He didn’t answer, just tightened his grip around her, holding her in the aftermath. She lost track of how long they sat there, frozen in this moment. She would have stayed here until Hades came to claim them both, if given the choice.
Eventually, her limbs started to ache, hips screaming in protest as they sat there. With a kiss to her temple, he lifted her from him, and she curled into the mattress, reaching for him.
Odysseus joined her, wrapping them up in the blankets. He pulled her close, and she wormed her way into his arms again, resting her head on his chest.
Her eyes were heavy, and being surrounded by him, by his smell, his touch, his heartbeat in her ear, she could have easily drifted off into sleep. “Wife,” he murmured into the electrified air around them, a soft word only for her.
49
SHE STOOD ON THE STEPS OF THEIR PALACE, trying not to wring her hands. Eurycleia by her side. “How are you feeling, my queen?” She asked, doting just a smidge. The nursemaid fluffed Penelope’s hair, straightened her dress.
“My friend,” she took the older woman’s hand gently, offering her a small smile. “You appear to be more off kilter than even I am.” The light of the setting sun covered the opening in an orange haze, making this moment feel close to magical.
The woman offered her a shy smile, eyes darting to the ground. “Sorry, ma’am. It’s just been so long-”
Penelope pulled the woman into an embrace. “I know, I’m excited too.” She had come outside at the first hint of hoofbeats on the horizon. Odysseus had been gone for just over a week with his hunting party.
Just long enough to confirm…
Her heart thudded in her chest as she scanned the horizon for her husband. She could hear his laughter, louder than any of the other men. They would crest the hillside any second.
She saw him before he saw her, and her breath caught in her throat. His hair was loose, wild in the ocean breeze. His skintan from days out at the hunt. He was a god, barreling towards her on horseback.
Her hands twitched with a tension she hadn’t found a way to release. She wasn’t upset. She just could not wait to be with Odysseus again, to share with him.
Eurycleia spun on her in an instant, as if she could feel the unease that leaked out of her. “Alright, my queen?”
“Stop fussing.” Penelope scowled, playfully swatting her hand away. The woman beside her laughed before ducking back inside the palace.
The horses came to a halt several lengths from the castle door, Odysseus swinging off of his in one swoop. When his eyes met hers, Penelope felt a warm flush creep up her neck.
The look he was giving her was anything but appropriate. Especially in front of his hunting party. Her husband took the steps two at a time, landing in front of her within moments of dismounting his horse.
“Hi,” he took her face in his hands, pressing the lightest kiss to her lips. “I missed you.”
She exhaled, instantly caught up in him, but her voice was suddenly missing. She couldn’t speak.
He pressed his mouth to hers again, this kiss less reserved. She felt him succumb to the week apart, the hunger that she had felt for him, too.
But her brain was running at a breakneck pace, and as much as she had missed him, she couldn’t give herself over to him, even as he groaned softly against her mouth.
His fingers slid up into her hair, tangling at the base of her skull, gripping her to him like a lifeline. His other hand had already found her waist, drawing her flush against him.
She was malleable in his grip. But her breath was still shaky against his lips. She couldn’t focus on his homecoming.
He pulled back, only just. Hand returning to her cheek as he studied her. Lips brushing hers, “Penelope,” his breath was hot on her face. “Why aren’t you…”
He pulled back further, thumbs stroking over her cheeks as he searched her face, his brow creasing. “You’re quiet,” he murmured. “What’s wrong?” Penelope swallowed. She should have said something, anything, but her throat was tight.
Odysseus studied her, reading her like the tides. He inhaled sharply. “Wait… are you angry with me?”
She blinked. “Angry?”
“You are,” he groaned, stepping back slightly, raking a hand through his salt-stiffened hair. “Gods, Penelope, I knew I should have sent word. But the hunt was longer than expected, and I-”
“Odysseus.”
He stopped rambling. Her voice was too soft.
