Chapter Text
Odysseus met his son. A boy who perfectly embodied himself in every way, down to each strand of hair on his head. Young, fiery, full of spirit, and protected by a goddess he once called his friend. He saw his wife again. Held her in his bloodied arms, begged for her to love him as she once did. Her scolds turned into sobs as the couple met after decades of absence. He spoke to that aforementioned goddess, who guided him through war, who watched his struggle from afar, who lifted him when he was at his lowest on that godforsaken island. He saw his father, while he wasn't entirely present in his life growing up, still made for a tearful reunion. He mourned his loved and lost, struggling to come to terms with the fact it's better to lose than to never love at all.
But he didn't see her.
He knew of her marriage to Eurylochus. But he didn't know where she disappeared off too. He hadn't even seen her since she was thirteen. God, how he missed her. He spent much of his time as king tending to her while she was a child. Then he went to war.
When his father came with no results, he hopelessly turned to Athena, who spoke of her lightly. She'd disappeared off to the island of Same. Disregarding his wife's wishes that he stay where he was, he insisted he needed to leave once more. This time only for a shortened time. The island wasn't far, that he knew. But he missed her so dearly, he needed to see her.
The boat gently rocked with the waves, Odysseus leaning against the railing. He'd been weary of water since his return, due to his less than well known feud with the god of the seas, but this was a risk he'd take. It was already proven he'd risk everything for family.
"You've been silent." Athena spoke to him, her tone almost gentle. The guilt and regret of leaving him to fend for himself those ten years weighed on her conscious, and she softened for him and him alone. Their several decades of friendship, narrowly restored by the kindness of Odysseus himself, provided a cushy layer of familiarity.
Odysseus didn't respond right away, his gaze glued to the waves, as if expecting something to come from them and smite him. But nothing did.
"I miss her." His first words of that evening. He left his wife earlier that afternoon. With the clear, speckled skies and minimal interruption, the trip was only an hour or so overseas. "She was everything to me."
"Your bond is strong. You can, at the very least, find comfort in her living long enough to see you again." Athena's hand met his shoulder, but he didn't flinch.
"She'll be devastated. I killed her husband."
"Her husband killed himself." Athena spat out the words, her grip tight. It finally drew the kings attention from his spaced out mindset. "And she'll be fine. They hardly knew each other."
Their union wasn't exactly spawned of love, rather from a political need. That he knew. But she was sweet, and had always been kind to her now late husband. She hadn't heard the news of even Odysseus' arrival, let alone the deaths of everyone else.
Same was already in view. He was almost there. All he could imagine was the hug he was going to wrap her in before either could speak. Titles, past pretenses, all of that time apart, forgotten in the name of a love known to a certain type of bond.
"Just be gentle, Odysseus." The goddess released him, knowing this reunion wasn't any business of hers. "She'll understand."
And she was gone. Athena was never one for announcing entrances or exits. No acknowledgement, no goodbye. Not even a hello.
He eagerly waited for the ship to dock. Once he could be off it, he was. He landed steadily in the sand, his sandals taking in the gritty substance. The discomfort didn't bother him, however, as he had a destination in mind. Her home. One she planned to share with what was once his friend, one he considered a brother.
None of his attendants, staff, assistants, no one could stop him from running into the village he knew she'd be in. They lost sight of him as he dashed, his cloak fluttering in the wind behind him.
Once he reached the town, houses on each side, he scanned for the one he'd seen before. He'd met that man here several times throughout their friendship. As a king, he had rule over the island, and was familiar with all of his territory.
His eyes landed on the house. His final destination. Odysseus reached the door and he yanked it open, without care for laws against breaking and entering. That wasn't relevant to to him. Not here. Not now.
In the main room, on a chair, a torn peplos in her shaky hands, sat the woman he searched for. Nearly in her mid-thirties now, she'd practiced her sewing until she could be regarded as a known seamstress. Her brown hair was well kept and long, reaching past her elbows when stood straight. She was without heir or husband. And their eyes met.
"Odysseus." She was the first to speak, noting his out of breath state. Her sewing was dropped to the floor and she brought herself to stand. A few seconds of silence enveloped the room before they ran into the tightest hug that either could muster.
"Ctimene.." He whispered, squeezing his sister with a grip that unveiled decades of emotion. His yearning for Penelope was clear. How dearly he held Telemachus was known. But Ctimene, seemingly forgotten, had sat in his mind every day of that war, and every day of the journey home. How he missed her.
"It's been twenty years." Her tone was shaky, uneven. Tears pricked at her eyes and for once, she didn't care to stop them. "Where did you go?"
"It's such a long story.. with so much to say." He pulled back, looking down at her. They separated, keeping some amount of distance. "It's for another time."
"By the gods, Odysseus, I missed you." A wobbly smile crossed her face as her cheeks got wet with tears. "I hate you for going. Why did you go?"
"I had to. It was my duty." Despite her grown age, he saw his little sister in her face. The eyes were the same. Her as a toddler. As a girl. As a teen. That's where it cut off. When he left.
"Our father said you were chosen by the Goddess Athena." She took his hands, holding them in hers. "I prayed every day to her that you would come back. That I'd get to see you again."
Prayer. He didn't bring her up fairly religious. He didn't disclose his relationship with Athena to practically anyone outside of his wife, his father. He'd whisper about her protection to his son, knowing Telemachus would grow up to be hers. But Ctimene found herself desperate. In a time of depression, and struggle. So she turned to what she considered to be infallible.
"Where is he?" Was her next question as she wiped her face. And Odysseus knew who she meant. Another man she waited a painstakingly twenty years for. He forced down the lump in his throat.
"I'm sorry, Ctimene." He couldn't muster anything else. It wasn't direct, but she wasn't dumb.
".. I see." An ache came from her chest. She might not have loved him, but she'd grown attached. She'd cared. And what she assumed to be his death wouldn't be easy. None of this was easy. "It's no fault of yours."
God, if only she knew.
"You should come to Ithaca. Stay in the palace." He tightened his grip on her, urging her to follow him. The trip back could be completed before midnight graced their sky.
"Leave Same?" It wasn't where she originally hailed from. But it had been her home for years. She spent her teenhood, young adulthood, and half of her thirties on his island. She made friends, had a community. And she loved her brother so painfully much. "I couldn't."
"Couldn't? But- Eurylochus isn't coming home, Ctimene."
"I know." Her smile hadn't wavered. Oh, how she missed him. "Stay the night, Odysseus. Tomorrow, we can sit over wine. Talk about those twenty years. If it wouldn't invoke too much stress upon your mental state."
Wine. A day with his sister. Time to reflect. With perhaps a few details on Thrinacia left out of the retold version. Athena wouldn't scold him for his half-truth.
"I'd love to."