gwenchan

Fandom: Odissea
Characters: Penelope, Odysseus

Prompt: Antica Grecia
Tag: Missing moment, pre-canon

Penelope is tending to her weaving work when Odysseus walks onto her. She has already completed little more than half of what will probably become a tapestry to decorate one of the palace rooms or a carpet. It’s a faithful reproduction of the island, its shores, the olive trees that dots the rocks, the little fields, and the numerous fish that populate their sea.

In the upper part the threads are slowly starting to resemble a sky where the wind is blowing clouds from the east.

It’s truly a masterpiece. Penelope has always being greatly skilled in weaving and Odysseus could watch her for hours. He clears his throat to warn her of his presence.

“I’m sorry I won’t be able to see it finished.”

Penelope doesn't stop her work. Between her beautiful eyes a wrinkle born from doubt vertically cut her forehead. After a brief consideration, she undo one stitch and changes the thread to a darker shade of blue.

“I can always send it to you,” she says.

“It would make a nice addition to the tent.”

But it’s a farfetched possibility. Sending a ship to Aulis or even Troy only to deliver a tapestry and few other goods would be a waste. Not mentioning most ships of the fleet are coming with him, a small fleet for a small island.

At the feet of Penelope’s chair, a crib is slowly rocking back and forth. Inside,Telemachus is sleeping belly-up. Normally children do not sleep with their parents but today they agreed to make an exception. Telemachus has fussed and cried all evening, still shaken by having been handled by hands that weren’t his mother’s, his father’s or the nurse’s.

According to the maids, Palamades hasn’t shown any particular care when forcefully taking the baby from the quietness of his afternoon nap to place him in the middle of the fields. When he risked having him killed.

Palamades justified himself saying he knew Odysseus was only feigning madness. That doesn’t stop Odysseus from bracing him against the nearest wall, arm pressed to his throat enough to cut air, as soon as they were alone.

Because even if he was feigning, there were countless things that could go wrong. The donkey he had attached to the plough might have bolted; or he could be so into his acting to momentarily forget about his surrounding; or maybe the gods decide to punish him by turning the pretence madness into a reality.

He could not have stopped in time.

In the crib, Telemachus yawns. Odysseus' chest heavies.

He won’t see him grow up. If the prophecy is true - and who is he kidding, there’s no escaping Fate - his son will be a man when - if - he comes back. He won't be there for his son's first word or his first steps. He won’t be teaching him how to string a bow, how to pass it onto the flame to make the process easier, how to take aim. He won’t show him how to prepare a field so that the harvest is bountiful, how to recognize if it’s going to rain, how to tend to a wounded sheep.

“Are you sure you don’t want to take Argo with you?”

The puppy must have sensed something, from how he refused to leave Odysseus’ side for the rest of the evening, heeling him. But a military camp is no place for a dog still in training.

“It’s best if he stays here. Besides, Telemachus has become attached.”

In the candlelight the expression on Penelope’s face is indecipherable. She spends a large portion of the following five minutes or so counting stitches.

“Are you going to Aulis?”

Odysseus shakes his head. "Not yet. We're heading to Scyros."

Menelaus explained to him the situation over dinner. Some of their kingdoms haven’t answered their call yet, there are still some kings and princes missing.

Among them is the prince of Phthia, that young Achilles rumoured to be the best warrior of his generation. Odysseus has seen the boy only once years ago. And now Menelaus is asking for his wit to force the prince out of his hiding. There are rumours his mother, the goddess Thetis, is behind it.

Contrary to what someone may expect, Odysseus doesn’t feel any sympathy, heart heavy and bitter for having been exposed.

If he has to leave, abandoning the son and the sweet wife behind, so will the others.