"i'm yours, i should be spoken of as yours"
-heroides, ovid
and so, weddings are a great excuse for bad behavior
Helen and Clytemnestra's double wedding was a three-day affair, as custom dictated. Unsurprisingly, everyone got absolutely wrecked during it.
Odysseus was good at holding his wine, but even he got deep enough into his cups to result in some of his memories of those days being… blurry at best. In hindsight, Odysseus felt he could remember just how debauched everyone was and just how much he was letting himself get swept up in it by tracking the development in his interactions with Penelope.
The first day was intended for Helen and Clytemnestra to spend with their family and friends, saying goodbye and preparing to transition into their new lives as wives. This was largely formality for them, as they weren't going anywhere after the wedding, at least any time soon. As such, all the men were basically left to their own devices but provided with the usual lavish banquets, even more decked out now that it was in the name of an actual celebration.
So Odysseus didn't see Penelope that day, and he spent most of his time playing dice and talking with Diomedes, Achilles, and Patroclus.
"Poor Clytemnestra, having to marry King Meathead," Achilles was saying.
"Eh, she seems like she can handle herself." Patroclus took a drink.
"Still." Achilles made a gagging noise. "He's just the worst."
"When you're right you're right." Odysseus rolled the dice.
Diomedes chuckled. "Don't worry about her too much. She'll probably, like, cut off his dick and feed it to a goat or something before the year is up."
"Now that I respect." Achilles nodded approvingly.
The second day was the day of the actual double wedding. It was an all-day affair that included offerings to the gods, gifts, animal sacrifices, chariot processions, banquets, music, dancing, and much more besides.
The ceremonies themselves were rather somber. Odysseus found it sort of bizarre to watch Helen and Clytemnestra be married to Menelaus and Agamemnon in such a formal manner when he knew all of their respective personalities and how not formal and somber they were.
But that part of the day was over pretty quickly, and then everyone moved into the festivities, feasting and dancing and mingling. It was almost weird to think that the girls were officially married now, and the debacle that had brought them all there and gone on for weeks was now resolved.
Clytemnestra and Helen were engaged in a ceremonial dance when Odysseus ran into Penelope—although he didn't so much "run into" her as he'd been watching her take part in the dances, waiting for her to take a break. When she walked to the side of the hall to refresh herself with a glass of wine, she headed to the spot where he was standing. He took that as a sign of encouragement. He greeted her with a smile.
"Hi," she responded, hiding her own smile behind her cup. Her face was flushed from the dancing, and she was wearing a sky blue gown, her hair up in an intricate style that exposed her shoulders and long neck. Odysseus had never found himself noticing things like what color gown a woman wore or how her hair was done before Penelope.
He frowned momentarily. Not liking how captivated he felt, he decided to be bold. "I enjoyed watching you dancing."
"I'm glad someone enjoyed it, I only take part when forced. That should be my last dance of the night."
"That's a shame." He clucked his tongue. "No point in trying to persuade you?"
"Oh, there's always a point in trying."
"I completely agree."
They smiled at each other.
"So how bad do you think the guests are going to get tonight?" she asked after a beat.
"Oh, it's going to get very bad." He nodded knowingly. "The past few weeks were nothing. This group… They're animals."
She laughed. "Great. I love watching people make fools of themselves."
"That's also one of my favorite pastimes. You have great taste."
Suddenly there were hands gripping Penelope's shoulders. He looked over her head to see that Icarius was behind her, giving Odysseus a dirty look.
"Come now, Penelope," Icarius said, steering her away and glaring daggers at Odysseus. "Your family is missing you."
Penelope shot Odysseus an apologetic look as she was pulled away, but he just smiled at her and shook his head in response. For whatever reason, he felt exceptionally fond of her in that moment.
Penelope spent the next hour or so sitting with her father and sisters, intermittently speaking with guests and picking at the huge variety of food in front of her. For whatever reason she didn't have much of an appetite—she almost felt on edge. Her younger sisters were giddy and vapid, and she wished she could talk to Clytemnestra and Helen. But they were farther down the table with their parents and Agamemnon and Menelaus, too far to speak with. That didn't stop them from occasionally catching her eye and giving her silly looks or making crude gestures about other people when they weren't looking.
At one point, Penelope had her sights on Odysseus, watching him as he spoke with some of the other men in the hall, when suddenly she had the feeling that she, too, was being watched. She turned her head to see that Clytemnestra and Helen were looking at her, giggling. Helen stuck her tongue out at her, and Clytemnestra shook her head in a show of mock disappointment. Penelope rolled her eyes at them exaggeratedly and turned back to the plate in front of her, pretending to pick at some fish. She would never hear the end of it from them about that. She sighed.
Not long after that, her father yawned beside her.
"How are you feeling?" she asked politely.
"I'm rather tired, honestly." He drew a hand down his face. "I certainly don't have the night's festivities in me."
"Do you want to retire?"
"Yes." He paused. "Do you want to stay up and enjoy the rest of the night?" His voice was stiff, as though this was hard for him to say.
"Oh." She hesitated. Saying yes seemed like the wrong answer, but…
Her father evidently read the conflict on her face. He had a soft look in his eyes, and he patted her knee, saying, "Stay, stay. You know I trust you. Anyway, you should keep an eye on your sisters and the rest of the younger girls—I'll never hear the end of it from them if I try to cart them off now, and I don't have the fight in me, honestly."
She smiled at him, grateful. "I'll report back to you in the morning about just how much of a fool everyone makes of themselves," she promised.
He smiled back and kissed the top of her head before leaving.
The moment he was gone the younger girls were scattering, wanting to dance or mingle; but Clytemnestra and Helen, still sitting in their veils, beckoned Penelope over. She gathered her skirts and made her way to them.
Standing in front of them, she put a hand on her hip. "So, how does it feel to be married women?"
"Mm, we're very important now," Clytemnestra said in a serious tone. Penelope could see her slight smile through her veil.
"Yes, yes," Helen agreed. "You may kiss my hand." She exaggeratedly dangled her arm in front of her.
Penelope flicked the back of her hand playfully and sat down. Clytemnestra snickered.
"Where have Agamemnon and Menelaus gone?" Penelope asked, eyes scanning the crowd.
"Who knows," Clytemnestra said. "I think they had to go sacrifice another sheep or whatever. You know how men are."
"No one ever tells you you don't get to have any fun at your own wedding. We just have to sit here, looking pure." Helen pouted.
"Mm," Penelope hummed. "Well, the bedding should be soon." She gave them conspiratorial looks.
"That's probably why your father just left." Clytemnestra chuckled.
"Yeah, he doesn't want to be reminded of what'll happen to his sweet daughter soon enough." Helen grinned at Penelope through her veil.
Penelope's face felt warm. "Well, we don't know that."
"Yes we do," Clytemnestra said at the same time that Helen said, confidently, "Odysseus'll win."
Penelope paused. "Are you nervous?" she asked, voice low.
Clytemnestra and Helen exchanged looks. They were both supremely confident girls, but there was a sort of excited nervousness about them.
"Not really," Clytemnestra said, Helen nodding in agreement. "I don't know, it's like… We've known them forever. Everything's been leading up to this." She shrugged.
"Mom told us both to drink a lot," Helen added, nodding to her wine cup. "Which is kind of like, yikes, Mom. But I am feeling a good buzz."
Penelope realized she was also feeling a little buzzed. She'd drunk more than she'd thought.
"Well, I guess it can't hurt to feel… loosened up." Penelope scrunched up her face at her own choice of words as the girls laughed.
"I'm really not nervous," Helen insisted. She paused. "Could you do us a favor, though?"
Penelope widened her eyes. "What do you need?"
"Well, we were thinking… You know how the bedding works. Everyone escorts us there and then they're supposed to, like, hang around outside while we…"
"Seal the deal," Clytemnestra supplied.
Penelope knew very well. As close family she would be one of the main ones to escort them.
"I don't know, could you just try to move people along quickly, back to the party?"
"I'll see what I can do…" Penelope sympathized. The whole tradition was already uncomfortable, but something about it was especially weird with the double wedding and all. "They're a rowdy bunch, though. And the younger girls love that stuff, they'll be hard to move along."
"You're wily, I'm sure you can herd them." Helen smiled.
"No one says no to you, Penny," Clytemnestra agreed. "Maybe you can enlist Odysseus to the cause. He'll be plenty happy to help you out." Helen giggled.
The girls talked and joked for a while longer until, just as Penelope had predicted, it was time for the bedding.
A procession began, comprised mainly of the guests and younger members of the family, directing the newlyweds towards their respective bedchambers. Penelope was towards the front, close to Helen and Clytemnestra, and not far behind here were Odysseus and many of Helen's old suitors. Lots of them, especially the younger girls, were throwing nuts and berries at the brides and grooms, as custom dictated. Penelope also got pelted in the process, eventually giving up on trying to brush the projectiles out of her hair. The group was incredibly loud, jeering and making bawdy jokes and innuendos as they all pushed forward.
"Iphthime, I know you're aiming right for my head!" Helen shouted at Penelope's younger sister. She squealed, her voice drowned out by the noise. Menelaus was beside her, trying to cover her head, but it was little use—Iphthime had strikingly good aim.
"Iphthime, stop it!" Penelope shouted over the ruckus, reaching out to slap her sister's hand.
"Give me some of those," Castor said, stealing some berries from the girls and joining in.
Clytemnestra was covering her ears. "I hate fertility rituals, I swear, who came up with this shit—" Agamemnon laughed as she got jostled forward and almost tripped, but he did reach out to catch and steady her, so Penelope guessed that was a point in his favor.
"Don't you think it's weird that they're getting bedded at the same time?" Penelope heard Big Ajax say behind her. "Like, they're sisters and brothers and it's all gonna be happening at the same time…"
Penelope looked over her shoulder, fixing him with a look even though the same thought had occurred to her earlier. The men surrounding him, which included Achilles, Patroclus, Diomedes, and Odysseus, began laughing when they saw the look on her face.
"I'm sorry," Ajax said when he realized she'd heard him. "I am… very drunk." He held up his hands, looking genuinely apologetic. Odysseus kept laughing, evidently delighted.
Soon enough the group had reached the hall with the bedchambers, and the two couples were pushed into their respective rooms, everyone laughing and shouting at each other. Penelope breathed a sigh of relief—now she just had to try to convince everyone to go back to the party.
This proved as difficult as she had feared.
"Iphthime, why are you still throwing nuts at me, stop it—" Penelope batted her sister away.
"I do agree with you that this is weird," Achilles was saying to Ajax, "but for me it's just the fact that Agamemnon's involved, that would upset me no matter what—"
"Shit, Diomedes, you spilled wine on my feet—"
"It's because Ajax keeps bumping into me—"
"But I'm over here!"
"Not you, I meant Little Ajax—"
"Girls!" Penelope rose her voice, trying to get the attention of her female cousins and sisters. Hopefully the men would follow in the process. "Let's go back to the party. If we go back now I'll let you do whatever you want and I won't tell on any of you."
This was a very compelling offer. The girls considered it. "I don't know…" They were murmuring amongst themselves.
"We can all dance!" Penelope tried to sound as enthusiastic as possible. "Doesn't that sound nice?" She turned to the assorted men, giving them a meaningful look. Clytemnestra was right: they would likely go along with whatever she suggested.
Odysseus was looking at her knowingly. The other men nodded politely, muttering vague agreements, following her lead. The effect was somewhat marred by the drunken expressions on many of their faces, but it was good enough.
"So you'll dance with us, Penny?" Iphthime smirked.
"Uh, I don't think that's what I said—"
"It is kind of exactly what you said," Odysseus cut in, eyes twinkling. Penelope widened her eyes at him, pressing her lips together.
"It's what I heard!" Iphthime grabbed Penelope's arm and started pulling her out of the hall, everyone else following. Penelope sighed inwardly. At least her strategy had worked.
"One dance, Iphthime," Penelope insisted as the hoard rushed back to the party.
The festivities were being held throughout the palace's large banquet hall and the many outdoor courtyards. Once they returned, Penelope took another swig of wine while they waited for the current song to end. Iphthime went around, gathering various other girls to take part in the dance. The party was loud and hot, the music and conversation and moving bodies inundating Penelope's senses.
Odysseus was looking at Penelope with an amused expression "Excited to dance now?"
"I want to pay my debt quickly," Penelope answered, a hand on her hip.
"I'm excited to watch." He grinned. "And I didn't even have to persuade you."
"You do seem to have a knack for getting your way." She handed Odysseus her goblet as Iphthime pulled her into the circle of girls, ready to begin the dance.
She knew that Odysseus really was watching her as she began to dance. Rather than making her feel nervous, she found herself liking the feeling of his eyes on her. She spun in the circle, twirling with her arms raised above her head, moving in time to the melody. The other girls were smiling and laughing, and soon enough Penelope found that she was, too. Sometimes she would catch a glimpse of Odysseus as she was spinning, and she saw that there was a small smile tugging at his lips as he watched her. Penelope felt more and more confident as the dance went on, and by the time it was over she was breathless and giddy.
Iphthime pinched her arm when it was over and said, "Was that so hard?" Penelope laughed but shook her head, and then she made her way back to Odysseus.
He handed her back her wine and she took another long drink. "Oh," she said, looking into the cup after she was done. "It's empty."
Odysseus laughed.
"What's so funny?"
"Nothing, nothing," he said, still laughing.
"What's so funny!"
"It was just your face."
"What's wrong with my face?"
"Absolutely nothing is wrong with your face."
Penelope felt herself flush even further. Odysseus reached out and touched her hair. She started, but then realized he was removing some of the nuts and berries that had lodged themselves there earlier.
"Oh, thank you," she said, as he continued to pick the remnants out of her updo.
"Of course." When he was done, he let his hand linger for a moment, brushing the back of his fingers against her hair.
They were very close again—this seemed to keep happening, and Penelope wasn't quite sure how, but she knew she felt an urge to gravitate towards him. They were standing directly in front of each other, certainly not flush, but quite close. Odysseus was not the tallest of the men, nowhere near the real giants like Big Ajax and Menelaus, but he was much taller than her, and she found herself craning her neck to look up at him as they stared at each other. People were swarming around them, talking and laughing, but she almost felt like she was alone with him in that moment.
"You look really lovely tonight," he murmured. His green eyes were fixed on hers. She could feel his breath on her face. He smelled like wine.
"I don't think you've ever complimented me like that."
"Really? I do it in my head all the time."
"That's funny. You're so good at talking."
He smiled slyly. "You're right. I should voice these thoughts more often."
"I wouldn't be opposed."
"I don't know. Some of them might shock you."
She felt a rush at his words.
Before she could respond, her cousin Polydeuces was suddenly at her side, throwing an arm around her shoulders. "Empty cup?" he prompted. She laughed, nodding. He filled her cup with the wine jug he was holding and gave her a peck on the cheek.
"Sorry to ruin the moment!" he chirped, and with that he moved on.
But then other men were sidling up to them, jostling Odysseus and ribbing him in vulgar, masculine language about his behavior with Penelope. She grinned, enjoying the scene and Odysseus' exaggerated, long-suffering expression.
"That was nice what you did for your cousins," Patroclus said to Penelope as Odysseus bantered with the others. "Beddings are always weird."
"Oh, well, it was the least I could do," she said with a smile. Patroclus smiled back.
"Is he bothering you?" Diomedes asked Penelope loudly, gesturing to Odysseus, who rolled his eyes. "We can totally get rid of him for you if he is."
Penelope laughed. "I don't think that's necessary."
"Well, just say the word," Diomedes said into his chalice.
"Has Odysseus made any big gestures to prove his love for you?" Big Ajax prompted. "Tokens of affection?"
"Mm, I'm not sure I'd say that," Penelope mused. "Could you give an example of what you mean?"
Odysseus gave her a look and she smiled back at him, impish.
"Hm, I don't know." Ajax pondered. "He's always making shit—maybe like some furniture or something."
"Ah, no. Odysseus has not yet gifted me with any pieces of furniture."
The assorted men laughed loudly. Odysseus shook his head. "Ajax, you fucking idiot."
"Hey, don't call me an idiot—you're the one who should be making her furniture or some shit. She is pretty hot."
Odysseus put his hand on Ajax's face to shove him away as everyone went on laughing.
Penelope drank more of her wine. Listening to the men banter, she suddenly realized how hungry she was. She hadn't really eaten anything earlier, and probably all the wine she'd drunk didn't help. As Odysseus was pulled deeper into conversation with the men, Penelope decided that a journey to the kitchens for a snack sounded like a great idea. Catching Odysseus' eyes, she smiled before moving to slip away. Odysseus looked like he wanted to say something to her, but it was too late. Penelope traipsed away, figuring this would be a good test of just how much he wanted to find her.
Ten minutes or so later, Penelope was leaning against one of the counters in the kitchens, eating bread and cheese, when Odysseus rounded the doorway, wine cup in hand.
"Ah. There you are."
Penelope swallowed her mouthful, suppressing a grin. "How'd you find me?"
"Old-fashioned investigative work." He shrugged, walking towards her with that confident stride of his. He was really such a bastard.
"I'm sure you were very subtle." She popped a grape in her mouth.
"I noticed you didn't eat much at dinner."
"You were watching me?"
"Always." He stopped in front of her, just this side of too close once again, putting his cup down on the counter behind her.
"So." She struggled to keep a straight face. "Are you gonna make me some furniture?"
He cracked a smile. "Of course, if you want." He leaned forward, bracing his hands against the counter on either side of her, boxing her in.
Brazen, she raised her face towards his, looking him directly in the eye. The wine definitely helped. "What will you make me?"
"Hmmm." He hummed, eyes darting down to her lips and back to her eyes. "What about a bed? We'll need a marriage bed."
Penelope licked her lips and Odysseus' eyes darkened. "A bed works."
Suddenly, Odysseus was placing his hands on her waist and lifting her up. She gasped, and he sat her down on the counter in front of him, coming to stand between her knees.
"I saw you watching me too," he said, face inches from hers.
"Maybe you saw what you wanted to see." Penelope braced her hands behind her on the counter.
The corner of Odysseus' mouth twitched. He was gazing at her with full eyes. "I've wanted to do this all night…"
He brought a hand to her cheek, leaning forward to kiss her—
"Wait!"
He stopped. "What's wrong?"
"I'm… not done eating." She smiled apologetically. She wanted him to kiss her—she wanted much more than that. But she felt nervous, even if it was mainly in an anticipatory way. She wanted a few moments to get her bearings. And she really did want to finish eating her cheese.
He laughed, pulling back. "Okay." He stole some of her bread, ripping off a chunk with his teeth as he assessed her with a bemused expression.
She chewed thoughtfully. He was still standing between her knees, and she was glad for the slight contact.
"What about your mother?" Penelope asked suddenly.
Taking a swig of his wine, Odysseus looked at her over the rim of his cup. "What about her?"
"Well, you told me about your father before, but you didn't say anything about your mother."
"I'm fond of my mother. She's a clever woman."
Penelope supposed that was good, that he liked his mother. She nodded, taking another sip of her wine.
"You know," Penelope started, aware that she had to be careful to enunciate her words now, "my mother is a naiad."
Odysseus grinned at her, seemingly very amused. "Is that so? I didn't know that."
"It's why she's never really around… You know how naiads are."
Odysseus nodded sagely. "I suppose it's unlikely I'll ever meet her then. But you could meet my mother. She's not a naiad, so she's not so flighty—well, Hermes is her grandfather, but I guess that's enough degrees of separation for her to be pretty reliable."
Penelope laughed. "I think I'd like that." She took the last bite of her bread and cheese, drinking in Odysseus' patient face as she chewed and swallowed. Slowly and deliberately, she brought her hands up to his chest, resting them gently there. She played with the fabric of his tunic, avoiding direct eye contact.
Odysseus looked down at her hands. "Done eating now?"
She bit her lip, nodding.
He put his hands on her hips, moving in to kiss her. Their lips brushed and she giggled.
"Shhh," he whispered against her mouth. He slanted his lips against hers and—
"Ah!" someone cried. They sprung apart. Penelope looked past Odysseus to see Castor in the doorway, eyes wide at the sight of them.
"My, my, my. Penelope, I am shocked!" he exclaimed, clearly delighted. He covered his eyes with his hand exaggeratedly, grabbing a couple of wine jugs off the counter. "Don't mind me, don't mind me, just stocking up on provisions—carry on!"
Penelope sighed. "We should go back to the party."
"Alright," Odysseus said. He pinched her chin and kissed her once, firm. Breaking the kiss, he helped her hop down off the counter, steadying her. She felt weak in the knees.
"We'll continue this later," he promised.
An hour or so later, Odysseus and Penelope were sitting outside, drinking and talking, the party still raging around them. Castor was doing a handstand, Polydeuces funneling wine into his mouth as bystanders cheered. Achilles was balancing a shortsword's hilt on his nose, simultaneously throwing darts at apples that Patroclus was launching into the air. Iphthime was sitting on Big Ajax's back as he did pushups, Diomedes shouting out the number with each lift. It was madness.
But Odysseus was just listening to Penelope, who was explaining Sparta's military strengths and weaknesses with a shockingly knowledgeable enthusiasm.
"I mean, of course the footsoldiers are the pride and joy, and the ground forces are unmatchable. But I feel like the lack of a solid fleet presence is a fault that's way too overlooked? Like, regardless of how inland we are, naval stratagem is key. The other kingdoms are bound to notice this if they haven't already." Penelope shook her head and shrugged, taking another swig of her wine.
"How do you know all this?" Odysseus was captivated.
"I pay attention. Men say tons of important stuff around us girls that they don't think we're listening to or will understand." She paused. "I guess I shouldn't be telling you all of this… Different kingdom and all."
"Hey, there's the oath now." He raised his cup.
"Thanks to somebody."
"Mm, yes, whoever came up with that idea was very clever. And probably very handsome and strong, too."
Penelope smiled, rolling her eyes fondly. He couldn't help but continue to gaze at her, enthralled.
"What is it?" she asked with a small laugh.
He shook his head. "I'm just impressed."
"Oh, I really just listen, it's not that impressive—"
"I don't think you realize, Penelope… Plenty of men who are raised to understand this shit have no clue what they're talking about. I mean—" he looked around them, gesturing at the crowd of debauched, drunken princes and kings "—these people are idiots."
Penelope laughed. "They're not exactly at their best right now."
"No, I'd say this is pretty representative of their overall character. Little Ajax is over there playing the stab-between-the-fingers game with a spear—Achilles just accidentally set his foot on fire! These men are supposed to run kingdoms, Penelope."
Penelope laughed even harder at that, harder than he'd ever seen her laugh. She was laughing so hard that she was covering her face with her hands like she was trying to control herself. From this angle, he could see down the neck of her peplos, giving him a really choice view of her cleavage. He was reminded of that first day they played dice, and he once again indulged himself by staring openly at the lovely sight while she laughed, oblivious.
Penelope was really very attractive. And she was nice and smart and funny? Like, Odysseus had basically known all that, but now he was feeling kind of overwhelmed by it, which was not a familiar feeling for him at all. He wanted to kiss her and he really wanted to fuck her, but he also wanted to listen to her and talk to her and shit on other people with her.
Did he love her? Was that what this was? Shit. That hadn't been part of the plan.
Penelope looked up, and Odysseus realized he'd been so distracted that he hadn't guarded his expression in time. Double shit.
"Why are you looking at me like that?" she asked, her laughter turning nervous.
"I like looking at you," Odysseus said honestly. Triple shit. He was just too tipsy and enthralled not to throw caution to the wind. "I think you're beautiful."
She blushed. "Well, there's another compliment you've said out loud."
"If I said every compliment about you that popped into my head it would just be embarrassing," Odysseus admitted. Penelope's blush deepened.
"What, um…" Penelope trailed off, sounding shy.
"What?" Odysseus prompted.
"What, ah, are some of the things you think about me?" she asked, avoiding his eyes. "You said before that some of it would shock me." She pressed her lips together.
Odysseus hesitated. Penelope asking the question was enough to turn him on, but he had to tread carefully. He didn't want to horrify her by regaling her with, say, his recurring fantasy of bending her over the closest available object, pulling her hair and fucking her until she screamed. Nor did he think the image of pushing her mouth down onto his cock was something he should share when she had been so clearly nervous over just a kiss. Ideally, such scenarios would be appealing to her as time went on, once they were married… And that thought was enough to make him half hard.
He cleared his throat, shifting in his seat. Evidently his face revealed something of the direction his thoughts had gone, as Penelope was looking mildly alarmed.
"I think about being able to touch you freely," he said carefully. "I think about making you feel good."
She waited, meeting his eyes.
"I think about making you moan."
She visibly gulped.
Now Odysseus waited, trying to gauge her reaction. Penelope looked around them and then stood. For a brief, horrifying moment, he thought she was going to walk away from him, but instead she came around the table and sat next to him on the bench.
No one was paying attention to them as she reached out and traced the long, rugged scar that stretched from his calf to his thigh. She didn't go any higher than his knee, but it still took all the willpower he had not to grab her and have his way with her then. This was the first time she'd ever really initiated physical contact, and he had to suppress a shiver.
"I've been meaning to ask you how you got this scar," she murmured, ghosts of her fingertips lingering on his knee.
"Boar hunt," he said on an exhale. He grabbed her hand, rubbing circles on the inside of her wrist with his thumb.
Penelope winced sympathetically. "That must have been painful."
"Do you want to take a walk with me?" Odysseus suggested in response.
Penelope bit her lip, looking uncertain. If she said yes then this would be the first time she'd ever knowingly gone somewhere alone with Odysseus.
"Yeah, I do," she said finally.
They walked together to one of the smaller courtyards, far from the festivities. Penelope knew the palace like the back of her hand, and Odysseus suspected that she had led them somewhere that was also far from her family's quarters. The area was dark and quiet, the only light coming from the bright moon and distant torchlights. The night air was hot but not too thick or heavy, and Odysseus felt almost buoyant in the atmosphere, full of wine and anticipation.
Penelope came to a stop beside him, lifting her face to the night sky. "It smells like rain." She inhaled deeply and smiled.
Odysseus brought his hand up to her face, stroking her cheek with his thumb and dipping his fingers into her hair. "Penelope."
"Yes?"
"I'm really gonna kiss you now."
She licked her lips. "Okay."
"Like, really kiss you," he said. "I'm gonna kiss the shit out of you."
She was mid-giggle when he crushed his lips against hers, tilting her head back with his hand. He hadn't been kidding, even if he had been trying to amuse her with his choice of words: he slid his tongue into her mouth, not holding back at all like he had before, and he ran his free hand down her body. He pushed her backwards until her back hit the courtyard wall, pinning her there as he kissed and groped her. She gasped into his mouth and he felt his dick twitch.
They were in the shadows, totally concealed, and Odysseus was confident he could touch her without fear of anyone stumbling upon them. He dragged one hand down her side, coming to squeeze her ass, and fondled her breasts with the other. Running his finger over a nipple, he felt it pebble through the fabric. She whimpered and he groaned.
"Odysseus," she moaned. She was running her hands through his hair, drawing her fingernails across his scalp and then down his neck and to his back.
"Yeah," he muttered, kissing her neck. "This is what I think about."
She moaned again.
"Yeah, just like that." He licked at her collarbone, working her nipple between his fingers. "That's what I wanted to hear." Penelope keened.
This really was the reaction he'd been wanting from her. He was totally hard now, erection rubbing against her belly through their clothing, and he pressed forward harder in order to increase the friction.
"Wait—" she started, tensing "—you know I'm not going to—you know. Right?"
"Yes, yes, don't worry, I know." Odysseus pulled her lips back to his, giving her what he hoped was a reassuring kiss. "Don't worry," he whispered against her mouth again. "We can do other things."
Penelope clutched his shoulders, body relaxing. She kissed him back with feeling.
Odysseus wedged his knee between Penelope's legs, nudging them further apart. He pressed his thigh against her cunt, half-supporting her weight as he settled her center onto his leg so that she could grind down onto him.
He thought she might be more surprised, but Penelope moved intuitively, moaning at the sensation. She wrapped her arms around his neck, grasping his shoulders as she rutted against him, Odysseus setting the tempo with each press of his thigh. Her forehead was resting against his shoulder as she whimpered and moaned quietly.
"Gods, I want you," he rasped against her hair. I've never wanted anyone this badly in my life.
"Can I…" Penelope trailed off, uncertain, dragging one hand down his chest suggestively.
He took her meaning—or, at least, he hoped he did. Taking her hand in his, he brought it to the outline of his cock. She grasped it through the cloth and he kept his hand over hers, guiding her motions as she stroked him.
"Is that good?" she asked quietly, voice hitching as she ground against him. He caught her lips with his in answer, kissing her passionately.
Penelope was grinding against him more and more vigorously, and Odysseus had to brace an arm against the wall to keep them steady while she moved. She moaned into his mouth and then suddenly her whole body shuddered, hand stilling on his cock.
She slumped forward, head against his chest, breathing heavily. Odysseus hadn't really expected her to come like that, and certainly not so quickly. So he was feeling a little surprised and a lot pleased when she huffed into his tunic.
"I'm sorry." She sounded abashed. "That was embarrassing."
"Sorry for what," he muttered, cupping her face in both his hands and kissing her roughly once more. "You don't have to be modest with me when we're like this."
She flushed. "I'll keep that in mind," she murmured, stroking a finger down his face. "I hope there's more like this."
"There will be," Odysseus swore, feeling more determined than ever.
Penelope was looking down at where her hand was on his still-hard dick, seeming as though she was about to resume her movements, when they suddenly heard voices from not far off. They each perked up, freezing as they listened carefully.
"Iphthime," Penelope whispered, recognizing one of the voices. "She's probably looking for food, we're not far from the kitchens." She shook her head, irritated.
"Should you go?" Odysseus asked quietly. It was the last thing he wanted, but he feared they'd come to that point of the night.
Penelope looked at him, conflicted. "I should probably start rounding the girls up… But you—"
"I'm fine," Odysseus said, removing his leg from between hers and straightening up. He found he respected Penelope too much to try to persuade her to stay and jack him off in the open courtyard—something about that just seemed wrong.
"But I want to—"
"You will." He grinned, trying to smooth down her hair and clothes where they'd mussed and rumpled them. "Trust me, Penelope. I have lots of plans for us in that regard."
Penelope smiled back, an attractive blush at her cheeks. "Well… Think of me," she said, eyeing his crotch.
He gave a rough laugh. "Yeah, I can promise you I will."
It had started to drizzle when they went to part ways. Odysseus caught her hand and pulled her back into a final, ardent embrace, kissing her long and deep. Once they pulled apart, their fingers tangled together and lingered until they went in their separate directions.
After he took care of himself but before he passed out, Odysseus thought: sure, it'd be a huge blow to his ego if he didn't win the race. But more than that, he'd be really upset if he couldn't marry Penelope.
and so, a little godly intervention never hurt (except for when it hurts very, very much)
Athena always kept tabs on Odysseus. He was one of her favorite mortals to come along in centuries. He had important things ahead of him, and the more good choices he made now, the better. So naturally she'd been paying special attention to these recent developments.
Penelope seemed like a prudent girl, and Athena loved prudence. She'd make a suitable wife for Odysseus: loyal but clever enough to keep him on his toes.
But her father really was doing his best to throw a wrench into what should have been a simple situation. This race development was particularly annoying. Odysseus had a chance of winning on his own, assuredly, but Athena had heard from Hermes that Icarius had been a prize runner in his day, and, well. Athena didn't like playing with odds.
And Odysseus had been a very good boy lately, leaving offerings at her temple nearly every day. Sure, he was laying it on a little thick (he didn't have to be so obvious), but she was fond of him, and she did approve of this match. Having a good partner was important. She didn't even want to entertain a scenario where he had managed to win Helen. Athena shuddered at the thought. What a mess.
So, with a little help from Hermes (he was Odysseus' great-grandfather, after all, and the Olympian who was the swiftest of foot; and besides, they shared an office space), Athena may have rigged things just a little bit. Maybe! Who's to say.
and so, odysseus wins because that's what heroes do (and maybe some divine intervention was involved)
What more is there to say?
Odysseus won the race; not in a landslide, but decisively enough for everyone to wonder why they'd ever been worried.
Penelope stood at the sidelines with her family and the guests, clutching both Helen and Clytemnestra's hands where they were hidden in the folds of their gowns. As she was wearing a veil that day, Penelope's expression was difficult to read, but when Odysseus crossed the finish line, she squeezed her cousins' hands.
Later that day, managing to catch each other alone in the hall for just a moment, Odysseus lifted Penelope's dark veil and kissed her. But they were quick and discreet, and not even the servants caught them.
and so, comedies end in marriage
Their wedding was much like Helen and Clytemnestra's had been. Well, maybe it was a little less extreme. People were still recovering from that shit show.
It was agreed that the usual ceremonies would take place at Tyndareus' palace, and afterwards Penelope would travel to her new home on Ithaca with Odysseus. Everything was to be provided by Tyndareus, the usual customs acknowledged, and most of the original group of suitors were still there and had decided to stay in attendance. Again, why turn down more free wine and food and an excuse to party?
The first day was more emotional than Helen's and Clytemnestra's had been, though. It hadn't really been a farewell with them; but with Penelope it was—she was leaving for another island, another kingdom, and they had no idea when or if they'd see each other again. Neither Clytemnestra or Helen were particularly emotional people, but they were clearly sad, and Penelope felt genuinely choked up. The rest of the family was emotional too, all the other siblings, cousins, parents, uncles, and aunts—but the three girls had been a unit since they were young, close in age, wit, and beauty. It was a genuine farewell.
Icarius was resigned to the whole thing now, he had to be. He'd tried to convince Odysseus to stay and live in Sparta with them, like Agamemnon and Menelaus, but Odysseus wouldn't hear it; he was eager to return to Ithaca. Icarius' way of coping with this seemed to be to avoid Penelope as much as possible. But she couldn't worry about that too much—she'd find a moment with him before leaving.
Penelope didn't really see Odysseus much at all before their wedding because of all the ceremonies and rituals. When she did finally see him on the second day, the day of the ceremony and bedding, she was almost giddy with excitement. She wasn't sure how well he could see her face under the wedding veil, but he grinned when he saw her, and her heart clenched.
The ceremony and feast and dancing went by in a blur, and soon enough it was Penelope's very own bedding. No one even tried with the whole bedding procession for them, though—Icarius' now-famed, terrifying demeanor where his daughter was concerned quickly shut that down.
Clytemnestra and Helen had been overjoyed to share their own sexual experiences with Penelope, giving her advice and insight, but on the whole assuring her that she should have a fun time. For whatever reason, Penelope chose not to confide in them about her experience with Odysseus the night of their weddings. Maybe it was because it was just hers, and she didn't want to share it with anyone else.
Once they were alone in their bedchamber, Odysseus removed Penelope's veil slowly and deliberately, placing it on a table beside them. Ritually, this made them truly married.
"There," he said, bringing up a hand to stroke her cheek. "Now it's official."
"Indeed it is." She smiled. "I hope you're happy."
He leaned in to kiss her in answer. It was soft and sweet, no urgency like that night of Helen and Clytemnestra's weddings.
After a few moments they broke the kiss, leaning their foreheads together, their breaths mingling. She was getting used to his smell, and she was rather fond of it. Some mixture of wine and sweat and sea air.
"I have a confession to make," Odysseus murmured, trailing his fingers up and down Penelope's bare arms.
She shivered. "Yes?"
"This is the real reason I wanted to marry you."
"What do you mean?"
"So that I could fuck you, Penelope. I just knew you wouldn't give it up—"
He started laughing as she cut him off with a light slap to the side of his head. Playfully covering his head with his hands, he groused, "You're so violent, imagine what people would say if they knew."
Before she could think of a retort, he was pulling her back to him, fully wrapping her in his arms now. He was so big compared to her, she could melt.
He kissed her deeply, and she sighed into it despite herself, bringing her hands up to grasp onto his shoulders. She was getting the hang of this kissing thing now, and she got a thrill not just from the sensation but from the thought that nothing truly decent could possibly involve this much tongue. Penelope liked lots of things about Odysseus, and more and more she was starting to realize that one of those things was how, sometimes, he made her feel… improper? It shouldn't have pleased her, it didn't make sense, but she found she relished those moments when they were alone, and they spoke or looked at each other or touched in a way that made her feel dirty. It was almost a relief.
Odysseus broke the kiss and brought his lips down to her neck. Penelope remembered the first time he'd kissed her, when she'd been so nervous and unsure, and he'd kissed her cheeks and neck and rested his head against her chest. But those had been soft, almost sweet kisses, and she came to really appreciate the difference now as Odysseus began to trail hot, openmouthed kisses down her neck.
Penelope moaned—oh, it was mortifying, she'd never heard a sound like that escape her mouth, but she had also never felt anything like this. That night of Helen and Clytemnestra's weddings she had at least tried to control how loud she was. Now, the embarrassment threatened to pull her out of the moment—but then Odysseus groaned, fisting one hand into her thick hair and dragging the other down her body to her ass, squeezing her there. He was being even rougher than he'd been before, and it almost hurt, but in a weirdly good way.
Odysseus pulled back and Penelope barely concealed a whine in response. He removed his hand from her hair, still half-up in its braids, and said, "Take it all down, I want to see it." His eyes were dark, and Penelope wordlessly rose her arms to begin undoing her intricate hairstyle, letting the pins fall to the ground unceremoniously. As she worked through it, Odysseus went to work on her ivory peplos, undoing the belt around her waist and the silver fasteners at her shoulders, then pulling the cloth down her body until it fell to the ground, puddling around her feet.
She managed to wrench the last pin out of her hair just as her robes hit the floor, and Odysseus put his hand back in her hair, helping her shake out the long, wavy locks. He smiled at her, an unusually soft smile from him. She was totally naked in front of him, and maybe she should have been nervous or embarrassed or at least a little more modest, but she was none of those things. She was happy and excited and the way he was looking at her made her feel powerful.
Odysseus pulled back slightly so he could assess her more fully. "You're very beautiful, Penelope." His tone was surprisingly earnest.
She beamed at him. "So are you."
He gave a laugh. "You're also very strange."
She laughed too, and then he was picking her up easily, gripping her ass as she wrapped her legs around his waist and her arms around his neck. He tilted his head back so he could kiss her as he walked them over to the bed, depositing her on the mattress only somewhat roughly. Penelope wiggled her body to the center of the bed, and Odysseus watched her as he stood there, undressing himself. In short order he was totally naked, and Penelope had to stop herself from dropping her jaw as she looked at his hard, naked form. He was totally erect—and sure, she had felt it the other night, but this, actually seeing it, was different. Eyes scanning her body, he took his cock in hand and stroked it, groaning, before crawling on top of her.
Odysseus easily moved her around as he desired. Grabbing her waist, he positioned her so that her head was laying back against the feather pillows. "So pretty," he said as her hair fanned out around her, and then he was kissing her and touching her again and working her into even more of a frenzy. His hands were everywhere, his hard cock rubbing against her belly, and she was drawing her fingers across his sculpted chest and back and arms, and it was all just so much. She was breathing almost embarrassingly hard when he suddenly spoke again.
"I've just gotta go somewhere really quickly, I'll be back," he said, moving down her body.
Penelope was confused. Why would he leave now, was something wrong? "Wha—"
Before she could even get out a full word, though, Odysseus was positioned with his head between her thighs, his mouth coming down onto her cunt.
Penelope gasped as Odysseus began licking and sucking at her there, placing his hands on the insides of her thighs to keep her legs spread. If her noises when he'd been kissing her before had been embarrassing, she didn't even want to think about how bad it must be now. As he went on, he added fingers to the mix, pushing one and then two inside her carefully, moving them in and out in rhythm with the movements of his tongue.
The sensation was unfamiliar, the stretch a little uncomfortable at first, but quickly enough she was gasping and moaning and telling him not to stop, and he was murmuring against her, "Yeah, yeah, you like that, don't you," and she was babbling, "Yes, yes, yes," over and over again.
Some distant part of her mind knew that he wasn't just trying to make her feel good, but that he was stretching her, trying to get her ready for him—and it was working. There was a familiar pressure building, one Penelope knew from private moments and that night with Odysseus' knee between her legs. When Odysseus added a third finger, she was so wet and close to coming that it wasn't uncomfortable at all, just a pleasant fullness. All at once it was too much and she was crashing over the edge, moaning his name, one hand fisted in his hair, holding his head in place, the other covering her eyes. This orgasm was much stronger than the hurried one she'd experienced with him before. She was begging him not to stop, she could hear herself as if from afar, and she could swear that he was smirking against her as she came.
"You're bad, aren't you?" Odysseus teased as Penelope caught her breath, shaking. She couldn't possibly flush any more than she already was, nor could she manage a proper response, so she just huffed and then hummed "Mmmm."
Odysseus worked his way back up her body, kissing her breasts and neck and mouth. She wrapped her arms around his broad back, loving the feeling of him on top of her.
"We're not done yet," he rasped into her ear.
"Promise?" she whispered back, delighting in his look of surprise at her boldness.
Then he was sitting up, putting his hands under her ass to pull her down the bed a little farther, kneeling between her thighs. Penelope wrapped her legs around Odysseus' waist, the movement feeling natural, and he brought his fingers back to her cunt. Moving them deftly, she was reminded of working at her loom, and she smiled up at him. He smiled back, and something about that, it endeared her so much—she didn't know, but suddenly she was reaching towards his cock, grabbing it tentatively in one hand and giving it an experimental stroke, trying to mimic the motion he'd shown her the other night.
Odysseus made a sound deep in his throat. She felt shy but she plowed onward anyway, repeating the motion a few more times as he watched her with lidded eyes. She tried to strike a more confident rhythm and he nodded in response, reaching out to squeeze her tits, pinching her nipples and causing her to gasp.
Penelope realized that Odysseus liked this—not just her touching his dick, obviously, but her inexperience, coupled with her curious enthusiasm. The look in his eyes whenever she made a noise of surprise before, or now when she seemed unsure in her movements, gave him away. He was clearly very turned on. She suspected the very typical male part of him liked that he was taking something no one else had had, but in large part it was clear that he enjoyed experiencing this with her, learning her body as she learned his and so much else besides. That made her feel bolder, and suddenly she remembered something she and the girls had talked about… And so she sat up, bringing her mouth down to the head of his cock and licking there with the flat of her tongue.
"Ah." Odysseus inhaled sharply. Penelope took genuine pleasure in the knowledge that she had surprised him with this move. She didn't really know what she was doing, but his response was the most enthusiastic yet. Still gripping his shaft, she brought the tip inside her mouth, experimentally swirling her tongue around the head. She looked up at him to gauge his reaction and saw that he was looking at her with a strangled expression.
"I think you're a witch," Odysseus managed, and Penelope would have laughed if his cock wasn't in her mouth.
Odysseus tangled his fingers in her hair, gently guiding her head up and down. She was grateful for the direction, and she began to take the thick length in and out of her mouth slowly, back and forth, trying to hollow her cheeks and suck.
"Penelope, you're going to kill me." Odysseus groaned, heading falling backward momentarily, face turned towards the ceiling. "Your father will be overjoyed." Penelope wrinkled her nose at the mention of her father.
Odysseus laughed and guided her mouth off of him with careful tugs at her hair. "That's enough of that for now," he said, kissing her soundly before pushing her shoulder so that she fell onto her back again. He hoisted one of Penelope's legs up and over his shoulder, kissing the inside of her knee as it settled there. Penelope was really starting to understand what Helen had meant when she'd told Clytemnestra that she liked Menelaus because he looked like he could "really throw her around."
Grabbing her hip to hold her in place, Odysseus positioned himself at her entrance. She practically gulped in anticipation, trying not to tense. The girls had told her tensing up didn't help.
His eyes met hers as he began to push inside of her. She'd never seen him look so serious. She wanted to touch his face, but she couldn't reach it in their position.
There was a slight shock of pain and Penelope cried out a bit, but then he was pushing through it and she was gasping breathily until finally he was all the way in. He stilled, giving her time to adjust. She brought her hand to her mouth, biting the fleshy part of her palm. He watched her with sharp eyes, rubbing circles on her hip with his thumb.
He brought his other hand to her cunt, stroking her gently there, and— oh. Giving some shallow, experimental thrusts at her reaction, she moaned outright, and he grinned. She nodded to encourage him further. He started to pull out more fully, thrusting carefully but deeply. Quickly the pain was gone, almost without her even realizing, and she was moaning and gasping, telling him to keep going. Her reactions were really getting out of hand, she thought distantly, but Odysseus seemed to like it.
"Ah," he breathed, smiling at her in a way that simultaneously turned her on even more and made her heart clench. "I knew you'd be fun."
Penelope didn't know what to say to that, but she flushed at the praise. He liked her encouragement, so she swallowed any remaining modesty, saying, "I've never felt anything like this. It feels so good…"
"Yeah?" His eyes were dark with lust. "Let's make it feel even better."
Odysseus placed his hand underneath the knee of the leg that was slung over his shoulder, gripping it firmly. Pushing her leg forward, he shifted the angle of their bodies somewhat—and in doing so, he started really fucking her. Going hard and fast, Penelope clamped a hand over her mouth to keep from being too loud, crying out with each thrust. Odysseus was more vocal now too, groaning as he fucked her, eyes flicking back and forth between her face and her breasts.
"Gods," he was grunting, "fuck, you feel so good." Penelope loved watching him lose control like this, his usual composure totally gone. She loved looking at his face and arms and chest while he fucked her, watching the muscles in his abdomen ripple and tense as he moved. She wanted to touch those muscles, so she did, reaching out and running her hands up and down his chest, dragging her nails lightly.
Odysseus brought his hand to her face in response, running a calloused thumb over her bottom lip. She touched his thumb with the tip of her tongue, and he dipped it between her teeth. She bit gently. He groaned.
As overwhelmingly good as this faster, rougher rhythm he had struck felt, Penelope wanted him closer, wanted to feel him totally against her. So she tugged at his arms, trying to tell him that way. He got the message, swinging her leg off his shoulder and coming down to lay on top of her, supporting his weight on his forearms.
She immediately caught his mouth in a kiss, and he slid his tongue against hers. He pinned her arms above her head, holding her wrists down. She moaned into his mouth as his hips snapped against hers, hitting a spot deep inside of her that made her want to scream.
He went even harder and faster then, his thrusts becoming more erratic. He was groaning and whispering filthy praise into her ear, telling her how wet and good she felt, how close he was, and Penelope wanted to see him fall over the edge. She wanted to feel it. He clearly liked her responses, he had told her not to be modest with him, so she totally let herself go, moaning and saying, "Yes, yes, please," over and over.
That was all he needed, and he thrust one, two, three more times, burying his cock inside her and coming with her name on his lips.
Odysseus slumped on top of her. Penelope didn't want him to pull out yet, so she wrapped her legs around his waist. She sighed happily, relishing the feeling of his weight on her.
"Yeah," he mumbled into her neck, breathing heavily. "You're welcome."
She laughed outright at that, tightening her arms around him. He chuckled and kissed her hair. His back was slick with sweat and his beard was scratchy against her skin and she just loved it—she loved him.
"I love you, I think," he said against her hair, almost disbelieving. "So weird. That definitely didn't factor into my plan." He exhaled a laugh.
Penelope's heart felt like it was going to explode. Had he read her mind? "I think that too," she said softly.
"Well, actually, I know, I don't think. I know that I love you," Odysseus replied. "So, I win."
Penelope smiled. "Of course you win. You always win. My husband."
Odysseus pulled back to look at her. His eyes were thoughtful, and Penelope could see the quick mind working behind them. Was he unsure of how she felt? Was he waiting for her to say it back? That didn't seem like him.
"I love you, too," she said, just in case, reaching up to stroke his cheek. "Isn't it obvious?"
"Nothing's obvious with you, Penelope. You're slicker than me." But he was smiling a happy, genuine smile. He pecked her on the lips and rolled onto his back, pulling her to his side. She rested her head on his chest with a sigh.
"Don't fall asleep just yet." He tickled her waist. "I've got more plans for the rest of this night."
She laughed against his chest. "I wouldn't dream of it." And she settled in for a night full of Odysseus' plans.
and so, it's the day after
When her father saw her the morning after, he looked like he might either burst into tears or beat Odysseus to a pulp—or both. Did she look different? Did she seem different somehow? She wanted to go to him and promise that nothing had changed, she was still his daughter, but Odysseus suggested some distance might be a good idea. She conceded that he was probably right.
"I have never met a man who cares so much about his daughter," Odysseus told her. "It's almost scary."
She gave him a look. "I'm sure you'll care just as much about your daughter someday, if you ever have one."
"Our daughter," he reminded her. "Maybe that's what I'm afraid of. We should stick to boys."
"I'll just order one up for you, shall I?"
"Diomedes did tell me you could weave anything."
"I'll see what I can do," she quipped.
As the third day was mainly filled with gift giving and even more ceremonies, Penelope spent most of her time sitting next to Odysseus, chatting like this. At one point, her family members were supposed to present her with gifts symbolizing her transition into womanhood.
Helen gave her jewelry, some of her own pieces that Penelope had always liked best and occasionally borrowed. Penelope was genuinely touched, embracing her cousin.
Helen hugged her back tightly. Mouth next to Penelope's ear, she whispered, "How was the sex?"
Penelope tried to keep a straight face. "I understand what you meant now about Menelaus being able to throw you around," she whispered back.
Even though she couldn't see her face, Penelope knew Helen was smiling. "Right?"
Clytemnestra was up next for a ceremonial gift. She offered Penelope yards of expensive, emerald green silk for weaving. "Green's always been your best color," she said matter-of-factly, also encasing Penelope in a tight hug.
And then she immediately started whispering about sex.
"Is he good with his hands? He seems like he'd be good with his hands."
"Oh, my gods, you guys know I'm not leaving until tomorrow, right? There'll be time to talk about this stuff tonight—"
"Just answer the question before we've been hugging for too long!"
"Yes, yes, he's good with his hands," Penelope relented. She bit back a grin. "And his tongue."
Clytemnestra had to pull back then, but she fixed Penelope with a wide-eyed look of shock and delight that perfectly well communicated what she was thinking: We will be discussing this more later .
Penelope did have the chance to gossip more with her cousins later, and she was glad for the time with them. But in all honesty, she was most excited to get back into bed with her husband.
"I'm kind of sore," she admitted as he held himself over her, kissing her breasts leisurely.
"Mm, that makes sense after last night. My apologies," he said, licking a nipple.
She gasped but managed to say, "Especially after… Well, remember when you had me get on my knees—"
"I remember very well."
"—and then you took me from behind, yeah."
"Oh, I was there."
"That was quite an end to the night."
"Mm." He grinned up at her. "That was your favorite, wasn't it?"
"Perhaps," she said coyly.
"Well, I'll be very gentle and careful tonight," he murmured against her skin, trailing his kisses down to her navel. "This may be a good opportunity to practice your oral skills."
"Oh, public speaking?" she quipped.
"No, I think you've got that down pat. I'm considering putting you in charge of Ithaca's armed forces. Tonight I was thinking more technique with the tongue."
"Ah, I see. And you're willing to submit to this experimentation?"
"I'll admit you're a natural, but practice makes perfect and I'm willing to sacrifice a few—oh, I don't know—hours of my life in order to get you to that level of perfection I know you're striving towards."
"How noble of you." She brushed a curling lock of black hair behind his ear as he worked himself even lower down her body.
"Indeed," he agreed, settling between her thighs, mouth hovering over her cunt. "But ladies first."
and so, old homes are left for new ones
Driving in Odysseus' carriage away from the home she had known all her life, Penelope resisted the urge to look behind her. Which explained why Odysseus noticed the chariot fast approaching behind them before she did.
He let out a sigh. "Your father really is relentless." He let go of her hand as he turned fully in his seat, squinting at the approaching figures.
"What?" Penelope turned too, seeing that her father was behind them. "Oh, no."
Odysseus had the carriage brought to a stop as they waited for Icarius to pull up beside them.
"Father—" Penelope started.
"Penelope," he interjected. "I know it's probably no use, but I had to try one last time. I know I'll never see you again if you leave—I just know it. Odysseus, my offer still stands for you to live here, in Sparta, with us."
Odysseus shook his head. "I'm sorry, but I've already made myself clear." His tone was polite yet firm. "My place is on Ithaca. And I'd like for Penelope to join me there, as queen."
Icarius sighed, turning to his daughter. "Penelope… You can still stay. You don't have to leave all of us. You don't have to leave your family."
Penelope was at a loss. "I can't just stay now—"
"Penelope," Odysseus interrupted. She could tell he was exasperated, but when his eyes settled on her they were soft. "It's up to you. But you have to decide now. Right now."
Icarius seemed surprised by Odysseus' words, too. He turned back to Penelope, waiting expectantly.
Penelope searched Odysseus' face, but he was composed, unreadable. She looked to her father, feeling almost overwhelmed by the feeble hope she saw in his face. She didn't really want to leave her family. But she'd never met anyone like Odysseus. She'd never met anyone so like herself, anyone who seemed so interested in her. She felt like he understood her.
She wanted him to be her family. Odysseus already talked in that way, telling her about his parents and teasing about future children. She couldn't just stay after all of that…
"Father…" Penelope reached out to take his hand and he grasped hers firmly in return. She could sense Odysseus' eyes on her, and she felt him shift in his seat when she grabbed her father's hand.
She looked down at her lap. Slowly, she brought her other hand up, above her head, drawing her veil down and over her face, until she was fully concealed.
The men understood perfectly well what this meant. Odysseus cleared his throat and Icarius lowered his head.
Her father held her hand for a second longer, squeezing it once and then letting go. "You've always been a good girl, Penelope."
After a few more moments, the carriage began moving again, and Penelope glanced behind her to see her father's chariot retreating back to the palace.
Odysseus reached out to take her hand in his, lacing their fingers together. Moving closer to her, he lifted her veil. He looked at her for a moment before kissing her softly. She kissed him back, and he wrapped an arm around her.
She leaned her head against his shoulder. He kissed the top of her head.
"I hope you're not sad," he murmured.
"I'm fine. I just wish everyone could be happy."
"But are you happy? I don't care about other people."
"Yes, I'm happy." She smiled to prove it.
"Good. I also have a dog. Did I tell you that? He's young and not well-trained, but he's very cute and loyal."
"Mmm. Tell me more nice things."
"Well, we'll arrive at the ship not long from now, and be on our way to Ithaca. And I don't know if you've ever had sex on a ship—"
"Obviously not."
"—but it can be very fun. All the rocking." He nodded knowingly. "Let's hope you don't get seasick."
"Fingers crossed."
"And when we get to Ithaca I'll show you my bow."
"Is that a euphemism?"
"Yes and no. You're already acquainted with one of them—" he winked "—but I do have another bow, in a stricter sense. One with real arrows, not metaphorical ones."
"Why do you want to show me that?"
"Because it's very difficult to string and shoot and it's quite impressive." He sniffed. "And seeing me do it will undoubtedly make you even more attracted to me."
"I see, I see. Anything else?"
"Well, your father is probably erecting a statue to modesty in your honor as we speak. So you can rest assured the poets and singers will remember you."
"That does put my mind at ease."
"It should. You have no idea how much time some of us spend worrying about that. You've got it all under wraps before the age of twenty."
She laughed. "I'll remember to count my blessings."
"And I will build you that bed we talked about," he added, voice softer now. He looked down at her. "Really. I like the idea of a bed that's just for us." He brushed his thumb across the back of her hand and she hummed happily.
"Now," Odysseus said, turning fully towards her. "Let's talk more about that ship sex I mentioned. It's very important to me so I want to make sure you're fully prepared."
Penelope settled in, feeling genuinely cheered. She listened to her husband as he went about entertaining her. She felt content in the knowledge that she was heading to what would be her new, simple life with Odysseus. She was excited to see his home, to meet his family, to come to know the people and place that had formed this man.
Later that night, Penelope was in and out of sleep as the ship to Ithaca rocked gently on the waves. She had discovered that yes, ship sex was fun, and no, she did not get seasick. All positive outcomes. The movement of the ship comforted her in just the way Odysseus had described to her at length. She found herself dozing off even though she wasn't especially tired.
"Penelope." Odysseus' lips were at her ear, his naked body pressed against hers in their cool bed. He chuckled at her sleepiness. "You really are just like me." He nuzzled her neck with his nose.
She hummed. "That's why we get along."
Even in her half-lucid state, Penelope could tell Odysseus was watching her in the darkness.
"You've surprised me so much," he murmured.
"Really?" Penelope yawned. "You're exactly what I expected… What I hoped for."
"What do you mean?"
Penelope exhaled dreamily. "You're so silly sometimes… Wasn't it obvious I wanted you? I always wanted you, always, even before you noticed me. I knew exactly what I was getting." She rolled onto her side, tangling a leg between his and resting her head on his chest. "Now shhh . You have the rest of our lives to interrogate me. Sleep with me now."
He was silent for a while. Eventually he chuckled softly, stroking her hair with his hand. "You wouldn't prefer a battalion of suitors, like Helen?"
"You're more than enough work. All those men… Exhausting." I want a simple life with you, she thought again, drifting off.
He pecked the top of her head. "I'm sure nothing ahead of us could be any more dramatic or absurd than the events of the past month."
And with that, they floated home to Ithaca, buoyed by the sea and lulled into deep, heavy slumbers.