#Baby Boy Telemachus comes soon!
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Worth the Mess Ch. 1
...Tada! :'D I've decided to make that "Odysseus gives baby Telemachus a lemon" fanfic split into chapters instead! As it'll probably be around 25,000 words if I keep doing what I do. Anyways! It's fluffy and self-indulgent as hell and I had fun! :D Hope y'all like it! I will say it's more ODYSSEY INSPIRED as I got really indulgent. I keep to mostly everything but I also have a shitton of fun. Warnings: Vomiting as Penelope has magic food poisoning, Penelope is also a young mom and they're both parents so that'll come more eventually. Words: 6000+ Shout out to all my lovely friends for helping out and being so amazing! I love you all so much!!!
Odysseus looked at the pile of flowers he had in his hand, then back to the single bloom held in the other. A light blue, mostly small buds that have yet to open. Looking at the bundle, one side had more white than the rest and decided that’s where the new one should be placed. That’s what his father always told him. Something about the colors. He gently tucked it among the rest, careful of the petals.
The wind suddenly picked up, whistling past his ears and causing some strands of his hair that weren’t being held in it’s tie to blow in his face. He pulled his purple cloak tighter around him and waited for it to pass. A curl caught on his lip, annoying him. As the chill stopped, he pushed the hair back behind his ear.
He looked at the pitiful bundle of flowers in his hands, making sure none were lost. It had only just become spring and he had to make do with what he could find. His collection had started earlier that day as he walked around the markets. A few blooms taken from there as well.
Odysseus scratched as his shoulder, all the while searching once more against the plants for more to pick. Sharp gray eyes spotted a little white one with two flowers on the stem and he reached for it.
He shifted his knees beneath him as he leaned forward and winced as the sharp gravel underneath stabbed at them. Squatting now, he grumbled and brushed the jagged pebbles that still stuck to his skin. He knew he didn’t need to do this himself. He was a king; he didn’t have to do anything he did not want to.
…He reached again.
Despite his strength, the smooth stem simply slipped through his grasp. Trying again, he gritted his teeth and pulled at the deeply rooted flower. Realizing that it would not budge, he took the small dagger he had with him and pressed his thumb against it, the stem in between.
A smooth cut. Too smooth, as he then felt a sting of pain and a yelp burst from him as he pressed too hard and moved too quickly. Having dropped the dagger and the flower, he hissed as he pressed his now bleeding thumb to the red outer skirt he was wearing.
A long tongue licked at his cheek. He laughed and leaned away from Argo's cold little puffs as he sniffed around his face. “I’m fine, boy. Your master is just not using his head at the moment.”
Argos made a noise that sounded like a sneeze before shoving his head under Odysseus’ arm for pets. The king smiled as he watched his dog’s tail wag when he started to scratch behind his ears. His fur soft and sleek under his fingers.
Good boy.
It was only the two of them right now, having sent the slaves that came with him away with a nice oak log that he planned to use for carving. He also wished to meet the naiads by himself, especially as this was a more personal visit.
He looked at the cut on his thumb, and was thankful it no longer oozed blood. If Penelope were here it would be completely healed, leaving no trace of his mistake… He huffed. For now just be happy you didn’t slice your thumb off… She’s resting now and that’s what she needs, he thought.
At least now he could use both hands to scratch both his dog’s ears. Argos’ eyes closing and letting out a low content sound and leaning against Odysseus who turned his head towards the palace where his love remained.
They usually went together while doing the rounds about their properties, as queen and king. Their palace watched over by his parents during their absence. Sometimes their son in their arms or strapped against them if they only planned to walk. Looking over their orchards, pastures, going on a hunt, a run, a swim, visiting friends…
It was strange how ever since they met his mind was filled with thoughts of “Oh, she’d like this.” and “I’ll have to tell Penelope this later.” Being separated made him feel like he only had half his mind. Functioning like a dull carving knife would; usable but needed more effort to make something out of it. Even now he was picking flowers for her. Seashells he found on the shore and bought at the market today clinking in a pouch at his hip. Stories brewing in his head to tell her… It would’ve been better if he could give it all to her right now.
Four days ago, his Penelope had simply gone to the river naiads, something she did often. Odysseus usually went with her as well, but there were messages and disputes to attend to so she went alone. Their son also remaining with Odysseus as well, thankfully, as the nymphs had taken down a huge catfish that day. Not an uncommon occurrence, the naiads taking matters into their own hands when they felt something was out of balance in their environment.
Odysseus was proud of her. He always was. He adored his powerful, little wife. She’s recovered so well since giving birth and he knew how much it meant to her to do what she did before. To feel like herself again.
The catfish was a beast. Three people were killed in it's rampage. While it wasn’t the largest creature Penelope has fought, as in Sparta there was more space, it was still longer than he was tall and it’s mouth could swallow his waist, making it even larger than her in comparison. It also had sharp, thin teeth unlike the usually gummy toothless maw catfish were known for. And as water nymphs do, they ate their kill in victory.
Penelope was the one to deal the final blow to it’s skull, using the rivers current to force the beast hard into a dead tree that fell over the the water. Letting the sharp branches do the job for her rather than her blade. Her victory meant she got to take the first bite. The cheeks, her favorite.
He did not know that she was battling the beast at first so he was concerned with how late it was getting, as she usually let him know if she planned to stay the night with the nymphs. Telemachus asleep for his final nap, as they were trying to have him sleep in the night better. A messenger told him of the catfish however and that eased his worry. He knew the nymphs took care of each other.
Soon later, she leapt from the pool he had built right outside their bedroom. He smiled as he put aside the records he was looking through and went to go meet her.
What had been excitement turned to concern as he watched her, meeting her halfway. He was at first afraid she was possibly wounded. Looking at her somewhat ripped dress. As a naiad-born, she had the ability to heal with her water but he knew how stubborn she was. (Wouldn’t be the first time) While her sharp teeth gleamed with pride as she told him her story, she moved slowly and she was deathly pale. Her usually cold skin felt warm as she pulled him down to kiss his cheeks. She had even forgotten to use her ability to dry herself off, dripping water onto their floor before he reminded her. No, she wasn’t wounded, she was sick .
“I’m fine, dear Joy,” she had told him when he asked if a physician should be summoned. She smiled weakly as he guided her to their bed. With their son asleep, she thankfully didn’t argue with Odysseus about seeing him. “I’m only tired. I just had a scuffle with a beast you know. I’m more angry about that dress that got ruined…”-she shook her head only to stop when she realized it made her nauseous-“It…It was bad, but I stopped as soon as I knew there was something wrong with it and told the others. I definitely didn’t have enough of that monster to get sick from it. Telemachus gave worse stomachaches when I was pregnant.”
He shook his head, tipping her chin towards him to look him in the eye. “Darling, you’re as pale as bone-”
“I’m always pale and you always worry.”
“Penelope-”
“Odysseus,” she tossed back, smiling. When she saw his worried face, she realized this was no time for banter. She softened and kissed his palm . “I am fine … Rest will make it better, you’ll see…If I do get sick, it…it probably will be short. Definitely wasn’t cursed, as that fish was causing problems anyways. I’ll be okay.”
He couldn’t sleep. He curled around her, as they always did, and just watched. She did not face him. He rubbed her back, tracing the constellation of birthmarks and smattering of scales that were placed upon her pale skin. Their legs tangled together. The little black cat she brought from Sparta, Anthos, slept by her torso. All he could think about was his wife’s stomach rumbling and her breathing throughout the short time she was asleep. He ordered maids to be at the ready outside their room.
Strange woman, what sort of trouble did you get yourself into now?
Just as she seemed to finally get restful sleep, making him finally believe that she was right and that she was fine, she wretched his arms off her before her stomach purged itself over the side of their bed. The maids rushed in with buckets and rags as he sat beside her.
Three days. Three days of wiping her lips and face. Of wiping her body down of sweat. Of just waiting . He watched over her most of the time, others only taking over when he couldn’t. Only truly leaving to be with their son, who he gained some comfort from, and for a few bad disputes his parents needed help with. He didn’t leave the palace.
He asked for the physician. Had prayers and a goat sacrificed to both Asclepius and Hygenia. Nothing changed.
Two days in he realized this wasn’t like when she was pregnant or the occasional illness. Whatever was in that wretched fish was causing this. He asked Goddess Athena for an answer, if Penelope had truly been cursed. All she said was she would live, which gave them both relief but he was still frightened and she was still in pain.
She couldn’t even keep water down, the very thing ingrained into her very being. What she lived and breathed in. They made sure to have her dipped in the waters often, to keep her scales from peeling and to bathe her. He had to carry her to the warm bath where he and the maids would wash her. When she wasn’t throwing up, she was exhausted and slept, only to suddenly wake up and vomit once more. Since she could not consume anything, it got to the point where her body was heaving nothing until she started to cry… So dehydrated there weren’t even tears. All he could do was clean and hold her while she shivered in his arms.
“Tel…Telemachus-” she sputtered as he rinsed her neck and chest with a damp cloth. Odysseus quickly pulling his arm back as she began retching once more into the pot in front of her.
Of course, at her worst, she thinks of their son. Odysseus’ heart ached for his wife. The physician (and Lady Athena) said to ‘wait it out. Let her body get rid of the toxins’. But neither the king or queen were good at patience. And Odysseus hated feeling so helpless.
He swallowed the lump that formed in his throat as he waited for her to finish before he comforted her. “Our son is fine, I go play with him when I can. His nurses are feeding and taking care of him right now. He misses you too but you’ll be better and can see him soon.”
He gently wiped at her nose, lips, and chin with a damp rag as she gasped for breath, her hand resting upon her sternum. She shifted. He thought she needed him to move but she whined and shuffled against him. She rested her head against his shoulder and he pulled his arms around her, taking the damp rag to rest against some scales on her collarbone. He rested his chin against her sweaty head, hoping she could not see him grimace at the smell. He waited, watching Actoris replace the pot with a new one.
“Hurts…”
He bit his lip and blinked a few times but put on a smile and squeezed her. “You did just win a fight against a monster fish, love…”
She giggled and looked at him with a tired but sly grin, with some mess still on her lower lip. Gods, he loved her. “Did I really if I’m left like this?”
“Yes,” he pressed a kiss on the side of her head.
She smiled, a good sign but she still trembled against him. Then her mouth twisted and a sob came from her burning throat. “I’m so reckless…should’ve known. It had teeth, Odysseus. That’s not normal for a catfish.”
His lip curled before furrowing his brow and moving his head to look her in the eye. If he had it his way, catfish would no longer be seen on Ithaca. “None of that. The other naiads are just at fault as you are. They didn’t notice either. Aristomache is older than all of us and should’ve known better. Do you blame her? Do you blame them? ”
Penelope, already knowing what her husband was getting at, remained silent. She sniffled once and closed her eyes, exhausted. “...Do you know if they’re okay?”
He huffed, trying to keep some of the annoyance out of his voice. “They’re fine. A messenger was sent to all waterways and all the naiads are fine.”
She curled further into him, not responding. He sighed. “I’m not mad…Not at you at least,” he muttered. He used the back of his knuckle to stroke at the apple of her cheek. “Be gentle to yourself. You’ve recovered so well and are so strong…None of the others are mothers, and you’re the one who killed that thing. You’re doing better than most.”
She looked at him with those silver eyes, before looking back at her hands. His words didn’t necessarily take all those feelings away but she could admit to herself that he was right. He took that as a win regardless.
“I still feel like shit.” She grumbled before leaning over and spitting some phlegm into the new pot. He rolled his eyes at her and wiped at her face again until she reached up to touch his cheek, where dark circles sat upon. Her tired face lined with concern. “Have you…You have rested as well, yes?”
“I have,” he reassured, taking her clammy hand and kissing her wrist.
“You could take another room if you can’t rest while here.”
“I sleep in our nest with you or outside on the dirt.”
She couldn’t help but smile at his bluntness. It was selfish but it brought her great comfort that whenever she was sick, usually within seconds she would feel those warm, rough hands rubbing her back. And if he wasn’t there, she was told he was with their son.
A strand of Penelope’s raven hair fell over her face, tickling her nose. He gently pushed the soft strand back behind a pointed ear. He called to Eurynome from where she was gathering new rags to help redo it. Eurynome braided her hair before tying it up in a wrap around her head, Odysseus keeping Penelope upright.
He picked her up and began to lay her down on their bed only for her to raise her hand and grab his wrist, her grip was weak. She wasn’t completely asleep like they thought. He placed his other hand over hers and leaned closer to hear her. She whispered, “What do those tablets say?”
The king was taken aback, looking where her gaze was pointed. A pile of clay slabs that were resting upon the small table on his side of their nest. Someone must have left them there for him earlier, as she was in no condition to correspond. “I don’t know yet. I will look at them once I know you’re resting-”
“Did Linus respond? I need to know.” She was sitting up now, swaying a bit. Even sick, Penelope’s silver gaze was fierce.
Odysseus gently pushed her back onto the sheets. She didn’t fight him, thankfully, though she still looked at him with demand. His heart warmed. Her stubborn determination was simply one of the reasons he loved her after all. “Dear Wife,” he began softly, rubbing softly at her shoulders with his thumbs. “I don’t need to see those slabs to know that you got the ten oxen you wanted. You would still be there at his house right now demanding him if you hadn’t.”
He took a cool rag to wipe her forehead of sweat. Going under her chin and chest as well, careful of her sensitive breasts. He placed a different warm cloth given to him by Eurynome over top of them to help with the swelling. As she could not feed Telemachus in her condition, and despite her lack of food, they had to make sure infection or mastitis didn’t take root. When she winced, he murmured an apology.
He pulled the blankets over her. She looked up at him, her sharp teeth shined at him. Bright as always. “I want that man ruined, Odysseus. If he thinks he can have some of Ithaca’s finest craftsmanship for just five oxen, then he has no idea who he’s dealing with…”
“I know. He already knows if you ripped into him as you do,” He kissed her forehead. “Now rest, silly woman.”
When he pulled back, she was looking above them where the canopy of their nest was. Odysseus raised a brow before raising his head to see a small gray owl, hiding among the branches.
Athena must have spoken with her, as she looked back at him, sighed and fell asleep. He looked up again and bowed his head in thank you. If all Athena could do was help his wife get some peace then he was grateful nonetheless.
Odysseus pulled Argos closer and rested his head against him. His fur was soft. He traced spirals in his coat. The dog sniffed the wind, lost in his own little world just as his master was.
He had summoned a physician again on the third day, worried about how to get the food she needed. She gave her a mixture that only ended up purged later. A waste of time and of the fine wine he gave as payment.
In the evening, Athena appeared. Telling him the Naiads wished to speak to him. As his Penelope was sleeping, he had Euryclea and Actoris watch over her while he sprinted to see what the nymphs had to say. Aristomache, the oldest of the naiads and often spoke on behalf of all the younger ones, waited on the edge of river bank for him.
She was strangely more formal, having become what he would call mother-in-law figure for him with Penelope’s family so far away. While most would have to supplicate and bring many offerings to their nymphs, they had become a second family to him. Offerings were gifts now. Ithaca had never been so close to it’s nymphs until his new bride came with him almost eight years ago.
She was blunt in her instructions and gave him a strange plant. One with little pearls instead of leaves. Telling him that Penelope must have one pearl and to give them news when she is better again. He asked if this was punishment for his queen. If they had to do more to sate whatever was causing this.
Aristomache gripped his hands tightly and forced him to look at her. “You will not do anything. Penelope was wronged…This is to make up for it.” She gave him a look, her deep blue eyes seeming to cut into him. He simply nodded.
She said nothing more before she sank into the river.
He decided not to question it despite how strange it was as he remained hopeful that this would be what finally helped his wife. He raced back to the palace, the plant in hand. He pulled off a pearl for Penelope as he was told. She had a hard time swallowing it at first. A short moment passed, everyone waiting to see what would happen.
The queen retched up a small black glob that went into the pot with a splat, only to then disappear in a mist. She was exhausted and sank back into the cushions before sleeping once more, frightening him at first, but she was still breathing. He had the room and her be purified while she slept.
She still hasn’t woken up yet.
“Master, she probably needs rest. More now most likely as she was fighting that ailment. She’ll be awake and better soon,” Euryclea had told him, wrinkled hands on his broad shoulder.
He didn’t move. It’s been three days. Three days of her not being able to eat or drink. That…thing might be out of her now, but what of the damage it’s caused?
“It would be best if you rested-”
“Get out,” he muttered, his lip twitching. He whipped around to look at them. “Now! Get out! I want you all out!”
Euryclea jumped back, she knew her king had a temper. “Now My King, she will still need help when she wakes-”
“And?! She’s sleeping now. She and the room have been purified. There is nothing more to be done. So you will get out !” He swallowed and inhaled deeply through his nose. “Check on our son while you’re gone... You will be called upon when she wakes but you will be out of our chamber until then.”
He turned his head back towards their bed once he heard the whispering of the maids and the quick shuffling of feet. One tried to pick up her supplies. “Leave it!” he shouted without looking at her.
She stopped, startled, but did as he ordered and followed the other slaves. The room was empty now.
Tension left his body as he sat on the bed, looking at his sleeping wife. Her cheeks were red and were warm, and her breathing was deep.
His vision blurred, and his eyes burned and so did his throat. A sob escaped him and he lowered his head into his hands. He let the curtain of his thick hair drape over him to hide his face, the ends of it laying against the blanket that covered her body. This wasn’t the first time he wept over her condition and he knew he shouldn’t expect her to bounce up and out after that but… She still looked sick. She hasn’t eaten or drank in days. Even if that sludge was out of her, what if the damage had already been done?
He felt a cold gust against his back, causing a shiver up his spine. He didn’t have to look up to know who it was. He waited for her to speak.
He heard Athena in his mind like usual. Her deep voice echoed in his head with a chuckle. Penelope is asleep and could not hear her right now it seems. “You know, kicking them all out wasn’t necessary.”
He sniffled, tossing his head to throw the auburn locks bouncing once more against his back so he could look at the owl with his red-rimmed eyes. He grabbed a rag and wiped his own face now. And blowing his nose. “Well, they aren’t necessary either.”
“Really? Are you planning to stay up the whole time to watch her when you’re in such a state yourself?”
He glared up at her. She was resting on a branch that came out from their nest. He hated that she seemed to be smiling. And that she was right. He was exhausted as well. Stress, taking care of her, trying to remain relaxed while visiting and playing with Telemachus, half-assing being a king. It was all adding up and his head felt like fog.
“Sleep,” She was suddenly in the form of a young girl. Sitting at the end of their nest. “I’ll make sure she’s well. I knew her before I knew you, you know.”
He couldn’t say no even if he wanted to. His eyes were shutting and he was now the one swaying. He went to the other side of the bed and crawled under the covers. “Wake me when she does, please.”
Athena nodded. He curled up to his wife, resting his head on her shoulder, resting his nose under her jaw�� We need a bath , he thought before sweet sleep fell over him.
It was in the middle of night when he woke up, Athena brushing her feathers against his face to wake him before nodding once in Penelope’s direction and taking flight. This time he stayed awake and lit the oil lamp that rested in it’s special nook on their living bed he made.
He looked at Penelope and hope filled him when he noticed the change. She no longer felt so hot under his touch, her skin going back to it’s familiar coolness. Color started to come back to her face. Her breathing no longer sounded so labored. Anthos laid upon her belly, so he scooped up the cat and placed her to the side. He then looked over her body, checking her scales once for peeling before settling for scratching under Anthos’ chin as he waited.
Penelope was laying on her back when she suddenly sat up and belched loudly. The warm damp cloth that had been laid over her breast fell into her lap.
“Oh, gods-” she said before she covered her mouth. It would’ve been humorous in any other situation.
Odysseus immediately sat up as well, pushing the blankets off himself to kneel on the bed facing her. Her silver eyes bright. She let her hand fall from her mouth as she felt her husband's rough hands cup her face. She blinked, her thick lashes fluttering once.
She watched as her husband’s stormy eyes scanned her with a worried brow and pursed lips. She chuckled at how his hair decided to wake. Parted too far to the right and weirdly flattened on one side.
Odysseus was taken aback by how she looked as she almost looked as though she had never been sick. The bags under her eyes were gone, her skin almost seemed to glow, and her silvery eyes were bright and focused. Tears no longer filled them.
She waited, breathing deeply, reveling in her body working with her again. She opened her mouth slightly, relieved that nothing seemed to buildup just below her throat.
She grinned at her husband, who was now looking over where some of her scales were, having memorized their placement. His hand now brushing over the scattering of some on her left hip once again. He looked back up at her wide-eyed, when she hummed lowly, her throat still burning from the bile of the last few days.
“I think at this point you just want an excuse to look at me…” she rasped.
He snorted. “Since when have I needed an excuse?”
He rested his forehead against hers, her pushing back a slight bit with her own, and he whispered, “How are you feeling? The pearls worked, yes?”
She nodded, then kissed his nose, “I think they worked, my Joy… I think I’ll be okay.”
“Oh, praise the gods! Penelope!” He exhaled and pulled her close.
He placed a few soft kisses on the once sweaty and pale forehead that he would push her hair away from. As she giggled and turned away, he cupped her other cheek, pulling her face closer to his own to continue his affection. The kisses only stopped momentarily as he could not hold back his grin as he squished his nose into her cheekbone, no longer red from fever but from joy. Her sharp teeth glinted as she squirmed. Her body was sore and moving so much hurt her ribs but she couldn’t bring herself to push him away. She leaned away from him, as his hair was tickling her; it only left her neck vulnerable. He nuzzled himself on the pulse point, the same spot he desperately felt during the past few days. Her laughter, although still hoarse, was his goal; she truly meant it when she said she was feeling better.
He shifted, trying to pull her tighter to him when she winced and pushed him back, “Odysseus, my breasts hurt. Not so tightly!”
“Forgive me, I forgot.” He still smiled, giggling himself as he took her freezing hand, a good sign for Penelope, and kissed her calloused fingertips.
Penelope shook her head and took a deep breath, wincing. She took the rag that was in her lap and wiped at the milk that had dribbled out on her. “My ribs definitely hurt as well”-she coughed- “and my throat…Maybe I’m not fully well yet actually.”
He stopped his affections, face suddenly serious. “You don’t think you’ll be sick again, right? You said the pearls helped.”
“Oh, they definitely did. I’ll be fine eventually. Just thisty and hungry and sore,” she said, her usually gorgeous voice hoarse. She swallowed thickly but smiled at him. He was clearly worried and she wanted to give her husband some peace. She rustled his hair so it wasn’t such a mess with her other hand. “But I actually feel pretty good. Though I did just wake up.” She gave him the rag to clean the droplets she left on his own chest.
“Good,” He said, tossing the cloth back when he was done and gave one final kiss on her cool cheek before shuffling off the bed, losing balance as he got tangled up in the blankets before taking off to call back the maids. “We’ll get you something to eat. That’s the only way to test if you’re better.”
He looked out the doorway, somewhat regretting having yelled at the maids to leave earlier. Euryclea was nearby thankfully. Stubborn old woman.
“She’s awake. Bring some food. Let’s try some fruits and bread for now, pomegranates, of course. And bring more water. Wake up the other maids when you finish bringing them. Go.”
He whirled back around and jogged back to where she sat. She was petting Anthos’ black fur as she drank from the little cup that was beside their bed. “Slow down, don’t overdo it…”
She rolled her eyes. To “overdo water” was a silly concept to her as a naiad, but she did drink more slowly. He crawled back on their bed. He started to retie her hair which had fallen out while sleeping. She flicked her wrist and water hopped out of the pitcher once more into the small cup. Anthos curling up beside her.
He began combing her through her soft black hair, running into some of the knots with his fingers and gently undoing them. Going through it more times for his own comfort. She didn’t need anything fancy right now, especially as she should bathe soon. “How’s your stomach? Not feeling sick, right? You haven’t been able to have anything in days…”
“No, Odysseus, I don’t feel sick. I’ll be okay…” He finished tying her hair up with a leather cord and pulled her into his lap. She shifted a slight bit to sit more comfortably before suddenly her eyes got wide. “Th-the council! What day is it?!”
He scoffed and shook his head. He placed his hand over hers. “Rescheduled. Neither of us were in a state where we can go.”
She wrinkled her nose but didn’t argue as he was right. Again.
She squeezed herself up tighter into his strong arms. She had always enjoyed his warmth, always running colder than most mortals with her ancestry; they met in the middle. She traced some freckles on collarbone with her unoccupied hand.
She took another sip from her cup before turning her head and placed a kiss on his collarbone. “Thank you for taking care of me…I know the reason I got better is because of your care.”
“There is no reason to thank me,” he murmured. “I missed you so much.”
She smiled,“I don’t know if a man who barely left my side can say that.”
“This man will say it no matter where he’s been.”
She snorted. “Speaking of which, I know I need a bath. When was the last time you’ve taken one?”
“Since you last had one,” He smirked at the way she wrinkled her nose. “We can take one after you eat.”
She gasped. “TELEMACHUS!” she started to turn away before she grabbed her left side and groaned.
“Just my ribs! Calm down,” She grunted, reassuring him as he reached out towards her. She caught her breath and slowly brought herself back to curl back up against him. Anthos’ head now up looking at them. “I will see Telemachus.”
“You need to eat-”
“Then while we bathe! It’s not like our son isn’t capable of worse smells himself.”
He couldn’t argue with that.
The pitcher was empty by the time Euryclea came in. The plate was soon empty as well. But her stomach remained full.
Odysseus smiled as he sat with Argos now, playing with his floppy ears. That had been this morning. And it was why he was on his own. He told her what the Naiads told him and as always, she immediately was making plans as to what to do. He wanted her to rest and gain her strength back, she wanted him to “do his royal duties”. He was simply keeping his promise to her…
That doesn’t mean that she still wasn’t on his mind. Or that he didn’t sneak in the castle at noon and was reassured by his Euryclea that she hadn’t snuck out or was doing anything too strenous.
“King Odysseus! You’ve been sitting there for a while! Are you well?!”
Argos answered before Odysseus could. His dog, who had been lulled to sleep by his master’s petting, stood up quick and began to bark at the sheep herder. The shepard’s own dogs rising to attention at the possible threat. The sheep surrounding him shuffled about in fear.
Odysseus placed his hand upon the dog’s chest, Argos looking at him before looking back at the other man and his own herding dogs and growling. “Hush Argos, that’s no stranger and you know that,” Odysseus looked back up at Alkaios before grabbing the pile of flowers from the ground. “I’m well! Just lost in my thoughts. Is that the young lamb that you are so worried about resting on your shoulders?”
Alkaios smiled and raised his hand to pat at little lambs head that he was carrying. “Yes, she’s getting strong though! She’ll catch up with the others and I’m sure soon I won’t have to worry about her anymore. And you won’t need to worry about your queen much now that I hear she’s getting better… I’m happy the sheep left you some flowers for your collection there.”
“Yes, I am too,” Odysseus smiled back and couldn’t help but shake his head at the little faces that were crowding around the herder, as though they knew they were being talked about. “Would hate to go back to Penelope empty handed! I’m actually on my way to thank the Naiads for their help.”
“I won’t keep you then! Have a good evening, my king!”
Odysseus nodded as he watched the shepard go over the hill, his flock following close behind. He was happy knowing his sheep were being watched over by Alkaios, always the dutiful shepard.
He held the flowers and tried to reach into his pouch for a leather cord to keep them together and grumbled when he couldn’t find one. Of course, he forgot. He pulled on the cord that piled his hair on his head, releasing the thick spiraling curls over his shoulders and back. It was getting cold with the evening air so having another layer of ‘wool’ was helpful.
He had just finished the knot around the flowers, when he heard Argos whimpering. He whipped his head in his direction, worried his faithful companion was in danger, only to start grinning when he saw the actual problem. “You silly dog, you want it that bad? It’s too big for you!”
His hound was bouncing around a couple of rocks, a large stick sticking out of them. He looked back to his master, tail wagging and pleading with him to pull it out.
Odysseus shook his head but walked over to it. He looked around the stones before he pushed one boulder with his leg and heaved the large stick out. He threw it in the grass where Argos picked it up and started to gnaw on the stick, much too large for him. His head leaning to the side from it’s weight. It was hard to believe that this was the same dog that was capable of taking down good game.
But that’s why Odysseus liked him so much.
“Good dog…Enough dallying. It’s getting late, and I must speak to the nymphs.”
Argos simply crunched on his stick some more.
~~~
Let me know what y'all think! (also if there are spelling errors!) :D I know I have her being stubborn but know that Odysseus behaves the exact same way when sick. They're Likeminded and they behave basically the same in every way.
#odyssey#Mad rambles#shot by odysseus#odypen#penelope#odysseus#epic the musical#fanfiction#fanfic#my writing#Mad Writes#???#sure. Why not?#the odyssey#fluff#tagamemnon#Baby Boy Telemachus comes soon!#please be nice I know I went nuts with my ideas and fluff and it's definitely not accurate but I'm a fluffy person so that's what this is!#I'm a lil terrified but oh well :P
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Hello! Could you do hcs of Telemachus?? Thankyouu
Telemachus x Reader Hcs (Romantic)
Author note: Thank you so much for requesting, this was honestly a big help to snap me out off my writers block 🙏
TW: None. This is fluff.
🕯️ - Having Telemachus as a partner was not something you out right expected, but it wasn’t something you were opposed to. After all, you should be happy that the Prince of Ithaca had chosen you of all people to be his lover.
🏵️- Even so, it still came as a surprise to you. Especially when he came up to you with a sheepish, yet charming look on his face asking if you were free to come walk with him. How could you say no? But that’s the thing,.you didn’t.
🕯️- It happened late in the afternoon..the Greek sun high in the sky as you stood in front of your home sweeping dust away to make the place looks somewhat presentable and out of nowhere he showed up. Looking as awkward as a young teenaged boy asking his crush to prom.
🏵️- Introducing himself and asking for your name which you happily gave him before he told you why he was here. He looked a little nervous at first but when you agreed to his offer he couldn’t have been happier. And that’s just about how your meeting went with the young prince and from that day forward, he’d come by whenever you were free and asked to go for a walk.
🕯️-And for the first few months you enjoyed his company. You’d often find yourself over at the palace watching him train or listening to him ramble about his future plans.
🏵️-If you’re the type to ramble as well, he’ll gladly be quiet and listen to you rant on about anything and everything. And even if you don’t, he still loves to listen to you. Your voice being a source of comfort. 🕯️-He’ll often confide in you about how he misses his father and how he hopes that he comes home soon..
🏵️- It’s been years! And of course you haven’t seen the king too- you were both nothing but babies at the times most of the men and Odysseus were called into war.
🕯️- Of course you’d comfort the prince, telling that it’d be okay and that his father would come sooner than later, which Telemachus appreciated.
🏵️-Soon enough though, Telemachus found himself staring to fall for you and he wasted no time in showing up at your home and asking if it would be alright for him to court you.
🕯️-The look of surprise on your face made him worried at first, thinking you’d say no to him. But you didn’t- you actually said yes.
🏵️- And he couldn’t have been happier, of course he immediately took you into his arms and spun you around, nuzzling his face into your neck before putting you down and taking your hand to go and spend time with you.
🕯️- His love language is acts of service and physical touch. He loves to just hold your hand or do things for you, anything at all. You need help cleaning? He’s over at your house immediately. You want someone to come with you to the market? He’ll be your personal chaperone.
🏵️- He’s not much of a cook but he tries he’s best, often asking his mother, Penelope or some servants for advice on how to improve.
🕯️- Telemachus just can’t wait for the day his dad comes home, wanting to introduce you to him and hopefully getting his approval.
🏵️- And when you finally do meet the king himself, he accepts you with open arms. Even if he was a bit apprehensive at first, but anything for his son.
🕯️- Telemachus isn’t too possessive, but he is protective to an extent. Like his father with the suitors, he’s willing to swing a sword if he has to, he can’t stand the idea of someone trying to, or rather attempt at wooing you.
🏵️- He loves to call you his ‘Little sparrow..’, to him, it just fits. Of course he’ll call you the usual nicknames, like ‘my love’ , ‘darling’, ‘sweetheart’.. but his main one it sweet song bird nicknames.
🕯️- He’s definitely the type of man to fuss over you if you get injured. Making sure you’re alright first, asking what caused it then ranting about how you need to be more careful, even just a little. After he patches you up he gives you a kiss before pulling you into his arms.
🏵️- Finally, Telemachus is the type of man to value those sweet little moments you both have. When you finally share a bed, he treasures the small moments before you go to sleep..rubbing your back softly and cooing or early in the morning..10 minutes before you both decide to get up.. whispering sweet nothings to you and massaging your arm lightly..peppering your cheeks with kisses.
Eeeeee! This was fun to right other than my usual boys. Thank you for requesting, I hope you enjoy this. I’m sorry it’s a bit shorter Tyana I wanted, I tried my best- but if I get more Telemachus requests I’ll improve on the hcs and probably X readers too.💕
#greek mythology#greek epic#mythology#greek mythology au#telemachus#telemachus x reader#X reader#ancient greek mythology#greek heroes x reader#greek heroes x oc#request#hcs#the iliad#the odyssey#crushing on characters from mythology#crushing on greek mythology characters#telemachus of Ithaca#gn reader#fem reader
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ANOTHER LITTLE WOLF
RAR!
This idea, like many others, has been sitting in my notes for some time, and just the other day my friend and I discussed it (and we will obviously continue this, as always) Honestly, I don't remember where it all originally came from, but relatively recently this idea came to another friend of mine in a chat, then I remembered the notes and... now the post is in front of you!
What if Antinous had a younger brother? Okay, this idea has been developing for a long time and is still developing, but for now we have such a number of ideas for, probably, a new AU
• The younger brother was essentially supposed to be the same age as Telemachus. (And you should remember this, you will find out why exactly ;) )
• His name, like Aphemachus, not accidental, but again has its own meaning. We thought for a long time about what to call it so that it would be cool and interesting, the very first option wasn't particularly difficult - Evrynous (there was supposed to be a joke here, but I don't know how to present it correctly in english, but you'll get the gist as you read) , but for now we have settled on "Clamalycus ". Now for the explanation (MY FAVORITE PART AAA) Everything again comes from two greek words "Κλάμα" and "Λύκος", meaning "Crying" and "Wolf", and as a result we have "Crying wolf"! Wolf, because well, it sounds menacing and we've all heard (not) enough "Wolf" in LW that my co-writer and I couldn't resist making that reference. And crying refers to his constant behavior
• Yes, the younger brother cried a lot since birth, in absolutely any situation and for a long time, and very heart-rendingly. This habit remained with him, even when he grew older. He quarrels with someone - shouts and cries, he is offended by Antinous - shouts and cries, he fight with someone - SHOUTS AND CRIES. He cries not because of sadness, but aggressively, if I may say so.
Someone: *thinks it's a special fighting tactic to confuse the enemy and defeat him, respects the boy* Clam: *just can't hold back tears and is always crying* EM... YES, THAT'S,DAMN, IT!
• Antinous and his father, Eupeithes, also had a long decision about what to name the infant. Father was thinking of something majestic, referring to someone great, but with the same particle "lycus".
Eupeithes: hmm...how about Heraclycus? No-no... Proclycus! No, Autolycus is perfect!
Little Antinous, who, after 7 hours of his brother's crying, is ready to either hit his head against the wall, or hit his brother's head against the wall: What??? "Autolycus"?!?! With such a cry that deafens all of kingdom, he is the only real Clamalycus!
• Yes, the childishly irritated comment unexpectedly pleased the father, which is why they settled on this name for the baby and the baby himself responded only to this name, so yeah XD
• And yes, there were moments when Antinous actually considered killing his little brother, simply cause the crying was so unbearable. But he never did this, but often hinted at it, no, even said it outright, so that his brother would be afraid of him and wouldn't cry and anger him (and this, naturally, didn't work)
• Also, for some inexplicable reason, these two are always arguing, cursing each other and wishing to die soon. They are like fire - no one knows who lit the flame of hatred first, no one knows how long it will burn and no one knows how to put it out. Even their father couldn't make them become friends, so every morning they start not with "Good morning", but with "I HATE YOU!", " OH, NOOO, I HATE YOU, YOU LITTLE CRYING SHIT!", " WOULD HAVE BEEN BETTER IF I HAD STRANGLED YOU IN YOUR OWN CRADLE", " WOULD HAVE BEEN BETTER IF YOUR FRIENDS HAD CUT YOUR THROAT!".
Clamalycus: *Getting ready to go somewhere* Antinous: Be so kind, little bastard, and die somewhere, tripping over the first stone. Clamalycus, mimicking: "Be so kind, little bastard, and die somewhere, tripping over the first stone. Me-me-me..." (๑•̀ㅂ•́)
• They reminded me of Michael and the crying boy from the FNAF series, but with a more intense and aggressive relationship. And then my best friend remembered Belphegor with Rasiel and said that they reminded me of them in some way (and then I started re-watching this old miracle. WHY IS SQUALO SO BRUTAL-)
The second part will be today/tomorrow, but for now don't forget to also read about other au's that are on my best friend's blog! It's just a miracle, really, reader! @gareleia
updated: El gave me permission to mention her yeah, she had a hand in this idea and actually helped me remember it, so thanks u SM! :D @elianzis
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WISDOM SAGA THOUGHTS 🎉🎉🎉🎉
Guys, this saga had me in shambles. I had to wait til the morning of the 30th to listen so listening to it before breakfast WRECKED me.
Legendary 🐕
The instrumentals go so hard like it's so chill
In the first verse, Telemachus reminds me so much of Polites. like bring the world so light? open arms who?
the pre chorus has some of my favorite lyrics jay has ever written. like 'Cause I'm stuck with your stories/But no clue who you are/And no idea if you're dead or just too far/Somebody tell me, come and give me a sign/If I fight those monsters, is it you I'll find?
ALSO THIS SONG HAVING THE MELODY FROM FULL SPEED AHEAD THE "polites gear up, you and i'll go ahead" PART
the chorus i love because it references all the monsters Ody has had to fight
The second verse is so like real. like Telemachus is just singing his heart out about his problems
The suitors sound so much like the sailors, which hurts my heart. like these are the voices of the men that were friends with ody. now they are tryin to get his wife
Telemachus' last line is sending me like "If I fight this monster/Is it you I'll find?" like bro you find his old bestie, badass senorita
Little wolf 🐺
So this song sounds really good musically. I can see the evil sutiors from the "dark" and "evil" sounds jay uses
The chorus/ what the suitors are chanting is really cool
Athena coming to his rescue has my whole heart like its so cute
Telemachus is just a little baby like he's my little boy
love Love LOVE how athena turned the suitors chant into her own like she's in his corner rooting for him
Also Teagan's riff is so prettyyyyy
We'll be fine 👍
This is my favorite song in this saga. I just wish it was longerrr
Like Athena literally describing Ody and comparing him to Telemachus is just so sweet
Also the lyrics call back to my goodbye because ody said "What's a title that a goddess could lend/ If I'll never sleep at night?" and in this song Athena says "Maybe, if I helped you reach your goal/Life could be that bright/I could sleep at night"
Telemachus is just so gentle with Athena, I think that is what she needs because i guess she thought Telemachus would hate her because of what she did to his dad but Telemachus just has so much Polites energy like bro is precious
THIS LINE SPECIFICALLY "I don't think he'll mind/If not his friend, then mine" 😭😭😭😭😭
Both of their voices blend so well together like its so cute
"You're a good kid" AHHHHHHHHHH
Love in Paradise 🏝
Athena calling him old friend has my heart
The callbacks to the other songs is just amazing. they blend so well together, i kinda want to make it my ringtone
Calypso's beat is so good like its so beachy and calm
the "did you know you talk in your sleep?" line reminds me of the scene from PJO from the 4th book when Percy wakes up on Calypso's island
the silence after "she's my wife" is soooo funny to me
Calypso's verse is so good like the notes and beat are so pretty
the goddess can't die line beat is soo good like her laugh is so pretty
THE TIME JUMP !!!!!!
Ody calling back to the underworld lyrics is amazing to me
THE STAY IN MY OPEN ARMS LINE HAS ME DEAD LIKE DON'T DISRESPECT MY POLITES POOKIE
I literally was thinking last night, 'if i hear polites in the wisdom saga, i will be losing my shit' can confirm, have lost my shit
Polites, Eury, and Ody's mom's voices all blend together so well like OMG it hurts
and Ody calling out for Athena is so cute like for once he's admitting he needs help
So, this saga is officially my favorite. I'll post god games soon. That one has a lot more to unpack. I love this community sm. Kinda sad that we didn't get to hear any Penelope tho.
Stay weird, guys
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Musings
The first English translation of Homer’s Odyssey was completed in 1615, by classicist, dramatist, and poet George Chapman. He begins:
The man, O Muse, inform, that many a way
Wound with his wisdom to his wished stay;
The first time I read the Odyssey was the summer before ninth grade. I had applied to a bougie private high school that I later chose not to attend, but as an acceptance gift they sent me a beautiful golden book, the Robert Fagles 1996 blank verse translation of the Odyssey. His first line:
Sing to me of the man, Muse, the man of twists and turns
driven time and again off course,
At the time I had only the vaguest notion of the plot of the epic. I knew, or I thought I knew, that it was the story of Odysseus and his journey home, punctuated with an endless series of wild monsters and treacherous encounters. When I opened the book I was shocked to find that the Odyssey begins not with the adventure of the titular hero, but back home in Ithaca with his mopey abandoned son. My second shock came shortly after, when the goddess Athena descends to earth to inspire said mope, and does so in the form of Mentes, a man.
I reread the lines to make sure I hadn’t missed anything in the confusing clamor of ancient verse. Athena disguised as a man? Surely that couldn’t be right. But it was. Every single disguise of Athena, sans one, was a man. Not only that, there were multiple scenes where mortals recognize her for her true nature and yet still regard her in her guise. In those moments she existed as goddess and mortal, female and male simultaneously. It was almost too much to handle.
400 years after George Chapman, Emily Wilson became the first woman to translate the Odyssey into English. She hurled a book through a millenia’s glass ceiling and when it landed it opened to:
Tell me about a complicated man.
Muse, tell me how he wandered and was lost.
At age 14 I wandered from a tiny private Jewish middle school into Boston Latin Academy and was promptly lost. Trapped in the practices of the past 300 odd years, every student was required to take 3-4 years of Latin. The first year was relentlessly boring. We bumbled our way through the textbook, memorizing endings and grammatical rules as though the language was a series of mathematical formulas and not something to be read and spoken and learned.
In tenth grade I cut my hair. For years I had kept my waist-length hair in a thick side braid and in a day it was all gone. I can’t for the life of me remember what was it that made me do it, or when I got the idea. At some point I started telling people that I was thinking about it, and then I started telling people that I was going to do it, and then I did it. Anybody who has gone abruptly from long hair to short knows the miracle of the first shower: the giddy lightness that moves from your neck down through your whole body.
We started reading real Latin in class and suddenly the language became alive. I wrestled with the text to produce a messy grammatical translation at the bottom of my page and then neatly rewrote a more pleasing version alongside the columns of poetry. I doodled all across the back of the pages--beautiful Greek men with flowing hair, columns and bays, Icarus, wings outspread, falling into the sea. Aphrodite descends to earth in disguise as a young huntress. I search between the pages for Athena.
Near the city of Crete lived an unremarkable but blameless man and his unremarkable wife. So scared was he of the pain of raising a daughter that he delivered the ultimate warning to his wife: if their child should be born a girl, she must be killed. Only a boy should live. We all know the story--with the dropping of the ultimatum, the course of the tale is sealed. The mother will have a baby girl and she will be unable to destroy her. In this tale there are no babies in baskets, or foundlings left in the woods. Instead, instructed by a goddess, the mother conspires with a nurse to raise the child as a boy. The father names the child Iphis, after his father, and the mother is happy because the name suits a boy or girl and it removes part of the burden of the lie. The child grows up fine and beautiful, with all the best features of the male and female. Their disguise is unquestioned, and they grow up happy, sharing their childhood with a friend, Ianthe. We know this story too. Young love blossoms, and soon the two are engaged, to the delight of father and the despair of mother and child.
I read this story properly for the first time, in Latin, in the summer of 2020, with the help of my Greek professor. At the beginning of our Greek class the year before we had each chosen Greek names. I was fascinated by the gender play in this story, and so I stole the name Ianthe from it. I am drawn much more to Iphis, of course, but I find the name Ianthe more lovely. And perhaps it is fitting that I embody that fascination with the choice of the name of the character so in love with Iphis, whatever gender they may be.
Burning with love and chafing at the equal ardor of Ianthe, Iphis cries out in despair to the gods.
“If the gods want to spare me, then they ought to spare me already! If not, if they wish to destroy me, then at least deal me some regular harm, according to the laws of nature! Never has love of mares consumed a mare, or of cows a cow: sheep love rams, and stags chase after does, the females of their own kind. Thus too birds couple, and amongst each and every type of animal, no woman is seized by feminine desire. I wish I were no woman!”
We reach this part of the poem and I am compelled to stop and reach through the text, to try in vain to comfort the grieving lover. You’re not broken at all, poor girl. You’re not alone.
My professor asks me if I knew the story when I chose my name, and I tell her that I did. I am always aching to be recognized, to be seen, but at the same time I want to reassure her that this angst of Iphis’ which dominates the text is not a pain I have had to bear. Blessed by my circumstances, I have never once resented who I am. I have never been made to feel unnatural, and I have never felt alone. Again, perhaps it was right that I chose to become Ianthe, the unwitting and undisturbed bride who manages to never hear a thing about the anguish that surrounds her betrothal.
The end of the story offers a neat resolution-the goddess hears Ianthe’s prayers and transforms her into a man. Light the marriage torches and sound the bells! I am torn in every direction. I don’t know what’s more important--the love of a woman for a woman, the ability for a character to straddle the line between gender, or the transformation from woman to man. Despite knowing that the social construct of gender in Roman times is far from the one I exist within, I can’t help wondering about Iphis after the curtains close. Are they happier as a man? Are they a man at all, or a woman in the body of a man? Was gender ever anything for them other than a weight around their neck, or a performance to play? I translate and translate and wonder what pronouns to use, reading the word woman again and again.
Iphis leaves a gift in the temple, dedicated to the goddess with an inscription:
DONA: PVER: SOLVIT: QVAE: FEMINA: VOVERAT: IPHIS.
A boy pays this gift, which a woman had pledged, Iphis.
I take a spoken Latin class and think of using neuter endings for myself and then I don’t. I go from “she/her” to “she/they” to “any pronouns.”
O Muse, instruct me of the man who drew
His changeful course through wanderings not a few,
Trans. John William Mackail, 1903.
Athena comes to earth as Mentes. Aristophanes jests with his tale of the original third androgynous gender as pretty boys vie for spots on the ground next to Socrates.
Tell me, O Muse, of the Shifty, the man who wandered afar.
Trans. William Morris, 1887.
The goddess commands that Iphis live as a baby girl until she can grow into a man. I bind my chest with medical tape and stick socks in my jeans and write my first original ancient Greek poem.
Tell me the tale, Muse, of that man
Of many changes,
Trans. Herbert Bates, 1929.
Telemachus strings up a line of women like caught bird for the crime of being sex slaves and translator Fagles kills them again when he calls them “sluts” and “whores” where the Greek says “sleeping.”
This is the story of a man, one who
was never at a loss.
Trans. William Henry Denham Rouse, 1937
I’m letting my hair grow out again, in an undercut this time. Quarantine has seen me take at last to the clippers, shaving the sides and leaving the rest to grow. It’s long enough now to tuck behind my ears. I’ve spent my Saturdays chanting the Odyssey in a sing-song up and down my house and yard. I’ve memorized over 50 lines by now, but none as powerful as that eternal first. Someday I’ll translate it too. I imagine how appropriate it will be to have a little “trans.” before my name.
The first word of the Odyssey is Ἄνδρα, Andra-man. I take the man inside of me, right next to the woman and the thing which is neither, and I work on translating myself.
#classics#original#my writing#ancient greek#latin#translation#gender and sexuality#long post#here have an essay i wrote for class#iphis and ianthe#ovid#the odyssey#homer#translating homer#gender
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Better late than never?! ;)
Hey all,
I thought I’d post this here, since quite a few of the posts seem to be about a shared love of fanfic - particularly of the whump variety.
So…as usual, I’m late to the party - but better late than never, I guess?
Anyway, in case anybody actually cares…I have FINALLY hopped on board the whump fanfiction train.
My desire to get a ticket started off when I was about twelve or so, I guess, and my family decided to introduce me to the marvel that is ‘50s-'60s western series: chiefly 'Bonanza’ and 'Rawhide’. It took less than five minutes for the whump to hit me (brace yourselves for a cringeworthy simile!) …you guessed it, like a train. I mean - cutiepie Michael Landon as Little Joe Cartwright everytime he got hurt/shot/beaten up?
And a young Clint Eastwood as ramrod Rowdy Yates (who knew he had such a baby face?!?!) that time everyone thought he’d contracted anthrax?
Fanfic emerged as a matter of course - first as something confined solely to the boundaries of my imagination, and then, gradually, as hasty, half-formed scribblings stashed away in the bottom drawer of my desk - seemingly fated never to see the light of day. I’d never heard of online sites where people just like me put up these thoughts and stories for others to read - and then, one fateful day in Grade 8, my best friend told me about a little thing called 'fanfiction.net’.
It was like the world opened up (not at all an overdramatic statement, I assure you!). All of a sudden, here was an entire virtual library of stories - ranging from pointed paragraphs to full novels - about my beloved characters…which not only included the Cartwright family and the Gil Favor drive, to my delight, but also Sherlock Holmes…Napoleon Solo and Illya Kuryakin…the entire IMF team (original Mission: Impossible, anyone?)…David Janssen’s Dr. Richard Kimble ('The Fugitive’)…Obi-Wan Kenobi…Captain Jack Sparrow…and so many others.
At first I gravitated to fics that contained only characters I knew…but I soon branched out by browsing through the works and favorited stories/authors of my favorite writers. For example, I discovered a heretofore unknown love for LOTR through fanfiction - for which I must thank the very talented writing team of Cassia and Siobhan - and along with it, a passion for the previously-ignored Legolas:
As I matured, so did the nature of the fanworks I sought to read…and here I faced my first real quandary - my own writing wasn’t good enough! Fanfiction wasn’t merely a frivolous pastime, I had realized - for the serious authors, there was a drive to achieve a certain realism, an emotional depth, that I had erroneously thought could only be found in classic published literature. And things didn’t always have to get physical, either. Writers like geekmama, honorat (Pirates of the Caribbean), librophile, ruth baulding (Star Wars), St. Crispins (Man from U.N.C.L.E.), Thundera Tiger, telemachus and consumptive_sphinx from AO3, which I discovered only a few years ago (LOTR and Tolkien’s writings), and many, many more could torture and turn their characters into wrecks without laying a figurative finger on them…
These were people who wrote whump with style.
For several years, as a result, I was a silent participant in fanfic - remaining a reader only. The scant few works that I’d begun posting I either took down or left unfinished…
And then, in November of 2014, inspiration hit. In fifteen minutes I typed up what I understand is called a 'drabble’…and posted my first ever complete fanwork. It was for the 'Star Wars’ prequel trilogy, and I called it 'Travels’ (https://www.fanfiction.net/s/10811942/1/Travels). I asked for reviews - and got them! People actually liked what I had to say!
I tried writing again - and again, and again. My first attempts turned into the beginnings of novel-length stories that were destined never to be completed.
I grew discouraged…until I went back to basics. What had made 'Travels’ successful? Its simplicity - a focus on a single, overarching concept, and a setting limited to a brief moment in time. With that in mind, I sallied forth once more - and came up with 'Prima Facie’ (https://www.fanfiction.net/s/11637656/1/Prima-Facie-The-Scarlet-And-The-Ivory) and 'Rift’ (https://www.fanfiction.net/s/10897388/1/Rift). Much later, after discovering Tim Burton’s films, came a fic for 'Sleepy Hollow’ called 'Before the Half-Shut Eye’ (https://www.fanfiction.net/s/12900323/1/Before-The-Half-Shut-Eye).
I had discovered my strengths as a writer - character study and introspection - rather than extensive plot development…as always, it goes without saying, grounded in whump.
And then, last year…I finally watched 'The Hobbit’…
The rest, as they say…is history.
Move over, Legolas - I want more of pretty elf-boy’s prettier dad!
And did I get it…watching the behind the scenes videos on YouTube, I wound my way to:
ALL ABOARD FOR LEE PACE!
What’s not to love? The drop-dead gorgeousness…the versatility…
…And, oh my sweet LORD - the potential for whump:
Consider this: I’ve written the same complete fanfics just from December 2018 that I wrote over the course of four years - every single one of them for Lee Pace characters. Two are for 'The Fall’ - 'Scraps of Orange Peel’ (https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13220805/1/Scraps-of-Orange-Peel) and 'Persephone’ (https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13151538/1/Persephone), one is for 'Halt and Catch Fire’ - 'Logic Error’ (https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13269415/1/Logic-Error), and one is a (rather dark?) reworking of another author’s fantastically sad 'Pushing Daisies’ all-normal AU - 'Baker’s Dozen or Life in Twenty-Six Parts’ (https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13199725/1/Baker-s-Dozen-or-Life-in-Twenty-Six-Parts)…which also happens to be, hands-down, the longest piece I’ve ever attempted.
And, if my brain has anything to say about it, there seem to be plenty more to come.
Hey, what can I say? Lee makes for the perfect muse.
Besides…how can you say no to this smile?
#sorry anon#I have no idea if I've posted this before so here goes#Thranduil#lee pace#fanfiction#submission
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He was a bouncer, she loved music, he wanted to join the Army — these are the victims of the Borderline shooting
The neighborhood bar they all came to for a casual midweek night out was like one big community living room.
It was the kind of place where you might run into a Little League coach or a neighbor or the owner of a local coffee shop you liked, the kind of place where people of a wide range of ages felt secure.
It had long been a hangout of students from the colleges nearby.
Borderline Bar and Grill had theme nights. Every Wednesday was College Country Night.
One of those who would die after a former Marine opened fire there Wednesday night was a college student who had recently been to the bar’s College Country Night Halloween Hoedown.
Another was a sheriff’s sergeant who quickly responded to the scene.
Among the others were a father who hoped to find his path with a coffee shop he had opened, a college freshman who dreamed of being a singer and a former Marine who devoted himself to helping fellow veterans adjust to coming home.
These are some of their stories:
For years, Sean Adler hopped from job to job, looking for his passion.
Sean Adler (family photo)
He was a salesman who also coached soccer and taekwondo. He trained to become a deputy with the Los Angeles County Sheriff’s Department — but then he had a heart attack and had to change course.
Over the summer, he proudly opened a coffee shop. He called it Rivalry Roasters.
On one of its walls, a sign read: “Collect moments, not things.”
While the business got going, Sean continued working as a bouncer at Borderline Bar and Grill to support his wife and two sons, ages 17 and 12.
He was working at the bar when he was killed.
Debbie Nieser, a childhood friend, said he had charisma.
“He was just a very caring guy that was a lot of fun,” she said. “He was someone that went after his dreams, someone who was always trying to find his dreams, someone who connected with many different types of people.”
Outside Rivalry on Wednesday afternoon, bouquets had been placed at the door. People left notes about Sean’s kindness.
“These flowers are nowhere near as vibrant as you were,” read one.
(Kent Nishimura / Los Angeles Times)
The last thing Cody’s father, Jason Coffman, told his boy was “I love you, Son.”
Cody was his father’s fishing buddy, even as a small child.
“That poor boy would come with me whether he liked it or not,” Coffman said. “That’s the kind of stuff that I’m truly going to miss.”
On Thursday, Jason Coffman wiped away tears as he spoke about his loss.
He said Cody’s friends had shown up at his door in the middle of the night. They said they had gotten out, but no one had heard from Cody.
The Little League coach had many plans for the future. He wanted to join the Army. He was also expecting a baby sister soon.
At least once a week, he would show up at Borderline Bar and Grill to line dance.
When he left his family’s home on Wednesday, he was wearing a new pair of pants to go with his signature cowboy boots.
“I cannot believe that it’s happened in my family,” Jason Coffman said. “I am speechless and heartbroken.”
Music was a passion for Alaina Housley, a freshman at Pepperdine University.
She was thinking of taking a musical theater class and had dreams of becoming a singer.
On Wednesday, she was on the dance floor with friends when the shooting started. Her friends jumped through a broken window to escape, but they lost her in the chaos.
Alaina’s Apple Watch and iPhone still showed her location on the dance floor as her uncle, Adam Housley, searched hospitals.
Actress Tamera Mowry-Housley, her aunt, began to search for her in the early morning hours, to no avail. Later, the family said in a statement:
“Alaina was an incredible young woman with so much life ahead of her and we are devastated that her life was cut short in this manner.”
Luke Sides, a fellow Pepperdine student, said he met Alaina last spring on campus. She had just been dropped off by her parents and was sitting alone when Sides, 19, introduced himself. She seemed relieved to make a new friend, he said.
It didn’t take her long to make many more.
“She was just a really sweet girl,” Sides said. “Whenever I had any problems, she would always reach out and helped me.”
Dan Manrique (Photo courtesy of Manrique family)
Dan Manrique dedicated his life to service.
He served in the Marines as a radio operator. Then, when he returned from the Middle East to his hometown of Thousand Oaks, he worked to help veterans settle back into civilian life.
“He was selfless,” said his brother, Marcos Manrique, 23. “He just wanted to help this country.”
Marcos Manrique said people told him that Dan was standing in the parking lot of Borderline Bar and Grill when the shots were fired — and that he ran in to help.
“I just want him to be remembered as a true hero,” Marcos Manrique said.
Dan was the oldest of four siblings. He had recently gotten a good job at a nonprofit serving veterans called Team Red, White & Blue.
He planned to move out of his parents’ house soon and had dreams of starting a brewing company.
Jaclyn Pieper, 33, who met Manrique in middle school, said that he was positive, always trying to find the upside.
Pieper woke up Thursday and began texting all the friends she knew had been at the bar.
Everybody answered promptly — except Dan.
So many people at Borderline Bar and Grill knew Justin Meek.
He was the bouncer and bar promoter — and if you mentioned his name at the entrance, you got a discount.
“See y’all tonight!!” he wrote in his final Instagram post. “Say Justin at the door.”
When Justin wasn’t working at the bar, he was helping kids with autism at Channel Islands Social Services.He helped with birthday parties, family events and also sang in a quartet.
“Justin was an exceptionally kind and gifted young man who always went out of his way to help others,” said Sharon Francis, the organization’s chief executive officer.
Several survivors of the bar shooting said Justin was shot trying to save others.
The recent graduate had just gotten his bachelor’s degree in criminal justice from California Lutheran University.
On his Facebook page, he posted a photo after the Las Vegas shooting, asking for prayers. He also reminded friends to not forget the 9/11 terrorist attack.
Leah Marty, a friend, said Justin was always friendly, cracking jokes and planning group outings.
He once encouraged her to join a line-dancing club on campus.
“I can’t dance,” she recalled telling him. “Me neither!” he responded.
On Thursday, she smiled at the memory.
A few days before the shooting, Kristina Morisette’s dad, Michael, was nervous to see his daughter board a plane to Austin, Texas.
He worried for her safety.
His daughter was stubborn and convinced him she would be fine. And she was.
Kristina Morisette (Martha Morisette)
On Wednesday, Kristina headed out to her 6 p.m. shift at Borderline, leaving her mother with a coin purse, a memento from Austin.
After they learned of the shooting, the Morisettes spent hours with other families, waiting for news.
At 12:30 p.m. on Thursday, they learned that the youngest of their three children had died.
They drove home to Simi Valley in a fog of grief.
“We could either retreat and draw our curtains or we could talk about the beauty of the things that were,” said Michael Morisette, as he held his wife’s hand in their family room on Thursday afternoon.
Kristina was talkative and her friends were the very center of her life, the Morisettes said.
She was quick to console others or offer a friend a ride. She had just bought her first car — a 2017 Jeep Renegade — with the money she had saved from working at the bar.
“We didn’t want her life to end,” said her mother, Martha Morisette. “But we don’t want her memories now to end, either.”
Telemachus Orfanos survived the mass shooting in Las Vegas last year only to be killed Wednesday night at Borderline Bar and Grill.
His mother, Susan Schmidt-Orfanos, could hardly speak as she sobbed over the phone.
“I don’t have anything else to say except more gun control,” she said.
Schmidt-Orfanos told KABC-TV that her son had gone to Las Vegas with a friend and made it home.
“He didn’t come home last night,” she said. “And I don’t want prayers, I don’t want thoughts, I want gun control and I hope to God nobody sends me any more prayers.”
On his Facebook page, Orfanos wrote that he worked at Infiniti of Thousand Oaks and had served in the Navy.
Noel Sparks was a student at Moorpark College.
At one time, she had been active in church, a member of the youth group and the choir, said Walter Dilg, a senior pastor at United Methodist Church in Westlake Village.
She left several years ago to attend Calvary Chapel.
“It is with heavy hearts that we notify you that Noel Sparks was among the victims of last night’s shooting,��� said a United Methodist Facebook post.
Noel had been to Borderline Bar and Grill before. In late October, she posted on her Facebook page that she would be attending the bar’s College Country Night Halloween Hoedown.
Early Thursday morning, Jennifer Avalos was searching frantically for her best friend. They had met at church two years ago.
Avalos cried as she stood outside the Thousand Oaks Teen Center.
“She’s been there for me through difficult times,” she said.
This story was written by Times staff writers Esmeralda Bermudez, Andrea Castillo, Melissa Etehad, Marisa Gerber, Sonali Kohli, Laura Newberry, Benjamin Oreskes, Alejandra Reyes-Velarde and Nicole Santa Cruz.
7:20 p.m.: This article was updated to add victims Kristina Morisette and Telemachus Orfanos.
5:20 p.m.: This article was updated to include two new victims: Dan Manrique and Noel Sparks.
4:10 p.m.: This article was updated to include details about Sean Adler.
2 p.m: This article was updated to include additional details about Housley and Meek.
1:50 p.m.: This article was updated to provide more information about Helus, Housley and Meek.
12:50 p.m. This article was updated to include two more victims, Alaina Housley and Justin Meek.
This article was originally published at 11:30 a.m.
This content was originally published here.
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Future Plot: Project Prometheus - Chapter 8
(( Sandra, Justinian, Telemachus, and Pyrrhus/Chaodis belong to me
Camille, Marina, and Pacling (mentioned) belong to @inklingleesquidly
Nebula and Wish belong to @myzzy and @agenttwo
Mysteeri belongs to @dreadangel
Designs of Marina and Wish belong to @teamuntyblue
Emerald and Sapphire belong to @twelvetailedkitsune and @son-of-joy
Celeste belong to @alpinesquid
Arsenic belongs to @a-demo-of-a-hero
Jovana belongs to [Classified] ))
This will be the end of the trips to part of the Mediterranean. Camille wakes up immediately prepare herself and her Party to leave Jur Jur Falls without Athena and Artemis knowing.
Once Camille returns to Mount Olympus, she will demand passage to the Underworld with all the Olympian Champions: Nebula, Mysteeri, Sandra, Justinian, Emerald, Sapphire, Arsenic, Celeste, and Pyrrhus. It may be nearly half of the Olympian Pantheon, but it's enough for Camille when she faces Moros. Plus, she had Jovana on her side, and her time powers is a great asset in the fight.
When she came back to Olympus with her Party, her demand to bring all the Champions to the Underworld is brought up to Hestia at the Olympian Acropolis. Camille face both Hestia and Hephaestus; This time, Zeus, Poseidon, and Hades took the time to attend since they were stopping by Olympus.
"You want to go there?" Hestia looked surprised.
"Going to the Underworld?" Hephaestus is alarmed.
"Ares told me where Moros is, so let me go to the Underworld! I'm done dreaming and travel all around places. All those signs of the Children of Nyx mean nothing!" Camille puts her foot down. "And I don't care if it's trespassing! It's either my parents or Hades' head!"
Hades raised a few undead beings from the cracks of the floor. Zeus however, gestures him to remain calm. Hades shook his head and let the dead rest. Zeus stood up, trying to reason.
"Champion of Athena, if you really want to access the Underworld freely, you need Hades' permission." Zeus looks to Hades. "And what you said--"
Hades stands up. "I will allow it."
Poseidon looked at Hades. "They're not ready to fight Moros."
"The Pantheon will not risk it," Zeus supported.
Hades ignored his brothers. "We still have to carry our sentences for Troy. I will sacrifice my sentence to guide you Champions."
Hephaestus, Hestia, Zeus, and Poseidon found this decision inevitable for some reason. They looked to Camille to see what she thinks.
Camille nods. "Whatever helps me get close to Mommy and Daddy, I'll take it."
"You do realize the risk once you face Moros with what you have," Hephaestus questioned.
"And we've all seen how powerful Moros is," Zeus warns.
"I don't care. What I have enough for me." Camille just wants to get this over with.
It's just some bad dream right? Camille thought to herself. The Titanomachy, the dreams, all this... It's just a dream. The Argonauts, the Olympians, Mt. Olympus is still a dream to her. None of this adventure is real, just like those "stories" that Mommy, Daddy, and Uncle Sev try to tell me. She'll be back in Inkopolis in no time, and none of this has ever happened.
The journey to the Underworld will begin tomorrow.
Pyrrhus was able to eavesdrop on this negotiation. He thought Camille was fine going on another adventure, but the conversation convinced him that Camille was rushing carelessly. She doesn't care about the journey made so far or even how she's going to end the He decided to follow Camille down to Olympus's Greek Theater where all the Champions are along with Jovana, Malina, Wish, and Telemachus.
Camille was already at the center stage, prepared to announce the news.
"Is every champion here? Good." Camille cracks her knuckles. "Pack up! We're going to the Underworld! We'll head straight towards Moros's place, beat the crap out of him, and save my parents!"
"No way..." Sandra is surprised.
"This is going to be fun." Mysteeri likes the plan.
"The trips to part of the Mediterranean was getting boring anyway." Arsenic stretched her arms.
The other Champions were having surprised reactions. Malina and Wish were somewhat concerned about this plan. Telemachus can recall the last time Camille has been to the Underworld and that was since their Titanomachy.
"We should've done this after we retook the oaths!" Camille raises Athena's spear up. "We'll come to Moros's steps asap!"
"When were we going there? Celeste asked.
Camille puts her spear down. "We're going tomorrow--"
"We are not going anywhere!" Pyrrhus intruded. He looked annoyed. "Camille, we're not ready to face him."
"We ready to face him any time!" Camille looked down at Pyrrhus. "All this time he was living somewhere in the Underworld and all I need to do was ask those gods for permission."
"We need more allies! We don't have champions of the other half of the Pantheon." Pyrrhus then stepped closer, coming face to face with Camille. "I say we search for worthy champions in the Mediterranean and Inkopolis."
"And I say, you shove that idea up your blowhole, Pyrrhus!" Camille exclaimed.
"I know you're sick of tired of this whole journey! You don't care about it just as you don't care about your parent's adventures!" Pyrrhus shows Eris's Golden Apple of Discord. "You think this is all a Greek Play to you. Was all those emotions back in Titanomachy just all an act?"
Mysteeri gets up and intervenes. "Watch your mouth, crow boy."
Pyrrhus then looked to Nebula and Sandra. "Guys, tell Camille that this is not right!"
Nebula looks down, hesitant to express her disagreement. As the Neo Squid Sister, they can disagree all they want, but as Olympian Champions or agents, so many things are at stakes. She refused to reason with Camille.
Sandra obviously wanted to reason. The Argonauts have been formed to include those that aren't Olympian Champions. Sandra was carry on that tradition. But it seems her leadership is being taken by Camille. Sandra shook her head.
Pyrrhus then looked to Sapphire, Emerald, Malina, Wish, Arsenic, Celeste, and then Telemachus. "Guys, anyone..... please..."
None of them wanted to step up. Soon Pyrrhus clenches his fists.
Camille steps towards him to put a hand on his shoulder. "Pyrrhus, we're going to put an end to this."
Pyrrhus turns and pushes Camille away. Mysteeri was ready to beat the squid senseless, but Camille gestures not to.
"No... You are going to put an end to this....." Pyrrhus glared at everyone. "If you can't see Camille's hubris, consider my sail with you all over."
Pyrrhus has his back turned on Camille. He leaves the theatre quietly, heading to some other part of Olympus. Telemachus get up.
"Camille......." Telemachus got a look from Camille. He didn't hesitate. "We need him."
Camille shook her head. "Anyone else wants to leave, you can go. Either help me or get out of the way."
No one left.
"Good, We're preparing for tomorrow," Camille declared.
At night, Camille was with Mysteeri and Jovana at the edge of Olympus. Camille was leaning back against a tree, relaxing. Mysteeri was pacing back and forth, holding Hades' helmet of invisibility and her guns, Polemos and Thanatos, close. She also still has that bottle full of water from the Underworld, and it still teems with souls.
Jovana stood where she can see Camille. "Camille, don't you think this decision will cost you? The Champion of Eris and Eris herself is a double-edged sword when you think about it."
"He chose to not go, and I have no time for those kinds of guy." Camille has her eyes closed. "And to think we were lovers when he was Chaodis-- Blegh!" She's disgusted.
"Looked like ass-hole to me." Mysteeri leans on the other side of the tree. "We don't need him."
"You'll follow me anyway, right, Jovana?" Camille opens her eyes to look at Jovana.
"I'm both your guardian and another close friend... I swore my oath to your and to the Pantheon." Jovana adjusted her mask. "...Malina and Wish are coming."
The two inktoling clones approached Camille, and it was mostly Malina who looked concerned.
"What is it, Malina?" Camille asked.
"Wish and I talked with Telemachus about Pyrrhus, and we decided..." Malina muttered at the end of the sentence.
"You decided what?" Camille raised an eyebrow.
"We decided we have to agree with him," Wish finished, "We're not champions like you guys, but we have a bad feeling about what you're doing."
"...You're joking." Camille stops leaning.
"We'll you only said the Champions will be coming to the Underworld," Malina pointed out, "What about me and Wish?"
"And we learned from Apollo about Mysteeri and Sandra, and we think that prophecy is coming true," Wish warned.
"Okay, you shouldn't listen to that!" Mysteeri called out. "That girl and I will be fine!"
Camille nods. "I can take care of them. I'm willing to take the risk."
"Camille, listen to yourself!" Malina reasoned.
"Look, if you clones want to be useful, go back to Inkopolis!" Camille glared. "At least look after my baby brother, Paccy."
Malina and Wish gasped. Jovana covered her mouth.
".....If that's how it is... fine." Malina walks away. "Come, Wish, Telemachus and Chaodis are waiting for us."
The next day, Telemachus, Malina, and Wish were gone. Pyrrhus us nowhere to be found, and he has taken Eris's Golden Apple of Discord with him.
Hephaestus and Hades were at the great elevator that connects Olympus to Hephaestus's Forge. It turns out this elevator can also take Camille and the Olympian Champions to the Underworld.
Ever since Wish left, Nebula has somewhat distanced herself from Camille. Ever since Malina left, Jovana didn't say a word to Camille, only replying when Camille gave orders and only during small conversations.
Mysteeri, Nebula, Sandra, Emerald, Sapphire, Justinian, Arsenic, and Celeste were all packed up, carrying the heirlooms of their respective Greek deity in the Pantheon.
"Everyone ready?" Hephaestus has a hand on a lever.
"Just pull the lever!" Camille ordered.
"Next stop, my home." Hades gave a slight grin. "Oh, I've wanted to look at my riches again."
The lever was a bundle containing a thunderbolt, a carved bone, and a trident. When Hephaestus pulled it back, the carved bone glowed with violet markings. The elevator platform descended down with such speed.
In seconds, Hephaestus pushes the lever forward to slow the elevator down. Once it stopped, there was darkness. Hades places a hand towards one direction and illuminated a hall of floating lanterns full of green flames.
"A shortcut to Charon's boat," Hades instructed, "Come with me."
As everyone goes, Hephaestus remained at the elevator platform, taking back up to Olympus.
Mysteeri walks beside him. "So what do you know about Moros?"
"Enough to know that my brother, Zeus, can defy him." Hades was looking forward as he walks. "My champion, I think we can stop him somehow."
"Really?" Mysteeri holds out Hades's helmet of invisibility. "Then explain how this helmet is a weapon."
While Hades and Mysteeri were having an interesting conversation. Sandra walked beside Camille.
"I made sure to bring Zeus's thunderbolt just do that you can deliver the final blow for Moros," Sandra informed, "Also, I researched about Moros, and how powerful he is."
"Yeah, yeah, yeah, omnipotent, omnipresent, and omniscient -- We're already here." Camille walked ahead. "And he hasn't done anything yet. His Children of Nyx aren't even targeting us anymore. We have the upper hand once we reach the doors steps."
"He would be in his own little realm, near the entering the depths of Tartarus." Hades heard Camille. "I forgot to mention that."
The hall of lanterns soon end, and Hades guides Camille and her friends to a massive cavern. There was a vast waterway into a dark tunnel, a port made of cedar and ebony, and large ferry boat with oars.
"Charon!" Hades called. "I know you're there!"
From the ship, an elderly man in dark teal robes appears from the rails. He had a staff with him and a lantern.
"Ahhh... Hades! Welcome back!" Charon then looked at Camille and the others. "And Champions of the Pantheon.... most of them."
"It's urgent, bring us to the Underworld!" Hades demanded, taking out a bag of coins. "Payment for the ride."
Charon couldn't help but take the payment. He walks off to open a doorway and order some undead servants to bring out the ramps. He walks out of the ferryboat with welcoming arms.
"Anything for you, my King," Charon welcomed.
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The Strong Warriors of Kikones
I remember it like it was yesterday... me about to leave my home, leaving behind my wife and my new born just to fight in this stupid war. I remember kissing my beautiful wife and son Telemachus Goodbye. I did not want to leave them for a second but I had no choice. As the general I had command in the Trojan War. It’s been ten years and still nothing. I just want to go back home to see my son all grown. I’ve already missed so much of his life, what more can I miss. Sadly it’s too late to see all of the early stages of his life but I must come up with an idea in order to return to my family. YES! Why didn’t I think about this before. I have a plan ...
I really hope this work. I can see in the men’s eyes they no longer believe in me as the use too, they just wanted the war to be over and go back home, so did I but we cannot give up we worked way too hard to give up now. All of the men got in the horse just like I commanded them to. Its time! We have a a gift for you let’s end this war ten years of fighting for what for more men to fight and died.This is an apology gift I hope you accept it. We finally have you Greeks decide to make the right choice. I knew that it would of work. Well to be honest I didn’t but hey, a part of me believed that the Trojans weren’t as smart as they think. My plan was to get a giant wooden horse, supposedly a gift for the city of Troy and the Trojan men. But what they didn’t know was that my Greek men will be in the wooden war ready to attack them the minute they’re asleep...
We won the war thank you Athena without you I wouldn’t be able to do it. My men and I were ready to go back home now that we have won the war, but it wasn’t as easy as we thought. My men and I ended up on the island of Kikones. It was the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen by I knew my men and I had to find a way back home. My men raided the island and pillaged its luxuries. I was urging my men to take what they need so we can leave this island as soon as possible but my men did not listen. Their greed made them forget about our journey home, their greed kept us on the island. When we all were having fun the Kikones army attack us. We were fighting them with bravery but we knew that there’s no way we were going to win. We all were drunk but we knew we had to gave it our best. We finally escaped but six benches of men ship were lost. I wanted to give up on my journey but I knew I had to be strong for wife and my baby boy.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PZ0xJrITO34
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