Chapter Text
Antinous wasn’t a good person. He knew that. He never considered himself a righteous or moral person. He was selfish, barbaric, and perhaps even vain. He knew. But in a man eats man world, could anyone truly blame him?
Sure, he wasn't a good person by any means, but it wasn’t as if his actions were wrong. The Queen had tricked them- played the suitors like filthy toys she couldn’t bear to touch. With her sultry voice and seductive body, she manipulated them into begging at her knees for the slightest drop of affection, filled with the futile hope of becoming Ithaca’s next King. What was Antinous to do? Let her stall for Gods know how long while he lapped up the scraps of deception the Queen threw them like a dog? He didn't think so.
Antinous scowled, pouring out the rest of the sickly sweet wine into his mouth. He wasn't a good person. But perhaps he’d have to become one. Simply for the sake of staying alive.
See, recently, the Gods have been sending him dreams. Dreams of blood dripping onto castle floors from freshly lopped off heads rolling on the tiles. Dreams of Ithaca’s old King staring at him from afar, and angry red eyes shifting across the room, searching for his next prey. Dreams of a tightly wound bow, one that only Odysseus could wield, lodging a sharp arrow into his throat. Dreams like that.
Antinous wasn't stupid. He knew that those dreams were the Gods taunting him with his fate. He gripped the empty bottle of wine tightly, feeling the glass crack under his hands. The dreams only confirmed his worst nightmare. The bottle shattered, a stray shard slicing into Antinous’s arm as he glared blankly at the floor.
Odysseus was alive. And none of the suitors stood a chance against him.
“What are you doing?” Eurymachus asked, approaching him from behind. His sharp eyes gazed uncannily at Antinous. The man glanced up at him impassively, before slowly pushing himself to his feet and snatching another one of the various bottles of wine littering the palace dining table.
Eurymachus’s gaze lingered on him unnervingly. Antinous took a swig from the newly acquired wine bottle in his hands, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “What do you want, Eurys?”
Eurymachus hummed, his eyes darting around Antinous’s face, no doubt searching for any weakness he can sink his conniving little teeth into. “Telemachus has returned.” He paused. “And a hooded man showed up at the gates. A new suitor, he claims.”
Antinous hummed, looking down at the dining table, which was covered in scraps of food that the suitors had unceremoniously littered about. “A new suitor?”
“Yes. A new suitor.” Eurymachus gazed at him curiously. “Are you perhaps… feeling unwell today, Antinous?”
Antinous silently pressed his fingertips against the sturdy wooden dining table. He looked up at Eurymachus with an odd look in his eyes. “Eurys. How long have we been here?”
Eurymachus glanced away, his voice low. “Three years. At least.”
Antinous laughed dryly. “Three years. Three years of waiting on the Queen hand and foot, praying to the Gods for a chance with her.” His voice lowered slightly. “Three years of her leading us on with promises of wealth and glory only to beat us back when we try to claim it.”
The shorter man clenched his jaw ever so slightly. “She is to make a decision today, she claims. She’s called for us to gather in the throne room to hear her speak.”
Antinous hummed, then grabbed his cloak and wrapped it around his neck with a flourish. “Very well then. Let us hear what she’s to say.”