Odysseus had imagined his Penelope birthing his sons back when they were first getting to know each other but nothing had prepared him for joy in knowing she was pregnant with his child. He loved touching her stomach more than ever, and to his delight, her breasts were also growing. Better yet, Penelope seemed to enjoy his touches just as much, as her eyes always sparkled, and her face shone brighter than Apollo when he did so.

They both knew that what was between them was so much stronger than any spell, even by the powerful Aphrodite.

But Odysseus also found Penelope sometimes tried to be too strong for her own good. She may not be one of those Spartan women who were more male than female, but she'd clearly been taught never to show weakness. It was impossible for Penelope to admit when the pregnancy made her feel sick or weak.

One morning, she vomited all over the breakfast table.

The servants immediately got busy cleaning it, while Odysseus escorted his wife to the bathing chamber. "Why didn't you stay in our bed if you didn't feel well?" he said, shaking his head.

"I'm sorry, Odysseus," Penelope said with a sigh as her handmaid assisted her in removing her vomit-stained robes. "I thought if I ignored the sickness, it would go away. I cannot spend too much time in bed, less people think I am weak. Besides, I have a lot of weaving to do today."

Odysseus paused to admire her growing breasts, as they peaked out of the bathwater. Then he said, "People won't think you're weak if you need to spend time in bed, they will believe you are taking care of yourself, as you should. And if you wish to weave, we could have your loom moved to the bedroom."

But of course, Penelope wouldn't let Odysseus have her loom moved to the bedroom.

Not even on the day she felt so dizzy she had to clutch to her loom with both hands to keep from fainting. Odyssues found her sitting at her loom one afternoon when he'd returned from visiting the swineherd, and he leaned over to touch her stomach and kiss her lips.

"Why are you so tense?" he said as withdrew from his kiss, feeling her strained shoulders with his fingers.

Penelope's eyes sparkled at him, but she shrugged. "I'm all right." But her hands gripped the loom as if she were drowning in Poseidon's Sea, and the loom was her only salvation.

Odysseus huffed at her obvious lie. To him. "No, you're not, or you wouldn't be holding on to your loom so tightly. What is wrong?"

At that, Penelope's face broke. "I'm sorry. I just a bit worried that I'm going to faint, but I know if I hold onto the loom, that won't happen. I'm not weak or fragile, Odysseus. I can't be." Tears filled her eyes as she spoke those last words.

Pulling her into a hug even more powerful than his mother's, Odysseus said, "Penelope, you're not weak, you're pregnant." His hand reached between their bodies to touch her stomach. His other hand caressed her shoulder, which was still far too tense for his liking. "And we will bring your loom into the bedroom so you can weave from the bed if you need to do so."

He started to lift her, intending to carry her back to their bed, but Penelope refused. "No, Odysseus. I will not spend all my days in bed, pregnant or not." Still, one of her hands clutched the loom, indicating she felt faint.

"Will you at least let me tell the cook to get you a drink and something to eat?" Odysseus said. "Perhaps then you will feel better."

Penelope beamed brighter than Apollo at that suggestion. "Yes. I think that would be a good idea." And Odysseus's heart soared.

OOOOOOOOOO

But both Penelope and his mother also thought it would be a good idea to hold another festival to celebrate the birth of the child. In some ways, Odysseus agreed. He could hardly wait for the birth of his first child, which might even be a son. And he'd love for everyone on Ithaca, and indeed, everyone in Greece to celebrate with them.

If only planning the festival wasn't more stress on his Penelope. Visions of her becoming sick, feeling faint, and weeping in his arms flashed through his mind, almost without his permission. Especially with how much Penelope's stomach had been growing lately. The doctor said she had been pregnant for almost six months now. And she and Mother discussed the food, minstrels, and guest lists every day over breakfast. Odyssues, meanwhile, made certain their cooks provided Penelope with extra food and drink throughout the day. But every evening his mother and wife argued about which types of food to serve.

"… And I definitely think we need more olives for the festival," Penelope said, as she popped one in her mouth. She'd been eating them more and more in the past month, Odysseus had noticed. "Everyone I know loves them."

Mother shook her head. "No, ten bowls of olives should be enough, especially as the festival won't occur until after you give birth," she said, chuckling as Penelope ate two more olives at once. "And most people I know prefer olive oil to fresh olives." To prove her point, Mother dipped her bread in the oil before popping it in her mouth.

Penelope simply smiled and ate another olive, as if she knew Mother would change her mind eventually if Penelope was patient. At least she showed no signs of sickness faint. On the contrary, her beautiful breasts and plump stomach practically invited his touch, especially with his Penelope smiling that way.

His wife may not have been so masculine she won Olympic competitions, but she was mentally strong enough to not let things like festivals bother her. Perhaps there was more benefits to marrying a Spartan woman than Odysseus had realized. He grinned as he stroked her stomach, thinking how lucky he was to feel himself falling more and more in love with his wife as he continued learning new things about her.

The baby moved underneath his hand, and they both laughed and kissed each other with delight. There was no way what was between them was only one of Aphrodite's spells.

Still, Odysseus would have to explain to Mother that Penelope could wait forever to get her way if she needed to do so.

OOOOOOOOOOO

Two months later, Odysseus and Penelope reclined on their bed while they still waited for their child's birth. "Why isn't he born yet?" said Odysseus, sighing as he touched Penelope's round tummy. The baby kicked in response, and Odysseus could even feel the shape of a foot. "He's clearly ready."

Penelope laughed, making her face glow in the soft light of the oil lamp in the corner. "Just because you think he's ready doesn't mean he actually is. And remember I told you when we met that sometimes we don't have a choice in waiting." She reached over and touched the curls on his beard. "This is such a time."

Odysseus huffed. He still hated waiting, but his wife's warm touch on his skin helped a little. He placed his own hand on top of hers, encouraging her to continue her caresses. "How do you know he's not ready, anyway?" Odysseus said, half looking to learn more information and half looking for the opportunity to prove his wife wrong.

Shaking her head, Penelope kept caressing his beard. "Oh, Odysseus, what am I going to do with you? I know because your mother tells me you were quite a bit bigger than this before you were born. I know because the doctor tells me I should have at least another month before I give birth. I know because I haven't felt any sharp pains as I'm told I will when the child is ready. And I know because I haven't felt Artemis's presence yet."

Odysseus paused, searching for loopholes within his wife's words. Penelope was the smartest woman he'd ever known, so he had realized before he'd asked it would be difficult to find weaknesses in anything she'd said. But he hadn't realized she possessed quite so many reasons why their child couldn't be born yet.

Never mind how difficult it was to argue with her when her warm hand still touched his beard, and her full breasts were so near him.

Caressing her warm breasts, Odysseus said, "Well, if you put it that way. But sooner or later, my boy and I will outsmart you. Two against one, you know."

Penelope's lips touched his, causing another one of their famous explosions. "I like to think I could meet the challenge," she said when they finally withdrew. The oil lamp caught her face more directly, and her eyes shined. His Penelope's eyes always sparkled so when she'd won another intellectual contest or when Odysseus and Penelope had exchanged an intense kiss.

Right now, her eyes shined brighter than Apollo, as she'd just done both. And it made her appear more beautiful than ever.

Odysseus caressed her breasts with even more intensity and went in for another kiss himself. At least he could still do that if he had to wait for the baby to be born.

OOOOOOOOOO

Somehow, Odyssues made it to the day when the baby was finally born.

"Here is your son, sire," the palace doctor said, placing the round baby with wisps of dark hair in his arms.

Odysseus cuddled his son, marveling at how small he was. Was the baby even the length of his arm? "He's perfect," Odysseus said, unable to take his eyes off the tiny boy. Thank you, Artemis, he prayed, grateful that his son had been born healthy.

"He is, isn't he," said Father's voice coming in from behind Odysseus. The older man's voice was full of the same awe that Odysseus felt. Then Father said, "He should be called Telemachus," and touched the baby's wisps of dark hair.

Odysseus's quick brain immediately saw the problem with that. He shook his head, turning his son away from Father. "There must be a better name for him than 'far from battle.' My son will not be a coward, and I refuse to have his name imply as much." He'd teach his son to face challenges head-on, rather than run away, and to hold his own with a weapon. A wide smile spread across Odysseus's face as he pictured himself instructing his son how to use a sword and a spear.

OOOOOOOOO

But Penelope flashed a wide smile at the idea of the name Telemachus. "It sounds as if he'll be safe to be 'far from battle," she said her head still resting on her pillow, as the labor had taken so much of her energy.

How could Odysseus argue with her when she looked like that? And yet… "He'll have to be King of Ithaca someday. A king cannot run from battle."

Penelope still smiled, showing her teeth. "Telemachus won't necessarily 'run from battle', Odysseus." Her eyelids slid down but Penelope forced them back up as she spoke. "He just won't seek out fights needlessly. And perhaps he'll solve said battles from behind, with strategy." How could she sound so wise while she was clearly barely able to keep her eyes open?

"All right," Odysseus said leaning over for a kiss as closed her eyes. His heart overflowed with love for this woman. A spell by Aphrodite didn't even begin to cover the depth of their relationship. "Telemachus it is. But I'm still going to teach him how to use a sword and a spear. He may need it someday."

For now, he quietly walked out of their room, as she had to recover from the birth, whether she liked it or not.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

OOOOOOOO

A month later, Penelope had finally convinced Odysseus and her in laws that she'd recovered from the birth. Better yet, the doctor agreed with her. It was time to celebrate Telemachus's arrival.

All the Ithacans eagerly crowded around the palace and the streets, enjoying wine, food, and dancing. The air smelled of grapes, roasted boar, and of course, olives, all essential for a good festival. Penelope's family also visited, eager to see her new son.

"You'll be king of this place someday," she told her son as she cuddled the guest of honor while the crowd talked, laughed, and sang in the distance. "And I'm certain you'll be a great one." She sipped her wine.

Father walked purposely towards her, his long legs standing out in the crowd. "He's a fine boy," he said after studying his grandson for several moments. "Bigger than I expected. Perhaps he'll be stronger than I thought. Especially – "

Penelope wouldn't let him finish. Insults to her husband or her son weren't to be tolerated. "Father, we've been through this. Odysseus is stronger than you gave him credit for, as he did beat you in that footrace." Father opened his mouth, but Penelope shook his head, knowing exactly what he planned to say. "And before you talk about his name, Odysseus worried it might make him seem weak too and is determined to teach him how to fight with a sword and spear. Besides, a man can use strategy to win a battle from behind."

Sighing, Father said, "I can never win an argument with you, Penny." But he smiled and touched Telemachus's little cheek.

Penelope sipped her wine again as he marched off towards the food tables.

Her cousin, Clytemnestra came forward after that, cradling her own baby, who was a couple months older than Telemachus. "This is Chrysothemis," she said with a smile. The baby had a whole head of bright orange hair and seemed to babble constantly.

The chatter, laughter, music, and even the smells of the festival seemed to disappear as Penelope focused on the cousin she'd grown up with, and bonded through new motherhood.

"Nice to meet you, Chrysothemis," Penelope said, shaking the baby's little hand. The baby babbled away, clearly eager to speak to someone new. "I think you'll have trouble getting her to stay quiet as she gets older," Penelope said with a chuckle.

She adjusted Telemachus in her arms and sipped her wine again.

Clytemnestra sat down next to Penelope and nodded. "Perhaps, but that may be a good thing." She sat up straighter, her shoulders squared, and her voice cracked. Her cousin was every inch the perfect Spartan woman that Penelope had always been slightly jealous of in that moment. "There are times when even a lady shouldn't stay quiet."

Then Clytemnestra paused and looked towards Penelope's husband, who hadn't stopped talking for a moment since the party had begun. "And I think you might have to worry about a child who talks a lot, too, if Odysseus is anything to go by."

Penelope shrugged. "Perhaps, but so far Telemachus is rather quiet." She stroked her son's cheek.

"He is a fine boy, either way, though, Penelope," Clytemnestra said, shaking Telemachus's little hand just as Penelope had done with Clytemnestra's daughter. "He looks strong."

Penelope nodded proudly. "I know."

OOOOOOOOOOOO

Eventually, Penelope handed Telemachus to one of the handmaidens. As proud as she was of her son, she wished to eat something along with the wine she'd been sipping all evening. So, she enjoyed roasted boar, bread, and olives. The olives weren't quite as irresistible as they'd been when she'd been pregnant, but they still tasted great.

Penelope popped another olive in her mouth after she finished the rest of her dinner, savoring the music in the air and the laughter of everyone. She and Anticeia had done a great job planning the celebration.

A warm hand touched her shoulder. "Dance with me," Odysseus's voice said from behind.

"Wouldn't you rather dance with Helen?" Penelope said, pointing to her cousin, who may be married, but still had many admirers. And they all wished to move and twirl with her. "She's a better dancer than me."

Odysseus shook his head and pulled her to her feet. "I danced with your cousin enough to understand what I'm doing, and you know there is someone else I'd rather dance with than her." His trademark smug grin was on his face.

Penelope often found that grin endearing, but she still loved a chance to challenge him. "Oh? And who might that be?" she said, looking around the sea of guests with a straight face.

"You know very well who it is," Odysseus said, his smug grin not cracking an inch. He began moving his body to the music.

Moving her body in return, she said, "Well, speaking of things that are already known, my other cousin is certain Telemachus will talk too much when he gets older." She twirled. "Does that sound like someone you know?"

Penelope couldn't help but grin a bit arrogantly herself when Odysseus's smug expression cracked for a moment. Of course, he broke into a laugh after that. "Maybe," he said, purposely not confirming he knew who she was speaking of, just as she'd done when he told her there was someone, he'd rather dance with than Helen. They both adored how well they could understand the other's challenges.

Then he wiggled his body closer to hers as they danced, and all Penelope could think about was his arms brushing against hers and his breath tingling against her cheeks. It was indeed a wonderful celebration.

OOOOOOOOOOO

A few months later, they people of Ithaca celebrated their new King and Queen.

It was surprising. Penelope had known this day would come, as soon as she'd married Odysseus, but she'd always thought this honor would be another thing they would need to wait to receive.

"You don't need us anymore," Odysseus's parents had said firmly. "You and Odysseus can clearly hold your own when it comes to decisions. Penelope, you have planned several festivals in the last year. And now that we have our dear Telemachus as an heir, our line is secure."

"And I've been looking forward to abdicating for a couple of years now," Laertes had said with a sigh. "There is a wonderful cottage in the vineyard where Anticeia and I could live." He had a faraway look in his eyes as he said that, as if he longed for such a life more than Penelope had ever realized. Was being king more of a burden than she'd could see right now?

It mattered not, because Odysseus had nodded, as if he'd known this day was coming. "Of course, Father. So long as you allow us to visit, along with Telemachus." Then he'd kissed Penelope, filling her with his love and strength.

Laertes had picked up Telemachus, who immediately pulled at the older man's beard and babbled away.

Today, Penelope felt proud to stand before the people of Ithaca as queen. Especially as it meant another night of drinking wine, dancing, and eating bread and olives. Most of all, it meant being with Odysseus, whom she agreed wholeheartedly that their bond was stronger than one of Aphrodite's spells.