sea and seven years he has been languishing here, pining for home. This is the will of His Majesty: for this mortal to finally get home to his family, to reclaim his home and embrace his wife and son again. That is his lot, not to vegetate here, far away from his loved ones.”

Kalypso blanched and her eyes filled with tears.

“This … this is not fair! Why won't the gods allow, that a goddess may be happy with a mortal? Êôs loved Orion, only for him to die by the hands of golden-throned Artemis! Demeter loved Iasion, only for him to be hit by the Thunderer's lightning bolts! I saved this man, hosted and fed him, offered him immortality, so he would never grow old and die-”

“Êôs and Demeter were loved back”, Hermes countered, “Odysseus isn't happy with you. We see this man weeping on the strand day after da. Not every mortal wants immortality, Kalypso. Immortality is no blessing for a mortal, even though a lot of people think that. Odysseus needs his family and they need him. Let him go. Don't risk the anger of the King of the Gods.”

The nymph choked back a sob, but nodded.

Poseidon was returning from a party in Ethiopia, when he spotted something he did not like: his nemesi- er, the mortal he hated, merrily rowing on the surface of his sea on a raft with provisions.

Within seconds he put two and two together: the other gods must have decided for Odysseus to be allowed to go home, while he had been away.

“Well, I'm not letting him off easy”, Poseidon grumbled and unleashed a mighty storm, house-high waves, deadly currents and all.

Odysseus clung to his raft, as it was thrown back and forth by the waves and realised, that he was likely going to drown.

“Aw, shit!”, he muttered and held on tighter, because there was no way he would accept a death as inglorious as drowning.

But as he was clinging to his wooden raft, he soon saw the foam on one of the waves shift into the shape of a woman.

That was Leukothea, formerly Ino, the daughter of Kadmos and Harmonia and aunt of Dionysos, who had been deified by Poseidon, many centuries ago.

She pitied the struggling mortal thrown around by the raging sea.

“Poor man” she spoke, “What have you done to provoke the merciless wrath of Poseidon, that he wants to drown you so badly? But fear not, I'm here to help you. Listen: take off your clothes and everything that drags you down, then tie my scarf around your chest – it will save you from drowning. Once you have reached dry land, give it back to me.”

She handed him a silken scarf and dived back into the waves.

Odysseus frowned. Why would I need this, when I have a raft?

Right in that moment, said raft was torn apart by a particularly huge wave.

Never mind.

He did as the marine goddess had told him and took to swimming.

In the meantime Poseidon retired to his crystal palace on the bottom of the sea.

Odysseus spent the next two days fighting against the raging sea, trying to finally reach the shore.

All the while, Athena was with him, never once taking her protection away.

She stilled the winds and gave him the strength to swim long enough to reach the shore of the land of the Phaiakoi.

The long-suffering hero finally found a piece of strand, crawled onto the shore and fainted.

When he came to himself, he took off the anti-drowning-scarf and threw it back into the sea, back to its owner.

Then he turned his back onto the water, stumbled further inland and crawled under a bush.

Exhausted, hurting everywhere and too tired to do anything, he fell into a healing, restful slumber.

Athena meanwhile entered the sleep of Nausikaa, the princess of this land, disguised as one of her friends. She inspired her to go out in the morning to do her laundry with her maids and maybe play at ball and Nausikaa woke up, resolved to do just that.

Odysseus woke up to women's screaming.

He crawled out from under this bush, covered his private parts with a leafy branch and went to investigate.

Soon he came across a group of ladies, apparently looking for something.

When they saw him, they screamed and fled, all except for one.

She didn't seem to be afraid at all.

And perhaps she could help him.

So the former hero cleared his throat and with many a flattery asked her for help.

The lady introduced herself as princess Nausikaa of the Phaiakoi and gave him some of her father's clothes she and her maids had been washing earlier.

Once washed and finally dressed, he could feel a divine presence cast a spell on him.

When he stepped back in front of Nausikaa, he guessed that Athena had made him look younger and more stately than he actually was, because the princess proclaimed her hope to have a bridegroom as regal and handsome as himself.

Then she pointed him a way to the city, while she left for some place else.

One of her maids guided him and instructed him on how he should come to the king and queen to plead for hospitality.

He did as told and they received him kindly.

Next morning, king Alkinoos called an assembly of the local nobility, introduced them to this stranger and informed him of his request.

They marvelled at the newcomer, whom Athena had given godlike beauty, so that he would find approval and be liked by the people here.

“This stranger – I don't know who he is – has been stranded here and beseeches me for help to return to his homeland”, Alkinoos explained. “No supplicant has ever asked us in vain for safe transport. So let's ready a ship and rowers and let him go where he wishes to, as soon as possible. But first we should host him according to the laws of hospitality. Let a great feast be prepared and summon our best musician.”

This was done and not much later, the entire nobility was gathered in his hall to feast.

Demodokon, the blind singer, entertained them with his beautiful music and sung of the glory of the Achaeans in the Trojan War.

The musical reminder of the events made Odysseus upset and he pulled the cloak he was wearing over his face, so no one saw him cry.

Next was a small tournament.

The young Phaiakoi competed in all kinds of sports.

Odysseus was feeling too gloomy to participate in discus throwing, but when one of the young men provoked him and questioned his masculinity, he got so angry that he grabbed the biggest, heaviest discus at hand and threw it much farther than all the others.

“As you can see”, he turned to the stunned Phaiakoi, “I'm more than adept in the art of war and battle. If any of you wants to challenge me in another discipline, I'm more than confident, that I can best them. Except when it comes to running, as my leg muscles are out of shape.”

Alkinoos quickly pacified his guest and called to music and dance.

Odysseus marvelled at the dancing skills of the Phaiakoi, at the gracefulness of their movements and how their feet practically flew across the dance floor.

The singer Demodokon sang about the love of Ares and Aphrodite and of how her then husband Hephaistos had caught them in his golden net.

A pair of dancers performed a rhythmic ball play and everyone clapped along to the beat.

Odysseus turned to Alkinoos: “You praised your people as the best of dancers and it's really true! The sight astonishes me.”

That pleased the king and he ordered for rich guest presents to be given to the flatterer.

The man, who had provoked Odysseus earlier, gave him a reconciliatory gift (an iron sword² with a silver handle and ivory sheath) and an apology, which the older man gladly accepted and wished him, that he would never regret having given his sword away.

Evening came and after a nice bath Odysseus went to join another banquet, which was about to take place.

On the way he met Nausikaa and they bid each other farewell, as only men were allowed at the Symposion.³

As all men sat down to eat, Odysseus cut off a good piece of his meat and offered it to the grateful singer as a token of appreciation.

Demodokon continued his earlier song about the heroic deeds of the Achaeans in the Trojan War. Odysseus requested: “You sing so beautifully and accurately of those events! But now sing of the wooden horse! Sing of the thing that Epeios built with Athena's aid and which was brought to Troy, filled by Odysseus with warriors to raze Troy to the ground! If you can do that, I would be forever grateful!”

The singer did so and everyone was captivated.

But the memory made the war veteran weep bitterly.

When Alkinoos saw this, he ordered Demodokon to stop and asked Odysseus what the matter was.

“Also”, he added, “I still don't know who you are. What's your name, your family and the name of your home? Were you there in Troas or did you lose someone dear to you in this terrible war? A family member, a comrade or a friend?”

The other man wiped his tears away and stood up.

“I am Odysseus, son of Laertes, who beguiles men with cunning and beautiful words, whose fame reaches to the skies. I come from the bountiful island of Ithaka and I couldn't possibly think of a sweeter sight than my own home.”

The whole room was silent, as everyone stared at him.

---

1) Soteira: "Saviour", an epithet to many goddesses. In this case a euphemistic epithet of Persephone. 2) The Trojan War is supposed to have taken place in about the 13th or 12th century BC, which was still in the bronze age. So an iron weapon was something special. Iron was hard to forge, because it requires a higher temperature than copper and tin (the components of bronze), but it's also tougher than bronze. Therefore it was in high demand and it would stay that way, during the iron age and beyond. But because it was harder to work with and for other reasons, it was a lot more expensive than bronze. 3) The Symposion (a banquet with music, dance and philosophical discussions) was for men only. Ancient Greek misogyny, everyone. -_-

#Greek Mythology #odyssey #zeus #athena #telemakhos #hermes #kalypso #poseidon #leukothea #odysseus #nausikaa #alkinoo

5 notes · View notes

hunterofartemis7 · 14 days ago

Text

Calypso sat sadly on the beach of her island. She missed her “lover” Odysseus. Why did the gods have to take him away!?

“Calypos..”

Calypso turned to the voice behind. She was rather surprised to see a scarred goddess of wisdom standing behind her. Her surprise quickly turned to annoyance. “Go away, Athena.” Calypso told her, turning back to face the ocean.

“No,” Athena says, “we need to talk.”

“Well I don’t want to talk to you so go away!” Calypso yells at her. Athena didn’t listen and walked up, taking a seat on the sand beside her. Calypos pulls her knees up to her chest, resting her chin on her knees. “Are you happy now?”

The sudden question kinda caught Athena off guard, “pardon?”

“Odysseus went back to his “wife” and never has to see me again. In the 7 years he was on my island he never called for me, but the second he got the chance he calls for you! He called for you and the next day Hermes tells me I have to let the love of my life go so I ask again, are you happy now!?” Calypso yelled at Athena, tears starting to flow down her face.

Athena doesn’t say anything, just looks at the crying goddess with pity. Calypso turned away from her, wiping the tears off her face.

“I am, but not the reason you think.”

Calypso looked back at Athena, who was watching the waves come up to the shore. “What?” She asked.

Athena answered again. “You asked if I was happy now, I am, but not because he’s off and you’re alone.”

Calypso was confused, but mostly still upset. “I don’t understand.”

“Odysseus is back where he needs to be, with the people who really loved him—“

“I DID LOVE HIM!!” Calypso cut her off, getting up and yelling in Athena’s face. Though she was unfazed. “You loved not being alone anymore. You loved the idea of finally having someone here all to yourself and didn’t think about how he might feel.”

“Shut up..!”

“Calypso I don’t doubt that you loved him, but not the way you really think you did—“

“I SAID SHUT UP!!” Calypso yelled furiously, using her magic to entangle Athena in thorny veins. “YOU DONT KNOW WHAT LOVE IS!! YOU NEVER FELT IT!! I DID!!”

Athena was unfazed by this, she knew calypso probably did love him and wanted him, but it was more she didn’t want to be alone anymore. “You’re right, I’ve never experienced romantic love, but I’ve seen it. I’ve seen it between Odysseus and Penelope and that wasn’t what you and Odysseus had.” Athena snapped and the vines disappeared around her. She brushes the sand off her clothes completely unbothered by Calypos attempted to intimidate her.

“Why are you doing this!? Why are you telling me any of this!?” Calypso yelled again.

“Because I want to help actually learn how to have a real connection with someone and not a forced one.”

Calypso was ready to strangle Athena, or throw her off her island but her last comment made her curious. “…why?”

“Excuse me?”

“Why do you want to help me so bad? I figured you of all people would hate me.”

“Because I’m trying to make the world a kinder place, what’s a better place to start than here?” Athena answered. “Plus…I was willing to give up everything to help Odysseus, who’s to say i can’t help you too.”

Calypso just stared at her before walking up to the goddess. Athena was bracing herself, thinking Calypso was going to punch her or something, but she didn’t. Well, she was going to, but stoped last minute and started crying, hugging Athena and burying her head into her chest. Athena was a bit taken aback by this, though wasn’t entirely surprised and just hugged the poor goddess, stroking her hair and letting her cry.

“I…I hate being alone..!” Calypso sobbed.

“I know” Athena coed, “I know.”

After calming down, calypso agreed to let Athena teach her about actual having an emotional connection with someone and how not to force anyone to do things they don’t want to. They had to get Hermes involved cause while Athena was getting better at her own emotional connection, there were some aspects she still needed work on. Athena considered introducing Telemachus and Calypso, or having Calypso apologize to Odysseus, but figured it was better to keep everyone apart.

Someone better at character writing than me please write a fic about Athena going to ogygia post Epic to rehabilitate calypso and teach her how to make actual genuine connections for once (she’s gonna be to calypso who Telemachus was to her) (spreading her new warrior of the mind agenda of making the world a kinder place)

#athena #athena epic #odysseus #epic the musical #greek mythology #athena goddess of wisdom #adopted heros au #epic odysseus #calypso #epic calypso #hermes

124 notes · View notes

fyeahwonderbat · 6 years ago

Note

Can you do a Mother’s day story, please?

“Good evening, son.” Bruce changed the tone of his greeting without any notice, drawing his inspiration from Alex’s uncertain appearance at the manor. He stood arms cross, scowl heavy, feet planted wide apart as he witnessed the disheveled attempt of his eldest son (with his wife) to sneak into the west wing hallway undetected after failing to arrive at the time he committed to.

The surprise was visible behind the wavy strands of sandy blond hair that covered his face, proving that Alex was no sleuth like his father was. “Oh, uh… hiii, daaad.” He greeted him like he was a child caught stealing some ice cream from the kitchen, rather than a grown man crawling in through the window of a well lit hallway of a house as guarded by security cameras as Wayne Manor was. It wasn’t the foolishness that irritated him, oh no.

It was that cheeky smile that sent him into the role of the authoritarian parent that he reveled in.

“It’s not me you should be talking to. It’s your mother.” scolded Bruce.

“Well, if she was the one who found me like this, I would have said hi to her too.” Alex said, knowing full well that he was getting on his father’s last nerve. He witnessed the grown man before him fumble with his grip on the window frame, rocking back and forth while he tried to calculate his next move, only to fall forward. The noise his body made when it hit the hardwood was so heavy, Bruce hoped that it hurt him, even a little bit. But he knew that the only man in the world born with Amazonian strength would have felt nothing more than a mere tap on his side when he landed.

Disappointment written on his face, Bruce decided to try guilting his son in order to draw out some sign of remorse from his otherwise cheery disposition, “Penelope arrived at noon, Silas came by for dinner and Iris made sure to call to let us know that she’d only be able to make dessert, but is now sleeping in her old room so she can have breakfast with us in the morning.”

“Wow, what a… happy family we have here.” Alex chuckled, clearly intending for his words to be taken with a grain of salt. Unable to find a single reason to frown, he managed to keep his grin in tact while he rose up off of the floor and fixed up his outfit. As per usual, he was wearing his tattered jeans and a stained graphic t-shirt for a band or a show that Bruce had never heard of before. His sneakers were worn, but they couldn’t compare to that old rucksack that he got for his eighteenth birthday. The one his mother had selected, the one he had paid for, the one they had filled with the necessities he’d need to travel abroad.

That was three years ago.

“You haven’t changed at all, Alex,” Bruce complained. “I thought the Peace Corps would have helped fine tune this willy nilly attitude of yours.”

“Did… Did Bruce Wayne just say ‘willy nilly’?” Alex asked, sounding absolutely thrilled to have been present at that very moment to witness such a thing.

The way his jaw clamped down in response to his son’s teasing was nothing new and neither was the irritation that usually caused him to respond to Alex in such a way. “I’m very tired,” he admitted for the sake of defending himself. Then, he turned away from the source of his frustration and began to stomp his way down the hall. “And so is Diana. You know how busy we are, and how much today means to her.”

“Of course I do, because she means the world to me.” Alex admitted freely as he caught up to Bruce. He fixed the strap of his rucksack on his shoulder and carelessly followed his father without any clue as to where he was leading him to.

Dissatisfied with his actions in comparison to his words, Bruce felt it was fair to interrogate him then and there. “Then where were you? Did your transcommunicator break?” “Nooo,” Alex answered slowly. “The… connection doesn’t reach where I went.”

Bruce didn’t need to hear another word. He knew exactly what that meant and the anger he felt - the brand of fury that he felt belonged specifically to his half-Amazonian son - threatened to choke the words he had rising up the back of his throat. “Themyscira!?”

Though he stopped walking, Alex did not. At the very least, he took two more paces forward than his father before he agreed to their standstill and stopped himself from reaching the staircase. His broad shoulders rose up to meet the curly mop of hair on his head before falling back dowards, indicating a rather heavy sigh escaped him. Bruce saw a glimpse of awareness in that single action but it wasn’t enough to soothe his aggression. It wasn’t a secret between him and his sons that he did not want them attempting to visit the isle of the Amazons, but there was one son in particular who could never seem to listen.

(One of his sons with his wife, that is.)

“I had my reasons, dad.” Alex implied that he had a proper excuse all without providing one.

It mattered not to Bruce. “And I have mine whenever we have this conversation! Your grandmother never seen me as her family, so why would she accept you? You know what she did to your mother - why even she isn’t allowed back there, after all she’s done to save the world time and time again. Do you hear anything I say to you!?”

“Bruce?” Came a gentle call from behind one of the many doors in the west wing.

“Dammit.” Bruce cursed, knowing that their argument was about to be cut short.

“Dad,” Alex whispered. “Just let me explain-”

“If you wanted to tell me anything, you would have done so before-”

And that was the end of their dispute, for the time being, as the bedroom door of the master suite swung open and a robbed Diana came out into the hall. “What on Earth is all this stomping and yelling about--Oh! Alexandros!?”

“Hi, mama.” Alex greeted her so genuinely, his smile could be heard in his words.

Bruce merely stepped aside and did his best to refrain from rolling his eyes while the two of them hugged. It had been almost a year since Diana had last seen Alex in person, and she always complained that video calls were never enough. The two of them had such a precious bond that was visible to someone as cold hearted as the Batman, and given that it was Mother’s Day, he didn’t want to let his ‘sourness’ ruin the mood, as his ‘sweet’ wife referred to it as.

“I’m so happy you’re here.” Diana sounded rather emotional as she stroked Alex’s messy hair. Bruce watched her look over her ‘little warrior’ as if he had just come inside from a scuffle in a sandbox; no matter how old he got, she always treated her firstborn boy like he was much more fragile than he actually was. He had assumed it was because she had grown up believing that men were not as strong as the Amazons of Themyscira, but her relationship with Silas was nothing like what it was with Alex. She saw something in him that needed to be protected.

Which would most likely explain why Bruce was always tougher with him.

“Of course I’m here!” Alex exclaimed. He moved back just enough so he could see his mother, but not so much that he’d have to let go of her waist.

Diana, having felt the separation more than he did, immediately calmed herself so that she could cock her eyebrow at that beaming expression of his. Without hesitation, she reminded him, “Where was this attitude for my birthday then? Or any of our family holidays? Or your birthday, for that matter?”

When Bruce thought that Alex might buckle, he instead chuckled at the barrage of questions being flung at him. “There was something special about today, that no other day could compare to!” He cheered.

“Oh please,” Diana hummed low, warning of his disbelief. “Do explain.”

Intrigued, Bruce arched a brow now too. He eyed that massive backpack that his son took with him all over the world and wondered what could possibly be inside of it. Did he bring his mother a shield from her homeland? Maybe a book on the history she’d missed out on while having been exiled? Something that she could only get on the island of Themyscira?

To his surprise, Alex didn’t go anywhere near his bag. He simply reached into the pocket of his pants and pulled out a piece of paper. It looked crumpled and worn from the trek it must have went on to get all the way to Gotham City, much like his relationship with his own son.

“What’s this?” Diana wondered aloud, clearly unaware of the backstory behind her gift.

Softly, all Alex had to say was, “Just open it, mama.”

Forever the curious type, Diana didn’t need to be told twice to throw open the creased halves of the letter and scour the page with her wide-eyed gaze. Once the letter was in her hands, Bruce was incredibly nervous, somewhat wishing he’d had the chance to look over the contents of the letter from her home if only to make sure that it wouldn’t cause her any pain. He could hope all he wanted that Hippolyta would say something kind to her daughter for the first time in centuries, but from his experience with her, the chance of something amicable being written in that letter was highly unlikely.

“Alexandros… What…?” Diana was teary-eyed once again, only now she was also shaking. Bruce took a step forward, ready to pounce if his wife needed his support.

Never without a look of pure joy on his face, Alex nodded at his mother. “It’s only an offer to the Reform Island, but it’s a start.”

“What? What is?” Bruce demanded to know.

Diana, on the other hand, collapsed against her son, unable to speak as she held onto him for dear life. That grip looked like it channeled all of her strength, but Alex could take it, and he did so happily. Over his mother’s shoulder, he looked to Bruce and finally revealed what the surprise gift entailed, “After I performed a few trials for the gods amusement, they guaranteed that mama could barter for an end to her exile on Themyscira. She only has to pray to Athena and a date will be set.”

“You performed trials for the Olympian gods?” Bruce, tackling each point of the reveal at a time, started with the most startling fact in his eyes: his son could have fought Ares or Zeus alone!?

Alex laughed off the concern, “Nothing as horrible as what Hercules went through, so I think it’s safe to say that they like me more than him.”

“You’re amazing, my darling.” Was all Diana could manage to say while battling with her current state of emotion. She refused to leave the crook of Alex’s neck, burying her head there to hide her tears should they fall.

Seeing the exchange of pure emotion between his wife and his son made Bruce reel, and he quickly realized that his focus had been wrong at first. No matter the circumstances, Alex had done something that not even Diana herself had achieved. He had done something that Bruce had never figured out how to do: he forged an opportunity for his mother to see her mother again, and even presented to her on Mother’s Day. It wasn’t a holiday that could have dated back to ancient times, but the title of the day managed to elevate the gift giving that Alex did.

His overly cheery, eternally optimistic, always smiling from ear to ear son, Alexandros Wayne.

And all of that sunny disposition was a testament to his wife, Diana Prince-Wayne.

“I’ll see you two later.” Bruce mumbled to the two of them as he decide to take his leave. He patted Diana’s shoulder with the most affection he could provide her with in that moment, while also staring down Alex with a firmness in his eyes. It wasn’t as cruel or harsh as it was when he fell through the window. No, now, he glanced at his only Amazonian son with a type of pride that was earned by him. He could grill him further in the morning.

Tonight, he was Diana’s darling son and they deserved their time together.

He left them alone, wandering into the master bedroom and closing the door softly behind him. Bruce stood there in awe of what he had truly just learned, unable to fathom what it was Alex had done to make the gods bend to his will. An achievement that even his parents couldn’t obtain now belonged to him, and yet, he saw what Alex had done as a testament to his parents. In all honesty, it belonged entirely to Diana. Through an accomplishment of his son, he was once again - for the umpteenth time over the course of their tumultuous relationship - he couldn’t help but marvel at the woman who had agreed to be his wife, who agreed to be the mother of his children.

He was so glad that Alex came home, because Diana truly did deserve the most joyous Mother’s Day, and he gave that to her. ((Belated by a few days, but I hope you all enjoy! I figured I should use my WonderBat kids at some point, and this seemed like a really cute way to do so. I hope you like Alex, and this cute little drabble! ~ Maiden))

16 notes · View notes

witchwaymagazine-blog · 7 years ago

Text

Beyond Dead Names

A TRANS PERSPECTIVE ON SAMHAIN

BY EVELYN DESHANE - Featured in the October 2017 issue of Witch Way Magazine

When I worked at a thrift store, it was widely acknowledged that Halloween was our busiest time. Most stores braced for the Christmas rush while their staff is made sick with Christmas songs--but our end-of-year blowout was always during the fall. From August until November, we had multiple meetings devoted to Halloween themes and store deals, along with direct training on how to find the best costume for people in our racks of used clothing. Basically, I lived in a witchy paradise filled with black-and-orange decorations, skeletons and cats on every surface, and Halloween music for three months. Our store was also filled with antique pagan supplies that the staff had built up over the summer and released all at once during the spooky season.

Halloween season at a thrift store also meant a lot of cross-dressing. One of my managers repeatedly told a story of a six foot two jock type of guy coming into the store, utterly timid, and asking for help finding a costume. After she'd exhausted many regular options using the store clothing like lumberjack or construction worker, he asked if she could help him dress as a woman. My manager did and, as she boasted, "he was as beautiful as he was pleased." To the manager and the rest of the staff, this was an amusing anecdote. To me, though, this story was about far more than a costume. It was something I recognized in my queer group of friends as the first stages of coming out--but coming out in as safe as way as possible.

In Leslie Feinberg's historical survey of cross-dressing and trans identity called Gender Warriors, Feinberg remembers a time when zie (preferred pronoun) was a child and laws were still in place that required people to wear at least three pieces of clothing that corresponded to their birth gender. There would regularly be raids at gay bars to ensure this law was in place, forcing many queer people to disrobe in front of officers in order to verify compliance. All arrests and raids ceased on Halloween, though, since people were supposed to dress up. To be something you weren't--be it a lumberjack or construction worker or a ghost--was precisely the point. For Feinberg and many other queer people, Halloween was actually the time where you could be who you always were--but without the fear of repercussion.

Even though these laws are not on the books anymore, there are still a dozen bathroom policies and other prejudices that have come to light in recent years against trans and other gender nonconforming people. Coming out as trans or nonbinary is still quite difficult--so Halloween still provides a safe haven for so many queer people like it once did. For a couple weeks out of the year--or even a couple months--gender experimentation can occur with little or no judgement. Gender transition itself never happens overnight (no matter what Hollywood says and shows in movies), and these autumn months can mark the first stages of that transition since it poses less risk overall.

For those who are trans/nonbinary and Pagan, autumn can really start to feel like a magical season. The Celtic New Year is already established as Samhain, and much like the typical Western New Year, I know a lot of Pagans who have set resolutions or set the day aside to account for what worked and what did not in the past twelve months. Some have started transition on this date, drawing on the energy of the season and the time spent mourning lost lives. Most Pagans are familiar with the practice of choosing a magical name, but there is also name-changing in some trans people's lives as well, in order to find a better moniker suited to their gendered selves. When that change has happened, the birth name has also been called a "dead name" referring to the dead life and gender associated with it. While I understand that "dead name" as a term is supposed to sound harsh and heavy in order to disrupt the associations that cisgender people have to it, the term itself has always left me feeling rather haunted. When I changed my name, I wanted to run as fast as I could from my old name--but I knew I could not run away from my old life. I also didn't want to run away from my old life. Even if I acknowledged that my old name was old and I didn't want to be associated with it anymore, I gathered experiences and memories with that name, and to discard it so callously meant that I had to cut off people. And like the magical cutting of cords, it hurt.

There are so many celebrations that happen in the trans community surrounding the new name (I know of people who host birthday parties and frame new birth certificates), but there often nothing done around the discarding of the old name. Even in traditional wedding and handfasting ceremonies, there are rituals embedded which signal the surname change as the migration to the new family. So why wouldn't there be one for those who have changed first names? It has always seemed like a glaring omission, one which I've always wanted to rectify. As someone who has changed their name, and identify with queer Paganism, Samhain is the perfect time to embrace the transition of one gender to another, but to also mourn and respect the past that has come from it. To be a more holistic person, I think you have to recognize what has come before in order to celebrate the future.

So that was exactly what I did. On Halloween 2016, I turned myself towards my past and came up with my own way of reconciling these names. The first time I'd used the name "Evelyn" was for a poem publication--so for me, the way to make peace with the older parts of myself was to write and publish another poem which expressly talked about all the things I'd felt about my socalled "dead name." The poem was called "teenage ghosts" and was published in the June 2017 issue of Eternal Haunted Summer, providing a nice ending to the ritual itself. The poem declared my past selves, but it also integrated whatever ghosts they may have been keeping alive. And by publishing it, it meant I wasn't hiding anymore. The bookending of these experiences was my form of neo-pagan chaos magic--but it does not need to be exactly like this, as long as the past itself is acknowledged.

For me, Samhain also seems like the perfect time to recognize and honour the deities who seem at least a little trans or queer. In general, trans people tend to be conflated with mythological creatures--think of how often someone references a Phoenix or the gender swapping Tiersias in conversations about trans people--and this can lead to some problems. It some instances, by conflating trans identity with mythology, it implies that trans people aren't real. Trans activist Casey Plett has written about this issue for The Walrus, and Laine Mardollsdottir has a fantastic article on Patheos.com discussing people's assumptions about her Pagan practice and the deities she must adore because she's trans. Being trans or nonbinary is more than just gender itself at the end of the day, and the deities who represent some aspects of trans life and experience can be wide and varied.

For instance, I've always been drawn to the story of The Odyssey, since both Penelope and Odysseus represent two huge parts of the gender transition narrative: patience and travel. Many of my trans friends have spent months waiting for a referral, and once they obtain it, travelling hours and hours from their home in order to obtain what they need from a doctor--a doctor who, in some instances, can feel like Circe herself.

In Jennifer Joshua Esposito's poems, she claims that the moon itself is trans--which makes me think of even more potentials for esbat rituals and the way in which we conceive of lunar femininity. Since so many trans people need hormones from outside sources, they are often in a doctor's office or pharmacy at least once a month; the changes that come from these hormones are just as cyclical and transitory as the moon. Not to mention how often I've heard people call trans-ness itself just a 'phase.' Jennifer's poem seems to embrace that idea, and reclaiming the 'phase' in an empowering way, much like queer people reclaimed Halloween.

Finally, I also see Athena as a trans figure, since she was not born in a typical fashion, but sprung from a forehead. Athena reminds me of that six-foot-two person who came in looking for a Halloween costume a couple years ago. That customer was strong and steadfast in what they wanted, and never left until they got it. Sometimes on Halloween I wonder what has happened to them, and if they were finally able to spring from another's forehead and truly become who they wanted to be.

Halloween and Samhain holds so much potential for change and reconciliation of the past with the future. I can only hope that everyone finds what and who they want on Halloween night.

#pagan #trans #nonbinary #transwitch #samhain

6 notes · View notes

mythologyfolklore · 4 years ago

Text

Ares and Athena through the years - Ch. 14

Chapter Fourteen: Odyssey, Pt. 02

(A/N: The second part of the Odyssey! The next one will be the last one, but also the longest, because I’m barely half-way through this damn book! Also a warning for people getting eaten by cyclops and sea monsters)

Odysseus continued: “Now that you know this, you're probably wondering how I got into this situation. So I will tell you also of my many troubles, that in the end have brought me here.

It all started at the sacking of Troy and the surrounding area.

I insisted, that we should leave immediately after winning the war.

But Agamemnon, master of bad decisions, and a majority of his army, refused, continuing the sacking, partying and getting drunk and making sacrifices that couldn't appease the angered gods anymore. A retaliatory force coming to the aid of the surviving Trojans overwhelmed us and killed many of the Achaeans, who had survived the war. In addition Zeus' wrath came upon us and a large part of the fleet was wrecked in a storm. My ships and men survived, albeit damaged, but we were brought off course and sent adrift on the sea, all the while mourning those of our men, who had fallen against the Kykones.

After a few days we drifted to the island of the Lotophages¹.

They were friendly and meant well, but the Lotos they shared with us was apparently a hallucinogen, because it clouded the senses of my men to the point where I forcefully had to drag them back to the ships, despite their tears and protests.

You will see, that this stop was the least problematic on my journey.

The next island we came to was that of the Kyklopes², audacious, lawless men, who rely on the Deathless Ones so much, that they don't sow fruits or corn, nor drive out to fish, as they don't know rows or ships. Their fruits grow without care, by the blessing of Zeus. We found insane lots of goats living on the island. As we set out to look the place, we found a cave and in a fit of stupidity decided to explore it.

We were still there, when its owner came back, a nasty Kyklops named Polyphemos.

He heeded not the laws of hospitality – perhaps he didn't even know them – spoke blasphemy against Zeus and … and he grabbed two of my men, flung them around like dolls … and ate them. Gods, it was horrifying! Then he went to sleep. In the morning that monster devoured two more of my men, drove his sheep outside and pushed a boulder in front of the entrance, locking us inside. I really wanted to kill him in his sleep, but I couldn't do that without trapping us all inside the cave, so we had to bide our time. During that time we looked for something to aid us in our escape and found a huge bludgeon. I cut a piece off with my sword and ordered the others to sharpen it into a rod. By the time the Kyklops was back, it was ready and so was my escape plan. After he had devoured two more of my men, I managed to get him drunk on the wine we had brought along. He asked me what my name was and I told him it was 'Nobody'. He declared, that he would eat me last and went to sleep.

We took the big pale we had made, heated it over the fire and used it to gouge his eye out.

The Kyklops awoke, roared in pain and fury, that the cave shook and we all ran, trying to get out of his reach. He pulled the pale out of his eye, scrambled around and kept on screaming.

From outside we could hear his fellow Kyklopes gather around his cave to see what was wrong. We could hear them ask him, why he was screaming like that. When he told them that 'Nobody' had blinded him and wanted to kill him, we heard them scoff in response and tell him to pray to his father, mighty Poseidon. My heart laughed, because my idea had fooled them so well.

Polyphemos kept feeling around and finally moved the boulder from the entrance of the cave. He felt the backs of his sheep to prevent anyone from escaping among them. Little did he know, that we were clinging to the bellies of the sheep – and beautiful, well-fed and well-cared sheep they were – and that was how we got away. We quickly drove the sheep to the ships to those of the crew, who had stayed there and made haste to get away from the island.

But I had a moment of hubris – I still don't know what I was thinking – and provoked the Kyklops with taunting words, that he threw a boulder at us, narrowly missing our ship. My companions told me to shut my mouth already (and I really should have) but I didn't listen and made the mistake of giving my real name. In his rage, he prayed to his father Poseidon, that I should never reach my home, or if I should, that I would get there very lately and all alone.

Thus he prayed and Kyanokhaitis³ heard him.

But we, now finally out of that danger, mourned those who had died, while thanking the gods for ourselves staying alive.

We shared the sheep we had taken among us and made sacrifices to Zeus, which went unheard.

We kept on sailing, until we landed on the island of Aiolos.

He received us kindly and asking us about everything. I told him whatever he wanted to know and after a month finally asked him to allow us to leave.

He did so and also gave me a leather bag, into which he locked the winds, safe for the west wind, so that we might get home quickly.

And we did have good wind, it was wonderful. It wasn't long, until Ithaka was in sight!

But unfortunately, my crew had to be idiots and put it into their heads, that the leather bag had treasures in it. They uncorked it, the winds escaped in a furious storm and we were blown back to Aiolos' island. But this time he sent us away, saying that we had to be cursed by the gods and he didn't want to have cursed people in his home.

I returned to the ships empty-handed and crestfallen.

The next land we came to was that of the Laistrygones.

As we went out for enquiries, we found a girl, who pointed us to the house of her parents. We quickly found out, that they were man-eating giants, as the king quickly seized one of my men, killed and cooked him.

The rest of us quickly fled back to the ships and made haste to get away as quickly as possible.

But alas, only my own ship managed to escape, the others and their crew were lost.

We kept on rowing, mourning the loss of so many more of our comrades.

For days we meandered across the sea, until we got to the isle of Aiaia. There lives Kirke, daughter of Helios and the Okeanide Perse and sister of king Aietes of Kolkhis. She is a goddess and a sorceress of great power.

That I found out, when I sent a few of my comrades to scout the surroundings and only one of them came back, completely out of his wits. He told me, that the others had been invited inside her home and not returned. Only he had refused to come inside her house and therefore had escaped that fate.

This prompted me to go out and see for myself what was going on.

On my way, I was met by Hermes, the golden-staffed, who told me what exactly had happened: that my comrades had been turned into pigs and that I wouldn't stand a chance saving them without his help. He gave me a herb that would make me immune against Kirke's sorcery and told me what I should do. I was to eat that herb, before she would give me her enchanted meal, then, as soon as she would hit me with her switch, pull my sword and attack her, as if I wanted to kill her. Then I was to make her swear a Stygian Oath not to harm me and go to bed with her, then she would restore my comrades back to humanity.

So I did, so it happened and we spent over a year at her home, before one of my comrades reminded me of home.

I asked Kirke to let us go and she agreed, but advised me to travel to Hades first and consult the spirit of the blind seer Teiresias, as he was the only one, who knew how I could get home.

The prospect of going to Hades alive frightened me, but she gave me detailed instructions on how to get there and what to do upon arrival.

We sailed to the far west, to the stream of Okeanos and beyond.

There we found a grove of white poplars, the tree of terrible Persephone.

There we entered the underworld and sacrificed the two black sheep we had brought along.

It attracted many of the feeble spirits, who wanted to strengthen themselves by drinking some of the blood, but I pulled my sword and refused to let anyone drink, before Teiresias had arrived.

Oh how many familiar faces I saw, and how surprised I was to see them!

I found one of my comrades, whom we had left behind in Kirke's home. He told me, that he had fallen out of a window and broken his neck and begged, that he should be buried properly and with his oar. I promised him to do so.

And there I saw Antikleia, my dear mother, who had been alive, when I had sailed for Troy. How shocked I was to see her here!

But even her I couldn't let near, before I had consulted Teiresias.

He came and strengthened himself on the sheep blood, before revealing, why I was cursed and what I should do to return home. I had invoked the wrath of Ennosigaios⁴ by blinding his son Polyphemos, but even so my remaining men and I would come home, under one condition: he predicted, that we would land at the isle of Thrinakia, where the sun Helios lets his cows graze. Only if we kept our hands off the cows and didn't harm them, we would get home. If we hurt them, my crew would die and I would return only after many years more – alone, on a stranger's ship. And once there I would find many suitors at my home, vying for my wife and consuming my property. I would slay them all for their impertinence and then I was to seek a land afterwards would live the rest of my days more or less peacefully, until death would come for me from the sea.

Having learned this, I allowed some of the other spirits to drink from the blood.

The first to drink was my mother. I wept bitterly, when I heard how she had passed away. She told me … excuse me, please – ahem – she had died of heartbreak during my absence, that she had withered away yearning for me. She also told me, that my Penelope was still waiting for me, that my father was sorely missing me and wasting away (just like herself) and that my son was ruling over my estate. I sought to hug my dear mother, but it's the lot of the dead to be incorporeal ghosts. She bid me farewell and retreated back into the darkness.

Then came more souls of the dead, some of them lovers of gods and mothers of famed heroes.

I even encountered Alkmene, the mother of Herakles, and Leda, the mother of Helene – both beloved by Zeus during their lifetime.

I met so many, but if I recounted them all, we would be sitting here all night and it's really time to go to sleep.”

Silence filled the room, as everyone else gazed at Odysseus in wonder.

Eventually queen Arete broke the silence: “Look at what a splendid guest we have here! We shouldn't send him off too quickly, not without appropriate guest presents. The gods have given us great wealth and it's only fair, that we should share it with this man, who is in need of our gifts indeed.”

The assembled nobles nodded in agreement and looked at their king, waiting for what he had to say.

The king turned to Odysseus and asked him to stay for a day longer, as much as he probably desired to go home. Alkinoos was delighted, when the war veteran agreed.

“But first”, he said, “my curiosity needs to be satisfied. Please do tell us, if you saw any of your comrades who met their fates in front of the walls of Troy. It would really delight us all. I wouldn't mind staying up all night just to hear that!”

Odysseus was obviously tired, but humoured them and went on: “As you wish, then. Yes, I did see them all – them and those of my old comrades, who survived the war, but met their fates at home. First I saw dark Persephone herself – she came to lead the gentle women's souls away, then allowed me to see my old friends and acquaintances.

Imagine my surprise, when the first to appear was Agamemnon of Mykene, who had been alive last time I had seen him. He was wailing and weeping over being dead and it was so heart-wrenching, that I began to cry as well. When I asked him, what fate had befallen him, he told me about how his wife Klytaimnestra and her lover Aigisthos had perfidiously murdered him, right after his return home. They had slaughtered unfortunate Kassandra too (the princess of Troy, I remember her – she was a lot like me). He then proceeded to go on a rant about the falsehood of women, only to remind me, that I had chosen a good and loyal wife in Penelope (as if I didn't already know). Then he bewailed, that he hadn't even got to see his son again, before he had died and wished me, that I would see my dear child grow into a fine young man. He also asked me, if his son Orestes was alright, but I didn't know.

He retreated into the shadows and the next to come were Akhilleus and Patroklos (always together even in death), Antilokhos and Ajax the son of Telamon.

Akhilleus recognised me and sadly asked me, why I had come to the underworld. I told him and congratulated him on now being the ruler of the shades. He moaned and responded, that he would rather have been a peon, serving another and living in poverty, than be the superior of mindless shades. He also inquired after his father and son. I told him what I knew about them and he returned to the Asphodel Fields, proud that his son had gained glory.

Other souls stood sadly and asked what I could say about their loved ones.

Only Ajax stood aside; he held a grudge and didn't want to talk to me. I must admit that I regret winning the competition against him for the armour of great Akhilleus – it brought him to the grave and that just wasn't worth it.

I also saw king Minos of Crete, who now judges the dead.

I saw the giant hunter Orion, still chasing wild game even in death.

There was Tityos, who had assaulted black-robed Leto and as punishment was chained to the ground, while two vultures were feeding off his liver.

And there I saw Tantalos, perpetually starving and thirsty, trying in vain to reach the fruits above him and the water below, always retreating, when he reached or stooped for either.

Then there was Sisyphos, the trickster, rolling his boulder up a mountain, only for it to roll down, when he was almost there, so that he would have to start again.

I even encountered the shadow of famed Herakles. But he himself isn't there – he sits with the Immortals as a god and is wed to Hebe, the giver of youth.

The shadow gave me his sympathy and recalled how once he had been sent here during life, to get terrible Kerberos from Hades, for his last service to Eurystheus.

And I would have seen many more, but the dead now came in such large numbers, that I was seized by terror. When venerated Persephone motioned for me to leave, I was more than happy to comply.

So I grabbed my terrified companions and we returned to the surface and onto the stream of Okeanos.

We returned to Kirke's island and buried Elpenor, as I had promised him.

The sorceress let us rest for a day, gave us provisions and warned us about several dangers ahead on our journey.

Among other things, she warned me about the Seirênes and their entrancing voices. She advised me to stuff the ears of my crew with wax, as soon as we came near their island. If I wanted to hear them, I was to let my crew tie me to the pylon. I would be entranced by their singing and beg my crew to untie me, but with the wax in their ears, they wouldn't hear me and just row past their island.

But danger wouldn't end there, because next we would come to the narrow strait of Messina. The strait is flanked by two cliffs.

Halfway up the bigger one there is a a cave, where hideous Skylla has her home. Kirke described her as a bellowing monster with twelve dangling feet, six long necks and nasty heads on each, with a triple row of sharp teeth. Normally she fishes in the waters below with her long-necked heads, but when a ship came past, she'd eat a man with each of her heads.

On the smaller cliff opposite her cave stands a giant fig tree. Beneath it is a giant whirlpool, the monstrous Kharybdis. Thrice a day she would swallow water and throw it back up thrice.

There was no way past either of them without losing men.

After that we would come to Thrinakia, the island where Helios kept his cattle. She gave me the same advice Teiresias had given me before: not to touch them or all of my men would die and my return home would be delayed.

With her warnings on my mind, we set sail in the morning.

I told everything to my crew and they stuffed their ears with wax and tied me to the pole, as soon as the isle of the Seirênes came into sight.

I could see, that they looked just the way Kirke had describe them: they had the upper bodies of fair Nymphai and the wings and lower bodies of birds and were sitting on a green field, each on her own pile of bones and rotting corpses of men, who had been spellbound by their singing.

The men started to row as fast as they could.

As soon as the Seirênes spotted our ship, they began to sing to me.

Their heavenly singing ensnared my senses, as they called to me and promised me all the knowledge I had ever desired and dreamed of. I wanted to hear more and begged my men to untie me, but they leaned further into their oars and sailed faster. Two stood up and bound me tighter to the pylon.

It was only when their voices couldn't be heard anymore, that I stopped struggling against the ropes. Only then did my comrades take the wax out of their ears and untie me.

We just about had time to catch our breaths, before our ship was pulled into a strong and loud current. My crew was seized by fear and they let go of their rows. I had to give them a rousing speech to get them back to rowing the ship.

I instructed the helmsman to steer the ship away from the whirlpool towards the bigger cliff (I hadn't told my men anything about Skylla, because it would have frightened them even more). As we drove past Kharybdis, it sucked in water and we could see its insides, a truly horrific sight: from the walls of water came sharp rocks like teeth and at the bottom of the whirl the earth, darkened by the wet sand. That was terrifying enough, but it all got worse when we passed the cave of Skylla, her monstrous heads dashed down and grabbed six of my comrades. They thrashed in Skylla's six maws, calling my name, screaming for help, before they got devoured … it was … it was the most woebegone thing I had ever seen in my entire life. And that means a lot coming from me. We hastily sailed past, while her mouths were full.

After getting past those monstrosities with heavy losses, we finally got to the island of Helios.

We could see golden cows and sheep grazing on green fields.

Remembering what Teiresias and Kirke had told me, I warned my crew against landing here and told them, that we would land at the next island we'd find. But their collective protest forced me to give in and we landed on Thrinakia.

Predictably enough, Zeus sent a perpetual storm, which kept us there for over a month. At some point the provisions Kirke had given us began to run out.

We had to resort to hunting our food, birds, berries, roots, small game and so on.

One day I slipped away to make some sacrifices and pray to the gods for deliverance. What I got instead was a deep slumber.

While I was asleep, one of my comrades (my brother-in-law, sadly enough⁵) got the – urgh! – 'bright' idea, that it would be perfectly fine to kill one of the sacred golden cows, sacrifice it to the god and eat it. I woke up and returned to the ship, only to smell and behold beef being roasted over fire. Of course I was angry, frustrated and completely devastated, but it was too late now.

Meanwhile, one of the maidens living on the island reported the robbery to her father Helios.

Later, Kalypso, who had heard everything from other sea deities, told me what exactly had happened: wroth at my comrades' offence, the Sun had complained to Zeus and demanded reparation, or he would sink into the stream of Okeanos and never rise again. Zeus had pacified him and promised him retribution.

In the meantime the gods sent us bad omens: the cow skins crawled around, the flesh on the skewers screamed and it sounded much like the pained mooing of living cows. It was really nauseating to me, but apparently my comrades didn't notice anything. They merrily ate the beef for six days.

On the seventh, the storm sent by Zeus suddenly stopped.

We quickly went aboard and set sail. But as soon as we were on the open sea and there was no land in sight, the skies darkened and the King of the Gods unleashed another hurricane, worse than the last. It was already ripping the vessel apart, when Zeus struck our ship with a lightning bolt. It killed all that had been left of my crew and wrecked the ship completely.

I survived just barely, by clinging to the pylon. The storm ceased after a while, but bad winds carried me across the sea all night long – right back to Skylla and Kharybdis. Latter was swallowing the sea water, but I just about managed to grab the branches of the fig tree above. All I could do was hold on, until the monstrous whirlpool finally spat the water and with it the pylon back out. I let go, clung to the wooden pole and paddled out of there as fast as I could.

For nine days I was adrift on the sea, until I was marooned on the island of the goddess Kalypso, who treated me well and nursed me back to my full health and wits.

You know the rest, king; I told you and your esteemed queen yesterday. I would rather not tell again.”

Silence settled over the crowd once more.

This time it was Alkinoos, who broke it by deciding, that Odysseus, in addition to all the other guest presents he had already received, should also have kettles and tripods. His decision found collective approval.

Next day, the gifts from the Phaiakoi were carried to a ship, more festivities were held and Odysseus did his best to rein in his anxiety.

The morning after that, the ship was finally ready to leave the harbour.

With gladdened soul, the long-suffering hero bade his kind hosts farewell and wished them the best, a wish that was requited by the Phaiakoi. The proper sacrifices to the gods were made, the crew and he himself went aboard and after everyone was in place, they set sail.

He stood on the rail to wave at the crowd standing on the dock. Meanwhile a few of the rowers spread out blankets and cloths for him to sleep on.

With a thank you, he lay down and fell into a deep slumber.

All day and all night the ship practically flew across the sea and arrived at Ithaka early in the morning. They steered the ship to a remote place they knew, carried Odysseus (who was still sleeping like a log) down onto the strand with his newly given treasures, in this remote place where no one would see all of this and rob all the goods.

Then they sailed back home.

On Olympos, Poseidon was throwing a hissy fit.

“This will not stand!”, he roared, “If the mortals don't honour me anymore, does that mean that the gods don't do it either? I thought I decreed, that Odysseus would only come home after much suffering, as you decreed that eventually he should return! But the Phaiakoi – descendants of mine, no less – escorted him to Ithaka on a fast ship, with greater treasures than he ever could have won at Troy! This will not stand!”

“Now, now”, Zeus sought to pacify him, “No one disrespects you here. After all, you're the oldest here-”

“Fourth oldest!”, Aphrodite corrected sharply. “Of us Olympians, I, Demeter and Hera are the oldest here!”

“Whatever”, Zeus went on, “Dear brother, if a mortal disrespects you, you can still get revenge later. If you feel, that the Phaiakoi disrespected you by bringing him home at last, punish them to your heart's content.”

“I will!”, Poseidon huffed, “And also-”

“Uhhh, uncle?”

The gods turned to Dionysos in surprise.

The god of wine and madness sighed: “Uncle, don't you think it's time to just … stop? Being charitable towards an honoured guest is no disrespect to us gods. And Odysseus has already gone through so much shit. You got what you wanted. I have looked into his mind; he will be scarred for life, will always have nightmares at night. He has suffered too much by now, that it more than makes up for his crime. Let it go.”

Athena beamed at her half-brother and would have hugged him, but she had a reputation to uphold.

“You heard him”, she triumphed, “I couldn't have said it better. With all due respect, uncle, you need to calm down. The Phaiakoi shouldn't suffer, because of your petty grudge (besides, Polyphemos more than deserved what he got). Under any other circumstances, you – and we all – would have rewarded their helpfulness and hospitality. Should this be an exception?”

Poseidon grumbled, but assented and promised not to take it out on the innocent Phaiakoi.

That pacified Athena; Poseidon was a god of his word.

Still, it went against the fate that the Moirai had decided and so Zeus Moiragetês⁶ had a long talk with them. For once, the Moirai were generous enough to turn a blind eye to this subversion of fate.

And that's how a mean prophecy didn't come true.⁷

In Ithaka, Odysseus finally awoke from his slumber. But as he looked around, he didn't recognise his own home; the gods had summoned a thick mist to conceal the surroundings in its silver grey veil.

At first he was totally lost and despaired over it, praying that someone would send him a sign to let him know, where he was.

Athena heard his prayer and emerged from the mist in the guise of a young shepherd.

The battle-hardened veteran spotted him and inquired, where he was.

She laughed and informed him, that he was on widely known Ithaka, where else could they be?

She could tell, that he was relieved beyond comprehension.

But with healthy suspicion, he told her a fib, that he was from Crete, had fled after murdering a prince, then got into a storm and had been dumped here by the crew of the ship he had sailed with.

Athena laughed in amusement: “And this is why you're one of my favourite heroes. Your cunning is exceptional and you and I have that in common.”

He gawked at her and fell onto his knees.

She smiled and continued: “I have come to assist you. For you're not out of danger. Teiresias surely has warned you, that you would come home to find strangers inside your home, wooing your unwilling wife. You and I must plan now how to vanquish them.”

Odysseus looked up and replied: “Hardly a man could ever recognise you, oh goddess. For you disguise yourself as one of us mortals, when you walk among us and shroud yourself in illusions.”

Athena concealed, that one hero had seen her and other gods for what they were: Diomedes, Odysseus' former friend, whom she might have favoured just a little more. Even if these times of peace, she had never taken away his enhanced sight.

“Let's not talk about that”, she went on instead, “First we need to hide all those treasures. Then I will cast an illusion on you. We both know that it's better, if no one recognises you just yet.

And I know, that you're suspicious. You don't want to truly return, until you have reassured yourself about your wife's loyalty, no matter how much I insist, that she has never been unfaithful to you. She passes the days weeping for you, missing you sorely and stalling all the suitors that pressure her to marry one of them. Her loyalty is the last thing you have to worry about – it's her hope slipping away and the loyalty of her and your servants.

I will be honest with you: I always knew, that you would return home alone and in secret, after much suffering, but I couldn't go against Poseidon, who is my father's brother. He begrudges you still, because you blinded his son Polyphemos (even though that shitfaced Kyklops really had it coming). But it was my father's will, that you would come home eventually.

Listen: right now, you are in the harbour of Phorkys⁸, the Old Man of the Sea. Over there is a cave, dedicated to him and the local Naiades, who you always honoured with sacrifices. And there is the tree-clad Mount Neriton.”

With that she dispersed the fog, revealing the familiar environment.

With a happy cry he sank to the earth, kissed the ground and made a sweet prayer to greet the Naiades he had honoured, while had had been home.

After that, the mortal and the goddess carried the riches into the cave to hide them.

Then they began to plot the imminent doom of the intruding suitors, who were vying for Penelope.

“Thank you for warning me”, Odysseus told her, “Had I come in unprepared, I would have ended up like Agamemnon, slaughtered in my own home, except that it wouldn't be by my dear wife. Please help me, as I plan how to get my kingdom and property back and vanquish the intruders. Stay by my side, as I reclaim what's mine. With your wise counsel and assistance, I would take on hundreds of men without fear.”

Athena smiled. “Gladly will I be by your side through it all, my mortal friend.”

A risky thing for any deity, to call a mortal “friend”.

But Athena was a lonelier goddess than most people thought.

She had surprisingly few friends. And with Ares gone, she didn't even have a rival to regularly spar with (she didn't even know where he was; he had left right after the Trojan War had ended for good, was now the-Fates-knew-where and only occasionally wrote to his family).

Her mortal favourites were as close to being friends as her status allowed.

And she chose them carefully, because she hated when the favour of a god went to a mortal's head. Her favourites had to be sensible enough to not take her goodwill for granted.

Odysseus smiled back: “There are no words to express my gratitude, Oxyderkês⁹.”

---

1) Lotophages: Lotos-Eaters. 2) These Kyklopes are the children of Poseidon and the sea nymph Thoôsa (probably a goddess of swift currents), a daughter of Phorkys and Keto and sister to the Gorgones (among others). They are not to be confused with the Elder Kyklopes, who are the sons of Ouranos and Gaia, or with their children, the Younger Kyklopes, who worked for Hephaistos, before Apollon slew them. 3) Kyanokhaitis: "The (dark) Blue-Haired", an epithet of Poseidon. 4) Ennosigaios: "Shaker of the Earth", an epithet of Poseidon in his function as god of earthquakes. 5) Eurylokhos of Same was married to Odysseus' sister Ktimene. Throughout the Odyssey, he's shown to be a cowardly ass, who constantly goes against Odysseus' orders and undermines his authority. 6) Moiragetês: "Leader/Guide of the Fates", an epithet of Zeus in his function as god of fate. It's also en epithet of Apollon in his function as god of prophecy and oracles. 7) In the actual Odyssey, the prophecy is that the vessel carrying Odysseus home would be turned into stone, shortly before reaching the home harbour. In the original version Poseidon actually does get revenge and turns the ship into stone. It terrifies the Phaiakoi into resolving to never escort sea travellers again. Afterwards, Poseidon creates a mountain ridge to encompass their city and make sure they never escort strangers again. I don't like that version at all, so I took the liberty to alter it and let the innocent people get away. After all, their only "crime" was being friendly and helping a man, who was acting in self-defense, when he blinded a man-eating Kyklops. 8) Phorkys is an old sea god, son of Pontos and Gaia and brother of Nereus (the god of sea bounty and father of the Nereides), Thaumas (god of the wonders of the sea), the whale-shaped sea monster Keto and (perhaps) the whirlpool-shaped sea monster Kharybdis. He represents the dangers of the sea. Together with Keto, he is the father of the most dangerous and monstrous sea deities, the Graiai & the Gorgones (those you know from the myth of Perseus), Thoôsa (the mother of Polyphemos by Poseidon), Skylla and Ekhidna and according to some sources of Ladon, the Drakon that guards the Garden of the Hesperides. 9) Oxyderkês: "Sharp-Sighted", an epithet of Athena.

1 note · View note