A sweet whistling tune gently tugged Penelope from her slumber. Opening her eyes, she was greeted with warm morning light and a polyphony of birdsong. A light breeze carried in the faint briny scent of the sea. She smiled and lay for a while just listening. Far below, the rocks thundered as they were battered by the waves.
Eventually she began to stir from the comfortable position she had awoken in. She stretched, reaching her arms into the air until her fingers brushed against the olive wood. The touch of the wood no longer filled her with loneliness. Another healed little piece of life. She let her arms drop back to the bed. Odysseus was not there but that didn't surprise her. His sleep was irregular and he was, as she had learned, an early riser.
Penelope breathed in deeply and exhaled. Again, a little smile graced her lips. Sleeping in like this was so new and felt so lovely. For the past few years she had religiously risen at dawn each day. Dawn had been the haven, the sanctuary from drunken voices and ugly arrogance that had filled almost every other hour of every day. It was only in the last few days that she had begun to sleep through it. It felt like an act of faith to let go of so long held a security. But she didn't need it anymore. Peace now reigned in her home.
Sitting up, she looked around. She noted the small stain of blood on the hem of her clothing and last night came crashing back into her mind. She'd used that to wipe her husband's bloody mouth. Telemachus had attacked him. She brought a hand to her forehead and sighed. Just then the door creaked open and Penelope looked up. A serving girl peaked inside, checking to see if her mistress was awake yet. They smiled knowingly at each other, both simply enjoying the new reality of the palace. Penelope got out of bed and the girl got to bustling around the room.
Penelope entered the hall clothed in a dress of soft blue, her hair brushed and set with fresh flowers. There was a fire in the hearth but no evidence that anyone had yet come to breakfast. She saw no sign of either or husband or her son and the little nag of anxiety sent her in search of them.
Finding Telemachus' door left open brought her both concern and a glimmer of hope. She looked in and found her son's bed empty. It was clear it had not been slept in. Soft voices from outside drew her attention. She stepped into the room, giving herself a line of sight out to the balcony. There she found Odysseus and Telemachus. They were sitting on the stone railing, side by side and facing out towards the sea. Not wanting to interrupt them, not yet anyway, she crept over to stand beside a pillar. By the look of their easy conversation, no one could have guessed at last night's torment. As Telemachus said something that caused Odysseus to let out a clear, bellowing laugh, Penelope's eyes fell shut and she smiled. That sound was like music to her. She rested her cheek against the cool stone and felt as though her heart might burst. Seeing the two of them together like that after the last twenty years, but especially after last night, meant everything to her. She wanted to invite them to come and eat with her. She wanted to walk out, touch both their shoulders and join them. But she didn't. It all felt too sacred. She wanted them to keep this for themselves. Opening her eyes again, she watched Odysseus speak, gesturing with his hands as he did. Telemachus nodded as he listened to his father's words. Gratitude overwhelmed Penelope and tears she hadn't notice welling up found their way down her cheeks. She wiped them away in silence. Then, smiling still, she slipped back into the room and out the door.