Odysseus ducked.

Penelope and Odysseus hadn't really stopped fighting since their engagement; it was only their tones that changed. At their happiest, they were debating some minor point of philosophy, usually one they generally agreed on but had somehow managed to turn into an argument nonetheless; at their sweetest they were softly arguing, between kisses, which of them was the luckier of the two; at their most serious they argued over financial and political matters concerning Ithaca, which Penelope had come to love almost as fiercely as Odysseus did. Never in their year of marriage had either raised their voice in anger at the other, and whether happy, sweet or serious neither of them could have been accused of being irrational.

Penelope calmly reached for the nearest heavy object and took careful aim.

"Penelope, I really don't think—" Once more, Odysseus ducked.

"No, you don't think, do you? Because maybe if you had for a second I wouldn't be in this horrible mess, would I?"

"You realize, of course, that you're being ridiculous?"

"What part of 'Get out of my room' was confusing?" Penelope wasn't shouting yet, but she looked murderous and her breathing was shallow.

"If you must know, it was the 'my room' bit, seeing as how this is my kingdom, my palace, and, most importantly, my room. Furthermore, if you think I'm going to leave at this of all moments—"

"If you tried you couldn't be more infuriating right now!"

"I don't see how shouting is going to accomplish anything."

"Get out, you pompous, arrogant—"

"That's enough! I've indulged your stubbornness far more than any other man would his wife, I think I've been more than reasonable during this childish little tantrum of yours, and if you persist in attempting to order me about in my own bedroom, I will-ow!" Odysseus was interrupted, quite suddenly, by a smack upside the head.

Euryclea glared at Odysseus. "I remember when you came up to my knee; don't think just because you're taller than me you get to start misbehaving now."

"Have all women gone mad?"

"Will you please remove him from my sight before I rip his throat out?" Penelope growled.

"Of course, dear." Euryclea turned her attention back on Odysseus. "Were you yelling at her?"

"I…well, I…that is, I mean, she…now, see here, I won't stand for this kind of treatment from you or her!"

Penelope glared. "And he insulted me! Twice!"

"You're being absurd!"

"You're being an ass!"

"You insolent—"

"Egotistical!"

"Harpy!"

"Enough!" Euryclea slammed down the towels she'd been carrying for emphasis. The two were both red in the face and out of breath. Euryclea took advantage of this to shove Odysseus out into the hallway and shut the door behind her.

"Don't worry, I'll tell you when it's safe to come back in."

"I refuse to be ordered about like this in my own home! And furthermore—"

Euryclea patted Odysseus' shoulder. "No arguing. Go read or something." Without another word, she slipped back into the room, leaving a stunned Odysseus to stare at his bedroom door. He swore softly and began to pace.

A few hours later, Euryclea stuck her head outside. Odysseus was still pacing, and still swearing; he looked up when the door opened.

"How is she?"

"Perfectly fine, like I told—"

Odysseus pushed past her and rushed to the bed. Sweaty and exhausted, Penelope looked up and gently smiled as Odysseus leaned over and kissed her forehead. Penelope began to whisper, "I'm sorry about—" but Odysseus put a finger to her lips.

"All my fault," he whispered back. Penelope laughed softly.

"The first and last time I hear you say that, I'd wager." Still smiling, Penelope gently handed Odysseus the small bundle in her arms. Odysseus looked down at it in terror.

"Well, don't look so happy." Penelope seemed amused at Odysseus' discomfort.

"Take it back. I'm going to break it. Look at it; I didn't know they made things this small."

"He," Penelope corrected gently. "It's a boy."

Odysseus sat down next to Penelope and she leaned against him. "Came out kicking and screaming, he did. He's a warrior. Like his father."

"Telemachus."

"Telemachus, hmm?" Penelope looked at her son, and then leaned up to kiss her husband. "I like it."