Chapter Text
Telemachus followed his father a little suspicious of the motive. They reached a more isolated side of the island, walking through the sandy beach. He was glad that he at least wasn’t expected back on the training grounds. He had enough of nerves for that day.
His father’s eyes were lost in the view of the endless sea in front of them. “Was Eurylochus a bad teacher?”
He shook his head. Eurylochus wasn’t a problem here. “Did you train together as children?”
Odysseus’s head moved somewhere between a nod and a head shake. “Not really. We grew up on different islands. And I had a… special mentor, one would say.”
Telemachus hummed, aware there were rumours of his divine teacher. “I heard stories,” he said instead. “That mother used to wield a sword too. Never had a good moment to ask her, though.”
Odys laughed at that mention. “Oh yes, she… You should’ve seen her sparring with Clytemnestra in our youth.”
“I’ve never seen her near a weapon.”
“She gave up training when we married. Decided to focus on more feminine arts. Not by my words, of course.”
The silence fell upon them after that. The view in the early evening was breathtaking for Telemachus. With a corner of his eyes, he looked upon his father, reigning king of Ithaca, but he eyed the landscape with something more of a disgust.
“When we stationed on the Trojan shore, we would keep close to a beach like this,” he revealed. “I hated it. Each time I saw it I could only think of Ithaca. Have I told you this before?”
“You don’t really talk about the war,” Telemachus pointed out. “So no, you haven’t.” At the lack of continuation, the prince turned slightly to face him more. “I would like to hear the stories. If you’re willing to speak about them.”
“I… There isn’t that much to tell, really.”
“Ten years of the Great War and you have no stories to tell, really, Father? I may be young, but I’m not stupid.”
His father observed him with a gleam in his eyes, one that Telemachus had a hard time unravelling. “I don't think you're ready.”
“I know that I’m ready,” the Prince snapped back automatically.
“Let us make our way back home,” Odysseus said, placing his hand on his son’s shoulder. “I didn’t want to go.”
“I know,” everyone was always reassuring him about that. “It was an oath, wasn’t it? You were risking ending up in Tartarus for breaking it.”
“A stupid oath,” the King admitted. “But necessary for everyone to make their peace about poor Helen’s chosen spouse. And for me to court your mother.”
“What about King Agamemnon?”
At the roll of his father’s eyes, Telemachus forgot that question.
“He was there, that was difficult enough. My point-” He didn’t finish the sentence. His eyes focused on something behind Telemachus. The prince turned and looked around searching for something suspicious. The only living thing present with them was an owl sitting at the edge of the green area.
“I’m having a feeling you wanted to tell me something earlier.”
“Did I? Ah, yes. I wanted to. There was a man there, his name was Patroclus.”
“Prince Achilles’s most loyal friend?”
After a 5-second long series of blinking Odysseus snorted, “Sure, a friend. Why not? Anyhow, this man, he had that little talisman, a childhood toy I saw a couple of times. He was a kind man. Had a good, pure heart. He was merciful.”
“Ruthlessness is mercy during war,” Telemachus recited.
“Yes, but, just like me, he didn’t want to be there. We both shared our suffering.”
“Did he leave his family too?”
“Okay,” Odysseus let out a sigh. “I cannot do this anymore. Patroclus and Achilles were lovers.”
“Oh.”
“Yes, oh. But, after his death, he left the toy behind. A little wooden horse. I used the design. We fooled the Trojans. And conquered the city. Diomedes led the charge. Agamemnon flanked the guards. Menelaus let our mates through the gates to take the whole city at large. Tеucer shot any ambush attack. And Little Ajax stayed back, much to his dismay. Nestor secured Helen and protected her. Neo avenged his father, he killed the brothers of Hector.”
“I heard that one,” the young man reminded him. “I was hoping you would-”
“A saw a vision there.” That made Telemachus listen with curiosity. “A man, I thought it was Prince Hector himself, resurrected. He was fighting with me. Then his spear went right through… right through my throat. My body was so weak. Then I heard a voice. I think it was Zeus," he hesitated, "the King of the Kings. He said I had to kill my enemy’s son. A foe who won’t run. I… I thought he meant one of Hector’s brothers. That they would fight until their last breath. I was ready for a fight.” He paused to swallow more saliva. “When I entered the room. There was no foe. No one to fight. I… It was Hector’s tomb. I expected… I didn’t-”
The prince stopped walking, his body refusing to move. “You found a child,” Telemachus blurted out, cutting him off mid-sentence. The realisation hit him only after stating the obvious. “He’s the Trojan heir.”
“Scamandrius is your brother-”
Suddenly Telemachus felt a sensation inside of him, which quickly made its way to the surface as a loud, insane laugh. His arms shot into the air. “It explains everything! You didn’t care about him more than about your own son! You were just making sure he didn’t kill us in our sleep,” his voice dropped into a growl. “And here I thought you just loved him more.”
The Prince began walking once more, heading to the palace. Until Odysseus’s voice halted his movements. “I didn’t kill him because of you.”
“Excuse me?” He was getting tired of his father’s constant games.
“You both were infants. When I took him to throw him over the balcony… I couldn’t help but think of you. I-I kept thinking about you that night, the last time I held you before departing.”
The balcony reminded him of his father’s first night in the palace. It made so much sense.
“But what if he will grow up and hate us? Use your wits to try and say I'm crazy and mad. That this is all some trick the gods have sent! But... didn’t you think of me and Mother? About our lives?”
“I’d make sure Scamandrius was loved, that we were his family-”
“He already had a family, Father. A father who was killed by Achilles. A mother, too, am I right?”
“Neo killed her. Revenge for his father.”
“You should’ve killed him.”
Telemachus never saw such an expression on his father’s face, but he remained unfazed. “Ruthlessness is mercy,” he reminded him again. “Maybe it was better to reconnect him with his family.”
“You don’t mean it,” Odysseus was slowly turning cold.
“I need to think.”
“Your father is known for being stubborn,” were Eurylochus’s first words to him. “I heard about your quarrel. I’m sorry.”
He found Telemachus on the training grounds. It was the middle of the night, so the Prince could indulge in complete silence. Well, before Eurylochus had joined him.
“You should’ve stopped him.”
“I tried. I offered to do it if he didn’t have a heart. He refused.”
“So he chose that child over his family's life?”
“You won’t change the past,” his uncle breathed out. “You have to aim for the future.”
At that moment Telemachus didn’t really consider those words.
“Did he send you to find me?”
“No, he just said that you know.”
“Tsk,” Telemachus placed his hands on his hips. “I hate this. This uselessness I feel now.”
Eurylochus thought for some time before speaking. “Maybe some time away will do you some good. You could learn a thing or two during such voyages. You could visit some neighbouring kingdoms. Talk with the kings, princes, or princesses. You could rest from your worries.”
“I’d like to talk to Mother, first.”
But the proposition seemed interesting enough for him.
Telemachus stood in front of his parents’ chambers. His hand hesitated on the door. A part of him wanted to talk to Father, and the other wanted to talk to Mother first. He listened to the sound of a sleeping palace. Some seagulls on the outside. Whispers of the guards and servants roaming around the house.
On spur of moment, he heard a different noise. Something little but light. At first, thinking it was Argos hoping to lay with his parents, Telemachus crouched placing his elbows on his knees. Unexpectedly, the little creature turned out to be Scamandrius. The boy stopped abruptly upon noticing him. In the darkness of the barely lighted corridor, the Ithacan heir only saw the outline of his little body, as he made a few steps backwards, to half hide himself behind the corner.
“I saw you, Andrius,” the young man said, a little annoyed at crossing paths with that child at this particular moment. “What do you want?”
The child stayed silent, but in the lack of sounds, Telemachus could clearly make out the quiet weeping from the kid. Letting an irritated sigh, he moved closer, which only made Scamandrius move backwards.
“C’mon, kid, work with me,” his tone was as calm and gentle as he could dig out of his throat. “Did somebody hurt you?”
His shoulders relaxed when the trojan’s head shook.
“I… I want M-mom and Dad,” he whispered with breaking words.
“They’re asleep.”
He looked unbothered with that information. “I had a bad dream. And I… I always go to them when I do. Daddy asked me to. He has them, too. Many nights, he says.”
“And what were you dreaming about?”
“I can’t tell you,” the boy was moving his head to observe the surroundings. “Daddy said I can’t tell anyone. Only him and Mommy.”
Now, that was strange.
“Did you dream about a different place?” He kept asking. “About someplace other than this palace?”
The boy nodded, eyes lowered. Then he came closer and when Telemachus thought he wanted to go past him to the chambers, Scamandrius stopped right in front of him. His little arms opened and he looked at him expectantly.
Not in the mood for playing a brother, Telemachus awkwardly let the kid hug him. The child’s hands closed into fists on his back, holding the chiton’s fabric tightly.
“I saw a horse,” his voice barely a whisper. “It was made of wood. It was swallowing me.”
That made Telemachus freeze. Terrified, he took Scamandrius by his shoulders and pushed him, almost gently, off him. “What else?”
“Nothing.”
“You sure? Think about it, it’s important.”
His head kept shaking ‘no’. Telemachus swore under his breath and ran his hand over his face.
They stayed like this for a minute before Scamandrius’s weak voice brought the older Prince out of his mind. “Do you hate me, Machus?”
He bit the inside of his cheek. The true answer was a little faded in his mind. “No, of course not.” Not so much. He was more afraid Scamandrius would hate him in the future. And his family. His parents consumed by age, with their throats impaled on a Greek spear held by a Trojan boy-
“You were really mean today,” he pouted, tears mainly forgotten.
“Well, we all have our bad days. How about I take you back to your room, hmm? We will talk with Mother and Father tomorrow, okay?”
“Can I come see you train tomorrow?”
“Yeah, sure,” not really happy about it, but Telemachus didn’t want to upset the child further.
They began to slowly walk towards Scamandrius’s room.
“Can Anticlea come too?”
It’s been a while since he saw his cousin, so he nodded.
“Yesterday Momma said she has a name after our grandmom. Did you meet her?”
“I’ve seen her quite frequently, yes. She was a wonderful person.” She would’ve loved that Trojan boy, she would greet him and Father with open arms.
“I’m sad I’ve never seen her,” Scamandrius’s brows met above his nose. “Polites says family is important, right?”
“Of course.”
Telemachus would protect his family. At any cost and from everybody who would pose a threat. No matter the nationality. No matter the age.