Taking care

[gwenchan]

 

Fandom. The Odyssey
Characters: Penelope; Odysseus
Prompt: Antica Grecia
Tag: pre-canon; hurt/comfort; married-life

Penelope’s hands are fresh against Odysseus’ skin, her touch soft and gentle as she lifts his palm to her eyes to better examine the wound.
“It’s only a scratch” Odysseus repeats, making to pull away, uselessly. Despite appearances, Penelope’s grip is as solid as iron.
“I have to take out the thorns,” she says, squinting her eyes critically.
“I can do it myself. It’s nothing really. I had it worse.”
She wasn’t even supposed to know.
Penelope has nothing of it. With the same stern tone with which she administers the palace, she orders Odysseus to sit down on the couch.
“Penelope…”
“Don’t you dare move,” she warns, instructing a maid to bring hot water, fresh linen for the bandages and some pomade.
“Really, how did it happen?”
“I tripped. Oh, well, Argo made me trip. He saw a hare.”
Curled at Odysseus’ feet, the puppy whines, ears low.
“It’s alright, buddy,” Odysseus bends to scratch him on the head. “It was an accident.”
“Did he catch it?”
“It got away, unfortunately.”
“Too bad,” Penelope sighs, “It would have made for a good stew.”
It takes a moment for the maid to fetch what was required. “Do you need anything else, milady?”
“No. Thank you. You’re dismissed.”
From the bowl, vapour rises in thin swirls. Penelope pushes it toward Odysseus. “Put your hand inside,” she instructs. “It should make pulling the thorns out easier.”
“How long?”
“Till the water has cooled down.”
A single glare nips in the bud any attempt of protesting.
The pads of his fingers are all wrinkled by the time the water has become cold, but it did make his skin a little softer .
“It’s going to sting a bit," she warns, taking a pair of tweezers and a needle
He laughs. “I’m a warrior, Penelope. I know about pain.”
"Doesn't mean you have to feel it if we can avoid it.”
She works with calm and precision, pinching the softened skin enough so that she can pick the tip of the thorn with the tweezers and pull it completely out. For those that had got deeper into the flesh, she helps herself with the needle.

There is in every gesture of hers a tenderness that has him, a grown-up man, blessed by the gods in wits and strength, blush. He knows he doesn't show much, but he can feel the warmth on his cheeks, that light tingling. And he knows Penelope can detect it as well.

“What? A wife cannot care for her husband? I believe it’s listed among my duties.”

For once, he renounces the debate, only letting Penelope, his loving wife, finish treating the wound, applying a thin layer of pomade.

“I don’t need the bandages, Penelope.”

“Just to be sure. I don’t want it to develop an infection.”

The bandaging she does is simple but robust, good for when he’ll go hunting or work in the field.

“There,” Penelope presses a quick kiss on his palm before finally letting go. “Be more careful next time.”

“I will,” he promises with a chuckle.

Or maybe not. If it means receiving such care from his lovely wife, next time he happens to fall into a thorn-bush, it won’t be Argo’s fault.