Page 64 of Elysium
HE WAS ALREADY AT THE DOCKS, prepping his crew for the voyage ahead. She had shooed him along, promised to meet him in an hour's time.
The truth of the matter was that being in the room with him this morning was suffocating her. The idea that her mad husband, the steadfast rock she clung to, would be leaving for war terrified her.
Penelope’s hands trembled as she lifted her son from his bed. Telemachus cooed, babbling as he reached for her. His innocent smile was one of the few things keeping her grounded.
Deep down, she knew that this would happen. Kings were called to war. It was the way of the world. And Laertes would still be here, as well as Anticlea and Eurycleia. This was not a burden she would have to bear alone.
“Come, little king,” Penelope drew in a breath, “Papa waits for us.” Settling her son on her hip, she pressed a kiss to his cheek, relishing the peel of laughter that erupted from him.
Eurycleia met them by the gates of the palace, snatching Telemachus out of his mother’s arms with a wide grin. Penelope had never known love like her son would, and it made her heart flutter to see her son experience joys beyond any she had thought possible.
They fell into a comfortable rhythm as they walked to the docks, the queen’s hands wringing in front of her as they drew nearer. “All will be well, queen.” Eurycleia’s voice broke through her thoughts, “He’s an Ithacan. They’re hardy bastards. He’ll be by your side again in no time.”
As they drew nearer, he was in her sights immediately. It was as if the world stopped when he was around. Her vision narrowed only to the auburn-haired man with a smile as bright as a thousand suns. He laughed freely with his men, head thrown back.
Her heart ached. Penelope couldn’t imagine any period without his laughter, let alone waiting for him to return from war. Within a few more steps, his eyes had found her. The emotions that she saw in his gaze were unreadable, which caused her stomach to twist even further.
Why couldn’t he be mischievous? She could handle that.
Why couldn’t he be cocky or uncivilized? That was second nature to him, and - to her.
Instead, he stood before her and she could almost claim that he, too, looked sad.
As quickly as she noticed the sorrow in his eyes, it disappeared, and her arrogantly annoying husband bounded to where she and the nursemaid stood waiting. Odysseus took Telemachus from the other woman, tossing him into the air with a grin.
Their son squealed, swatting the king on the face as he jabbered. He pressed several kisses to the boy’s face, all while pretending to growl. Telemachus’ laughter echoed across the sea.
Penelope’s heart lurched, tears stung at her eyes. She wanted to run away, to hide from these overwhelming feelings that were swallowing her alive. Her breath hitched, and she stared at her feet.
Still avoiding her husband’s gaze, she heard him whisper something for Telemachus’ ears only. She watched out of the corner of her eye as he kissed their son on the cheek once, twice, three times, before handing the boy off to Eurycleia. “Be good,” he whispered, hesitating before letting go.
He turned to her. Eurycleia turned to give them privacy.
It was everything Penelope could do to not collapse right there in front of the gods and his crew.
“Hey.” His words were so quiet against the lapping waves, just out of her reach. “I love you.”
She was fighting back a sob that crept at her throat, eyes still trained on her hands. Her chest already shook with rapid breaths. Penelope shook her head, squeezing her eyes shut. “Odysseus, I-” Her voice broke, breath hitched.
She felt his hand on her cheek, the warmth that radiated off of him enveloping her in an instant. She wanted to fold into his arms, to hide away from the world and take shelter in him.
But he was leaving, and he was taking that sanctuary with him. He brushed a loose tear off of her cheek with his thumb, framing her face with his other hand. “Penelope,” gently, so gently, he turned her face, forcing her to meet his gaze.
And she broke.
Tears broke free, the sobs that she had been suppressing fought for the light of day. Her entire body was wracked with emotions she had never had to name until this very moment. “I can’t… I can’t-” She tried to speak, but her heart was in her throat.
Odysseus pulled her closer, pressing her forehead against hers. “I know, I’m so sorry.” He was crying too. He could feel it in the way his hands trembled against her skin, in the way his breath came just a little too quick.
“Tell me,” she gasped, trying to finish her thought. “Tell me how to do this,” she pleaded, fingers finding purchase in his tunic. “Tell me how to say goodbye to you.”
One of his hands left her cheek, opting instead to tangle in her curls, holding her against him. “I don’t know, heart. I don’t know.”
“What if I lose you?” She breathed, airing her deepest fear into the ocean breeze around them. “What if you don’t come home?” Her knees were weak, her body shook beneath his touch.
For all her stoicism and the strength she had tried to convey moments ago, she was lost in her grief now. Without his steadying touch, without the rise and fall of his chest, without his hands on her skin, she would float away.
“Penelope,” he muttered, fingers gripping her just a little tighter. “You could never lose me. I will come home to you, no matter how long it takes.”
She couldn’t answer. Her voice was gone with the winds. And he just held her, arms wrapping around her, securing her against him. They fit together like two halves of a whole… How was she supposed to live without him?
“Odysseus,” she whispered, face pressed into his tunic, stained with their shared sorrow. “Don’t go. Please, please just stay.”
“Oh, my heart.” She could barely hear his words over the pounding of her own heart, over the way her body was wracked with heartache. She hiccuped as he pulled back, holding her chin delicately between his fingers. “What I wouldn’t give…” he pressed his lips gently to hers.
Penelope let another whimper escape, tears falling harder as he kissed her. Her fingers clutched at him, as if she could keep him here with her touch alone.
He tasted like salt.
“Odysseus.” She breathed against his lips, his name faltering in her throat. “I love you, Odysseus.”
“Be good, wife. I leave my heart with you.”