#theoklymenos

[katerinaaqu]

The Death of Odysseus: The funeral

This is an old request done by @that-greek-mythology-girl when she asked me in an ask for an extra chapter for my 3 part fic about Odysseus dying and traveling to the underworld. So this is that extra chapter showing that specific story. Sorry I was so late! Set after, Part 1 , Part 2 and Part 3 (Although one can say they happen simoultaneously too! Your choice!)

The night was not particularly hot that day and yet Telemachus was sweating. It was a long night and celebrations were indeed lasting way longer than expected. It wasn’t that it wasn’t a good thing; it was just that the King of Ithaca felt rather uncomfortable staying in large crowds for too long. Surely he would pinpoint his natural shyness or natural introverted nature or even his experience for over five nightmarish years when he was constantly harassed and taunted by over a hundred men, some of them barely a few years older than himself, who wished to force his mother to new matrimony. Whatever the reason was, Telemachus preferred just to sit on his throne and enjoy his wine while observing rather than engaging too much into conversations. He even felt rather dizzy and he needed his moment of peace before he finally decided to retire to bed after a short walk in the gardens to clear his head. There was an intriguing sensation that wouldn’t leave him in peace. His wife; a real beauty with hair in the color of walnut and large brown eyes, was walking by his side, holding his arm as well, making sure he was alright.

“Now, now…” Nausicaa chuckled, “You do speak about your father but you too lost control tonight!”

Telemachus smiled shyly.

“I know, Nausicaa…I am sorry for that. I guess I got carried away!”

Entering their temporary chambers made him sigh in relief in his little sanctuary. He removed the circlet of gold from his head with a sigh of contentment, placing it aside.

“Perseptolis is…”

“He is fine, Telemachus” Nausicaa said, assisting her husband out of his mantle and some of his jewelry, “He went to bed hours ago”

“Ah…good…” Telemachus mumbled absentmindedly

“It is good that Theoklymenos is taking good care of him as his tutor. He knows a lot”

“He was godsend, that’s for sure!” her husband replied, “If it weren’t of him I would be dead now… He just needed a second chance in life and he hasn’t disappointed ever since…even if he is old now…”

“That’s you, my darling…” Nausicaa smiled removing her own rich garments and jewelry, letting her long hair cascade down her back over her light, cotton dress, “You always see the best in people… You are always kind…a bit naïve at times but…”

“Hmm…”

Nausicaa looked over from the cloth she used to remove her makeup. It was obvious her husband hadn’t heard a word. His eyes were stuck to nothingness in deep thought. For a moment he reminded her of him…his father. His eyes would also glue themselves to nothingness, appearing like out of the world. It was just his eyes were black as coal while Telemachus had the gentle blue eyes of his mother.

“Seriously, Telemachus, what’s wrong?” now his wife seemed worried, “You seemed weird all night ever since your father retired to bed. Care to share with me what’s going on?”

Telemachus eyed her and his blue eyes shone apprehensively. His wife was a very clever and bright young woman. He couldn’t believe his ears and eyes when his father came back from his redemption trip and had this treasure with him on the ship and announced him that he had found him a bride. For Telemachus it was almost love at first sight. He never expected that to happen to him but it had. Nausicaa was incredible wife and even better queen, bringing knowledge and treasures from her own homeland. A few years later she brought to this world their son, Perseptolis and only then Telemachus could really comprehend what his father must have felt for him and his mother. Nausicaa and Perseptolis were his entire world; two stars in a nightly sky. Telemachus could entrust literally anything to his wife and his wife was always there for him. Despite the sudden news, Telemachus was now grateful to his father for casually bringing a wife to him. In one way Telemachus who was raised protected almost like a child till the day he was 20 suddenly felt like growing as a person. How strange, he thought thinking back, I didn’t consider myself as much of a man when I killed those dreadful men but when I got married; when I have gotten someone to love and protect…someone I felt completed me! He wasn’t so sure he would be as good king as he was now if he hadn’t Nausicaa by his side! There were moments, though, where he felt there was a shadow between them even after all these years. Telemachus couldn’t or didn’t want to put his finger on it. Much less now. He sighed and ran his hand through his long, thick, curly hair.

“Nothing in particular…it is just…” he tried to put his thoughts in order, “When we spoke…father was… He seemed very strange to me…sad and yet happy at the same time…hard to explain but…”

He nervously played with the end of his beard.

“It almost felt like he was trying to… If you heard what he told me he…” he softly bit the corner of his fingernail; a habit he had developed ever since he was a child

Nausicaa sighed and playfully slapped his hand down.

“He is a grown man, Telemachus” she said, slowly opening her husband’s shirt to help him remove his clothes for bed, “I am sure he knows how to take care of himself!”

“I know!” Telemachus retaliated, “Is not that is just… I just don’t like this feeling that’s all.”

“Is this the reason why you were a bit gloom drinking tonight?”

Telemachus thought for a second and then nodded.

“Perhaps…I am not sure”

“I am sure is just you over thinking again, my dear…” Nausicaa said airily, “That’s what you do. You always worry too much and over think”

“Do I?”

“You do. It is who you are. You always think too much, you care too much. It is part of your charm.”

Telemachus sighed a bit as his wife helped him out of his shirt and sandals. She often did that; attending to him herself, the same much as he attended to his father. It felt more familiar; more intimate that way.

“You always take care of me, Nausicaa…” he whispered

Nausicaa’s answer was a soft chuckle and a kiss to his cheek.

“I am your wife” she said emphatically, “I’m supposed to…”

Telemachus had no answer to that. He smiled softly and finished the rest of his toilette before bed. He made a praying gesture with his hand for protection.

“Where are you going?” Nausicaa asked seeing him walking to the door

“To father” Telemachus admitted, “Wanted to check on him”

“Leave him be, my dear” Nausicaa held on him, “He’s asleep. Don’t disturb him now”

“But…”

“Please, Telemachus, come to bed. You need to rest now otherwise you won’t have a fresh mind tomorrow”

Telemachus sighed. Truth to be told, he was kind of tipsy and he needed to have a clear head the next day; not to mention how his father said he would sleep. And yet that feeling tickling his gut wouldn’t leave him in peace. He absentmindedly caressed her arm in deep thought. Nausicaa kissed his hand tenderly.

“Enough with the gloom thoughts. It is too late, I am tired and I cannot rest properly without you by my side, you know it! Come to bed with me”

Telemachus smirked.

“Are you seriously trying to seduce me to obtain healthy sleeping habits?”

“Is it working?”

Direct. Clear. Honest. That was probably the thing he drew him to her the most. He smirked again, reminding for a little while he was his father’s son.

“Yes”

*

He had no idea what made him wake up but when he did the sun was softly caressing his face directly. He felt the familiar yet pleasant weight of his wife’s head on his chest but that was not the weight he was concerned on with right now. The same feeling of uneasiness he had felt the night prior was still there. It wasn’t the light dizziness he had from drinking the night before that was causing it. It was something profound that wouldn’t leave him in peace. He tried to move without waking her but he should have known by now. She was a light sleeper.

“Hmm…Telemachus…?” she whispered, “What’s wrong? It’s too early”

“Go back to sleep, my love…” Telemachus smiled, putting a robe over his body, “It’s early. I just…I need to check on him before I move to the hall…”

“Hmm…Okay…” Nausicaa stretched herself, “I will follow you later. Shall I order for your bath to be prepared?”

“Oh, yes, please” the King of Ithaca smiled, “I will need it to clear my head a bit”

Fixing a bit his messy hair and beard with his fingers, Telemachus marched across the hall. He didn’t spot Odysseus. Usually his father would wake before the crack of dawn (habit he picked from his years at war along with his old age) and he would rouse the servants to start the day. Then he had the habit of going to Perseptolis and wake him up for his lessons before walking out to the gardens. This alone had him worried. Had his father more to drink than they thought that he needed to stay in bed longer? He moved to the olive tree chamber.

“Father” he called from the door, “Are you awake yet?”

He got no response. That was strange. His father was not a heavy sleeper and he certainly wasn’t THAT drunk the night before so that he would be in a deep sleep. He walked in without thinking much.

“Father, come on, the day has begun time to…”

His voice froze. Odysseus was indeed in bed, covered with his favorite blanket. One of his arms was outside of it, as if he had reached for something before. He was unmoving, circled by fallen leaves and olive flowers. His face looked pale and his lips were smiling. He looked like sleeping indeed; a peaceful sleep and yet he was unmoving. Cold. Frozen.

“F-Father…?”

Telemachus cared to touch the wrinkled cheek of his father. It was cold to the touch.

“No…” he whispered tears burning his eyes

He felt his chest twitch by sobs. Suddenly he was a child again, crying tears plenty and salty like the sea. He sat on the edge of the olive bed, slowly lifting that old body in his arms, placing his lips upon his forehead and the top of his head. He let more tears flow upon that cold, lifeless body. More burning sensation down his throat as his fears had been confirmed.

“Liar…!” he whispered between his sobbing, “L-Liar…! The last thing you said to me…was a lie…! F-Father…! Gods…”

Why was he crying so much? His father was old. He had reached his 80th year of life. None of the kings he knew ever lived that long. Not even his grandfather Icarius who was alive when he was 20. And yet Telemachus knew…he had lost the last family he had. Right now he truly was alone.

“Gods…!” he whispered sobbing, “H-Hermes…Argophontes…p-please take care of his soul…P-Persephone…accept my father down to your embrace…!”

His father was dead. He would never hear his voice again; his laughter, his advice, his stories from war and his trips… He was orphaned now. He thought he was 20 years prior and yet now that he lived with his father for so long and bonded with him his loss was much more painful than he would ever think of, even if he was prepared theoretically for his passing. Nausicaa barged into the room with some of her handmaidens.

“Telemachus what takes you… Oh…”

She saw her husband, holding his father and crying as if he were a baby that had lost his favorite puppy; not able to part with it upon the face of death. She didn’t need her intelligence to know. Odysseus, the son of Laërtes had finally met his inevitable death.

“Cry for your king…” Telemachus whispered, acknowledging their presence in the room, “Come, women! Mourn! Mourn and cry, paint your faces with tears and ash. The King of Cephallinians is dead!”

The slaves released a wail of sorrow and released their hairs from their headpieces, pulling them with both their hands, tearing their clothes and cheeks and beating their chests and knees with their hands. The sorrow was presented so typically and yet Telemachus wanted to believe they weren’t pretending. Odysseus was beloved to his household. He wanted to believe they truly cried with him. He saw Nausicaa, his wife, trying to hold her composure, for him, for their position. But her eyes were tearful. She approached him, placing her soft hand on his large shoulder.

“Go…” she murmured to him, “Go…you must cleanse yourself from the miasma of death and announce it to the world…that he passed to the realm of the One of Many Names. Leave the mourning and funeral to us…it is our job”

Telemachus’s answer was a moan of pain. He didn’t want to let him go. Not yet. He was barely sobbing; barely audible and yet Nausicaa could hear him clearly over the mourning of the women who wailed and cried for their dead king.

“Go, my love…” she repeated, “You must do your duty…”

For a moment her thoughts ran to her own father; how would she feel if she were this close as Telemachus was to his own? She lifted the thoughts away. She had to stand by her husband for this. She owed him this much. Telemachus slowly and reluctantly placed his father back to his pillows. He began walking away, being patted on the back by his wife for consolation.

“Oh…h-his blanket…we must let him keep…his blanket…” he mumbled

“He will” Nausicaa assured him, “Go, please!”

She then turned to the maids still mourning.

“Go, fetch water from the sea and oils and ointments! We must prepare the king for his final destination! And bring sage and sulphous to cleanse this place from the miasma of death. Go! All of you!”

And she was left alone. Only then she let her tears flow down her cheeks as she approached the death bed and leaned over the dead king.

“So…you finally decided it was time to leave…” she whispered, “You left…again… Like you did to me the first time…touched our hearts and minds…and left…”

Her hand hovered for a second. She hesitated, possibly her natural aversion towards death; perhaps the feelings she had once hosted in her heart she had kept to herself in her youth kind of reminded her of the man she saved at her land so many years ago. Eventually she touched his white, curly locks and cold cheek, lovingly; soothing the details.

“And…” she suppressed a sob, “You were right…I truly weren’t the one for you… If you had let me love you more than what I already did then… now this moment would seem unbearable to me. You were right. Of course you were. Our difference in age was indeed that great… And you brought me a husband, someone that I loved with all my heart…who gave me love in return…who gave me my beautiful boy, whom you named…and helped us raise…”

She stopped to mop some tears from her cheeks.

“I will take care of him…” she promised, “Your precious Telemachus…and your grandson…I will do my best to make them happy… I promise you with all my heart…”

She leaned down and placed her lips upon that cold forehead, releasing her tears once more.

“Goodbye for now…my first love…” she finally whispered

*

The day seemed gray and cloudy for everyone that day. The palace was set for deep mourning as everyone was crying for the king that passed away. Women wore their black and dark gray dresses and men did the same. The palace smelt of incense and sage that was sending away the miasma of death and flowers were arranged as well as the personal belongings of the king that he would have with him in the tomb. The King and the Queen were doing their best to keep the ceremony according to the greatness the name of Odysseus bore to the island and to the rest of the kingdom. Nausicaa was worried about Telemachus. He always was a quiet and reserved person but after he received the news and discovered the body of his father he hardly spoke a word to anyone apart from the typical words to the servants that organized the funeral and to prepare everything for the funerary rites and games for the glory of his father’s passing. There was a shadow all over his features and Nausicaa didn’t like that. Not that she was afraid that Telemachus would despair; he was far too strong for that, but he was also sensitive and he was very close to his father plus it wasn’t the death itself that made him so. There seemed to be a million questions in his eyes and Nausicaa was afraid of them. They seemed to be questions he had reserved for years. These were her thoughts as she walked into their room already dressed for the funeral.

“Telemachus…everyone is ready…”

She stopped in her tracks before what she saw. Telemachus was sitting on a chair, already dressed in gray and black and had a razor in his hand…several small strands of hair to the floor. Half of his long till shoulders hair was already cut. She eyed him and he eyed her. Somehow words didn’t seem needed.

“Can you help me…?” Telemachus asked almost immediately, “I can’t do this on my own…”

She smiled sadly.

“Give me the razor…” she said

With soft yet capable fingers she slowly combed his long hair and half-braided it in one braid, trying to get a better view on the shape of them and then began to cut, one by one the rope-like curls of her husband’s.

“You’re very good at this…” Telemachus whispered

Nausicaa smiled sadly.

“I helped several of my slave girls cut their hair before….” She said as a matter of fact

“Ah…that explains it…”

His voice was low, almost nonchalant.

“Everyone is almost here” Nausicaa spoke again, “The funeral will be exactly as you want it, my love…”

She felt his wide shoulders tense; as if they suddenly were weighted down by something.

“You loved him, didn’t you?”

The question hovered in the air like a terrible accusation. His voice was hoarse from sorrow and crying but it also hid plenty of frustration; anger even…plenty of unasked “why”s and “how”s in his manner. The sudden, direct question after almost two decades of marriage left her shocked.

“What…?”

“Please!” Telemachus suddenly exploded, “No more lies! I had enough of lies!”

His voice was almost trembling. He seemed ready to cry again.

“Don’t you think I didn’t notice? How you looked at him? My father! You loved him, don’t deny it!”

“Telemachus…I…”

“Nausicaa!” suddenly Telemachus looked at her and his eyes were piercing his soul, “Did you love me because I look like my father?”

The razor remained in her hands but his words cut much deeper than any blade would have. Such a direct and painful question! Was this what he was holding in his heart all these years?

“Telemachus…” she whispered, “Why do you hurt me this much? How could you say this to me!”

“Answer me!” Telemachus urged, “Did you love me because I look like him?”

“That’s not what happened, Telemachus!”

She sighed trying to collect her thoughts. She feared this day would come but she had prayed with all her heart it never would.

“I loved your father…” she finally whispered, “From the first time I saw him that day when he showed up before me; shipwrecked, ragged and naked; hit by the sea and fate… I loved him, yes, my father wanted him to marry me. I wouldn’t have said no. But your father didn’t love me, not like that. He wanted to come here, back to his wife…to you. Then one day, years later he came back to our island. He had the proposal for me I would come here. He looked at me in the eyes and said Nausicaa I never forgot my promise to you; for you gave me life and you deserve to be paid back for the good that you did to me. I cannot be your husband but I have found you a husband more suitable…a better man than what I ever wished to be. Come with me if you shall meet him and I bring to you the wedding gifts needed for your noble father…”

She sighed once, lost in her own recollections.

“That’s how he spoke and his words were soft like snowflakes at a first snowfall at the end of autumn. His rejection hurt me. But I trusted him and he took me with him and brought me here…to meet you…”

Her fingers hesitatingly started their work again, cutting her husband’s hair short.

“It is true that you drew my attention because you looked like your father; the man that inspired love in my heart for the first time in my life as a young, inexperienced woman that I was…However, Telemachus…” she brought her hand to her mouth to stop a moan from rising, she had to be strong, “I didn’t love you for that. I loved you because you are different from your father”

He looked at her. His blue eyes almost liquid; like a trapped animal waiting its doom.

“What?”

“You are not your father, Telemachus, your father was right. You are a far better man; kinder, softer, considerate of others… Yes, you do not have his renounced name or cunning but you have your wisdom, your heart…your ability to see good in people… I was drawn to you because you looked like your father…the reason I loved you, the reason I was so happy that I bore your child and rule this kingdom by your side is because you are totally different…”

She held his face in her hands.

“You are you, Telemachus…” she said emphatically, “Never doubt this, for Odysseus never did…”

And then she saw Telemachus come undone. Tears flowed out of his eyes; tears of relief and thankfulness. It was as if the thing he held inside him all these years stopped bothering him anymore; one less pain for him to feel now. He kissed his wife’s hand and palm and Nausicaa felt his lips burning. It was his way to apologize for his fears and doubts. For one more time words were not needed between them. The past that haunted them was there no more.

“There…” Nausicaa said, “I am done…”

Telemachus looked at his now shorter curls to the bronze spectrum. He touched his head with his hand.

“Thank you, you did very good job…”

“Looks good on you…” Nausicaa noted, running her fingers through it

“I seriously hope so…” Telemachus said, “For this shall be my haircut from now on”

His wife looked at him questionably.

“This world lost the last great man of the first of Troy…” Telemachus whispered, “I finally lost my father whom I thought dead for 20 years and I lived with for other 20… I shall mourn for him for 20 more to come…till my last breath…”

Nausicaa teared up but she smiled.

“If that’s what you wish, husband, I have nothing more to say…”

Telemachus stood up and placed the golden circlet around his head.

“Let’s go…” he said, “Our guests are here…it is time for the funeral…”

*

The King of Cephallinians was set upon his deathbed, dressed in his finest clothes and armor, like the warrior he was all his life. His head was adorned by a red-plumed helmet adorned with boar tusks. His sigil ring with the dolphin was on his finger. His bronze sword by his side and the golden mask covering his face. The obolus was already placed between his teeth for the boatman to let him pass; the locks of hair of his loved ones under his hands. Odysseus shone, just like radiant people of his land perceived him during the war of Troy… The body was lying upon the shroud made by Nausicaa and the precious blanket made by Penelope. Odysseus was seen off by his wife and daughter; the daughter that had given him his precious grandchild. The procession was moving slow, with the bed being lifted by the most faithful servants he had (two of them were the sons of Philoetius and two the sons of Eumeus with the wives Odysseus himself had picked for them). The women were mourning and chanting as the priest and prophets were singing their hymns to Persephone and the rebirth of the underworld. Behind them came the royal family. Telemachus walked steadfast and proud; his tall and well-built physique and he looked even paler as his already pale skin was toned up by the black on his clothes and the thick black beard. Nausicaa was also dressed in gray and had her cheeks scratched according to custom, shedding silent tears when she could. Their son, Perseptolis following with his tutor, Theoklymenos (the man Telemachus once saved). He seemed sad and confused. His grandfather would no longer play with him or show him things or teach him or promise him the trees that were for him after he would be gone… Now he really was gone and Perseptolis didn’t know how to take it. He only knew he had to be strong for his father who seemed to suffer the most.

Telemachus looked at the side as they moved upon the high rocks. He thought he saw a little girl sitting by the rock, one leg hanging from the edge and the other drawn to her chest. Her short, blondish hair was curly like his and her physique small and frail. She only had one black dress on her that reached till her skinny knees. And yet Telemachus could have sworn the girl was looking at him. He could see her shiny her gray eyes despite the distance. Her eyes seemed almost tearful and yet they were not. Telemachus felt the power in his veins emitted from that presence. His eyes watered and then he shed a tear. It was as if he shed the tear the girl couldn’t physically shed. He bowed his head at her as if by instinct. He averted his eyes for one second and the next the girl was gone as if she was never there. They reached the tomb and the slaves opened it. Telemachus felt his heart clench. He had opened that monument before when he buried his mother. And now his father had come to join her. He watched the slaves place the funeral bed inside, according to his instructions; leave it by the side of Penelope. He felt a squeeze in his hand from his wife. He squeezed it back. The prayers and cries became louder as the rock shielded the monument anew. Telemachus closed his eyes to fight back the tears.

It was done…

His father was to his final home…

*

The funerary banquet had everything their hearts could desire. Telemachus was more than generous as the meat of the sacrifice was also well-cooked and served. He had also ordered the best pig and the fattest goats to be slaughtered and cooked. There was also fish and vegetables and a variety of legumes to feed the guests. He had also picked the best wine from the kingdom and Scheria to offer to his guests.

Odysseus was a good host. He was entertaining for one last time.

Telemachus knew the dead man was the host and they were all eating and drinking to his name. He wanted to offer him the good passing; make sure he knew they would remember him; that they would be happy in his name and continue their life. And then the funerary matches happened. There was a running and a discus throw race with rich gifts given to the three contestants to win. Then there was a wrestling match and a sword fight. Telemachus watched and never intervened. He congratulated the winners and awarded them, he also thanked those who lost and praised them for their talents and efforts. The celebrations were about to finish when Telemachus stood up. Everyone fell silent. Telemachus removed a key hanging from his neck and passed it to his wife.

“My wife…” he said, “Take this key and please go down to the armory. Fetch me my father’s old bow. Tell the servants to bring the hollow axes!”

The sound of surprise passed like aura over the waves of the sea. The request was so sudden; so unexpected. And yet no one felt like refusing.

“Are you sure?” Nausicaa asked

Telemachus stood proud; steadfast. Certain.

“I am.”

And the Queen of Ithaca smiled. She took the key and moved to the old armory and unlocked it. On the wall there was the infamous heavy bow of which she had heard so many stories of. She took it in her hands, as if she lifted the sacred clothes to dress the statue of a god and carried it out. Telemachus took it in his strong hand. He hesitated. What if he wasn’t worthy of it? What if he became ridiculed by the entire kingdom for his request to use it? He shook his head and grasped the bow with both hands. He warmed the fat to the flame and smeared the wood; making sure it would be soft so it wouldn’t be cracked and then he pulled. The wood creaked and moaned; Telemachus felt sweat peaking to his forehead and yet the bow barely moved a bit. Telemachus felt his body tensing. No! He couldn’t give up!

“Why! Why can’t I…? Oh, gods…forgive me, father…maybe I am not worthy of your legacy after all…”

“Telemachus…”

It was a voice; an ethereal and heavenly female voice that echoed deep inside him. He looked to the side. The magnificent woman wearing the radiant bronze and gold armor; with the gorgoneion adorning her chest over her green aegis; the double-plumed helmet shining gold and a spear in hand. Her skin was clear and pore-less, iridescent even; often white as ivory often gaining a light color as the sun moved on it.

“Athena!”

Pallas Athena stood there, smiling softly; invisible and unheard to everyone else but him. Her hand touched his shoulder. Telemachus nearly felt a fire in his chest.

“Don’t forget, Telemachus… Your father was a strong man but his real strength was not his arms or legs or the power of his body. Think, Telemachus…and you shall have your answer…”

And then Telemachus knew. Somehow he felt like an idiot for not thinking of it sooner! He set the bow on the ground and passed his strong leg through it and then he bended the bow using his body as a lever. The gasps he heard and the smile of the patron goddess of his father, no, his family, gave him strength anew as the bow bended slowly yet steadily. Telemachus grabbed the string and passed it through and then he knew… He had managed to solve his father’s puzzle. It never was about strength. Not entirely. The answer was there all along. He tested the string. It played the tune of a well-tuned lyre, ready to sing anew after so long.

“Bring the axes…” he ordered

“Shall we use all 12, master?” the servant asked (He was Autologos, the son of Philoetius).

“No” Telemachus said, “Bring more”

“M-More, master?” the man almost chocked, “H-How many?”

“Twenty” Telemachus answered with a confidence he never felt before. “Twenty years I lost my father…twenty years I had him. Twenty shall be the axes of my test”

Once more his words were heard. His mind ran back to his youth where the blasted suitors would ignore his pleas or orders. Now his voice was heard; his orders were followed. Right now he knew he was a changed man. He had grown over the years. He watched the axes set in equal distances and then grabbed the bow. His strong arms and back worked to pull the string. He aimed. He stood there for a few seconds. His limbs had gained strength anew; something he felt flattering in his heart. It was like a primitive fire inside him; the spirit of his father; the spirit of his goddess! He released a breath, like the breath of a soul leaving the body and then the arrow was released.

The bow sang once more like a swallow

The arrow whistled in the air

Passed through the axes.

It got stuck to the tree behind them.

Telemachus slowly, almost in a ritual manner, lowered the bow. He drew a deep breath; the flowers of the mountain, the salt of the sea, the smell of the animals and crops. He smelt Ithaca. Yes, he knew now more than ever this place gave strength. He understood now. And now it was totally his to keep and protect. And he would protect it to his last breath! His eyes were no longer tearful. His heart was light.

Have a good rest… My King…Odysseus…Man of Many Wiles…Man Much Tormented… Sacker of Cities…King of Ithaca…King of Cephallinians…

Goodbye…

Father…

***

So this request is finally done... Unfortunately the reason I was so inspired to finish it was because today I lost one good conversation partner here on Tumblr for they deleated their account. They couldn't stand the toxicity of some people attacking them They were one of the few people getting out of their way to read my stories and ACTUALLY leave lengthy and meaningful comments under them for discussion and that meant so much to me. Now unfortunately their comments are gone and their account deactivated and couldn't even say a proper goodbye to them deleating their account for they were THAT eager to get out of this... I hope I shall see them in the future but still all the amazing comments and conversations we had no longer will be there... So yes inspiration for this request.

I combined funerary customs of Bronze Age times such as the tombs that were opened and re-opened to put new individuals in as much as we theorize but also the prothesis and funerary meals and games that we see in Homer and in later archaic and classical Greece.

And as you see here we have also the choice of Nausicaa as the mother of Perseptolis (an idea discussed with @ditoob too among others along with them expressing the need to see more stuff on mature Telemachus out there)

Some Nausicaa and Telemachus drama too.

Special thanks to @cr4zy-cycl0n3 for their comment to the second part of the main story and @styberusartz to the first one. And as always @loco-bird account!

Working also on ideas with @artsofmetamoor as always!

[littlesparklight]

Epithets!

Not exhaustive, of course, I'm not that crazy. But a couple things that might be interesting, maybe! To note first of all is that epithets are partially ruled by metric necessity in the whole line, so they don't always say something in regards to what is used where/when for characters. That doesn't mean, however, they don't say anything, and the use is worthy of a look!

Dios. One of the most "basic" ones is probably "dios" (literally "divine", translated variously and shining, radiant, glorious, illustrious, etc); it gets used a lot, for a lot of characters. However, the distribution still varies;

Achilles: 57 Hektor: 38 Odysseus: 22 Agenor: 7 Agamemnon: 6 Alexander/Paris: 6 (4 times along with "husband of fair-haired Helen") Sarpedon: 5 Diomedes: 4 Helen: (as "divine among women"): 3

I've excluded any use below three times, but know there's quite a few people who does get it one or two times! But the way only three people have it applied the most to them is interesting! (Admittedly I might be off 1-2 occurrences or so for Hektor and Achilles especially, I almost lost my place a couple times in the list.)

Theoeides/Areiphilos. These two are being considered together for of the simple reason that, out of the 12 times this is used of Paris, 6 of them alone are in Book 3. This is complementary to how of the 19 times it's used of Menelaos in the Iliad, 13 of them appear in Book 3. Whatever other considerations, they're definitely being very pointedly used here.

"Theoeides" is one of the words for "god-like" but very specifically "god-looks"; physical appearance such as the gods'. Areiphilos is usually translated as "loved of Ares" but a couple times, undoubtedly depending on translator, it can be translated as "warlike" instead. This is about Achilles in Book 2, and in a couple places a probably formular phrase that reads "the Trojans and the [warlike/dear to Ares] Achaeans" in some manner.

Aside from those few instances it's used in the collective and the once to refer to Achilles, Iliad-wise Menelaos basically "owns" this epithet. Paris isn't the sole individual theoeides is used for, but he's certainly the one it's used the most of. Priam comes next, at 9 times of use. The ones it's used the most for next is Telemachos (6 times) and Theoklymenos (5 times) in the Odyssey. So even taking these two together, they don't quite add up to Paris' total.

Good at the war cry. This is basically "shared" between Menelaos and Diomedes, though Diomedes edges him out slightly; it's used 19 times for him and 16 for Menelaos.

Xanthos. Much like areiphilos and good at the war cry, this is basically Menelaos' epithet alone in the Iliad (used 17 times). In other sources/genres, Helen gets this applied to her as well, though! (Hesiodic corpus and by lyric poets.)

Shining Alexander, husband of beautiful-haired Helen. I have no idea why, but this is, epics-wise anyway, only used of Paris. Nowhere I've found in the Odyssey is it used of Menelaos, and I have no idea if it might be used of him in other sources. If it's not, Paris alone gets this epithet. It's used 6 times in the Iliad, and four of those six it comes with "dios" in front. It's used when Paris arms himself for the duel, then when he speaks out against Antenor, refusing to hand back Helen; it's then used when he kills Nestor's horse as well as when he injures Diomedes and Machaon (but not, despite the beginning pattern here, when he injures Eurypylus). The last one is when Hektor finds him on the battlefield and then proceeds to - with no cause - insult him.

I think the interesting thing here is that, aside from when it's used in the nightly Trojan council in Book 7, which definitely is probably rather pointed given what Paris is saying, this epithet is pretty clearly war-related.

Not in the way that it describes prowess in war, because it obviously doesn't. Rather, that it occurs when Paris is actively (about to) fighting, and specifically accomplishing something martial.

[minervarosewilliams]

February 14th 2022 Asteroid Read for Benedict

Feb14 Eris 23 Aries 47 conjunct Feb14 Lova 24 Aries 58

(This is an unfortunate pairing for Valentine’s Day. Eris is the goddess of Discord.)

Feb14 Achilles 0 Taurus 37 conjunct Feb14 Alethia 0 Taurus 37

(Our weak spot is realizing the thing we already knew.)

Feb14 Cassanova 28 Aries 58 conjunct Benedict Moon 28 Aries 55

(He is really going to want to play the field today.)

Feb14 Amor 7 Taurus 47 conjunct Benedict Circe 7 Taurus 41

(Some Louis Wain energy here. Loving cats, loving being a cat…)

Benedict Abundantia 10 Cancer 19 conjunct Benedict Part of Fortune 10 Cancer 49

Benedict MIDHEAVEN 11 Cancer 22

Sophie Zavist 10 Cancer 10

Sophie Mobius 10 Cancer 18

Feb14 Hades 10 Cancer 6 Rx

(Benedict’s publicly seen good fortune on her neverending jealousy. This part is natal and is always happening. It is currently being triggered by Hades, god of the underworld and death. There may be some horrible idea she can get his money if he dies.)

Feb14 Disneya 9 Scorpio 25 conjunct Benedict NORTH NODE 8 Scorpio 39 Rx

Benedict Ixion 8 Scorpio 43 Rx

Benedict Constable 8 Scorpio 44

Benedict McAuliffe 9 Scorpio 12

Benedict Tape 9 Scorpio 24

sextile

Feb14 Ratte 8 Virgo 32

Benedict Marple 8 Virgo 11

Benedict Sisyphus 8 Virgo 21

Sophie Prey 9 Virgo 3 Rx

Sophie Theoklymenos 9 Virgo 39 Rx

(I am not altogether happy with this. Disney on his NN, that is going in a direction it should. Ixion is the first murderer, small consolation they’ ll all go to jail. A disaster asteroid, and being caught on tape. This is reminding me of an aspect of JFK’s assassination that Obama used on bin Ladin. If there is a plot, they’ll regret it. Miss Marples is an Agatha Christie detective. Ratte is triggering the same disaster asteroid that Mousa is to Sophie. Theoklymenos was a seer.)

*This is the same degree as one of my prenatal eclipses. I am supposed to teach the correct use of power. Benedict’s is °180 from here; he is supposed to teach the correct use of personal property and values.

Feb14 Mousa 16 Taurus 25 conjunct Sophie Lie 15 Taurus 27

Sophie Kassandra 16 Taurus 10

Sophie Rumplestilz 16 Taurus 25 ?

Sophie Sisyphus 16 Taurus 36

opposition

Benedict Pandora 16 Scorpio 9

Benedict Stargazer 16 Scorpio 09

Benedict Tore 16 Scorpio 11

Benedict Lie 16 Scorpio 44

Feb14 Split 17 Scorpio 36

(This didn’t make sense, until I found the above aspect. Why would the mouse be on her side? Not. Kassandra was not believed. A fairytale character who bought children, and a disaster asteroid. LIE.

She’s being watched.

Opposing we have letting all the mischief out. Stargazer is me, on his Athene Rosa, and ripping up a lie. SPLIT.)

Leavit 0 Aries 26 at the zero Ariespoint of new beginnings.

Feb14 Juno 5 Aquarius 6 conjunct Benedict Divorce (Arabic) 5 Aquarius 3

(THE GODDESS OF MARRIAGE PASSES OVER HIS DIVORCE POINT THE DAY OF THE ‘ANNIVERSARY’.)

[mythologyfolklore]

Ares and Athena through the years - Ch. 15

Chapter Fifteen: The Odyssey, Final Part

.

After turning Odysseus into an elderly and ugly beggar and letting him know, what his son was up to, Athena flew to Sparta to inform Telemakhos, that he had to return home.

Odysseus himself on the other hand wandered through the landscape, until he found the house of his swineherd. There he was attacked and nearly ripped apart by the guard dogs. Fortunately, the swineherd saw what was going on and drove the dogs away.

After inviting him into his home and giving him food and drink, they bonded over their misery and Odysseus was pleased to hear, that Eumaios (that was the swineherd's name) wished for nothing more than his true king's safe return.

The “beggar” told a fib, that he had once been a rich man from Crete, but then had been struck by fate and now had nothing, but the rags he was wearing. He also lied, that he had heard of hims- uh, the great Odysseus. Eumaios was obviously sceptical, like any sane man would have been.

Seeing, that he wouldn't convince the other, the disguised hero suggested a bet and the swineherd agreed.

Then the latter and his fellow servants slaughtered a pig, sacrificed to the gods and the local Nymphai and then shared the meat with him and among themselves.¹

Later Zeus apparently thought it would be funny to let it storm and rain all night long.

Since Odysseus had nothing but his rags, he tricked the swineherd into letting him borrow his cloak.

Then everyone lay down to sleep.

Alone Eumaios didn't stay inside the house and preferred to sleep with the pigs outside.

Odysseus noticed and his heart was warmed at this display of dutifulness and loyalty.

.

Meanwhile, Telemakhos was having the time of his life in Sparta at the wealthy court of Menélaos and Helene, the godlike and glorious pair.

One night, he was visited by the goddess Athena in a dream.

“It's time to go back home”, she urged, “Even her family is pressuring your mother to remarry. Return home, before it's too late and she will be forced to take a new husband. You know what always happens, when a woman remarries. And another thing: her suitors are lurking along the channel between Ithaka and Samos, plotting to murder you. Sail another way home, at night and land at a more secret spot on Ithaka. Once there, spend the rest of the night at the hut of Eumaios, but send the ship and your companions to town.”

In the morning Telemakhos and his new friend, Nestor's son Peisistratos went to Menélaos and Helene and informed them, that they wished to depart. The king and queen quickly went to prepare splendid guest presents for the young men, beautiful items of both material and personal value; despite everything, neither Menélaos nor Helene had lost any of their generosity.

“Farewell”, Menélaos spoke, “And say hello to Nestor from me. He was like a father to me too², when we were at war with the Trojans.”

The two young men promised to do so.

Right in that moment, an eagle swooped down from the sky to kill a goose in the yard, startling several servants.

Peisistratos turned to Menélaos: “What does this mean? Is this omen directed to you or to us?”

Menélaos thought hard, but it was Helene, who answered: “Allow me. I know what it means, for the King of the Skies himself is my father. It's simple: the eagle that just slew the goose is Odysseus, coming home from his wanderings. The goose stands for the insolent suitors he will vanquish. Your father, Telemakhos, will soon be home or is already there and plotting his revenge.”

“Oh, may you be right!”, Telemakhos cried, “And I shall honour you like a goddess, if so!”

They said their goodbyes and left.

First the two princes returned to Pylos and Telemakhos dropped his new friend off.

“Say hi to Nestor and give him my apologies”, he spoke, “But I can't waste any time here and need to get home quickly.”

Peisistratos grinned: “Knowing my dad, he'll insist that you stay as his guest for a few days. He's really bull-headed, you know. Doesn't take 'no' for an answer. So you better sneak away, before he notices you.”

Telemakhos grinned back, said goodbye and quickly went back aboard.

The ship was about to leave the harbour of Pylos, ere Nestor could catch them and throw a hissy fit, because they hadn't even stopped long enough to say hi, when a stranger approached Telemakhos. He introduced himself as Theoklymenos a fugitive from Argos and gifted seer and begged the prince to take him along, as he was being pursued. Telemakhos pitied the man and consented.

On their way across the sea, the gods sent them good wind and they made quick progress.

When the sun went down, Odysseus' son bid the crew to make a detour to a more remote shore of Ithaka under the veil of darkness.

.

Meanwhile Odysseus was sitting with Eumaios and the other men at dinner.

Still wanting to test his hospitality, he informed the swineherd that he wanted to go to town the next day to beg. Or he could go and offer his services to the suitors for just a bit of food.

Eumaios stared at him, aghast. “Are you suicidal? Those men are violent and impious and have servants of their own, young and well-dressed men with pretty faces. No, stay here, where no one is bothered by your presence. But Odysseus' son will soon come home, he will give you food and clothes. Then you can go wherever you like, just … stay away from those brutes.”

Odysseus relented, wishing that Zeus would like this serving man as much as he did.

“But tell me about Odysseus' family”, he requested, “How are they doing? Who of them is still alive and who has descended to the underworld?”

“Well …”

Laertes was still alive, but living in misery away from the palace and wasting away from grief for his late wife and missing son. The old queen had passed away from heartache.

“… As for our queen Penelope … well, we can't expect kindness from her, ever since those cursed men have invaded our home and brought nothing but bale. As much as we want to speak to her, she has enough grief as it is.”

.

Later Odysseus and Eumaios were tending the fire, when the former noticed the dogs running around with wagging tails.

“Someone's coming, but the dogs aren't barking”, he pointed out to Eumaios. “That must be someone you know.”

He had just finished his sentence, when a young man about twenty, with chestnut hair and sharp mossy green eyes, entered the yard. Eumaios promptly dropped everything and went to welcome him, like a father would welcome his sorely missed son. There were lots of tears from the older and kind, soothing words and smiles from the other.

Odysseus' heart almost stopped, when he recognised his own son and he really wanted to be part of that, but had to contain himself.

Oh gods, how my baby boy has grown!

“How is the situation?”, Telemakhos inquired.

“Still awful.”

“Ah, nothing has changed then. Anyway, good to see you, my friend. And may I ask, who is this guest of yours?”

Eumaios related to him what he had heard.

The prince frowned. “Oh … oh dear. I will see, what I can do. Eumaios, I think you should keep him here for now. I will bring guest gifts to him and provisions, so he won't eat you poor. I would rather not allow him to go up to my hall, where the suitors are vying for my mother's hand. Their blasphemy and impertinence knows no bounds and it would break my heart to see them mistreat and disrespect this poor fellow.”

Odysseus took the opportunity and cleared his throat: “Excuse me, if you don't mind? I already heard about the behaviour of those men. That sounds really outrageous. Why do you just let them do as they please in your father's house? If I was your age or, say, the king himself, coming home from his wanderings, I would make them pay for their impudence in blood!”

Sadly, his son told him what the problem was.

Then he asked the swineherd to go up to the palace and tell Penelope, that her son was back home and would come to see her the next day. So Eumaios did.

.

This was just the moment Athena had been waiting for.

She appeared to Odysseus (but not to Telemakhos) and waved at him. He understood and followed her outside. The dogs sensed her presence and all began to whimper and cower in fear.

“It's time”, Athena spoke, “for your son to know you, Odysseus. You need to begin to plot the demise of your enemies together with him. I will be near at all times, for I too thirst for battle.”

With that she stripped the illusion off of him and restored him to his younger, vigorous and noble-looking self.

“Go back”, she said, “Your son has been wanting for you long enough, don't you agree?”

.

Telemakhos was thunderstruck, when the stranger returned from the outside as a strong, kingly looking man in his prime.

“Did you just … shapeshift?!”, he gasped, “Zeus have mercy on me! You're a god! Oh please, show us kindness and we will give you the best sacrifices we have to offer-”

“Whoa there! Settle down!”, the other man cried, “Don't compare me to the gods, it's as blasphemous as it is embarrassing. I'm your father! The man who has been kept away from you for twenty years! I'm home!”

And embraced him tearfully.

Telemakhos' head was spinning. “W-wait! This is too good to be true! I can't believe such a crass thing! How do I know, that I'm not being deceived by a Daimon? You can't be a mere mortal, you went outside as an elderly beggar and returned as a nobleman in his prime!”

“This was the will of Pallas Athena”, the older man explained, “She cast an illusion on me to make me unrecognisable and now she has stripped it away. It is easy for the gods to beautify or deface mortals at will.”

The younger man looked the other in the eyes. Often had he heard from others (especially his mother), that he had his father's eyes. And when he looked into the other's, they were the same as his own, only sharper, older and more melancholy.

Now Telemakhos burst into tears himself, hugged back and they both cried their hearts out.

Once they calmed down, Odysseus told his son about everything that had happened to him.

Then father and son began to make plans on how to proceed further.

.

At the palace, Telemakhos' companions and crew arrived, at the same time as Eumaios.

They informed Penelope, that her son was home and would be joining her soon, which made the grieving queen feel significantly better.

The suitors were miffed at those news and collectively went out into the yard to plot.

Their leader Antinoos (who also was one of the biggest dicks) suggested, that since their ambush had failed, they should try again and kill him more discreetly, before he could tell anyone, that they had tried to kill him.

Right in that moment, a livid Penelope herself stepped outside.

“YOU!”, she shouted furiously at Antinoos, “You bale-smith! You insolent fool! People used to say, that you're one of the best in counsel and speech, but I have seen nothing but the opposite from you! Have you forgot, that the King of the Skies himself is witness to all supplicants? Need I remind you, how your own father came here as a fugitive? A former pirate, who had incurred the wrath of both the people of Ithaka and of our allies, the Thresprotians, for attacking them! They wanted to kill him and raid his property, but my dear Odysseus intervened. And you! All you ever do here is consume his own goods without compensation, woo his wife and now you want to murder his only son! Cease your murder plots this instant and tell the others to do the same!”

It was Eurymakhos, who intervened and assured the angered queen, that no one was seriously plotting a murder (which was a lie; the only one who wasn't plotting was Amphinomos).

Penelope gave everyone a death glare and returned to her chambers, where she cried herself to sleep.

.

Next morning, Telemakhos decided, that he shouldn't let his mother wait any longer and prepared return to his palace.

Eurykleia, the old first maid saw him first and ran up to welcome him home. She was quickly followed by the rest of the household staff, until Penelope herself exited her chambers to see what was going on.

Tearfully she embraced her son and welcomed him home.

“My sweet light!”, she sobbed, “I feared I would never see you again. How could you just skulk out of my house without telling me?! Now you must tell me all about your journey!”

“Later”, Telemakhos promised, “First we need to properly invite the stranger I brought along from Pylos. And I really could use a bath. As for you, freshen yourself up and go to the house altar with the maids. Pray to the gods and promise them the best sacrifices we can give them, if Zeus will grant us retribution at last.”

Penelope did so.

.

When the young man came out refreshed, Athena made him more handsome than he already was, so that everyone who saw him stopped to marvel at his stateliness.

Maybe I should add 'Goddess of beauty' to my domains, she thought drily. Aphrodite's face would be absolutely priceless!

The young prince ignored the empty wheedling of the suitors and sat with his father's old companions, who asked him about everything that had occurred to him.

Later he finally reported to his mother what he had learned on his trip.

At that opportunity, his guest Theoklymenos approached Penelope and proclaimed, that Odysseus was already home and would soon end the wrong-doings of the suitors. Penelope didn't believe him, but still promised him riches, if his word came true.

.

In the meantime Odysseus (again disguised as a beggar) and Eumaios were going into town.

On the way they met the goatherd Melantheus, who immediately began to mock the two.

Eumaios scowled: “If Odysseus was here, he would shut your mouth!”

“Hah!”, Melantheus barked, “This will never happen! Your Odysseus is dead and will never return! And I hope that Telemakhos will soon be dead too!” The goatherd cackled and left.

Odysseus' blood was boiling, but he had to contain himself.

The two continued on their way.

.

As they came near to the royal palace, someone noticed them: Argos, Odysseus' faithful dog.

Twenty years before, the king had tamed him to be his hunting dog, but hadn't got to take delight him him, as he had been torn away from home. A long time ago, Argos had been well cared for and a stately dog, but these days he lay in a corner, neglected and plagued by ticks and fleas.

As soon as he heard the voice of Odysseus, he weakly lifted his head and ears.

Recognising his master, Argos happily wagged his tail, but was too weak to approach.

Odysseus saw his faithful pet and wanted to cry.

But he blinked away his tears and instead asked Eumaios: “Why is that poor dog lying there beside the dung heap? He must have been such a fine and good pet once. Was he a swift hunting dog, or was his owner just keeping him for luxury?”

“The former”, the swineherd answered sadly, “And if he was still in the same shape as he was, when our lord departed for Troy, you would be dazzled by his speed and strength. He was the best hunting dog a man could have. But now, that his master is away, the faithless servants neglect him.”

Odysseus' heart shattered, but he couldn't show it.

But Argos, having seen his master again after twenty years, finally passed on.

Seeing, that his faithful companion was no more, Odysseus swallowed his tears and continued on his way with Eumaios, hating that he couldn't grieve for his good boy openly.

.

They had just snuck into the hall and Telemakhos had given Odysseus some food.

After eating that, Athena advised him to beg the suitors for mild alms, just to see who had a modicum of decency.

He did so and most were pitying enough to give him some food.

But when Melantheus, the rude goatherd from earlier, told them that the swineherd had brought the beggar here, Antinoos verbally attacked poor Eumaios for his “impertinence” in bringing another freeloader here (which was hilarious, since the suitors were all freeloaders).

Eumaios was visibly upset, but kept his composure.

Telemakhos came to his aid. “Leave him alone”, he snapped at Antinoos, “And the stranger too! Really and that wants to be the future husband of my mother! Give him alms – it's the duty of the rich to the poor.”

Antinoos made a snappish retort and went back to his own meal, without complying.

The others had no objection to giving just a bit of food each of them; after all their meal was abundant.

But when the hero politely asked Antinoos for just a crumb of bread and the other just insulted him, Odysseus reproached his disrespect and unkindness. This made the suitor so angry, that he threw a chair at the older man. He didn't even stagger, but his anger grew and grew, though he still contained himself.

Even the other suitors were indignant at this and they chewed him out; after all everyone knew that sometimes the gods themselves came down from the heavens as lowly travellers to test the righteousness and hospitality of mortals.

Yet their irritation was nothing compared to the anger of Telemakhos, Penelope and some of the maids, who collectively wished to see this disrespectful prick dead.

The hero in disguise meanwhile sat in a corner and ate what he had been given.

.

Later Iros, another beggar from the city came to ask for food.

When he saw the older man sitting by the door, he told him to go away.

Odysseus glared and refused, saying there was enough for both of them.

Then the two beggars got into an argument.

The amused suitors suggested a fight and the winner would receive one of the big goat stomachs that were roasting above the fire.

The younger beggar had confidence in his youth, while Odysseus just considered, whether he should kill the other with one blow or just break his bones.

He decided on the latter, royally kicked the other's arse and dragged him out of the hall.

Impressed by the show and by his fighting prowess, the other men awarded him the promised goat stomach.

One of the friendlier ones, a young man named Amphinomos, toasted to him and wished him good fortune. Odysseus found this endearing and warned the younger to watch his back. This made Amphinomos so uncomfortable, that he spent the rest of the night brooding about it.

Not that it was of any use; his fate was already decided by the gods.

.

Soon after, Penelope came outside to speak to her suitors.

Athena had done her thing again and restored her to the full flower of her youth, while she had been asleep, so the suitors would be so captivated by her beauty as to cater to her every whim.

And indeed, they were struck by desire and began to ooh and aah, when they saw the woman they were wooing step into the room, albeit her face was veiled, as usual when she left her chambers.

Penelope whoever first said to her son: “Really, my son, you were more sensible when you were younger. How could you just stand by as these men here abused the poor stranger so terribly and disgracefully?”

“Your anger is completely understandable”, Telemakhos responded, “However, you must remember, that it would have been me against all of them. I have no helper here, there was nothing I could have done. All we can do is pray to Father Zeus, Pallas Athena and Phoibos Apollon, that these brutes will suffer a fate like Iros or worse.”

Thus they spoke to each other, until Eurymakhos approached them, another really unpleasant individual among the suitors.

“Oh shrewd daughter of Ikarios, if everyone saw you now!”, he cried, “You would have a lot more suitors in your hall by tomorrow, for you're the first of women in beauty, growth and mind.”

“I'm not nearly as beautiful as I once was”, Penelope replied, “My beauty and growth have been diminished by grief for the awesome hero, whom the gods took away from me. If he came back to me, my happiness alone would restore my beauty, but now I waste away without him by the will of the cruel Moirai. Before he left, he entrusted his states into my care, that I would watch over them and over his dear parents and that, once our son has grown into a man, I should leave the house and remarry, if I wanted to. That dreaded day is nigh and I will be forced to agree to the remarriage I loathe so. Your conduct causes me additional pain; never has there been such usage among suitors! Any honest men wooing and competing for a wealthy woman would bring life stock of their own to eat and rich gifts for the bride's family – instead of consuming the goods of another without any compensation.”

This prompted the men to send their servants to fetch precious gifts from their own quarters.

Penelope accepted them and retreated to her chambers, while her maids carried the valuables after her.

Odysseus' heart swelled with pride at how his dear wife had beguiled these men into showering her with gifts.

That's my wife!

.

In the evening, after Odysseus had endured more abuse from some of the worse suitors, Telemakhos had finally ordered them all to go to bed and sleep off their rush.

Finally alone, he and his son began to put their own murder plot into motion, first by hiding the armour and weapons of the suitors.

When Athena conjured a golden light to lead the way in the dark corridor, Telemakhos became aware of her presence and ooh-ed and aah-ed.

His father shushed him, saying that now was not the time to question anything and that this was simply the way of the Immortals, to stand by the mortals they liked, while remaining unseen.

Once they had hidden all the weaponry, Telemakhos went to sleep.

Alone again, he continued to hold counsel with Athena, until Penelope entered with some of her maids.

While the servants tidied up the mess the suitors had made earlier, one of the young girls insulted Odysseus for no reason. He just got to make a warning retort, before the queen herself interfered.

“Enough! Don't think that I don't notice your perpetually outrageous behaviour! Now shoo! For as you all know, I wish to talk to this man.”

The first maid brought a chair for Odysseus and all servants saw themselves out.

.

Once they were alone, Penelope addressed him: “So, won't you tell me, who you are, who your parents are and where you come from?”

“I will tell you everything”, Odysseus said, “except for that; my story is very depressing and will just make us both more miserable. I don't want to anger anyone by bawling inside your home, like a sad drunk.”

“I can't become more miserable than I already am”, Penelope returned and told him of her own misfortune.

For many years, she had been waiting for her husband to come home. After sixteen years, everyone apparently had decided, that she was now a widow – even though there was no proof he was dead – and men from Ithaka and the surrounding islands had come to woo for her unwilling hand.

She had claimed, that she needed to weave a fine burial shroud for her father-in-law. They had relented to give her the time to finish it. So she had weaved by day, but each night she had loosened the threads, so she'd had to start anew. This trick had worked for three years, until some treacherous maids had caught her and ratted her out to the suitors.

“Now I'm running out of excuses, my parents are pressuring me to remarry and my son is sick of these men consuming his property. I'm at the end of my wits. Even so, tell me your story.”

Odysseus yielded and served her the same made-up tragic life story he had told everyone, who had asked. He also claimed that he had met hims- uhh, the great hero Odysseus and hosted him for a few weeks, before sailing on to Troy.

This made Penelope burst into tears and wail for her husband, who was sitting in front of her, but she didn't know.

He really wanted nothing more than to hug her and never let her go, but he still needed to keep his act up.

“Just to be sure”, the poor woman sniffled, “Describe him to me. Just as you remember him.”

Odysseus frowned: “Oh dear … this will be tough, after all it was twenty years ago! Let's see …”

And described in great detail the very attire he had worn on the day he had sailed from Ithaka.

She cried harder, recalling that she had made the clothes for him.

After calming down, she accepted his tale.

He promised her, that her husband – ahem, was already here, ahem – would soon be coming home.

She didn't buy it, but ordered for someone to wash his feet.

.

The one chosen for this task was an elderly servant, whom Odysseus recognised as his nurse.

Eurykleia noted that he resembled her missing king.

“I used to hear that a lot”, he told her, “That he and I looked similar.”

She filled a basin with water and he scooted away from the fire into the shadows, fearing that she would recognise him.

.

As the old woman was washing his feet, her fingers brushed over the scar on his thigh.

She froze and old memories flooded her mind …

.

Antikleia had just given birth to her and Laertes' child.

The nurse was holding the screaming baby in her lap.

Suddenly the door opened and in came the mother's father: Autolykos, son of Hermes and a shapeshifting thief.

His teal-coloured eyes skimmed over the scene and he smiled.

Eurykleia lifted the baby from her lap and handed him to his grandfather.

“Come and say hello your grandson”, she invited him.

As soon as the baby boy sat on his grandfather's knee, he stopped wailing and stretched out his arms.

Autolykos laughed and held his finger out for those tiny hands to hold.

The nurse's smile broadened at the sight and after exchanging a glance with the proud parents, she asked the old man: “Do you want to pick a name for your grandchild?”

The demigod thought for a moment: “Hm … I was wroth at the world, when I came here. Give him the name I tell you: 'Odysseus', 'The Wrathful One'. For his life will be a hard, but glorious one. When he comes to age, send him up to my own property. For I have many presents I want to give to my grandson, when he becomes a man.”

When Odysseus grew to age, his parents sent him to visit his grandfather and uncles.

They welcomed him happily.

Later the day, he and his uncles went out to hunt, but he was attacked by a boar. He managed to kill it, only after the beast's tusks dug into his thigh, ripping away a chunk of his flesh.

His uncles took care of the wound and carried him and their spoils back to their father's home.

Autolykos healed his grandson and sent him back home to his parents with lots of presents.

There Odysseus told everyone how he had got that scar, which later on became one of his trademark features.

.

Eurykleia burst into tears and sobs: “It's you! You're Odysseus, my dear child! And I didn't even recognise you, before I touched your scar! You're back!”

In her joy she wanted to go and tell Penelope the good news, but Odysseus grabbed her.

“Not a word!”, he hissed, “Do you want to get me killed?! Keep your mouth shut! For if a god vanquishes the suitors through me, I will spare no one, not even you, my nurse.”

Eurykleia smiled crookedly, completely unfazed by the fact, that her master was gripping her by the neck. But she promised to remain silent.

“When you have defeated them”, she whispered, “Shall I tell you the names of the disloyal household members?”

“No need, I'll spot them on my own”, he declined.

She went to get new water and finished washing and salving his feet.

Odysseus scooted closer to the fire again to warm himself and concealed the scar with his rags.

Penelope, who had been distracted the entire time, continued their conversation from earlier.

“Before we go to bed, there are a few more things I want to ask you. Your words and behaviour have shown that you're a witty and clever man, so I would be obliged, if you could interpret this dream for me: I was standing in my yard and geese were picking up grain from the ground, when an eagle swooped down from the sky and killed all of them. I wept for the loss, when suddenly the eagle began to talk! He told me, that he was my beloved Odysseus, that the geese were my suitors and that he would be coming home soon to smite them all. Then I woke up. What does it mean?”

“Exactly as Odysseus told you”, the hero replied, “What you saw was the near future. He will come home and kill them all. It's as simple as that.”

Not quite that simple, but whatever.

“I don't know”, Penelope said doubtfully, “But I have an idea: tomorrow I will hold a competition. My husband has an extremely strong recurved bow that so far only he has been able to string. I will put up twelve axes with hollow heads and only a man equal to my husband will be able to string the bow and shoot an arrow through the twelve axe heads.”

I'm so in love with this woman!

“That's an amazing idea!”, Odysseus praised her. “Waste no time in holding the competition. But now it's time to sleep; soon it will be morning.”

She bid him good night and went to bed.

As he lay down near the fire, he noticed some of the maidservants sneaking out of their rooms into the suitor's quarters. He fumed with anger, but swallowed it – he had seen so many more outrageous things after all.

Right as he had finished that thought, he heard Athena's voice.

“Why are you still awake?”, she questioned, “Does it not soothe you to come back to see your wife still being so faithful to you after all these years? And that your child has grown into the best son a man could wish for?”

“You're right”, he agreed, “But I have worries – I don't think I can stand against so many suitors all by myself. And if I do, what will happen hereafter? Many will be angered at the murder of the entire noble population of my kingdom and those around.”

He heard her huff in frustration, before she began to scold him: “Alright, Odysseus, listen up! First off, where is your courage? Have you left it behind in Troy?! Secondly, have you forgot, that I'm always looking out for you? Many other men trust lesser companions than a god and you're still so doubtful? With me by your side, Odysseus, you could defeat hundreds of men – you did back in the Trojan War, just as Diomedes and Menélaos did. You know that. Mark my words, son of Laertes: in the morning you, your son and I will slaughter those many foes and leave none of them alive. As for the aftermath, leave that to me. Now sleep, for you need to rest before the fight tomorrow.”

Then he felt an irresistible exhaustion, as the great goddess put a deep slumber onto him.

.

Soon rosy-fingered Êôs brought the dawn.

Odysseus was woken up by the sound of his dear wife weeping.

Distraught by the sound and still nervous because of what was to come, he prayed for a sign from Zeus.

The King of the Skies heard and let it thunder.

In the yard, several women grinding corn to flour heard it and began to murmur. When Odysseus heard them wish, that today would be the last meal for the suitors, his heart was glad.

Soon Eurykleia shooed the maids out of their beds.

“Today is a day of celebration!”, she announced, “So off to work with you all! You know your tasks.”

The maids, significantly more awake at the news, hurried to do as told.

As they were scurrying around, the suitors swaggered him, some more hungover than the others and all rather grumpy at being woken up so early.

They were followed by Eumaios, who drove several fat pigs into the kitchen, before joining Odysseus in his spot beside the fire.

“Are they still disrespectful to you?”, he inquired.

The disguised hero scowled: “Yes and I wish they were dead.”

“Most here do”, the swineherd muttered.

As they were sticking their heads together, the goatherd Melantheus passed by.

“Are you still here, beggar? Fuck off and bother someone else!”, he snapped at Odysseus.

The latter didn't reply, just silently plotted the other's demise.

The rude goatherd was followed by another man, Philoitos, the local cattle herd.

“Sorry for that”, he apologised for the other, “He may officially be the goatherd, but his actual profession is being a prick. Greetings, good stranger! May you have better fortune in the future, though you live in misery right now. Gods, you look just like I remember our true lord Odysseus! I could tell from the very moment I saw you. Perhaps he suffers the same fate as you and has to wander the earth, ragged and begging for his bread. Meanwhile I am forced to drive the cattle he entrusted to me back then to this house for invaders to eat. Oh, if only he would finally come home and kill them all!”

Oh thank Athena, another ally!

Odysseus promised him and Eumaios, that what they were praying for would happen soon.

.

At the same time the suitors were still plotting how to discreetly murder Telemakhos, when they saw an eagle carrying a dove in its talons.

“It's not going to work”, Amphinomos spoke up, “Let's have breakfast instead.”

So they did.

After breakfast, they gathered at the shrine of Apollon to sacrifice to him and the gods, before eating the rest.

.

Apollon meanwhile was glaring down onto the scene.

“Get the fuck out of my sanctuary, you putrid scum!”, he snarled, “Get out! I'm not granting your worthless prayers!”

Zeus patted his son's shoulder. “There, there. They'll be dead soon.”

“I know, father”, the younger grumbled.

.

In Odysseus' palace, the king in disguise had grown even angrier than he already was, as Athena had warped the sanity of the suitors to rile him up more.

This didn't go completely unnoticed by Theoklymenos, the seer from Argos. He felt the presence of the war goddess and observed the nasty scene.

The suitors' faces distorted strangely, they were laughing unnaturally, while crying at the same time, the meat they were eating was bloody and they somehow sensed coming bale.

But when the prophet told them of what he was seeing, he got laughed at.

“The man is insane!”, Eurymakhos claimed, “Perhaps we should accompany him to the market place, since he sees only darkness here!”

“No thank you”, Theoklymenos replied nonchalantly, “I have functioning eyes, ears and feet and a perfectly sound mind. With their help, I'll leave this house now, for I see nothing but bale for you all, who commit outrage in Odysseus' house and disrespect everyone here. Farewell.”

Then he walked out like a boss.

.

While all this was happening, Penelope had gone into her husband's armoury to get his strongest bow, arrows and twelve axes.

She set the weapons up, gathered the suitors and proclaimed: “Alright, you freeloaders who had no other excuse than that you want to seek my hand in marriage! It's time that you earn it! Here I have my husband's strongest bow. The one of you, who strings this bow most easily and use it to shoot an arrow through all twelve axe heads, will win my hand.”

Eumaios and Philoitos wept, when they saw their lord's bow, but were mocked by Antinoos.

Latter hoped to be the one to win the competition – little did he know, that he would be the first to die by that bow and arrows.

But it was Telemakhos, who came forward first. “Let me try first, if I'm yet capable of wielding my father's priced weapon”, he requested and it was granted.

He readied the bow and tried to string it three times. But just as he was about to succeed, Odysseus gestured for him to stop now. Pretending to be disappointed, he stepped back.

One by one, the suitors attempted and failed to string the bow of cunning Odysseus and sat back down with huge dents in their pride.

While they were making fools of themselves, Odysseus and the cattle- and swineherd had left the room for a little.

“Tell me, you two, the truth and nothing but: if Odysseus now came home to reclaim his property, would you follow him or the suitors?”

“Odysseus!”, they responded in unison.

He smiled. “Good, because he's already here! It's me! After twenty years and many a misadventure, I'm finally home. And I see that of all my servants only you two and Eurykleia truly longed for my return; I heard none of the others pray for me to come home. But you shall know the truth: once I have vanquished the suitors, you two shall be rewarded with riches and a wife. You will be friends to my son and me. And should you be in doubt; see this scar on my thigh, done to me by the tusk of a boar, when I was hunting with my uncles on Mount Parnassos.”

They saw the treacherous scar, gasped in shock and tearfully hugged their rightful king.

“Now, now”, Odysseus stopped them after a while. “I'm afraid we need to postpone the happy reunion to later. Now you need to do exactly as I say: when we go back inside, I will ask to have a turn with the bow. They will refuse me, but you, Eumaios, give it to me anyway and then go to tell the women to go to their quarters and stay there, no matter what. You, Philoitos, go and lock the doors to the yard.”

Then the three snuck back inside.

There Eurymakhos was currently trying to string the bow. After a while he gave up, complaining loudly about how humiliating it was, that no one could even string the bow of godlike Odysseus.

“Eh, who cares”, Antinoos responded, “Who wants to string bows today anyway, it's the holiday of Zeus! Let's let everything lie and try again tomorrow.”

He sounded like a huffy child.

This is priceless!, Odysseus thought and smirked for a second.

Just as they had put away the bow and its string, the war veteran requested, that – just for the heck of it – he could have a shot at it (pun intended).

He met with much protest from the suitors, but Telemakhos and Penelope scolded them.

“Don't be stupid!”, Penelope snapped at Antinoos, “It's not like this homeless man, who isn't even competing for my hand, is going to take me home as his wife, even if he manages to string the bow – unlike you all. Leave him alone.”

“That he should marry you isn't our greatest concern”, Eurymakhos explained, “But we will become a collective laughing stock, when the people find out, that we failed to string your dead husband's bow, only to lose out to a beggar.”

“That's coming from you?”, Penelope retorted, “Your behaviour alone is a humiliation, that you intrude into another's home and waste wealth that isn't yours! Never once have you all acted like honest men! Furthermore, this man is well-built and prides himself in being a great man's son. If Apollon grants him victory, I will shower him with many gifts, so he may go on his way – and there is nothing you all can do about it!”

Telemakhos agreed, yet surprised his mother by sending her to her own quarters.

As Penelope left the room, Eumaios picked up the bow, handed it to Odysseus and then went to Eurykleia to instruct her as his king had told him earlier.

Philoitos skulked away to do his part of the plan and lock all the doors to the yard.

Odysseus took the bow and strung it with ease. As he tested the sinewy string, it vibrated musically under his fingers, like it was supposed to.

From the corner of his eye, he saw the suitors blanch. And they grew even paler, when he took an arrow and shot it through the twelve axes.

In that moment, it thundered.

He ripped his rags off, turned to his son and smirked: “Now, how about we serve these noblemen a supper like they've never had before?”

Telemakhos smirked back and pulled out his sword.

The first arrow hit Antinoos in the jugular, right as he was raising his cup.

The others jumped up, screaming reproaches at Odysseus.

But the hero growled darkly: “You dogs thought I would never return from Troy, did you? You plundered my property, had your way with my maids and wooed my wife, while I was still alive, but now you're going to pay!”

Eurymakhos tried to reason and promised rich compensation, but the answer was another death threat. So he spurred the other suitors on and they chose to fight, only to be felled by Odysseus' arrow.

Amphinomos attacked, but was slain by Telemakhos.

“Let me get you armour and more weapons”, he offered and his father urged him to do so, before he ran out of arrows. Telemakhos returned with a full armour and Odysseus put it on, once he ran out of ammunition.

One of the suitors sent Melantheus to fetch arms for the suitors. But the goatherd was soon spotted by Eumaios and Philoitos, who proceeded to bind him and tie him to a pole, before arming themselves and returning to fight by the side of their king and prince.

.

It was at that moment, that Athena came down, again in the guise of Mentor.

He obviously recognised her and asked for her help, while the suitors, who didn't recognise her, screamed for her to do the exact opposite.

This angered her and she spurred the war veteran on.

But before she would grant him a devastating victory, she wanted to feast her eyes on his battle prowess.

So rather than fighting along, she diverted the spears the suitors threw, while those of the four defenders hit their marks without fail.

After all four of them (she couldn't help but be surprised at the prowess of the cowherd and the swineherd) had slain about a dozen more suitors, she finally interfered for real.

She flew up to the ceiling and raised up the terrible Aigis.

The suitors froze in fear.

That just made it easier for Odysseus and his companions, who came upon them like birds of prey.

From here the suitors were massacred without mercy.

Only two men were spared at the request of Telemakhos: the singer Phemos and the herald Medon, who had both been made to serve the suitors against their will.

The two men were sent out and Odysseus looked around to check, if any of the suitors were still alive. But he and his son and comrades had slain them all.

Athena, having done her part for now, left.

.

“Go and get Eurykleia, my son”, Odysseus asked his son, “I need to talk to her.”

Telemakhos nodded and came back with the old nurse. When she saw her lord stand amidst all the corpses, like a lion or a wolf, she rejoiced.

But Odysseus shushed her. “Rejoice on the inside, old mother. It's not appropriate to cheer over slain men. I defeated them only, because the gods willed it so, for they showed no respect or reverence, while they were still alive. But now tell me, which of the maids are treacherous and which are innocent.”

“Of the fifty women who served your family, twelve betrayed them”, Eurykleia reported, “But now I will go upstairs and tell your wife, that-”

“Not yet”, Odysseus forbade. “First bring the traitors, so I may judge them. As for you three” – he turned to his son and the cow- and swineherd – “You can start carrying the bodies outside. Order the women to do the same and clean up the mess afterwards.”

This happened and once everything was clean and tidy, the guilty maidservants were driven into the yard and hung high.

Odysseus purified the halls with brimstone and Eurykleia called the remaining maids.

With tears of happiness, they embraced their king and welcomed him home.

And he also wept with joy, as he recognised them all.

.

Good Eurykleia ran upstairs to the chambers of Penelope as fast as her age allowed.

There she woke the sleeping queen: “Wake up, wake up, my dear child! Go downstairs, so you may see what you have been longing for for twenty years! Our lord, your Odysseus, he is finally home! He has destroyed the insolent suitors and he is back!”

Penelope glared weakly: “Have you woken me up, just so you could mock me? Have you gone mad, that you tell me such cruel things? I know it in my heart, my Odysseus is gone and will never come back to me.”

“I'm not mocking you, dear, I promise! He has been here for days now: it was the stranger the suitors always offended! Telemakhos knew the entire time, but kept it to himself, until all of the suitors were defeated!”

Now the queen leapt from her bed and tearfully hugged the older woman.

“Tell me all!”, she pressed, “The truth and nothing but the truth! How is it possible, that he alone defeated so many?”

Of course Eurykleia hadn't seen any of it; she had been in the servants' quarters with the other maids. But she told her queen what she knew.

Penelope was still in doubt though: “I don't believe it. It's too good to be true! Surely it was a god, who smote them all for their disrespect.”

“No, no! Listen; he has the scar on his thigh – the one he received, when a boar attacked him, while he was hunting with the sons of Autolykos. It's really him, I promise! If what I say is untrue, you may have me executed!”

The queen – wary as she was – still refused to believe her, but followed her downstairs anyway. Though Eurykleia could see that (deep down), the younger woman was hoping, even though she refused to act on it.

When they came into the great hall, Penelope saw Odysseus leaning against a pillar, waiting for whatever she would say upon seeing her husband.

But Penelope seemed dazed, almost numb even.

Telemakhos was frustrated by this and chided his mother: “What's with you? Why aren't you sitting with your husband and questioning him? Did you wait twenty years for him to come home, only to see him and just stand there and not even say anything? Has your heart turned to stone?!”

“No, no, I'm just stunned”, Penelope clarified, “My heart is so paralysed, that I can't bring myself to question him or even look him in the eye. But if he's really my Odysseus, I will find out myself.”

Odysseus chuckled: “Give your mother some time to let it sink in. Let her test me to her heart's content. She doesn't recognise me, because I'm looking so dirty and messy right now. But my son, we have some urgent matters to discuss. Don't forget, that we just killed the entire nobility of my kingdom and have to deal with the consequences.”

“Well, it's said that no mortal man can rival your cunning”, Telemakhos replied, “So, do you have a plan? Whatever it is, we'll follow you.”

“Good. And I do have a plan: order everyone to decorate the place, put on their best clothes and celebrate loudly, so that anyone who passes by might think that a wedding is taking place here. This ought to buy us some time, because no one must learn of the earlier massacre, before we have been to my property in the country and prayed to the gods, that they might give us a sign on how to proceed from there.”

The household staff did so and indeed, everyone outside thought, that Penelope had now chosen to marry one of her suitors.

Later that evening, Eurykleia drew a bath for Odysseus, salved him with olive oil and gave him fresh clothes and it seemed a god had made him look taller and more splendid.³

When he was all freshened up, he returned to where he had sat before.

“Still not looking at your husband?”, he asked Penelope, “Have I endured twenty years of hardship, only to come home to a wife, who ignores me and holds me in low regard?”

Penelope didn't answer, which frustrated everyone.

“Well then”, the king huffed, “Eurykleia, make me a bed somewhere, since I'll sleep alone tonight, apparently.”

Now Penelope finally spoke again: “I don't hold you in low regard at all, strange man. Eurykleia, go and make his bed in front of the bedchamber that he himself crafted a long time ago.”

Now she was testing, the old nurse could tell.

“What?!”, Odysseus exclaimed suddenly, “What is it that I have to hear? Only a god would be able to relocate my bed at all! I crafted the bedchamber around the huge olive tree, that was growing in the yard back then, and carved the bed with its wood, adorning it with ivory, gold and silver! It's impossible that anyone relocated it, let alone could push it through the door!”

But only Odysseus could know this and that was the irrefutable proof.

Now she burst into tears, embraced her husband and showered him with kisses. Odysseus cried also and held his wife tightly.

All the while Eurykleia was sobbing in the background, because now everything would be fine.

.

Athena smiled onto the scene.

Having done that part of her work, she saw herself out and went to persuade Êôs to postpone her tour across the sky for a few hours.

Her mortal friend and his beloved wife should have enough time to our their hearts out to each other and to get a little rest before the trouble that was to come soon.

.

Hermes laughed at the souls of the suitors, when he came to guide them to the underworld.

“I don't know, what you expected!”, he cackled, “Odysseus is my great-grandson! Whatever made you believe, that you could take what was his without consequence? Or that you could disrespect the laws of gods and men and get away with it? How could you think that we wouldn't favour him? Well, either way you got what you deserved!”

The souls whispered among themselves; they probably would have grumbled, but the dead had faint voices.

The Messenger of the Gods lead them to the underworld, snickering all the while.

As they came to the underworld, Hermes found some of the heroes of the Trojan War skulking around.

He lead the newcomers to the dock of Kharon and the ferryman began to take the first of them down the river (apparently they had been granted the tiny mercy of getting a coin for Kharon).

.

When they had arrived on the other side, the Achaeans were chatting among each other.

“What happened to you?”, Akhilleus asked Agamemnon, “I always was under the impression that Zeus liked you? So how come you died a miserable death, rather than getting a burial fit for a king?”

“You're lucky, that you died a glorious death at Troy”, Agamemnon replied, sullen. “You got a splendid burial befitting a great hero like you were.”

Then he proceeded to tell Akhilleus all about it, which was rather boring for some (including Hermes, who chose to leave them behind to visit Hades and Persephone).

“Even in death you were honoured above all others!”, Agamemnon finished his account of the other's burial, only to start wallowing in self-pity.

“And me? What did I get for surviving the war?! Get this! I just got home from Troy, when I was murdered by my cousin Aigisthos and my slut of a wife!”

“Oh, that's so tragic!”, Akhilleus replied sarcastically.

Agamemnon ignored him and let his eyes wander over the newcomers, until he spied a familiar face.

“Hey! I know you! You're one of Menélaos' bastard sons! What happened to you?”

“Odysseus happened!”, Amphimedon groaned, “To all of us here!”

Then he proceeded to tell his uncle all about how they had wooed Penelope, how she had put them off for four years, tricking them and of how Odysseus had finally come home and killed them all.

“Damn!”, Agamemnon exclaimed, “Odysseus, you lucky man! You got one of the few good women in this world for your wife! The world will forever praise her loyalty! Unlike the daughters of Tyndareus and most other women, who are fucking disloyal whores-”

“Hey!”, Akhilleus barked, “Take your unmanly misogyny and shove it up your arse! No one cares about your unjustified grudge on your wife, whose innocent daughter you tried to sacrifice to the gods, who hate human sacrifice!”

.

Meanwhile Odysseus and Telemakhos had arrived at the home of Laertes, Odysseus' father.

“You and the servants go and prepare a boar for our meal”, Odysseus told his son, “I will see, if my father still recognises me.”

Then he went into the garden, where he found his old father tend to the plants.

Laertes looked so miserable and neglected, that Odysseus hid behind a pear tree and wept.

Once he had regained his composure, he approached the old man and addressed him: “Greetings, good man. You certainly are a talented gardener; none of the plants here look anything but splendid. I wish the same could be same for you. Please do not be angry, but you look awful. So, who are you and whose garden is this? Also, could you tell me, if it's really Ithaka I have come to? I have been marooned, so I'm not sure.”

Yes, he was about to weave more false identities.

“I met a man from Ithaka once and he boasted to be Odysseus, the son of Laertes. I hosted him, gave him many guest gifts and then he went on his way.”

Laertes looked up and responded: “This is indeed Ithaka, stranger. But Odysseus isn't here – instead bad and godless men are holding sway over this land. You poor man gave him presents in vain – if he was here and alive, he would gladly repay you in kind, as it's the custom. But he's gone, he'll never return …” He choked and cleared his throat. “But who are you and where do you come from? How much time has passed, since you welcomed Odysseus in your home?”

“My name is Eperitas, I come from Alybas”, the younger man lied, “And he came to my home five years ago. Oh, the poor man! And the omens seemed so promising, when he departed! He was so glad and eager to get home!”

Laertes broke into pitiful wailing, grabbed a fistful of ash and threw it onto his head.

Odysseus' heart broke and he hugged the other. “My dear father, it's me! Cry no longer, I'm not dead! I'm home! I have slain those who wooed my wife and ended their outrage!”

Laertes stared at the other. “What … is it really you?! Give me a sign, before I believe you!”

The younger man pulled up his chiton to reveal the scar on his thigh.

“Do you remember, when I grew to age and you sent me to my grandfather Autolykos and his sons, so that I might receive the gifts he had prepared for me? How I returned to you with the presents and this scar I got when I went hunting with my uncles and was attacked by a boar? And here another sign: when I was a child, you gave me many fruit trees: ten apple trees, thirteen pear trees, forty fig trees and hundred stocks of wine. And you promised me, that they all would carry heavy fruit and bring bountiful harvest. Do you believe me now?”

Laertes cried out in happiness and embraced his son tightly.

Then he fainted.

When he awoke, he found himself in his son's arms and cried some more, before taking a deep breath and calming himself.

“My dear and only son, I'm so happy! The justice of the gods still exists in this world, that you defeated all of the foes in your own home! But what shall we do now? You killed the entire noble population, the people will riot.”

“Don't worry about that yet”, Odysseus told him gently. “First let's go inside. We'll get you fresh clothes and a bath, also lunch will soon be ready.”

Inside the house Telemakhos and the two animal husbandmen were busy cutting the pork and mixing wine.

A maid drew a bath for Laertes and gave him good clothes.

When the former king came before his son and grandson, they marvelled.

“You look so much more gracious now”, Odysseus marked, “A god gave you splendour and made you taller, just like the Bright-eyed Goddess did for me!”

“Certainly”, the old man agreed, “But I wish they would have granted me the even bigger pleasure of being there yesterday to stand by you, when you fought off the suitors! You would have seen, that I still am capable of fighting!”

Odysseus almost chuckled at his father's zeal, but didn't want to seem condescending or doubtful.

When the two former heroes came into the dining halls, the servants ooh'd and aah'd, as they recognised their king.

“You can marvel later”, he told them, “It's time for lunch, as we're all hungry. Do sit with us! There is enough for all!”

Now the staff cheered and they all gave the long-lost ruler a warm welcome.

.

Unfortunately, while they were having lunch, Ossa, goddess of rumour, flew through the city and soon everyone had heard about the gruesome demise of the suitors.

Their relatives came to the palace to pick up the dead and bury them.

When they had done their work, Eupeithes, the father of Antinoos, rallied the people and riled them up.

“This man truly has done great wrong to us!”, he shouted, “Twenty years ago he took away many ships to Troy, only to return ten years too late and all alone. And now he has slaughtered all our children! Up, that we may avenge this misdeed done to our sons!”

But before the crowd could respond, Phemos the singer and Medon the herald, stepped forward.

“People of Ithaka! Odysseus did not act without the approval of the gods!”, Medon declared, “I myself saw a deity at the king's side and it was none other than the bright-eyed daughter of Zeus! She was wearing the guise of Mentor, but I saw her for who she was. She fought by his side, by instilling fear into the suitors and by giving him courage and strength. He had the favour of the gods and he was in the right. What happened was the will of Zeus.”

His words made the listeners shudder in fear.

Now another man rose to speak, Halitherses the prophet. “Hear me, men of Ithaka! It's because of your cowardice, that you are now burying your children! For you listened to neither me nor to Mentor, when we bid you to stop your sons' outrageous behaviour. You didn't stop them, when they committed blasphemous acts, harassed the wife of the best of men and wasted away his own property, believing he would never come home and make them face the consequences! So listen to my counsel for once in your lives: stay here, before a self-imposed doom meets you all!”

Half of the men screamed in protest at this suggestion, while the others heeded the prophet's words.

The crowd divided into two groups.

Eupeithes lead those who agreed with him into the country – thinking, that he would avenge his son, unaware, that he was on his way to meet his fate.

.

On Olympos Athena saw what was going on and went to her father to report.

“What is your plan, father?”, she wanted to know, “Will you cause more bloody conflict or shall there be peace?”

Zeus laughed: “My child, hasn't it been your plan all along, that your mortal friend should get home, take revenge on the suitors and reclaim his kingdom? Do as you please, but my will is this: now that Odysseus has avenged himself, let there be peace and companionship. Let the murder of their sons and brothers be forgotten. Let there be harmony among the people, companionship and bountiful harvest, as it was before.”

With gladdened heart Athena descended from Olympos to earth.

.

In the country estate, one of the servants looked out of the window, only to turn back to Odysseus, frowning.

“My king, I'm afraid we have company.”

He pointed to a nearby hill, where Eupeithes and his allies were already seen.

Quickly everyone leapt up from the table to don their armour and weapons.

As they were arming themselves, Athena joined them, again in the guise of Mentor.

Odysseus understood immediately and said to his son, grinning: “Now, my son, I will show you how it's done. You shall see how your father earned his glory in battle as well as in strategy.”

Telemakhos grinned back at him. “Father, you will see, that I'm not a coward and you won't be ashamed of my bravery in battle.”

“My son and my grandson competing in fighting prowess and bravery!”, Laertes rejoiced, “This is the best day of my life!”

“Mentor” smiled at the former hero and said: “Come, Laertes my old friend. You too should arm yourself and make a prayer to Zeus and the Bright-eyed Virgin.”

Then Athena breathed powerful valour into him.

With renewed strength and vigour, Laertes grabbed a spear and threw it right into the face of Eupeithes, where the helmet wasn't shielding it.

Meanwhile his son and grandson burst into the now leaderless ranks and slew their attackers left and right.

However before they could kill everyone, Athena decided, that playtime was over.

She appeared above the fray, that everyone froze in fear and/or reverence.

“Men of Ithaka!”, she announced with a thundering voice, “Cease the fighting and break apart, ere the earth is stained with your blood!”

After the parties had broken apart, Athena persuaded the quarrellers to make peace.

.

Thus ends the story of how Odysseus finally came home and regained his kingdom.

The stories of his deeds were passed on orally, from generation to generation.

Several centuries later, a blind poet dictated the glorious epics of the Iliad and the Odyssey to someone and they would be known for many more centuries to come.

Just like the name of the poet, who dictated them: Homer.

.

---

.

1) Only certain parts of a sacrificial animal would go to the gods: the fat and bones. The rest would be kept by the mortals. According to myth, Prometheus tricked Zeus into this. 2) Menélaos - just like Agamemnon - was the son of Atreus, who was a real nasty piece of work. So of course Menélaos would view Nestor, a far friendlier person, as more of a father figure. 3) In the Iliad Odysseus is described as not being very tall and looking relatively unimpressive at first glance.

[the-chomsky-hash]

3. [T]he criminal is not in himself one of these different regions to be isolated from others; in Homer the murderer is not as such the object of a special treatment. [E.g.:] - When Telemachos is praying ... , Theoklymenos, a murderer, appears. Telemachos receives him like any supplicant. - Lykophron serves in the household of Ajax without the murder he has committed giving him a special status - Theoklymenos had been forced to leave his town: but this was because his victim's relatives and friends were too many and too strong for him.

Michel Foucault, Lectures on the Will to Know (10 March 1971)

[minervarosewilliams]

Asteriod Astrology November 13th 2021

Nov13 Achilles 27 Aries 24

Nov13 Orpheus 29 Aries 59 Rx

Benedict MOON 28 Aries 55

<Achilles is a weak and vulnerable point, Orpheus tried to save his bride from the underworld. Benedict’s Moon is his feelings. In Aries it wants to be independent; square his Sun in Cancer which is quite nurturing and care taking, he’s often at war with himself about what he really wants.><Any way you slice it, this reads (at the moment) as a man who is worried about his ‘wife”>

Benedict’s Sappho 19 Aries 16 conjunct

Sophie’s Roachapproach 19 Aries 3 <This has always been the advent of gambles.>

opposition Sophie’s Spacewatch 18 Libra 51 Rx

Rebekka 18 Libra 58 Rx

SE 19 Libra 23

Nov13 House 19 Libra 22

<I imagine Spacewatch refers to the astrological commentary; Rebekka will forever be the Daphne du Maurier novel referenced by Hamish; and her pre-natal Solar eclipses where she has something to teach the world (positively),>

Nov13 Psyche 11 Virgo 45

Nov13 Aphidas 12 Virgo 35

Nov13 Orcus 14 Virgo 4

Nov13 Apophis 16 Virgo 51

Nov13 Eurydike 18 Virgo 58

Nov13 Ophelia 19 Virgo 48

<Aphidas – Centaur who’s name means ‘not spared’. Yet another Centaur killed at the wedding of Pirithouse, he joined in the drunken raping and killing that made the Centaurs such bad guests. While passed out, he was struck in the throat by a javelin. I would call that instant karma, or at the very least paying the consequences for one’s actions. Alcoholism, killed while defenseless.>.

<Orcus is a Dwarf Planet like Ceres and Pluto, named for the Etruscan god of the underworld ><Punisher of broken oaths.><Apophis is an Egyptian god who looks like a giant snake. He’s known as the god of evil, chaos, darkness and destruction. ><Eurydike was Orpheus’ wife, whom he tried to rescue from the Underworld.> <Ophelia, instead of being Hamlet's betrothed, committed suicide because he shamed her.>

THIS IS QUITE A RUN OF DARK ASTEROIDS!!!

SOPHIE Theoklymenos 9 Virgo 39 Rx

Bus 10 Virgo 48 Rx

Dulcinea 10 Virgo 59 R

Sappho 11 Virgo 27 Rx

Fleming 13 Virgo 47 Rx

Panacea 15 Virgo 47 Rx

Pyrrhus 16 Virgo 19 Rx

Arsinoe 17 Virgo 9 R

Donar 17 Virgo 14 Rx

Achilles 17 Virgo 40 Rx

Unitas 17 Virgo 55 Rx

Fiducia 18 Virgo 19 Rx

<A Seer who foresaw a death and was not believed. Dulcinea was the cheap barmaid prostitute don Quixote saw as a grand lady, Sappho wrote classical poetry about romantic lesbians. Fleming wrote James Bond (who did not respect and was unable to protect women… seeing a theme here yet?)><Panacea is a cure-all, a Pyrrhic victory is one that comes with the cost of losing everything, Arsinoe is Cleopatra’s sister, whom she murdered. Donar is Thor, Achilles again, united and finances.>

BENEDICT Oscarwilde 9 Virgo 25 <Wonderful writer, The Picture of Dorian Gray, famous gay man at a time it was illegal.>

Graves 10 Virgo

Daedalus 13 Virgo 28 <Built wings that were stolen by his son, who fell from the sky.>

Oenone 14 Virgo 11 <First wife of Trojan prince Paris. He dumped her when something better came along,>

Thetis 14 Virgo 18 <Mother of Achilles.>

Bacon 14 Virgo 19 <Romantic poet or delicious breakfast food. You decide.>

Roachapproach 15 Virgo 0 <gambles again.>

Cheshire Cat 15 Virgo 2 <Disappearing cat of unhelpful advice.>

Conscience 15 Virgo 13

Aeternitas 15 Virgo 24 <Eternity>

Whiteknight 19 Virgo 12

Lynch 19 Virgo 28

Geisha 19 Virgo 33 <Lynch the geisha.>

Sophie Sappho 11 Virgo 27 Rx opposition Nov13 Nessus 11 Pisces 58 Rx

>

Nov13 Sappho 28 Aquarius 21 opposition Nov13 Heracles 28 Leo 36

Nov13 Circe 28 Leo 44

<,Nessus gave Herakles’ wife a coat of poison to ‘gift’ him with. Not only does he rape her, he tricks her into murdering her husband.>

<Circe turned men into pigs or great cats,>

Nov13 Dejanira 15 Libra 14

Hygiea 14 Libra 38

Atropos 15 Libra 53

Narcissus 16 Libra 39

Benedict Zero 14 Libra 32

Truth 15 Libra 38

Sophie Astronomia 15 Libra 31 Rx

Pluto 15 Libra 31 Rx

Arthur 15 Libra 53

Sophie Dejaneira 25 Aquarius 26

Benedict Tempel 25 Aquarius 5 Rx

Porta Coeli 25 Aquarius 13 Rx

Lovers (Arabic) 25 Aquarius 33

Jonbach 25 Aquarius 56

<Everything that Benedict has at 25 Aquarius would rub her the wrong way.>

,Dejanira was Herakles’ wife. This is where you can be hurt and have no defense.>

,<Hygiea – goddess of health and cleanlines>

[katerinaaqu]

Gosh I am always so happy to inspire people! Check this sweet image out made by @that-greek-mythology-girl for this!

Thank you so much for your sweet gesture! 🫶✨️🫂❤️

And who else is listening to the soundtrack by iconic anime Shiki "Requiem" for this?! Because I surely am! 😭😭😭

The Death of Odysseus: The funeral

This is an old request done by @that-greek-mythology-girl when she asked me in an ask for an extra chapter for my 3 part fic about Odysseus dying and traveling to the underworld. So this is that extra chapter showing that specific story. Sorry I was so late! Set after, Part 1 , Part 2 and Part 3 (Although one can say they happen simoultaneously too! Your choice!)

The night was not particularly hot that day and yet Telemachus was sweating. It was a long night and celebrations were indeed lasting way longer than expected. It wasn’t that it wasn’t a good thing; it was just that the King of Ithaca felt rather uncomfortable staying in large crowds for too long. Surely he would pinpoint his natural shyness or natural introverted nature or even his experience for over five nightmarish years when he was constantly harassed and taunted by over a hundred men, some of them barely a few years older than himself, who wished to force his mother to new matrimony. Whatever the reason was, Telemachus preferred just to sit on his throne and enjoy his wine while observing rather than engaging too much into conversations. He even felt rather dizzy and he needed his moment of peace before he finally decided to retire to bed after a short walk in the gardens to clear his head. There was an intriguing sensation that wouldn’t leave him in peace. His wife; a real beauty with hair in the color of walnut and large brown eyes, was walking by his side, holding his arm as well, making sure he was alright.

“Now, now…” Nausicaa chuckled, “You do speak about your father but you too lost control tonight!”

Telemachus smiled shyly.

“I know, Nausicaa…I am sorry for that. I guess I got carried away!”

Entering their temporary chambers made him sigh in relief in his little sanctuary. He removed the circlet of gold from his head with a sigh of contentment, placing it aside.

“Perseptolis is…”

“He is fine, Telemachus” Nausicaa said, assisting her husband out of his mantle and some of his jewelry, “He went to bed hours ago”

“Ah…good…” Telemachus mumbled absentmindedly

“It is good that Theoklymenos is taking good care of him as his tutor. He knows a lot”

“He was godsend, that’s for sure!” her husband replied, “If it weren’t of him I would be dead now… He just needed a second chance in life and he hasn’t disappointed ever since…even if he is old now…”

“That’s you, my darling…” Nausicaa smiled removing her own rich garments and jewelry, letting her long hair cascade down her back over her light, cotton dress, “You always see the best in people… You are always kind…a bit naïve at times but…”

“Hmm…”

Nausicaa looked over from the cloth she used to remove her makeup. It was obvious her husband hadn’t heard a word. His eyes were stuck to nothingness in deep thought. For a moment he reminded her of him…his father. His eyes would also glue themselves to nothingness, appearing like out of the world. It was just his eyes were black as coal while Telemachus had the gentle blue eyes of his mother.

“Seriously, Telemachus, what’s wrong?” now his wife seemed worried, “You seemed weird all night ever since your father retired to bed. Care to share with me what’s going on?”

Telemachus eyed her and his blue eyes shone apprehensively. His wife was a very clever and bright young woman. He couldn’t believe his ears and eyes when his father came back from his redemption trip and had this treasure with him on the ship and announced him that he had found him a bride. For Telemachus it was almost love at first sight. He never expected that to happen to him but it had. Nausicaa was incredible wife and even better queen, bringing knowledge and treasures from her own homeland. A few years later she brought to this world their son, Perseptolis and only then Telemachus could really comprehend what his father must have felt for him and his mother. Nausicaa and Perseptolis were his entire world; two stars in a nightly sky. Telemachus could entrust literally anything to his wife and his wife was always there for him. Despite the sudden news, Telemachus was now grateful to his father for casually bringing a wife to him. In one way Telemachus who was raised protected almost like a child till the day he was 20 suddenly felt like growing as a person. How strange, he thought thinking back, I didn’t consider myself as much of a man when I killed those dreadful men but when I got married; when I have gotten someone to love and protect…someone I felt completed me! He wasn’t so sure he would be as good king as he was now if he hadn’t Nausicaa by his side! There were moments, though, where he felt there was a shadow between them even after all these years. Telemachus couldn’t or didn’t want to put his finger on it. Much less now. He sighed and ran his hand through his long, thick, curly hair.

“Nothing in particular…it is just…” he tried to put his thoughts in order, “When we spoke…father was… He seemed very strange to me…sad and yet happy at the same time…hard to explain but…”

He nervously played with the end of his beard.

“It almost felt like he was trying to… If you heard what he told me he…” he softly bit the corner of his fingernail; a habit he had developed ever since he was a child

Nausicaa sighed and playfully slapped his hand down.

“He is a grown man, Telemachus” she said, slowly opening her husband’s shirt to help him remove his clothes for bed, “I am sure he knows how to take care of himself!”

“I know!” Telemachus retaliated, “Is not that is just… I just don’t like this feeling that’s all.”

“Is this the reason why you were a bit gloom drinking tonight?”

Telemachus thought for a second and then nodded.

“Perhaps…I am not sure”

“I am sure is just you over thinking again, my dear…” Nausicaa said airily, “That’s what you do. You always worry too much and over think”

“Do I?”

“You do. It is who you are. You always think too much, you care too much. It is part of your charm.”

Telemachus sighed a bit as his wife helped him out of his shirt and sandals. She often did that; attending to him herself, the same much as he attended to his father. It felt more familiar; more intimate that way.

“You always take care of me, Nausicaa…” he whispered

Nausicaa’s answer was a soft chuckle and a kiss to his cheek.

“I am your wife” she said emphatically, “I’m supposed to…”

Telemachus had no answer to that. He smiled softly and finished the rest of his toilette before bed. He made a praying gesture with his hand for protection.

“Where are you going?” Nausicaa asked seeing him walking to the door

“To father” Telemachus admitted, “Wanted to check on him”

“Leave him be, my dear” Nausicaa held on him, “He’s asleep. Don’t disturb him now”

“But…”

“Please, Telemachus, come to bed. You need to rest now otherwise you won’t have a fresh mind tomorrow”

Telemachus sighed. Truth to be told, he was kind of tipsy and he needed to have a clear head the next day; not to mention how his father said he would sleep. And yet that feeling tickling his gut wouldn’t leave him in peace. He absentmindedly caressed her arm in deep thought. Nausicaa kissed his hand tenderly.

“Enough with the gloom thoughts. It is too late, I am tired and I cannot rest properly without you by my side, you know it! Come to bed with me”

Telemachus smirked.

“Are you seriously trying to seduce me to obtain healthy sleeping habits?”

“Is it working?”

Direct. Clear. Honest. That was probably the thing he drew him to her the most. He smirked again, reminding for a little while he was his father’s son.

“Yes”

*

He had no idea what made him wake up but when he did the sun was softly caressing his face directly. He felt the familiar yet pleasant weight of his wife’s head on his chest but that was not the weight he was concerned on with right now. The same feeling of uneasiness he had felt the night prior was still there. It wasn’t the light dizziness he had from drinking the night before that was causing it. It was something profound that wouldn’t leave him in peace. He tried to move without waking her but he should have known by now. She was a light sleeper.

“Hmm…Telemachus…?” she whispered, “What’s wrong? It’s too early”

“Go back to sleep, my love…” Telemachus smiled, putting a robe over his body, “It’s early. I just…I need to check on him before I move to the hall…”

“Hmm…Okay…” Nausicaa stretched herself, “I will follow you later. Shall I order for your bath to be prepared?”

“Oh, yes, please” the King of Ithaca smiled, “I will need it to clear my head a bit”

Fixing a bit his messy hair and beard with his fingers, Telemachus marched across the hall. He didn’t spot Odysseus. Usually his father would wake before the crack of dawn (habit he picked from his years at war along with his old age) and he would rouse the servants to start the day. Then he had the habit of going to Perseptolis and wake him up for his lessons before walking out to the gardens. This alone had him worried. Had his father more to drink than they thought that he needed to stay in bed longer? He moved to the olive tree chamber.

“Father” he called from the door, “Are you awake yet?”

He got no response. That was strange. His father was not a light sleeper and he certainly wasn’t THAT drunk the night before so that he would be in a deep sleep. He walked in without thinking much.

“Father, come on, the day has begun time to…”

His voice froze. Odysseus was indeed in bed, covered with his favorite blanket. One of his arms was outside of it, as if he had reached for something before. He was unmoving, circled by fallen leaves and olive flowers. His face looked pale and his lips were smiling. He looked like sleeping indeed; a peaceful sleep and yet he was unmoving. Cold. Frozen.

“F-Father…?”

Telemachus cared to touch the wrinkled cheek of his father. It was cold to the touch.

“No…” he whispered tears burning his eyes

He felt his chest twitch by sobs. Suddenly he was a child again, crying tears plenty and salty like the sea. He sat on the edge of the olive bed, slowly lifting that old body in his arms, placing his lips upon his forehead and the top of his head. He let more tears flow upon that cold, lifeless body. More burning sensation down his throat as his fears had been confirmed.

“Liar…!” he whispered between his sobbing, “L-Liar…! The last thing you said to me…was a lie…! F-Father…! Gods…”

Why was he crying so much? His father was old. He had reached his 80th year of life. None of the kings he knew ever lived that long. Not even his grandfather Icarius who was alive when he was 20. And yet Telemachus knew…he had lost the last family he had. Right now he truly was alone.

“Gods…!” he whispered sobbing, “H-Hermes…Argophontes…p-please take care of his soul…P-Persephone…accept my father down to your embrace…!”

His father was dead. He would never hear his voice again; his laughter, his advice, his stories from war and his trips… He was orphaned now. He thought he was 20 years prior and yet now that he lived with his father for so long and bonded with him his loss was much more painful than he would ever think of, even if he was prepared theoretically for his passing. Nausicaa barged into the room with some of her handmaidens.

“Telemachus what takes you… Oh…”

She saw her husband, holding his father and crying as if he were a baby that had lost his favorite puppy; not able to part with it upon the face of death. She didn’t need her intelligence to know. Odysseus, the son of Laërtes had finally met his inevitable death.

“Cry for your king…” Telemachus whispered, acknowledging their presence in the room, “Come, women! Mourn! Mourn and cry, paint your faces with tears and ash. The King of Cephallinians is dead!”

The slaves released a wail of sorrow and released their hairs from their headpieces, pulling them with both their hands, tearing their clothes and cheeks and beating their chests and knees with their hands. The sorrow was presented so typically and yet Telemachus wanted to believe they weren’t pretending. Odysseus was beloved to his household. He wanted to believe they truly cried with him. He saw Nausicaa, his wife, trying to hold her composure, for him, for their position. But her eyes were tearful. She approached him, placing her soft hand on his large shoulder.

“Go…” she murmured to him, “Go…you must cleanse yourself from the miasma of death and announce it to the world…that he passed to the realm of the One of Many Names. Leave the mourning and funeral to us…it is our job”

Telemachus’s answer was a moan of pain. He didn’t want to let him go. Not yet. He was barely sobbing; barely audible and yet Nausicaa could hear him clearly over the mourning of the women who wailed and cried for their dead king.

“Go, my love…” she repeated, “You must do your duty…”

For a moment her thoughts ran to her own father; how would she feel if she were this close as Telemachus was to his own? She lifted the thoughts away. She had to stand by her husband for this. She owed him this much. Telemachus slowly and reluctantly placed his father back to his pillows. He began walking away, being patted on the back by his wife for consolation.

“Oh…h-his blanket…we must let him keep…his blanket…” he mumbled

“He will” Nausicaa assured him, “Go, please!”

She then turned to the maids still mourning.

“Go, fetch water from the sea and oils and ointments! We must prepare the king for his final destination! And bring sage and sulphous to cleanse this place from the miasma of death. Go! All of you!”

And she was left alone. Only then she let her tears flow down her cheeks as she approached the death bed and leaned over the dead king.

“So…you finally decided it was time to leave…” she whispered, “You left…again… Like you did to me the first time…touched our hearts and minds…and left…”

Her hand hovered for a second. She hesitated, possibly her natural aversion towards death; perhaps the feelings she had once hosted in her heart she had kept to herself in her youth kind of reminded her of the man she saved at her land so many years ago. Eventually she touched his white, curly locks and cold cheek, lovingly; soothing the details.

“And…” she suppressed a sob, “You were right…I truly weren’t the one for you… If you had let me love you more than what I already did then… now this moment would seem unbearable to me. You were right. Of course you were. Our difference in age was indeed that great… And you brought me a husband, someone that I loved with all my heart…who gave me love in return…who gave me my beautiful boy, whom you named…and helped us raise…”

She stopped to mop some tears from her cheeks.

“I will take care of him…” she promised, “Your precious Telemachus…and your grandson…I will do my best to make them happy… I promise you with all my heart…”

She leaned down and placed her lips upon that cold forehead, releasing her tears once more.

“Goodbye for now…my first love…” she finally whispered

*

The day seemed gray and cloudy for everyone that day. The palace was set for deep mourning as everyone was crying for the king that passed away. Women wore their black and dark gray dresses and men did the same. The palace smelt of incense and sage that was sending away the miasma of death and flowers were arranged as well as the personal belongings of the king that he would have with him in the tomb. The King and the Queen were doing their best to keep the ceremony according to the greatness the name of Odysseus bore to the island and to the rest of the kingdom. Nausicaa was worried about Telemachus. He always was a quiet and reserved person but after he received the news and discovered the body of his father he hardly spoke a word to anyone apart from the typical words to the servants that organized the funeral and to prepare everything for the funerary rites and games for the glory of his father’s passing. There was a shadow all over his features and Nausicaa didn’t like that. Not that she was afraid that Telemachus would despair; he was far too strong for that, but he was also sensitive and he was very close to his father plus it wasn’t the death itself that made him so. There seemed to be a million questions in his eyes and Nausicaa was afraid of them. They seemed to be questions he had reserved for years. These were her thoughts as she walked into their room already dressed for the funeral.

“Telemachus…everyone is ready…”

She stopped in her tracks before what she saw. Telemachus was sitting on a chair, already dressed in gray and black and had a razor in his hand…several small strands of hair to the floor. Half of his long till shoulders hair was already cut. She eyed him and he eyed her. Somehow words didn’t seem needed.

“Can you help me…?” Telemachus asked almost immediately, “I can’t do this on my own…”

She smiled sadly.

“Give me the razor…” she said

With soft yet capable fingers she slowly combed his long hair and half-braided it in one braid, trying to get a better view on the shape of them and then began to cut, one by one the rope-like curls of her husband’s.

“You’re very good at this…” Telemachus whispered

Nausicaa smiled sadly.

“I helped several of my slave girls cut their hair before….” She said as a matter of fact

“Ah…that explains it…”

His voice was low, almost nonchalant.

“Everyone is almost here” Nausicaa spoke again, “The funeral will be exactly as you want it, my love…”

She felt his wide shoulders tense; as if they suddenly were weighted down by something.

“You loved him, didn’t you?”

The question hovered in the air like a terrible accusation. His voice was hoarse from sorrow and crying but it also hid plenty of frustration; anger even…plenty of unasked “why”s and “how”s in his manner. The sudden, direct question after almost two decades of marriage left her shocked.

“What…?”

“Please!” Telemachus suddenly exploded, “No more lies! I had enough of lies!”

His voice was almost trembling. He seemed ready to cry again.

“Don’t you think I didn’t notice? How you looked at him? My father! You loved him, don’t deny it!”

“Telemachus…I…”

“Nausicaa!” suddenly Telemachus looked at her and his eyes were piercing his soul, “Did you love me because I look like my father?”

The razor remained in her hands but his words cut much deeper than any blade would have. Such a direct and painful question! Was this what he was holding in his heart all these years?

“Telemachus…” she whispered, “Why do you hurt me this much? How could you say this to me!”

“Answer me!” Telemachus urged, “Did you love me because I look like him?”

“That’s not what happened, Telemachus!”

She sighed trying to collect her thoughts. She feared this day would come but she had prayed with all her heart it never would.

“I loved your father…” she finally whispered, “From the first time I saw him that day when he showed up before me; shipwrecked, ragged and naked; hit by the sea and fate… I loved him, yes, my father wanted him to marry me. I wouldn’t have said no. But your father didn’t love me, not like that. He wanted to come here, back to his wife…to you. Then one day, years later he came back to our island. He had the proposal for me I would come here. He looked at me in the eyes and said Nausicaa I never forgot my promise to you; for you gave me life and you deserve to be paid back for the good that you did to me. I cannot be your husband but I have found you a husband more suitable…a better man than what I ever wished to be. Come with me if you shall meet him and I bring to you the wedding gifts needed for your noble father…”

She sighed once, lost in her own recollections.

“That’s how he spoke and his words were soft like snowflakes at a first snowfall at the end of autumn. His rejection hurt me. But I trusted him and he took me with him and brought me here…to meet you…”

Her fingers hesitatingly started their work again, cutting her husband’s hair short.

“It is true that you drew my attention because you looked like your father; the man that inspired love in my heart for the first time in my life as a young, inexperienced woman that I was…However, Telemachus…” she brought her hand to her mouth to stop a moan from rising, she had to be strong, “I didn’t love you for that. I loved you because you are different from your father”

He looked at her. His blue eyes almost liquid; like a trapped animal waiting its doom.

“What?”

“You are not your father, Telemachus, your father was right. You are a far better man; kinder, softer, considerate of others… Yes, you do not have his renounced name or cunning but you have your wisdom, your heart…your ability to see good in people… I was drawn to you because you looked like your father…the reason I loved you, the reason I was so happy that I bore your child and rule this kingdom by your side is because you are totally different…”

She held his face in her hands.

“You are you, Telemachus…” she said emphatically, “Never doubt this, for Odysseus never did…”

And then she saw Telemachus come undone. Tears flowed out of his eyes; tears of relief and thankfulness. It was as if the thing he held inside him all these years stopped bothering him anymore; one less pain for him to feel now. He kissed his wife’s hand and palm and Nausicaa felt his lips burning. It was his way to apologize for his fears and doubts. For one more time words were not needed between them. The past that haunted them was there no more.

“There…” Nausicaa said, “I am done…”

Telemachus looked at his now shorter curls to the bronze spectrum. He touched his head with his hand.

“Thank you, you did very good job…”

“Looks good on you…” Nausicaa noted, running her fingers through it

“I seriously hope so…” Telemachus said, “For this shall be my haircut from now on”

His wife looked at him questionably.

“This world lost the last great man of the first of Troy…” Telemachus whispered, “I finally lost my father whom I thought dead for 20 years and I lived with for other 20… I shall mourn for him for 20 more to come…till my last breath…”

Nausicaa teared up but she smiled.

“If that’s what you wish, husband, I have nothing more to say…”

Telemachus stood up and placed the golden circlet around his head.

“Let’s go…” he said, “Our guests are here…it is time for the funeral…”

*

The King of Cephallinians was set upon his deathbed, dressed in his finest clothes and armor, like the warrior he was all his life. His head was adorned by a red-plumed helmet adorned with boar tusks. His sigil ring with the dolphin was on his finger. His bronze sword by his side and the golden mask covering his face. The obolus was already placed between his teeth for the boatman to let him pass; the locks of hair of his loved ones under his hands. Odysseus shone, just like radiant people of his land perceived him during the war of Troy… The body was lying upon the shroud made by Nausicaa and the precious blanket made by Penelope. Odysseus was seen off by his wife and daughter; the daughter that had given him his precious grandchild. The procession was moving slow, with the bed being lifted by the most faithful servants he had (two of them were the sons of Philoetius and two the sons of Eumeus with the wives Odysseus himself had picked for them). The women were mourning and chanting as the priest and prophets were singing their hymns to Persephone and the rebirth of the underworld. Behind them came the royal family. Telemachus walked steadfast and proud; his tall and well-built physique and he looked even paler as his already pale skin was toned up by the black on his clothes and the thick black beard. Nausicaa was also dressed in gray and had her cheeks scratched according to custom, shedding silent tears when she could. Their son, Perseptolis following with his tutor, Theoklymenos (the man Telemachus once saved). He seemed sad and confused. His grandfather would no longer play with him or show him things or teach him or promise him the trees that were for him after he would be gone… Now he really was gone and Perseptolis didn’t know how to take it. He only knew he had to be strong for his father who seemed to suffer the most.

Telemachus looked at the side as they moved upon the high rocks. He thought he saw a little girl sitting by the rock, one leg hanging from the edge and the other drawn to her chest. Her short, blondish hair was curly like his and her physique small and frail. She only had one black dress on her that reached till her skinny knees. And yet Telemachus could have sworn the girl was looking at him. He could see her shiny her gray eyes despite the distance. Her eyes seemed almost tearful and yet they were not. Telemachus felt the power in his veins emitted from that presence. His eyes watered and then he shed a tear. It was as if he shed the tear the girl couldn’t physically shed. He bowed his head at her as if by instinct. He averted his eyes for one second and the next the girl was gone as if she was never there. They reached the tomb and the slaves opened it. Telemachus felt his heart clench. He had opened that monument before when he buried his mother. And now his father had come to join her. He watched the slaves place the funeral bed inside, according to his instructions; leave it by the side of Penelope. He felt a squeeze in his hand from his wife. He squeezed it back. The prayers and cries became louder as the rock shielded the monument anew. Telemachus closed his eyes to fight back the tears.

It was done…

His father was to his final home…

*

The funerary banquet had everything their hearts could desire. Telemachus was more than generous as the meat of the sacrifice was also well-cooked and served. He had also ordered the best pig and the fattest goats to be slaughtered and cooked. There was also fish and vegetables and a variety of legumes to feed the guests. He had also picked the best wine from the kingdom and Scheria to offer to his guests.

Odysseus was a good host. He was entertaining for one last time.

Telemachus knew the dead man was the host and they were all eating and drinking to his name. He wanted to offer him the good passing; make sure he knew they would remember him; that they would be happy in his name and continue their life. And then the funerary matches happened. There was a running and a discus throw race with rich gifts given to the three contestants to win. Then there was a wrestling match and a sword fight. Telemachus watched and never intervened. He congratulated the winners and awarded them, he also thanked those who lost and praised them for their talents and efforts. The celebrations were about to finish when Telemachus stood up. Everyone fell silent. Telemachus removed a key hanging from his neck and passed it to his wife.

“My wife…” he said, “Take this key and please go down to the armory. Fetch me my father’s old bow. Tell the servants to bring the hollow axes!”

The sound of surprise passed like aura over the waves of the sea. The request was so sudden; so unexpected. And yet no one felt like refusing.

“Are you sure?” Nausicaa asked

Telemachus stood proud; steadfast. Certain.

“I am.”

And the Queen of Ithaca smiled. She took the key and moved to the old armory and unlocked it. On the wall there was the infamous heavy bow of which she had heard so many stories of. She took it in her hands, as if she lifted the sacred clothes to dress the statue of a god and carried it out. Telemachus took it in his strong hand. He hesitated. What if he wasn’t worthy of it? What if he became ridiculed by the entire kingdom for his request to use it? He shook his head and grasped the bow with both hands. He warmed the fat to the flame and smeared the wood; making sure it would be soft so it wouldn’t be cracked and then he pulled. The wood creaked and moaned; Telemachus felt sweat peaking to his forehead and yet the bow barely moved a bit. Telemachus felt his body tensing. No! He couldn’t give up!

“Why! Why can’t I…? Oh, gods…forgive me, father…maybe I am not worthy of your legacy after all…”

“Telemachus…”

It was a voice; an ethereal and heavenly female voice that echoed deep inside him. He looked to the side. The magnificent woman wearing the radiant bronze and gold armor; with the gorgoneion adorning her chest over her green aegis; the double-plumed helmet shining gold and a spear in hand. Her skin was clear and pore-less, iridescent even; often white as ivory often gaining a light color as the sun moved on it.

“Athena!”

Pallas Athena stood there, smiling softly; invisible and unheard to everyone else but him. Her hand touched his shoulder. Telemachus nearly felt a fire in his chest.

“Don’t forget, Telemachus… Your father was a strong man but his real strength was not his arms or legs or the power of his body. Think, Telemachus…and you shall have your answer…”

And then Telemachus knew. Somehow he felt like an idiot for not thinking of it sooner! He set the bow on the ground and passed his strong leg through it and then he bended the bow using his body as a lever. The gasps he heard and the smile of the patron goddess of his father, no, his family, gave him strength anew as the bow bended slowly yet steadily. Telemachus grabbed the string and passed it through and then he knew… He had managed to solve his father’s puzzle. It never was about strength. Not entirely. The answer was there all along. He tested the string. It played the tune of a well-tuned lyre, ready to sing anew after so long.

“Bring the axes…” he ordered

“Shall we use all 12, master?” the servant asked (He was Autologos, the son of Philoetius).

“No” Telemachus said, “Bring more”

“M-More, master?” the man almost chocked, “H-How many?”

“Twenty” Telemachus answered with a confidence he never felt before. “Twenty years I lost my father…twenty years I had him. Twenty shall be the axes of my test”

Once more his words were heard. His mind ran back to his youth where the blasted suitors would ignore his pleas or orders. Now his voice was heard; his orders were followed. Right now he knew he was a changed man. He had grown over the years. He watched the axes set in equal distances and then grabbed the bow. His strong arms and back worked to pull the string. He aimed. He stood there for a few seconds. His limbs had gained strength anew; something he felt flattering in his heart. It was like a primitive fire inside him; the spirit of his father; the spirit of his goddess! He released a breath, like the breath of a soul leaving the body and then the arrow was released.

The bow sang once more like a swallow

The arrow whistled in the air

Passed through the axes.

It got stuck to the tree behind them.

Telemachus slowly, almost in a ritual manner, lowered the bow. He drew a deep breath; the flowers of the mountain, the salt of the sea, the smell of the animals and crops. He smelt Ithaca. Yes, he knew now more than ever this place gave strength. He understood now. And now it was totally his to keep and protect. And he would protect it to his last breath! His eyes were no longer tearful. His heart was light.

Have a good rest… My King…Odysseus…Man of Many Wiles…Man Much Tormented… Sacker of Cities…King of Ithaca…King of Cephallinians…

Goodbye…

Father…

***

So this request is finally done... Unfortunately the reason I was so inspired to finish it was because today I lost one good conversation partner here on Tumblr for they deleated their account. They couldn't stand the toxicity of some people attacking them They were one of the few people getting out of their way to read my stories and ACTUALLY leave lengthy and meaningful comments under them for discussion and that meant so much to me. Now unfortunately their comments are gone and their account deactivated and couldn't even say a proper goodbye to them deleating their account for they were THAT eager to get out of this... I hope I shall see them in the future but still all the amazing comments and conversations we had no longer will be there... So yes inspiration for this request.

I combined funerary customs of Bronze Age times such as the tombs that were opened and re-opened to put new individuals in as much as we theorize but also the prothesis and funerary meals and games that we see in Homer and in later archaic and classical Greece.

And as you see here we have also the choice of Nausicaa as the mother of Perseptolis (an idea discussed with @ditoob too among others along with them expressing the need to see more stuff on mature Telemachus out there)

Some Nausicaa and Telemachus drama too.

Special thanks to @cr4zy-cycl0n3 for their comment to the second part of the main story and @styberusartz to the first one. And as always @loco-bird account!

Working also on ideas with @artsofmetamoor as always!