#ps: Menelaus provoked Odysseus for Diomedes' attitude afterwards

[alexnamuu]

A conversation between Diomedes and Odysseus that I imagine they had at the beginning of the Trojan War, when they were getting to know each other:

— Well, well, if it isn't the youngest King who ruled Argos that this council of war has ever heard of! The disciple with the silver eyes blessed by Athena, the war cry that terrifies the enemies! — The man's melodious voice pulled Diomedes back to reality. The young king had to hold back an irritated sigh that he would let escape his lips showing his discomfort at having someone close to him.

It wasn't a good day, in fact, since he stepped onto the Trojan lands and instructed his men to start setting up camp, he had never had a good day. Diomedes was used to the patterns of war, the dried blood under his nails, the bruises his enemies were lucky enough to inflict, the calluses forming on his already rough hand, he should stop by the medical tent and see if he could get some blister cream or something, he would do that later.

— It is good to see you again, King of Ithaca— He made no effort to look at the man who sat beside him, his gaze continued to focus on the fire. He expected peace and quiet, but it seemed like Lady Athena wouldn't give it to him anytime soon.

—You were splendid on the battlefield today, a true veteran, far more experienced than any of us— He had been warned about the ruler of Ithaca having a sweet tongue to persuade any man to get what he wanted. This made Diomedes shiver just for being a target of this "get what he wants by any means necessary" guy.

—That's right, thank you— He didn't know how to respond to flattery, maybe that's why he fell for so few. The King (His name was Odysseus, from what he remembered) didn't seem to be bothered by this fact.

— Yes, a real standout, I would say, with my audacity, that you would only lose to Achilles! Or you could even surpass him.

— Be careful with your words, Laertiades — Achilles' sharp voice cut through the silence, it seemed that the Best of the Greeks would rather be somewhere else, but Patroclus, his friend and healer (maybe something more) seemed very happy to enjoy the campfire and chat with Ajax the Great, who was Achilles' cousin, and at the beginning of the war, Peliades didn't seem to want to be away from his closest friend— Or you will be without your precious tongue.

— Don't be so skittish, Peliades, it was just a foolish comparison, forgive me — He made sure to emphasize — But you were still magnificent, young Diomedes.

— Do you need something from me, Leartiades? — Diomedes didn't like mind games where he had to put his wits to work and try to decipher dirty tricks, not after a long day. He would prefer the silence and not having to talk for the rest of the night. So anything that would make Odysseus move away, he would be happy.

— Straightforward, isn't it? — Odysseus didn't seem to mind, staring at the helmet still in Diomedes' lap. — I need a favor from you, something small, nothing extravagant.

— I don't do favors — The young King said — Much less for strangers.

— Come on, we are war companions now and the same Goddess guides us, I think we are not so strange after all — The warm touch of Odysseus's palm came into contact with the skin of Diomedes's arm, a friendly, innocent touch, nothing more than a form of bargaining. But for Diomedes that was like a burning coal, the field reflexes came into action and he slapped the other's hand away from his arm. The most serious expression now on his indifferent face.

— Don't touch me, Laertiades — The young king's voice was low, threatening — And I already said, I don't do favors for strangers, much less those who have very big tongues and words that flatter too much.

Diomedes stood up with his helmet in his hands, putting on the piece that completed his armor, his eyes staring at Odysseus with cold indifference — Do not look for me to demand favors, King of Ithaca, from what I hear, you seem eager to get back to your wife and son.

Diomedes heard a provocative whistle, perhaps it had come from the mouth of the sweet Patroclus who was known for his good heart, but had his attractions for a good fight. He decided to ignore it.

— Gentlemen — He said in farewell, starting to walk towards his own camp. With luck, that would have been the only and last interaction with Odysseus and he would only need to see the man in meetings and on the battlefield.

The distant hoot of an owl was his doubt and likely his condemnation of what would come from then on. Odysseus' sweet tongue would still convince him of many things.