gwenchan

Fandom: The Iliad, Greek Mythology and Lore

Characters: Peleus, Achilles, Thetis

Prompt: Storia in 3 scene.

Tags: Pre-canon, Missing moments, Family fluff, Parenting

Peleus was pretty sure the baby sitting in his lap hadn't been so big that morning. He was almost tempted to call the nurse to warn her she had given him the wrong baby. Except that the shade of blond of the baby's curls and the shape of his little face were unmistakable. Besides, he could still recognize his own son.
Truth was, Achilles was growing up at an astounding speed. Just yesterday, he was so tiny Peleus could almost hold him in one hand and now he seemed to become a bit bigger each time Peleus just as much as blinked.

He had gotten heavier as well and quite so.

"Must be your mother's milk. Nereid milk. Must be nutritious, right?" Peleus considered out loud, bouncing Achilles on his knees in the throne room as he absentmindedly tickled him on the chin, below his cute little

Opening his tiny, pink lips his son latched onto his finger, sucking idly. A tender laughter blossomed in Peleus' chest. He remembered when Polydora would do that as well, his beautiful daughter that soon would become a woman.

"Should I get you a pacifier?"

Achilles looked at him with his giant, toddler eyes, serious as if Peleus had just asked him advice in matters of war.

"A pacifier, my love,” Peleus repeated, just as serious, “would you ... ouch!"

He yelped as a quick and sharp pain cut through the skin. Frowning, he jerked his finger away, quickly lifting it to eye level to examine it. A tiny drop of blood rolled down the side from the clear sign of a puncture.

No, he corrected himself taking a better look, not a puncture. A bite.

Thinking about it, Achilles was indeed in the age babies begin teething. The wet nurse must have mentioned something, between the lamentations of how fussy he was when it comes to eating. It had taken weeks for him to start accepting milk that wasn’t his mother’s.

"Open up a second, poppet."

Blabbing, a little wrinkle above his nose, Achilles obliged. As expected, nestled in the pink valleys of his gums like a pearl in an oyster, there it was. A tooth, minuscule, not bigger than Peleus pinky fingernail and slightly jagged.

"And this?"

Careful, he pressed the pad of his thumb against the surface, the sensation not so different than testing the edge of a blade.

When he retreated it, the skin was broken and it burnt.

“I understand,” Peleus sighed a half-laugh. Sharp baby teeth. Probably it came with the package of having a son with divine blood in his veins. Too bad they didn’t come with an instruction manual as well and the only person who could have given him advice had left two months ago.

“Guess it’s time to pay another visit to your mother.”

Talking about Thetis, while Achilles decided to try his new tooth onto Peleus’ sleeve, he tried to remember if his spouse had shared that peculiar trait as well. As for now he couldn’t quite say for sure.

***

Low on the horizon the afternoon sun shimmered on the sea surface. It rippled with gentle waves washing up on the shores. Adjusting Achilles against his hip, Peleus squinted, a hand to shield his eyes, as a black head emerged from the waters. In his arms, Achilles stirred, face lighting up in recognizing his mother. Kicking, he stretched his little hands. They grabbed onto Thetis’ peplum as soon as the nymph picked him up.

"You've got big, my son," she said, lips curling into a tender smile. Kissing the baby's golden curls, she bounced him a couple times. Bittersweet affection lit up her face, but it was only for her son. All softness disappeared as soon as she turned to her husband. She still hadn't forgiven him from condemning Achilles to a mortal life.

"Such an unexpected visit. What for? "

A wary suspicion edged her question and Peleus knew she must be thinking to that time he had summoned her in the middle of the night, dark bags under his eyes, and Achilles’ cries filling his ears. No woman or man in the palace had been able to calm him down and when the baby had started to have trouble breathing, Peleus had resolved to call his divine spouse. “What’s this?”

Gently, Peleus pulled open his son’s mouth to expose the tiny, white problem. Thetis looked at him like she couldn’t believe his stupidity; cursing against Fates and the gods for having destined her to him of all mortal men.

“A tooth. Seems pretty obvious."

Peleus resisted the urge to roll his eyes. He’d rather have his wife in a good mood, he wasn’t down for another fight; not with Achilles present, his chubby hands buried in his mother’s thick raven locks

“I can see it. But why is it sharp?”

Thetis shrugged, dark eyebrows knitting together as Achilles pulled a little too hard.

“Nereid teeth are, sometimes. It helps when we go hunting. I thought you remembered”

“I wasn’t sure.”

Sheepishly, he glanced away, reminiscing of their first night and the signs the nymph had left on his skin in the height of passion.

“Still, yours aren’t that sharp.”

“Males’ are sharp - oh.”

While his parents discussed him, Achilles had clearly more urgent matters, his mouth pressed against Thetis' breast through the fabric. She moved it aside.

"What do I do?"

Glancing down at her son sucking fervently on her breast, Thetis let out another long, exasperated sigh. The one that made Peleus sure she didn't consider him very suitable to raise their child.

"Warn the servants, be - "

She trailed off, face twisting in a grimace. "Find him something to chew on."

"Did he bite you?" Peleus urged, hands already stretching out to take the toddler away from his spouse. She pulled back.

"I'm fine. It's nothing."

Sated and satisfied, Achilles snuggled closer to her bosom.

"You need to pat his back a little," Peleus reminded Thetis. For being a caring mother, as much as she could, she still struggled to get a grasp of how human babies worked.

Or, well, half-human.

“Anything else I should know?" He tried to put a little hilarity in his question, tried to make it sound a little less like an exasperated accusation. If she noticed, Thetis didn't show.

"What do you want me to say? Each child born from a mortal and a god is different. But if you expect him to be like all other women’s offspring, then you'd better leave him here."

Peleus would lie saying he hadn’t caressed the idea, more than once, but each time something stopped him. Truth was he didn’t want to separate from his son, not yet.

"I know.”

He had known since the moment Achilels was born that he was no normal kid. He’d be a warrior, unstoppable, stronger and faster than his peers. Thetis claimed to have made him almost invulnerable to physical harm. Still, Peleus was going to order the palace child-proofed as soon as Achilles began to walk. Something in the way his son kicked and sometimes pointed his feet told him it wouldn’t take much longer.

“You should go,” Thetis said, “it’s getting dark.”

As to confirm her words the vesper star had appeared on the horizon. Safe in his mother’s hold, Achilles had fallen asleep, so peacefully Peleus didn’t have the heart to separate them, not yet.

“I think we can stay a little longer.”

Cautiously he sat on the limit of the waves licking the sand. He looked up at Thetis, a silent offering in the drawings traced on the shore. Without words, the nymph complied. Her skin was cold against Peleus, a nostalgic feeling.

“You know,” he began, “you could come back to the palace. At least for a while.”

Thetis’ eyes were fixed on the sea. “You know I can’t. It’s not my place.”

It wasn’t only that he had stopped her from turning Achilles into an immortal god. Yes, she had run away that night, furious, but it wasn’t yet a fracture so critical that they couldn’t repair it.

It was that gods didn’t thrive long among mortals. At least Phthia was still close enough to the shore to allow for quite frequent visits if needed.

Head dangling on Thetis’ shoulder, Achilles fussed a little, hands opening and closing around the air. The clear signs of a nightmare in the bud that Peleus had learnt to recognize so well in the latest months.

“I think it’s better if - here, let me.”

Carefully so as not to wake the baby up, he scooped up in his arms and against his chest. Achilles kicked, displeasure for the change of parent painted all over his scrunched face.

“Hush, my love,” Peleus said in a low murmuration, “it’s alright. Your dad is here, it’s alright."

Quickly, Achilles' face smoothed. And Peleus didn't miss the quick glimpse of approval and recognition in Thetis' eyes.

They sat on the beach almost till sunset.

***

A thick silence enveloped the royal palace at night. The doors creaked when Peleus cracked a sliver, slowly turning the knob.

"Who's there?" a female voice came from the inside lit by a low brazier. In the penumbra the nurse jumped to her feet. She dropped into a deep bow as soon as she caught his profile on the threshold.

"Your majesty. What may you need?"

Her voice was a low whisper and the reason became soon clear as she pointed to the crib gently rocking.

"I just came to check. I didn't mean to wake or scare you. Now, leave us for a moment."

"I wasn't sleeping, sir," the nurse replied, a finger pressed to her lips. "Of course, I'll leave you. Please, be quiet. He has just fallen asleep."

"I'm sorry for the trouble."

Despite all the precautions taken, Achilles had woken half way during the trip back to the palace and didn't take well the sudden absence of his mother, looking frantically left and right as his mouth opened onto the first indignant sobs.

Peleus had bounced him against his chest, murmuring the lullaby Thetis had taught him, the melody of the deep seas.

Achilles had stopped crying only to begin again when Peleus had passed him in the hands of the nurse to attend to his king duties.

If he knew his son, he must have cried himself to sleep. Surely, things would be easier if Thetis wasn't that stubborn.

But, no, they had already discussed that. It was no use dwelling on the matter.

Achilles was sleeping in his crib on his back, a tiny wrinkle above his nose and his feet occasionally kicking into the air.

A demigod. Peleus quietly brushed a tuft from the baby's forehead. His son was a demigod.

The thing shouldn't have been that much of a big deal for him.

His own father was a demigod, one of the numerous offspring of Zeus. His mother was a mountain nymph. He probably had as much divine blood as Achilles.

Except he had never felt like a god.

He thought back to what Thetis had told him, her words clear in his mind. Each demigod child was different. Each of them had a uniqueness to them, a talent that could be a blessing or a curse.

Herakles had had the strength of tens of men. Orpheus could sing so beautifully he'd make the rocks cry and move to pity even the God of Deaths. Helen, the little girl born from Queen Leda and Zeus himself was rumored to be the most beautiful child ever seen.

Whatever the tapestry the Fates were weaving, normalcy wouldn't be in their design; or happiness for that matter. Jason's first spouse, Medea, had killed their own children in retaliation for his betrayal. Herakles had slaughtered his family under Hera's influence. Orpheus had lost his wife once again at the very threshold of the Underworld.

The list could continue. Heroes weren't meant to be happy.

"But not yet," Peleus murmured, ruffling Achilles' curls, "not yet."

The baby would grow to be a hero one day, it was bound to happen; one day, but in the future, some years still down the line of a childhood Peleus would try to make as normal as possible.

Heroes deserved to be kids as well.