Αγάπη (Love)

Icarius and Laertes looked across the royal gardens of Ithaca to where their children played. Odysseus, the young prince of Ithaca, was a robust boy of ten, with a tousle of dark hair and mischievous blue eyes. Yet he played well with Icarius' daughter, Penelope. Penelope was six years old, tiny and blonde, and wanted to play with makeshift twig dolls. Odysseus was being surprisingly nice to the little Penelope, and agreed to play with the "daddy" doll while Penelope was the "mommy".

"Icarius," Laertes, king of Ithaca, started, "Look. The children are playing together."

"Oh, they grow up so fast. Next you know, she'll be getting married and he'll be going off to war. It seems like only yesterday when Penelope was just a babe in arms and Odysseus was a toddler."

The two watched as Penelope slipped and accidentally broke her twig doll. She sat on the dirt and began to cry. Odysseus, with gentleness not usually found in boys his age, sat down next to her and comforted the little girl.

"Oh, look at that. Our little Odysseus, playing so nicely with Penelope." Anticlea walked over to Laertes and slipped her hand in his. Periboea, Penelope's mother, also came out onto the patio and stood next to her husband. The gods, as well as the four parents, watched Odysseus and Penelope play.

~ Ten Years Later ~

"I don't have a chance in Hades." Menelaus, eldest son of Atreus, king of Sparta, was pacing nervously back and forth in front of a mirror. He had arranged and re-arranged his brown hair and clothes, oiled his body, polished his weapons, and generally done everything that young Greek men did to look good. He was about to have a one-on-one audience with Helen, the most beautiful woman in the world, having made it into the final round of suitors.

Helen had three rounds of the competition. First was rank. She wanted to marry someone of high status, and eliminated those who didn't have a title. The second round was physical prowess. The contestants competed in a number of physical activities, ranging from javelin throwing to wrestling to sword fighting. Menelaus had made it through both rounds. The third and final round, seeing as there were only ten or so men left, was whether the suitor could hold a conversation with Helen that she found pleasing. Menelaus and Odysseus were outside the room where Helen spoke with another suitor.

"You'll do fine." Odysseus repeated for what seemed like the hundredth time that day. Odysseus wasn't in this competition – he was far too smart to enter into a competition for a girl whose personality he didn't like. Sure, she was beautiful, but something was lacking. But if Menelaus, his best friend, wanted to enter, Odysseus was going to support him all the way. When Menelaus paced over to a nearby bench and sat with his head in his hands, Odysseus stood in front of the mirror and looked at himself.

He had changed a lot from that little ten-year-old. Plenty of exercise and a healthy diet had made him tall and strong, and his intelligence and wit had only grown over the years. He was not exactly as bodily beautiful as Menelaus, but he did have a certain combination of charisma, intelligence, and physical beauty that made him a very wanted bachelor.

"What do I talk about?" Menelaus looked up at Odysseus with pleading eyes, taking his head out of his hands. "The weather, or something?"

"Whatever you do, do not talk about the weather. And keep the number of comparisons between her features and pools of deep blue water or rubies to an absolute minimum. Speak of whatever comes naturally, and please try to relax a bit." Odysseus advised his friend.

"Menelaus of Sparta," a girl called from the doorway. Menelaus sent a brief, stricken glance at Odysseus before following the girl and trying to settle his face into something vaguely resembling normalcy.

"Good luck," Odysseus called after him.

The girl closed the door behind her and started to exit the room. She glanced at Odysseus, then did a double take. "Odysseus? Is that you?"

"Penelope? Can it be that the little girl who used to try to eat bugs has grown up?" He smiled and embraced her, before stepping back and looking at her.

Penelope had certainly grown up. By his estimation, as he was twenty-one and she was four years younger than he, she was seventeen. She had grown her long blonde hair out, and her blue eyes sparkled. She was quite pretty, as well, and moved with some sort of innate grace as she walked towards him.

"Are you also in the running for my dear cousin's hand?" Penelope asked.

"Oh, no. I'm merely supporting Menelaus in his quest for Helen."

Something like relief passed over the girl's features. "Oh, it's been so long. Let's catch up. Come to lunch with me."

The two left the room, talking and laughing, unaware of the eyes of the gods watching over them.

~ Three Years Later ~

"And may the gods bless this union," the priest of Athena announced as he performed the age-old wedding ceremony. The audience cheered as Odysseus and Penelope shared their first kiss as husband and wife.

"Look at my boy. All grown up and getting married!" the elderly Laertes sighed to his wife. Anticlea was softly smiling, and tears of happiness were running down her face. As Odysseus had been born late in their marriage (he was an only child), the two had scarcely hoped that both of them would be alive to partake in this ceremony. Laertes looked across the aisle, and could see Icarius and Periboea celebrating as well. He spoke to his old friend, Icarius.

"Ah, I remember my own wedding," Laertes reminisced, "such a long time ago. What, how long has it been, some thirty-three years? Anticlea looked just as beautiful as Penelope does today, and I like to think that I looked like Odysseus. You were there, were you not? If I didn't look like Odysseus does today, please don't ruin my happy illusion."

Not long after the two had seen each other at Helen's competition, their fathers had met. After the normal wine-swilling and feast, Laertes and Icarius had decided that it would be a perfect match. "After all," Icarius could be remembered as saying, "you can tell they're perfect. Look at the way they see each other. It's just like Periboea and I do."

The gods kept watching the couple, and blessed them in all their years to come.

~ Nineteen Years Later ~

Odysseus stood on the white sand beach of Ogygia, the nymph Calypso behind him. He looked across the sea in the direction he knew to be that of Ithaca, and his dear, beloved wife. Calypso's enchanting isle held no power over him – even after seven years on the island paradise, he still wanted to return home. He sighed and turned to go back to Calypso's house. But as he did, he saw Calypso quietly conversing with – wait, was that the god Hermes? Surrounded by a faintly glowing nimbus, the god looked exactly as Odysseus had imagined him. Calypso and Hermes looked back at Odysseus, and the god vanished.

"Odysseus," the nymph spoke, "it's time for you to go home."

And with those words, Odysseus' heart rose. He remembered Tiresias' prophecy – he was alone at this point, and it had certainly been a long time. The gods were going to allow him to come home, after all. He rushed back into the house and made plans for the long journey home.

~ One and a Half Years Later ~

It was their anniversary. The two had been married twenty-three years, and the gods fated that Odysseus returned on that day. After he killed the suitors and cleaned the hall, his eyes turned to Penelope. She was standing in the doorway, looking as radiant as she had the day of their wedding. Penelope and Odysseus took each other in. He was battle-stained and weary. She had a few more lines on her face, but altogether looked pretty much unchanged. Odysseus staggered across the hall (he had sustained an injury in Troy that had left him with a slight limp) and for the first time in twenty years, they kissed.

"You're home." Penelope said, her eyes bright with tears of happiness.

"I missed you so much."

"And I, you. I love you."

"I love you too, Penny."

~ The End ~

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