The afternoon rays shone through the olive branches, illuminating the quiet spot. He walked over to Penelope’s stone, the one that looked out over his docks.
The rock she sat on while she waited for his return.
Odysseus knelt down in the dirt, setting his helmet atop of a bundle of tangled roots. “Athena…” he whispered, digging his fingers into the soil. “Old friend… I need help.” The words tasted bitter on his tongue,
The world was still around him. No mice scurried through the leaves, no birds fluttered in the treetops. Odysseus felt the tension of every second pushing on his shoulders.
A gentle ache pulled at his heart in the silence. He had expected an answer, even to deny his request. He hadn’t spoken to the goddess, hadn’t offered sacrifices or paid tribute in a long time.
He had Penelope.
He didn’t need the gods.
He clenched his fists in the dirt, trying not to let despair overtake him. Odysseus fought back the tears that he felt. Of frustration? Of hopelessness? It mattered little. He could not be a man that wept at the feet of the gods.
Odysseus let out a measured breath, hands trembling at his side. Hades’ threat weighed him down, kept him kneeling. Hehadto protect her. She was the only thing that kept him going.
He had spent twenty years disrupting the balance of the underworld, and he refused to let Penelope pay the price.
He is my world.
He inhaled sharply, unable to rise from the ground, knuckles white as he steadied himself.
I would follow him off the edge of the earth.
His jaw was so tight, he was convinced it would shatter at any moment. Reminders of her love… echoes of her devotion for him rattled inside his head, knocking the wind from his lungs.
There is nothing I won’t do for my king.
A single tear darkened the dirt beneath him as he tried to regain his composure.
There is no me without you.
A breeze rustled the trees around him, knocking the old helmet over. Leaves spun up around him before scattering into the air.
An owl screeched.
His heart was in his throat.
“My, my, King of Ithaca. Time has not made you any less sentimental, it would seem.”
He couldn’t bring himself to look up, couldn’t risk the hope that she wasn’t here. “Athena,” he forced his fingers to relax. “Thank you.”
“Are you going to continue to play in the dirt, Ithacan?” There was amusement in her voice, a lightness that he hadn’t expected to hear.
Odysseus rose slowly, brushing his hands off on his tunic. “Goddess of wisdom,” he finally met her eyes. She hadn’t aged a day since their first meeting.
Even in the afternoon sun, she had a glow about her. Her golden helm was spotless, with wings sprouting from either side. Athena stood several heads taller than him. “Well, Odysseus…” she asked, tilting her head to one side.
“I wouldn’t ask you this if I had any other options, Athena.” His voice lost all bravado, feeling as small as the grove mice. “I… I’m so worried about her.”
“Penelope?” She clarified, a lofty smile stretching across her face. “I hardly think you need to worry.”
“I have made a deal.” His entire being was heavy.
“Everyone knows, Odysseus. Hades is quite proud of himself.”
It was everything he could do to not stagger at the mirth in her voice. He was coming unglued, every fiber of his being was torn into pieces, and his oldest friend stood in front of him,laughing.
