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lisalamona · 26 days ago

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𝐀𝐌𝐁𝐈𝐕𝐀𝐋𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄 - VI

Chapter VI: Polyphemus

. Summary: Despite your brother's insistence, you stubbornly decided to join him and his men in the war. Now, are you prepared to face the consequences of your actions? . Pairing: Various x Fem! Reader (platonic) . Warnings: graphic depictions of violence, death, trauma, and other sensitive content. . Notes: I'm starting to upload this story here on tumblr, I am really sorry for clogging the tags.

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"Are you certain this creature knows where to go?" Eurylochus's voice broke through the early morning calm, laced with skepticism. Ever since you, Odysseus, and Polites returned from the lotus eaters' island with your peculiar new companion, he hadn't stopped questioning its usefulness; or throwing it distrustful glances.

"Of course it does! Look at that adorable face! how could something so adorable possibly lie?" Polites grinned, holding up the tiny bundle of fur for Eurylochus to inspect. He leaned in just enough to make eye contact with the wide-eyed creature before recoiling as though it might bite.

"I'm not saying it's lying," Eurylochus countered, taking a cautious step back. "I'm saying— how do we know it even knows where this cave is? How do we know the cave itself isn't just a myth?" His voice wavered between frustration and incredulity, clearly struggling to wrap his head around the situation.

"East!" the small creature chirped suddenly, its high pitched voice breaking the tension. With an enthusiastic wave of its paw, it pointed in a direction that everyone—even the ship's youngest sailor—knew wasn't east.

Eurylochus's exasperation peaked as he glanced between the cheerful creature and the opposite horizon, where the first rays of sunlight crept into the sky. "For the last time, that is east!" he barked, gesturing toward the rising sun. Yet, no matter how many times he tried to correct it, the creature seemed blissfully unaware—or entirely unbothered by—the concept of direction.

You couldn't help but stifle a laugh at the absurdity of it all. "We'll just have to trust him," you said, finally chiming in. Eurylochus turned to you, incredulous.

"Him?" he repeated, one brow arched high enough to rival the ship's sails. "You don't even know what it is, and now you're treating it like a full fledged member of the crew?"

"Well..." You hesitated, scratching the back of your neck. "I'm assuming he's a 'he.' He doesn't say much more than the same six words, and he doesn't seem to mind what we call him." You shrugged, flashing a playful grin. "Besides, who's to say he won't surprise us?"

Eurylochus muttered something under his breath—likely another grumble about the ever growing absurdity of your situation. While Polites attempted to soothe him, his voice low and conciliatory in an attempt to de escalate his growing frustration, your gaze drifted across the ship. Most of the crew remained sound asleep, their forms sprawled across hammocks or nestled against the ship's sturdy timbers. Only the night watch sailors, bleary eyed and steadfast, tended to their duties, joined by a few early risers stretching and stifling yawns.

The quiet was a welcome reprieve, a rare moment of stillness amidst the usual cacophony of voices, footsteps, and the creak of ropes once the ship came fully to life. The muted hum of the waves lapping against the hull and the gentle sway of the sea offered a soothing rhythm, a stark contrast to the chaos that inevitably followed when every crewmember was awake and moving.

Your eyes eventually settled on your brother. He was leaning on his elbows, his weight resting against the ship's railing, lost in thought. That, in itself, wasn't unusual—he often slipped into moments of quiet contemplation—but it wasn't like him to linger there silently for hours. Your brother was the type of person, much like Polites, who could stand beside you and talk your ears off about any topic under the sun.

In all your years of knowing him—which was, of course, your entire life—you could count on one hand the times you'd seen him like this: withdrawn, pensive, and unreachable. Those moments had never been his best, and while they were rare, they left an impression. You suspected there had been more such moments than you were privy to, ones he had carefully kept hidden. But now, watching him, a quiet unease settled over you. Something about this felt wrong.

Determined to bridge the gap, you decided to approach him. If he had always been there for you, it was only right that you'd be there for him too—whether or not he wanted to admit he needed someone to talk to.

"Brother," you called softly. Odysseus jumped slightly, startled, the sound of your voice breaking through the fog of his thoughts. He gave you a playful shove on the shoulder, a lighthearted reprimand for catching him off guard. A nod of his head invited you to continue. "Are you alright?"

He raised an eyebrow at your question, the corner of his mouth twitching in amusement. "Of course I am," he replied with a small chuckle, as though the answer was so self evident it hardly needed saying. But when your expression remained steady, unyielding in its concern, his smile faltered, just a touch. "Really. There's nothing you need to worry about, sister," he added, placing a hand on your shoulder—the same one he'd shoved moments earlier—in a gesture meant to reassure. But you weren't so easily convinced.

"You're never this quiet," you said, moving to lean against the railing beside him. Your gaze fixed on his, determined not to let the subject drop.

Odysseus sighed, realizing you wouldn't back down. He tried one last diversion. "I'm just thinking about home... Penelope... Telemachus." At the mention of his wife and son, his eyes softened, and his voice took on a wistful tenderness.

You reached out, rubbing his arm gently. You understood. You missed home, too. You missed the warmth of the morning sun on your face, the carefree squeals of your nephew when you "kidnapped" him from his father's arms, and the way Odysseus would chase after you, his voice full of mock alarm. He always feared you'd drop Telemachus—even though it had only happened once, and he'd never let you forget it. Penelope would stand to the side, laughing at the sight, her smile as radiant as the day. You even missed the simple rustling of leaves in the trees when the wind danced through them.

Despite your shared longing, you couldn't shake the feeling that something else weighed on him. "That isn't the only reason, is it?" you asked gently.

He stayed silent, his gaze slipping away from yours. The pause was telling, and you knew he'd finally given up trying to distract you.

"Was it something Athena said? On the island?"

"...Yes." His gaze dropped to the ocean, its rhythmic rise and fall mirroring the unease he tried to suppress. He was embarrassed, not because of the warning itself but because he didn't want you to think he was taking something so "insignificant" too seriously. Yet he knew that if he didn't tell you, you'd find out anyway. It was a childish fear, really—he trusted you to respect his boundaries if he asked. But still...

"What did she tell you?" you pressed, your voice gentle but insistent.

He drew in a steadying breath, summoning the courage to speak. "She gave me a warning," he admitted at last.

"A warning?" Your eyes narrowed, suspicion sparking in your gaze. "What did you do?"

Odysseus raised his hands defensively, as though fending off an accusation. "Nothing! She just—she doesn't want me falling behind, that's all."

"Falling behind?" you echoed, tilting your head. "What does that even mean?"

"It means," he said with a weary sigh, "that I started to lose focus on what's important and need to get back on track."

"Is that why you're so pensive? You're trying to figure out how to make it up to her?"

"You could say that," he replied, his tone laced with resignation. But then, as if flipping a switch, he draped an arm around your shoulders in a comforting side hug and gave you a soft smile. "Enough about me and my dilemmas. How are you feeling?"

A small giggle escaped your lips as he gently swayed you both from side to side—a silly gesture he knew would lift your spirits, if only for a moment. "I'm better. The little guy definitely helped," you said, gesturing toward your peculiar companion.

Odysseus followed your gaze toward Polites and Eurylochus, still locked in their animated debate over the lotus eater. He squinted, his expression skeptical. "Its beady eyes disturb me."

You couldn't help but laugh at his dry remark. The two of you continued talking, your conversation weaving between lighthearted banter and thoughtful musings. Eventually, Polites and Eurylochus joined in, their debate unresolved but their spirits lively.

By the time the ship docked on a pristine beach, a massive cave loomed not far from the shore. You exchanged a knowing glance with Odysseus. It seemed the little creature was right after all. You made a mental note to rub it in Eurylochus's face later.

──────👁️──────

Odysseus decided that only a handful of his men—including you, Eurylochus, and Polites—would accompany him into the cave to gather as much food as possible. The rest of the crew would remain by the ships, just in case.

With the small lotus eater perched on your shoulder and your brother by your side, you began the trek toward the cave's dark, yawning mouth.

As you drew closer, the low, muffled bleating of sheep reached your ears, growing louder with every step. Their white, fluffy coats stood out even in the dim light filtering through the cave's entrance.

Once you were close enough, your brother nocked an arrow, the motion smooth and practiced, and loosed it toward one of the sheep. The creature fell with a soft thud. "Over here!" he called, waving to the rest of the group, who weren't far behind.

When you finally entered the cave, its sheer size was overwhelming. The cavernous space seemed endless, its ceiling so high that three ships stacked atop one another wouldn't come close to reaching it. The air inside was cool and damp, the chill brushing against your skin.

The little lotus eater on your shoulder nuzzled closer, seeking comfort in your neck, your hair, and the folds of your clothing. You couldn't tell if it was the cold or fear that made it cling to you so tightly.

The smell of damp earth and mildew was strong, reinforced by the soft, rhythmic sound of water droplets falling from the ceiling and splashing into shallow puddles. You tried to step carefully, avoiding the slick patches as best you could.

With the help of a few torches lit by the men, the cave's contents came into view. Piles of sheep milled about, their coats almost glowing in the flickering light. Surrounding them were heaps of fruits and vegetables stacked neatly, as though someone—or something—had carefully collected them.

You couldn't help but wonder why the lotus eaters hadn't taken advantage of such an abundant supply of food. Perhaps they were afraid of the dark? The thought lingered in your mind as you took in the strange and bountiful scene before you.

"Look at all this food! And all these sheep!" Polites exclaimed, his eyes wide with disbelief. "I can't believe this cave is just sitting here, waiting for us."

Eurylocus nodded, a grin spreading across his face. "I've got to hand it to you three—this is quite the haul. There's enough here to feed the entire fleet for weeks."

You opened your mouth to respond, ready to suggest that perhaps someone owed an apology to the small creature on your shoulder. But before you could get the words out, your brother spoke up.

"It's almost too perfect," Odysseus said, his tone thoughtful as his gaze swept across the cavern. "Why would the lotus eaters ignore all of this? It doesn't make sense."

The question lingered in all your minds—why would the lotus eaters abandon such a treasure trove? Perhaps it was your instincts trying to rationalize the unease gnawing at the back of your thoughts, searching for an excuse to believe this wasn't a trap.

"Who are you?"

The silence was shattered by a voice that seemed to come from the very stone itself. It was loud, deep, and inhuman, reverberating through the walls of the cavern like the growl of an ancient beast. The sound sent a chill down your spine, each echo amplifying the sheer terror it carried.

You couldn't pinpoint its source—its resonance made it seem as if it came from everywhere at once—but logic pointed to the one place the torchlight couldn't reach: the heart of the cave, cloaked in impenetrable darkness.

The fear of the unknown churned within you, gripping your chest with icy fingers. Whatever lay in the shadows, it was waiting—and now it knew you were there.

For a few agonizing seconds that felt like an eternity, no one moved. No one even dared to breathe. All eyes turned to your captain, silently pleading for guidance, for a decision, for anything to break the oppressive weight of the moment.

Odysseus, ever quick to act under pressure, stepped forward with an idea. Was it the wisest plan? Perhaps not. But in that moment, it felt like the only option.

"Hello there," he called out, his voice steady despite the tension in the air. "We're just travelers."

He paused, waiting for a response, but none came. The silence hung heavy, the echoes of his words swallowed by the cavern's endless depths.

"...We come in peace," he added, his tone firm yet placating, as if trying to soothe whatever unseen force had addressed you.

"You killed my sheep."

The looming voice responded, ignoring Odysseus's words entirely—perhaps not even registering them. This time, the voice was louder, its menacing tone reverberating through the cavern like a physical force. Worse yet, it was closer.

From the shadows emerged a creature unlike anything you had ever seen. It towered over you, several feet tall—though not quite high enough to touch the cavern's ceiling, it was massive enough to crush you effortlessly under its foot.

As it drew nearer, it moved on all fours, though you were certain it could stand upright if it wished. It seemed to slink closer deliberately, a calculated effort to intimidate, or perhaps to take you all in more easily.

And then there was its eye. A single, blood-red orb fixed directly on you, unblinking, unwavering. It bore into you with such intensity that it left you rooted in place, unable to think or react. Fear coursed through your veins like ice, rendering you powerless to process what was happening.

You had entered the home of a cyclops.

Now, at last, you understood why the lotus eaters wouldn't dare set foot in this cave.

"My favorite sheep," it growled, its voice dripping with fury.

"What gives you the right to cause such harm?" the cyclops thundered, its voice echoing off the cavern walls like the rumble of a distant storm. "Don't you know that the pain you sow is the pain you rеap?"

The massive creature crept closer, its hulking form casting shadows that danced wildly in the flickering torchlight. Its mouth, a grotesque vertical slit reminiscent of a gaping Venus flytrap, opened and closed with a sickening precision as it spoke. Each word dripped with malice, its jagged teeth gleaming in the dim light.

It snarled, its single, blood-red eye glaring at you with a hatred so fierce it made your stomach churn. "You came into my home, took what was mine, and thought you'd leave unscathed?"

The cyclops advanced again, its sheer size making the ground tremble with every step. "Your blood will stain this ground. Your lives are now mine to do with as I please."

Its gaze swept over the group, finally settling back on you. "Before I'm done, you will learn that it's not so fun to take"

As it loomed ever closer, the air seemed to grow colder, heavier, as if the very cave was conspiring to seal your fate. The creature's foul breath wafted toward you, a rancid mix of decay and rot, making your stomach churn even more violently. Every instinct screamed at you to run, but fear held you rooted in place. "A trade, you see? I'll take from you like you took from me"

Odysseus, fully grasping the gravity of the situation, racked his mind for a solution, searching desperately for the right words to defuse the growing danger. Finally, he stepped forward, placing himself squarely in the cyclops's line of sight, determined to draw its attention away from the rest of you.

"There's been a misunderstanding," he began, his voice calm but firm. "We didn't come here to steal. We were simply looking for something to eat and didn't realize these sheep and fruits belonged to anyone."

The cyclops's single, blood-red eye shifted, locking onto your brother with an unsettling intensity. It seemed to focus entirely on him now, though the tension in the air thickened as the creature processed his words.

It didn't look pleased—especially at Odysseus's casual reference to its sheep as mere food. But then again, it was hard to discern any emotion from its massive, inhuman face.

"But now I see we've caused some damage," Odysseus said, his tone steady, though his eyes darted subtly as he formulated his plan. "I'd like to propose a deal."

Slowly, he reached behind his back, keeping his movements deliberate and out of the cyclops's direct sight. From your vantage point, you caught a glimpse of him slipping a small, familiar handful of seeds into his canteen that he had saved from when you visited the previous island.

He raised the canteen for the cyclops to see, tilting it just enough to swirl the contents, allowing the seeds to mix thoroughly with the liquid inside. The cyclops leaned its massive head to the side, its single eye narrowing as it inspected the unfamiliar object.

"If you let us leave unharmed," Odysseus continued, his voice calm and persuasive, "you can have the world's best tasting wine."

"Wine?" The cyclops's pupil dilated, and its voice softened, a hint of excitement creeping into its tone. You guessed it was something the creature had never tried before—or perhaps had only tasted on rare occasions.

"The best there is!" Odysseus declared, his voice steady and persuasive. "Just one sip, and you'll understand. A wine so fresh, so rich in flavor, it'll make you never crave human flesh again."

The cyclops leaned forward, resting one massive hand on the ground. At first, Odysseus assumed it was waiting for the canteen, but as the creature extended its hand palm-up, it became clear it wanted him to step onto it.

Odysseus hesitated, his legs wavering slightly as he complied. You instinctively moved forward, ready to pull him back, but Eurylochus stopped you with a firm grip. "Trust him," he murmured, his voice low but certain.

As the cyclops lifted Odysseus into the air, standing fully upright, the scene became even more surreal. The creature's massive, blood-red eye stared directly into your brother's, its breath hot and heavy. Despite the obvious danger, Odysseus's voice remained as steady as he could manage.

"Then we shall be on our way—no blood spilled, no harm done. A simple trade: a gift from you, and a gift from me."

The cyclops opened its gaping mouth expectantly. The entire crew held their breath, the air in the cave thick with tension. Odysseus, understanding the unspoken request, carefully opened the canteen with a soft pop and poured its contents into the cyclops's mouth.

The cavern filled with the sound of the creature gulping down the wine, the noise echoing eerily off the walls. The cyclops sighed in delight, its massive frame visibly relaxing as it gently placed Odysseus back on the ground—gently, for something so enormous.

"I'd like to thank you, stranger," it rumbled. "What's your name?"

Odysseus, believing he had defused the situation, gave a small bow. "My name is Nobody."

"Nobody," the cyclops repeated, its voice slow and deliberate, resonating with a deep, unsettling undertone. "For your gift, I have one to reply."

Odysseus smiled faintly. "I'm glad we see eye to eye."

"Yes," the cyclops growled, its tone darkening in an instant, "because you shall be the final one to die."

The blood drained from Odysseus's face, the weight of the cyclops's words hitting him like a punch to the gut.

"What?" he whispered, his tone trembling, his earlier confidence shattered.

The cyclops raised itself higher, towering to its full height, its massive arms lifting above its head as it prepared to slam them down with devastating force.

"WATCH OUT!" Odysseus shouted, panic and realization sinking deep into his chest. He gestured wildly for everyone to scatter, his voice echoing through the cavern as the beast brought its hands crashing down.

#epic the musical x reader #epic x reader #platonic x reader #greek mythology x reader

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