Page 47 of Elysium

ODYSSEUS STIFFENED BENEATH HER GRASP. “Keep walking,” she muttered under her breath. “Don’t let him win.” The man beside her radiated tension, his muscles tight.

“Penelope…” Even his words were clipped.

“I know, I heard him. Not here.” She kept her hand steady on him, forcing him to slow down, to stay calm.

When the door of the bedroom shut behind them, she felt him about to crumble. “Penelope…” this time, his voice was filled with an unnameable emotion.

“We are here, husband.” She took his hand in both of hers, squeezing gently.

Tugging on his hand gently, she led him to their bed.

As she sat, she searched his face, trying to decipher the expression that haunted him.

“My love.” she ran her fingers through the curls of his greying beard. “Please breathe.”

“Hades has sent your father here with a message, wife.” His voice was strained, rough. “We cannot ignore him. The god of death takes his dues.” Even as the storm broke in his eyes, he relaxed against her hand, leaning into her touch.

“He will not break us, Odysseus. We have outwitted and outlasted gods before, and we were separated.” She smiled at him, hoping she was able to sound as calming as he needed her to be.

“Together. We do this together. Whatever schemes, whatever plots, whatever turmoil,” with her free hand, she laced her fingers through his. “We do it together, husband.”

“He kills you, that’s the deal. That’s the scheme, queen. I do as he asks, or you suffer. Telemachus suffers.” Odysseus practically growled, his tone just as severe as his words.

Persephone had hinted, had gently nudged her in the direction of the god’s ask… but Penelope could only guess… could only wonder what Hades had demanded of her husband.

“When he visited you, after Sparta?” She whispered, “What did he ask of you?”

Odysseus released a breath, eyes closed. Her heart clenched as his face fell, as he pulled back from her. “I…” The old king shook his head, wringing his hands in his lap. “Penelope…” he whispered her name like an oath, a sacred word meant only for the two of them. “I’m not strong enough.”

She moved closer to him, refusing to allow him to create distance. “Let me be strong for us both then, husband.” Penelope brushed a lock of hair from his cheek, offering him a small smile, though his eyes were still closed.

He turned to face her now, but there was a spark in his eyes that he hadn’t seen before… a hunger that both warmed her insides, and constricted her breath. “Ody?” She lifted her hand, reaching for him.

He surged towards her, sending her backwards onto the bed with a single movement. His lips covered hers quickly, kissing her roughly. She gasped against him, pressing her hands into the steady planes of his chest.

His tongue pressed against the lines of her mouth, pleading for permission. Instinctively, she parted her lips, allowing him deeper, allowing him anything he needed.

Odysseus whimpered into her mouth, shaking Penelope out of the cloud of desire that had fallen over them both. Her hands left his chest, cupping his face. She gently pushed him away, holding tightly to his cheeks. “Odysseus,” she panted, trying to calm her own ragged breaths.

“I need you,” he groaned, breaking free of her grasp and nuzzling his nose against her pulse point. “I need you, queen.” And when she didn’t answer, when she couldn’t find the right words, “Please, Penelope.”

He pressed kisses to the curve of her throat, almost frantic. Her head was spinning, her husband was begging . She pinched her eyes shut, pushing him a little harder. When he finally moved, she shifted too, straddling his hips.

“Yes,” he muttered, hand reaching for her neck, dragging her mouth back to his. “Yes.” For a moment, she was swept away again. Pulled under by his touch, his kiss, the way his body moved against hers.

“Odysseus,” she breathed, finally breaking away from his kiss. His eyes were black, still caught up in the moment he had carved for them. His hips bucked, pressing against her. “Not like this, king.” She whispered after a moment, reaching for him.

Holding his face in her hands, she watched as the fire fought for its place in his eyes, in his blood. His breathing was still ragged, his body still pulled taut with the taste of longing.

His grip, clutching at her waist, loosened. The color returned to his eyes slowly. “Wife,” he rasped, avoiding her gaze. Penelope would have sworn that she saw a faint blush across his cheeks… a hint of shame in his eyes. “I-”

“Stop,” she whispered, dropping her lips to his. She was slow, precise, with this kiss. Fingers threaded through his beard, she kissed him gently. “Stop.”

When she pulled back, she saw the tear tracks that stained his cheeks. “I am not averse to you wanting to use me, king.” She offered with a tight smile. “But not like this.”

His arms wrapped around her fully, cementing her place against him. Again, he buried his face into her neck, but she could feel the way his body shook with unwept tears. She laced her hands through his hair, pressing her lips to his cheek, his earlobe, his temple. “I am here. We are together.”

As she fought back her own tears, fear crept into the back of her throat. What if her embrace wasn’t enough to ground him? What if he floated away with his dread?

What if Hades took him from her?

She continued to brush her hand through his hair, holding him as tightly as he held her. The sobs wracking his body slowed. His grip on her was not as crushing.

“Odysseus,” she whispered softly, removing her hands from his hair, finding his chin. She tilted his face up to meet hers. She pushed down the grief she felt upon seeing his bloodshot eyes, anchoring herself in his arms. “Tell me, husband.”

“He gave me until winter ends.” His voice was rough, anguished. “On the day Persephone returns to her mother’s side… that is the day I…” his voice faltered, cracked.

Her breath caught. Her fingers dug into his jaw, desperate. “No.” She murmured. It wasn’t denial, it was a plea.

Odysseus only closed his eyes.

Everything inside her shattered.

He caught her, he always caught her. He clutched at the back of her dress, holding her together.

She clung to his tunic, twisting her fingers in the fabric, seeking the solidity of him, the reality of him.

“I just…” Penelope rasped, her voice faltering.

She pressed her face against his chest, his pulse beating like a war drum against her cheek.

“I just got you back, Odysseus.”

He didn’t respond. Maybe he didn’t know how. The rush of emotions hit like a hammer to her skull, fracturing something deep inside her. “Twenty years, Odysseus,” she could barely breathe. “And now we have months?”

“What was I supposed to do, Penelope?” His voice was tight. “Tell him no? Look the god of death in the eyes and deny him?” Anger was rising in him, in his words. “He would have hurt you. He would have hurt our son. What was I supposed to do?”

“You weren’t supposed to carry it alone.” She managed, hands trembling against him. “We’ll find a way. We’ll figure something out.”

Her husband offered her a soft smile, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “Tomorrow, wife.” His voice was laced with exhaustion, worn too thin.

She watched him as he readied their chambers for sleep, her mind reeling as she did. “Odysseus, you just crumbled before me. You’re asking me to forget the grief your eyes just held.”

“I am tired, heart.” But he avoided her gaze as he secured their door. “Tomorrow we will find the answers. Tomorrow we can walk this path.” His hand trembled gently as he passed a finger over his dagger.

“Odysseus-”

“No more, Penelope. Not tonight. My sins can wait until the morning.” He turned down the bed, watching her expectantly.

Penelope slipped underneath the covers, her eyes never leaving him.

Tomorrow for him, maybe.

Tonight… tonight she would show the gods that she was not a queen to be trifled with. Tonight… she made good on her word.

Tonight, Hades would learn who he was up against.