The woman he built his kingdom with.
The woman he built his palace around.
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“Odysseus, slow down!” Penelope called as he tugged on her hand. She was breathless, breathtaking. He pulled her down the path, towards the palace.
“Hurry, queen. It’s important.” He called over his shoulder, squeezing her hand gently. He heard her give a winded laugh, but she didn’t refuse him.
They stopped just before the entrance of the palace, the new palace. “Yes, my love,” Penelope said, pressing her hand to her chest as she cut her eyes at him. “You and your men have been working relentlessly on finishing this.” She stood, meeting his gaze. “You said it was almost complete.”
Odysseus grinned, shaking his head quickly. “Not our home, wife. That’s not why we’re here.” He pushed the wooden doors open, stepping inside.
He was proud of what they had built. That was true. It had been a labor of love, a decision to build their lives, their family, in a place of their own. But there was something far more precious hidden within the walls.
Taking her hand again, Odysseys led her down a hall, stopping at a beautiful cypress door. Turning, he grinned. “Shall we, queen?” He asked, holding a hand out for her.
Penelope quirked an eyebrow at him, but took a step forward. “Ah, wait…” He stepped right behind her, covering her eyes with his hands. “Is this alright?” He whispered in her ear, unable to tame the excitement in his voice.
She hummed in agreement, hands coming up to hold on to his wrists, to steady herself. “Lead the way, king.”
He walked her carefully into the large room, kicking the door closed behind them. He was fond of his men, of the people of Ithaca, but this was for them and them alone. “Ready?” Odysseus asked, his own hands trembling as he waited.
She nodded. He dropped his hands.
“Odysseus,” she breathed, hands immediately coming up to her mouth. “Is that…?” She took a few steps forward, towards the centerpiece of the room.
“The tree where we exchanged our vows?” He finished for her, placing a hand on the small of her back as he moved forward to meet her. “The very same one.”
In the center of the room, the tree grew wildly, limbs climbing up into the ceiling, down the walls, canopying over the bed that lay beneath it. Penelope walked forward, dragging a finger along the carved wood.
The head of the bed was carved into the trunk of their olive tree, posts connected to and running from either side, down to the footboard, where olive vines and branches had been sculpted into the wood.
When she turned to look at him, there were tears running down her cheeks. “Odysseus,” she whispered, reaching for him. The king willingly wrapped her up in his arms, pressing his lips to any part of her he could reach.
“You know, I was never going to finish this place.” He murmured into her hair. “I started it years before Helen of Sparta was a name spoken across all of Greece. I wanted to build my life inside this home.” He loosened his grip to pull back, to gently turn her chin to meet his gaze.
“It seemed pointless, wife. To have a palace all to myself without someone to share it with. So I stopped.” A smile teased the corner of his lips. “And then… this rogue olive tree decided to grow. In the middle of my home. It vexed me, queen. Nowhere near the groves, and this tree springs up.”
He brushed a tear away with the pad of his thumb, watching as she tried to calm herself. He would hold her forever if that’s what she needed. “But then… then I am calledto Sparta. I meet a woman, this wild, mad woman. Right in the middle of my life, she springs up.”
Penelope let out a quiet sob, laughing as she did. “This wild woman meets me with a fury I have never seen before. She matches me step for step. I was smitten within moments of hearing her say my name.” She was smiling now and, gods, he loved her smile.
“I knew the night that I married her that this would be our home. This is where we would raise our family. That this wasn’t just an olive tree in the middle of a forgotten home. This was our home, our future.
“I love you, Penelope.” He whispered, his own tears clouding his eyes now. “Now, tomorrow, and forever.”
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Her hands were in his hair, clinging to him. “Odysseus,” she whispered, pulling him from memory. “I have been waiting twenty years to rule by your side once more.” Her voice was thick.
His breath caught in his lungs as she spoke. Denial twisted in his chest. Of course, he would keep ruling if that was what she wanted. He would end his days as the king of Ithaca, standing at her side.
But, gods, he wanted rest.
“However,” she continued after a moment, closing her eyes, breaking his gaze. “Being by your side is all that matters to me. If you are finished, I am finished.” She released a shaky breath. “I go where you go.”
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