Chapter Text
once more - his steps guided him through the same forest, on the same path as just a day before. Avoiding any tree branches to make as little noise as possible. Sure, no one would come into the forest so late, but nothing can really make a habit go away. Especially when you've been doing something for years.
It was fun. Exploring the woods that he knew like the back of his hand. It never got boring. Every time, he felt as if he was a kid again - trying to get away from scolding and randomly stumbling into this forest.
He was thirteen when that happened.
Turns out - accidentally slashing a tapestry that his mother worked so hard for could still get him in a lot of trouble. Even if it wasn't a deliberate move.
He doesn't regret it though. Till this day - he will argue that the tapestry was ugly anyways. Even if he loved every single loom his mother made, that one creation was…unusual in his opinion. It depicted some weird symbols and…just…a man? Was it a man? He never got to know, his mother never mentioned the tapestry ever again. But, he could see how the sparkle in her eyes faded a little. No matter how many small gifts he gave her, the sparkles just never showed up again.
He knew that she hadn't stopped loving him. But, he couldn't shake off the feeling that she - maybe - resented him. There he was every day, walking into her chambers while being a walking reminder of his fathers absence.
He saw it in his mother's eyes. She missed her husband. She missed him greatly. Every day she weaved just to trick the men in their house and give her man more time.
Having spent his whole life mainly around women - he respected them greatly.
His grandmother, his mother, Eurycleia, the girls that became his friends in Dorium, his sister…
Melantho.
He loved her once. She was the older sister he never had. Teaching him what others did not.
It was from whispers - where he found out about her betrayal.
He hadn't talked to anybody for a week. He didn't even talk at all. Each of those days, he just sat in the corner unless someone would decide to drag him to another room - trying to make him smile.
Dirty - was how he felt after that. No matter how much he or someone else scrubbed his body - he felt disgusting. The feeling of hands hadn't left his flesh either. Always following him - no matter where he went.
Especially the slashes on his back.
Anytime he forgot about it - he was reminded again.
And now, as a walking reminder slithered into the halls of his house - how could he let his guard down?
Agaipos - his name was.
A snake - he was.
The whole day of the festival he felt Agaipos' gaze burning into his back. But he never saw the man. He looked in the corner of his eyes, hoping to catch a glimpse of the man to know what he was up to. But, he didn't. He never got to see agaipos after their encounter in the hall. Maybe that was a good thing. But, Telemachus hated not knowing where he was. He knew that the very same man who violated him roamed on the same soil as he does now.
Yet, he was still walking into the woods. Alone. At night.
Not a very smart decision, is it?
Well, he wasn't known for making smart decisions. He was known to be reckless in his childhood. Now, they just knew him as the whore prince. Not even a prince.
But, No one dared to say it to his face.
No.
No one dared to say it to antinous’ whore.
That's how they referred to him - behind his back.
People were too much of cowards to say anything to him while Antinous was next to him. They were afraid of him, perhaps.
‘Who wouldn't be?’ Telemachus thought. ‘He's everything I'm not. feared, favored, strong, tall, cunning, stoic, a king.’
His steps halted as the thoughts covered his mind like a morning mist. His hands clenched, his nails digging into his nails, his teeth biting into his lower lip.
Antinous was everything he never was and will never be. Telemachus wasn't feared by anybody. He wasn't strong in any way. He wasn't cunning, tall, stoic. and he was definitely not a king. He was favored - sure. but, that was by the people who didn't know him. or, who didn't care about him. Their favour of him was just an extension of them favouring themselves in the world. Each of them, gloating how amazing they were as he laid there and didnt even listen.didnt even feel. no one would be able to differentiate him from a dead body at that moment. and maybe,they liked that. a person just taking them without a fuss as they let their narcissistic selves out onto a quiet body. A body who already submitted themselves to pain.
Pain - was what kept him alive through that. the pain of thinking about his mother, melantho and eurycleia. thinking about how they would've reacted when they heard of what he has been through.
they still didn't know. Well, of course they knew how he was made a whore. but they don't know anything other than that. anything they thought about it - was a speculation from them. he didnt tell them. any of them. the person who knew the most was antinous.
Antinous. He knew about the things he went through. Or at least - he was the one who knew the most. The one who Telemachus cried against. The one whose eyes softened at the sight of him. The one who spared him from that torment.
Gods! How did he not notice it beforehand? The softened glances antinous stared at him whenever he thought Telemachus wasn't looking. The cracks in the ‘tough guy act’. How he always seemed to be close to him whenever he wasn't in his room.
‘Maybe, marrying this man wouldn't be that bad of a choice.’ Telemachus thought. ‘Even if I don't love him…I can act.’
The sounds of his steps once again echoed around him as he continued walking.
‘For the kingdom. I will not let his chosen ascend the throne undeserved, they all will destroy the future.’ He kept telling himself. Reminding himself of how the suitors have ruined the island for years on end. He would not let that continue any longer. The second he would have antinous wrapped around his fingers, he would make him kick them out with no remorse. ‘He already has shown… interest in me. might as well use it to my will.’
In theory, this plan was easy : get antinous to marry him, birth an heir, raise the said heir and make sure to get him on the throne. Not very complicated, right?
But,it was. Very complicated.
He had to experience it. All of it. And he didn't know if he was ready for that.
‘ There is no time to get ready.’ Telemachus thought to himself as he walked into the cave once again.
“I accept it, goddess Aphrodite.” He spoke, his voice ringing out into the darkness of the cave.
⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅
“What you did was not wise, Penelope. How can you not understand that?!” Helen shouted to her cousin, her hand running over her forehead as she tried to calm down. “I know that you miss your son. I understand how much you want to see him again. But, it is not that easy after what you have done!”
Penelope’s lips twitched, her hand gripping onto The clumped up thread. She sat still, doing what she was best at doing. Waiting. Waiting for Helen to realize that she wouldn't answer her. And waiting for her to leave.
“I understand your pain, Penelope. I understand how it feels to be separated from your child. But, you can not make such…impatient decisions! Sending threats and disrespecting a king. even if it is antinous you disrespect. it shouldn't have happened!” Helen sighed, taking a step closer towards her cousin. “you are the cunning and wise queen of -”
Before Helen could even finish that sentence, Penelope snapped. her arm swinging - the clutch of threads hitting the wall all the way across the room with a loud thud - startling the queen of Sparta.
“dont you dare say it! “ she sat up from her chair, her gaze glaring daggers into the eyes of her cousin. “I'm not a queen anymore. I am not cunning, I am not wise. All of that was stripped of me when I couldn't protect my own home. My own son!” she shouted, her steps banging onto the stone floor. “There - he sits, in a place he can not even call home because that bitch-of-a-man usurped his father's throne. the throne that one day would have been passed down to him. It was stolen and he had to run and endure every humiliating and the most disgusting things ever just to save his life. and now, he has to stay next to the man who ruined his life, while I'm left here for ‘my safety’.” Her breath hitched as he stood in front of Helen. “Tell me, cousin. How are you ensuring my safety when day after day im becoming less and less of a person i once was?!”
“penelope-”
“must i throw myself at your feet and beg just for you to let me reunite with my son again?!”
Silence fell over the room as the two women stared at each other. Helen - unable to speak, her gaze fixated on the other,not daring to look away. While Penelope bit her lip to refrain herself from cursing her cousin.
Not long after, Helen sighed, turning her back to Penelope. Before walking out of the room, she spoke:
“You can return to Ithaca. We will provide you with guards to protect you if anything happens.”
And with that, she was gone. Leaving Penelope alone.
The woman's knees buckled as she fell onto the floor. She wasn't crying. No, she couldn't bring herself to cry anymore. All the tears dried up a long time ago. Instead, she just stayed there. Her gaze looked at nothing. Her mind scattered all over her soul.
‘I’ve gone mad.’ She first thought.
But, then. She remembered how she could finally go home. To her sweet boy.
The ringing in her ears faded, her vision returning to her when she saw a girl, trying to help her.
The young one kneeled down, her hand extending to hold Penelope's elbow. “My lady, are you alright?” She asked, her voice showing genuine worry as her brows furrowed.
Penelope let the girl lift her from the floor. Then, with slow steps, she reached the bed. Penelope sat down as the girl turned to bring her a glass of water.
“drink, my lady.” She murmured, holding out the cup to the woman.
With trembling hands, Penelope managed to wrap her fingers around the cup and bring it to her lips.
She drank the cool water as if she was drinking lava that burned her from the inside out. with a swift move, she held out the empty cup to the handmaiden, letting her take it away. Just as the girl was about to fill it up once more, she held her hand up.
“It's fine, I want it no more.” she said, her voice cracking.
the young one bowed her head and turned around, her feet already working to leave the room.
“Wait.” Penelope called and the girl halted. “I'm sorry that I haven't asked this before. What's your name, sweet girl?”
the girl blushed at the nickname. Her feet turned, her head bowing once again. “isabela, my lady.”
“isabela…” the woman murmured, as if tasting the name on her tongue. Not a long after, a light smile painted her face. “a beautiful name for a beautiful girl.” she waved her hand, making it known to the young one to sit next to her.
the girl did as she was told. Her face was coated with a light shade of red.
Penelope held her hand as she sat onto the bed, her eyes gazing over the features of Isabela. The girl had a plump, round face. Her skin had a deep rich tone as freckles painted her cheeks and nose. Long braids - tied in a low ponytail fell down her back. Her eyes drooped, giving them a sad look.they glowed like the night sky. so beautiful that a person would find themselves getting lost in them. The red blush adorned her face, making her look like a spring rose. the white and blue robes draped around her body. She had the grace of a princess. Yet, she was the one serving them.
“Where are you from, Isabela?” Penelope spoke. the corners of her lips lifting up as the name fell from her tongue. as if saying it brought her joy.
“Ithaca, my…my queen.” Isabela said, her brows twisting on her forehead as she spoke. Not knowing what reaction she would get from her queen.
The queen felt pride being called that. pride that she hasn't felt in a long time. She realized how different it was to be called a queen of someone and a queen for someone. This girl - who barely seemed old enough to understand why anything happened in the world, who had gone through the horrors of life - believed in her - a woman who couldn't protect anything. This young girl…
Penelope's heart warmed. She felt her throat tighten up as she grabbed the young girl’s hand and held it tightly into hers.
her voice shook as she tried to get her words out. “i appreciate your bravery, sweet girl.” she murmured. “to be ripped away from home at such a young age and still hold your head high. You're truly strong, you know.” Penelope lifted their hands, placing a soft kiss onto the girl’s knuckles. “You remind me of someone. someone I loved dearly.”
Isabela tilted her head, her brows arching. “Who? if you don't mind me asking.” she spoke, her voice flowing in the air like the finest silk.
“a girl.” Penelope sighed, as if speaking about her brought her suffering and comfort at the same time. “I met her here - in Sparta. She wore the bluest robes and the most beautiful smile in the whole world. She wed a man in Ithaca. I never liked him. but…she did what she thought was the best.” a sad smile stayed on her face. “It was the man’s son that took everything from me.”
Isabela frowned, she took her hand out of penelope’ hands.
for a second, the woman thought that the girl had already grown tired of her and her boring life stories. She thought that the person who reminded her of her was going to leave and never talk to her again. She thought that she once again messed everything up.
but, to her surprise, the girl wrapped her arms around her shoulders. just like a child does to their mother.
Penelope shuddered at the feeling, her body freezing for a moment before letting herself melt into the warm embrace. Her arms wrapped around Isabela’s waist, resting her forehead onto the girl’s shoulder. she didn't cry. she just breathed. the mother thought if this was how her son felt when he would fall into her hug - letting her arms swallow him whole.
She missed him.
For weeks she thought that Telemachus was dead. Only for his fate to turn out worse.
Penelope missed her boy. She hated to admit it, but she missed him more than her husband.
Odysseus had been missing for nineteen years now. She started to lose hope of his return some time ago. Maybe he was dead, or alive and just - on the opposite side of the world, with a newly found woman. The war ended nine years ago and no one has heard a word from him. Penelope tried and tried to wait for him. She tried to stay the same woman she was when he left her, but she changed. and she thought, maybe he hasn't returned because he knew that she had changed. Maybe he knew that he wouldn't love the woman she had become. Dark circles coated her eyes, wrinkles cutting her flesh as her once soft hands became calloused by the years of capturing her memories on a tapestry. The time when the suitors stood up against her - she was weaving an image of a rose with a moon on the left side of it and a sun on the right. love being surrounded by mystery and energy. perfection with longing and hope at its sides.
a broken sigh left her lips as she lifted her head from Isabella’s shoulder. “I'm leaving for Ithaca soon. If you want to return to your homeland, I can bring you.” she spoke, her hand caressing the girl’s elbow.
Isabella’s eyes lightened for a second, the mention of her returning to her homeland brought her joy.but, as fast as the light came into her eyes, it went away. “But I have no home, my queen.” she murmured, sadness evident in her tone.
‘neither do i.’ Penelope thought.
she shook her head. “You can live in the palace just as I will.” she said. “Yes, the king may be unkind, but he still has to abide by the rules of xenia. And considering that he had once been a guest for far too long - I don't think he will throw us out, unless he wants to anger the god king." They both chuckled at that.
the girl thought about the offer for a split second, then she said: “my queen, i think that there is a rumor that you should know about.”
Penelope's brows arched at that, concern creeping up in her heart. “What is it, sweet girl?” she asked.
“The maids and the servants talk.” Isabella said as a blush of nervousness coated her face. “there were people that traveled from Ithaca and…they speak of the kindness that the suitor has given the prince.” she murmured. “of how… fondly he has been treating your son…and they say that because of where he came back from - its clear what is the reason of this fondness.”
and once again, Penelope felt like she was going mad. Each word sent a jolt of hatred and agony through her soul. the idea of her son being used once again after what he had just been through pained her. It made her feel like a failure again. It made her feel like a curse that destroyed the lives of people she loved so much. Both of her mothers;her cousins; husband; childhood friend - all of their lives were destroyed because she couldn't help but love them so much. and now, her son -who she loved the most after everything - went through humiliation and pain because of her love.
because that’s what her love is - a curse that destroyed people around her. She felt like a rose - a thing that meant love but hurt people who wanted it.
she felt sick at the thoughts of what antinous could have been doing to her sweet boy. her child. She felt even mad at herself for waiting for a dead man. because, if she just accepted her duty and married one of those men, she would have been one who would go through what he was right now. Even though it made her sick to think about herself loving and laying another, she knew that she would’ve sacrificed it all just for her child to be safe in this world.
Her thoughts made her realize how far a mother would go just to keep her child safe. they would accept pain and humiliation. They would bring destruction and murder - just for their child.
She thought of her cousin - Clytemnestra. She remembered how the sweet girl she once knew turned into a murderous woman because she could not protect her child, so she chose to avenge her instead.
maybe that was what she must do. Maybe, the second she stepped on ithacan soil, she must kill the false king and throw his body to the dogs as their food. But, it wasn't enough for her. He needed to shuffer more. He needed to be in agony for what he made telemachus go though. and she’ll be damned if she did not avenge her child as her cousin did.
⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅
Antinous leaned against a window, his eyes scanning over the yard - where children played dirt, their faces stretched with a wide grin as the atmosphere lightened by their laughter. They couldn't see him, or just didn't pay attention to him.
he didn't do anything else, he just listened and gazed as the children enjoyed being kids, as they yet had to realize how life would slap them in the face very soon. They are children now, children grow up and become adults. But, they never really had time in this place to grow. People just forced them to adapt when they grew up. He knew it well. The second blood shed - they were forced into the shape of an adult. even if they never were one.
A thought crossed his mind : ‘Maybe that's why most of the people are so indecisive. Life never decided for them to be pushed into the role of an adult so fast and they were ripped apart between enjoying what they wanted - like a child, or giving up on any happiness in their life to please others. to make others happy.’
he scoffed at the thought.
happiness - a made up thing it was.
there was no happiness in the wretched world he lived in. not in the world anyone lived in.
he lifted his hand up to his shoulder, placing his finger onto the scarred skin near the collarbone. His nail slid over the skin, grazing it at first. But, at the thought of the past days’ events - the pressure of it deepened, the uncut nail now digging into his skin as he tried to avert his mind to something else. But, every thought seemed to go back to the unsure face of Telemachus when he told him that he loved him. He felt like a maiden thinking about his first love.
Did he even love anyone before Telemachus appeared in his life?
He has thought about it a lot, the hurt and confused face that haunted him.
he expected worse - to be honest. He expected that telemachus would plunge a dagger into his neck. He deserved at least that from him.
Was he even worthy to feel such a pure and raw feeling towards the person who he destroyed?
he looked down at his other arm, seeing the scar running up his forearm a twitch went through his face, a faint smile pulling onto his lips. He remembered that night, when he had telemachus cornered and pinned, only for the wretched creature to slither out of his grip by using Antinous' own dagger against him - slicing a nasty wound onto his skin. a mark from the moment when his view on him changed. From that moment, telemachus was no weak boy - but a brave prince who could endure anything.
He remembered another thing from that night. The hitched breaths of the man below him as they pressed against each other - the clothers between them twisting and messing up. He remembers the lustful moment that was shared between them before Telemachus found a way to get out. He remembers the moans that left the other's lips; how his back arched against antinous and how his hands grabbed at his shoulders. The gazes they shared.
He wondered if Telemachus remembered it too.
a wince slipped from antinous’ lips as his nail made a cut onto his skin. Looking down, he saw the blood dripping down his chest. He got his trembling and bloody hand away from his collarbone and placed it against his other arm. The reddened finger of his now caresses the scar. going from the middle of his forearm to the inside of his elbow. A soft scoff escaped his lips as the image of Telemachus’ worried and teary face flashed through his mind. What was he thinking - both of them.
a chuckle fell from his throat as he thought about the times when he stood in front of this same window for weeks on end - trying to rip the wretched feeling from himself he ached for the other person. It hurt him physically to not have him there - next to him. and now, when he was with him - it still hurts him to the core.
Unlike the skin on his neck, he didn’t slice open the scar with his nail. no, it was too precious for him, he would never dare to do that.
Antinous had many scars and wounds, yet - that thin one was unforgettable. It haunted him in his sleep or any other time.
his lips would always perk up, his eyes softening when he felt the pain of it at some times of the day. He wondered if Telemachus remembered giving him this piece to remember him by before he disappeared to that forsaken city.
Yet, he still forces himself to leave it alone for now. He puts both of his palms on the windowsill and looks out of it again. The kids are still playing. He pays no attention to it and lets his gaze travel to somewhere else and that's when he notices a couple walking up towards the palace. a familiar couple.
light shots through his eyes as the woman looks up at him and gives him a soft smile.
“mother.” he whispers and smiles back at her.
mother waves her hand to him, the man next to her pays no attention to her or anyone else in general, he seemed to be lost in thought as he wore a rude expression.
the woman nodded her head to the side, signaling antinous to greet her at the entrance - which he does instantly.
he rips away from the windows and walks fastly down the halls.
in his way - melantho and eurymachus appear. both of them see his hurried expression, yet - only eurymachus asks : “what is going on?”
Antinous slows his steps. “My mother is arriving.” he said with a soft smile as he saw the two people’s demeanor change and they both followed him.
Antinous’ mother was loved by many others than the man who should have loved her. She was kind and sweet. Yet, sometimes she seemed lost. Her gaze would freeze as if she was thinking about something - or someone.
⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅
telemachus stirred awake. groaning as his muscles ached like it had never before. His eyes opened. Yet, his gaze found nothing other than pure darkness that coated the cave walls. ‘seriously, how dark is this fucking cave.’ he thought as he flipped his head from side to side - still coming around with waking up painfilled - a headache being the most annoying out of them. which was weird because, it was not that anything was done to his head but only…
with the realization of what happened before he passed out - he sat up and was met with the worst pain he has ever experienced. His legs immediately trembled as his sighs and winces of agony echoed through the darkness. The fabric on his clothing pooling around his thighs and burning him. Well, that's how he felt. Too hot. Everything was too hot, and painful.
His hands moved to pull the clothing over his knees, yet, the sudden feeling of how cold his hands were - he gasped, his eyes jolting open, but very soon they closed again. He let out a quiet whine as he felt the fabric touch his skin - the friction making him feel as if someone was grinding into his flesh with a rock.
“F…uck.” He whined as his hands dragged the fabric over his body and threw it somewhere next to him. To that - any other things that were on his body followed.
As he undressed, he realized how filthy he actually was - running around in the forest to come here in - what felt like - the hottest day ever.
He whined as he crawled and searched for the Bowl-like rock that always had been there, just - filled with the water that dripped from the cave walls. The water was not clean enough to drink, but it was enough to clean himself with.
He cried out as his hands hit something solid - his knuckles feeling like someone had just stomped on them. But, realizing that he had found the damned rock - a small feeling of relief washed over him, he pulled himself closer to it and dipped his hands into the cool water. A sigh fell from his lips as the cold sensation sent shock waves through his body. Without missing a second, he palmed the water and poured it onto his face.
He repeated the motion - cupping out the water and cleaning his hair, neck, chest.
Telemachus flinched as the cool water hit his back, a sharp yelp slipping from his throat. His hands wiped the sweat and dirt from his upper body - yet avoided his back. Because he did not feel like stretching his hands for it, nor did he want to touch his back.
His body trembled as the cool water caressed his skin. His hands went down his legs, wiping off any of the dirt on his calves and ankles.
His heart quickened as his hands slowed down. His hands washed the skin of his hips, avoiding touching anywhere close to the changed flesh. He didn't even know how to feel about it, what he was supposed to do now.
Telemachus just laid there for some time before cupping out the water again and pouring it onto his lower stomach. The cool droplets removed the feeling of being burnt up as he sighed.
He repeated it once more. Letting the water flow onto his body.
A sudden gasp left his lips as the cold liquid ran down his thighs, finding its way into his core. His breaths came out ragged as the relief of it sent a shock wave into his hips, making his legs freeze for a moment.
He laid there once more, not letting his body experience any other feeling than the burning sensation and the ache he felt.
Then, he brought his knees up. His hands cupped the water once more. He trembled as he spread his legs - not because of the pain. But because of the shame he felt. He lowered his hands as he poured the water down his core, the frozen feeling making him arch his back.
A moan ripped from his lips - which he quickly covered with his other hand.
God, his hands felt so cold. Cold like…his.
He remembered the times when antinous touched him. Not lustfully. Just touched him. He remembered how his calloused hands wrapped around his wrists, arms, neck…waist.
Fuck. It felt so wrong and so weird to think about it.
Before he could even think about anything, his mind brought him back to that night - where he kissed him. An outburst feeling Telemachus had - that resulted in him kissing antinous. The sudden kiss that turned into them ravishing each other.
The reminder of that memory made his stomach feel knotted as he felt his new cunt throb at the thought of the man.
A smile painted his face. He moved his hand that covered his mouth, his fingers now pressing down onto his lips.
The other hand made him shiver as it moved downwards. A moan left his lips as he felt his middle finger rub against his clit. But, he didn't stop there. Bringing his fingers down, he finally felt the wetness and the heat that consumed him. Strings of moans and whines left his throat as he rubbed his finger against his core - his thighs tightening around his hand.
He thought of antinous again. He wondered if this was how it would feel like to finally have the man inside him. Would it feel weird and good? Or would he actually make him see stars.
He imagined how it would feel like to be consumed by him in the future. He imagined him. As if antinous himself loomed over him and actually showed his love to him.
A gasp ripped from Telemachus’ throat as he finally inserted his middle finger into his cunt. The coldness of his finger bringing pleasure to his hot core. His back arched, bringing his core closer onto his finger.
He knew some things about what he was doing. Yes, it was his first ever time having a cunt. But it was not like the girls in the brothel kept their words clean. They talked about it. And sometimes - he listened. He didn't know why, but he did. They talked about some men that actually had sex with them instead of fucking them in full detail.
His thighs rubbed together as he quickened the pace of his finger, a choked moan leaving his lips. His other hand moved next to him, the fingers twisting into the fabric that was thrown on the floor earlier -needing to grip onto something.
The moans and whines that ripped from his lips echoed through the dark cave. He brings his finger deeper into his cunt as it coats with the wetness that has left him.
Without thinking further, he inserts another finger into himself - making his back arch more than before.
With that, he fastened the pace of his fingers. Breathy whimpers left his lips as he felt a knot forming in his lower belly. His thighs squirmed, his hips bringing it selves down deeper towards his hand. His other hand tightened its grip on the clothes.
He pressed his lips together, imagining that he was back to that same night where his and antinous’ mouths shared a moment. When they ripped themself away from the world and any other thoughts than hunger for each other. He loved and hated himself when reminding himself of that moment. He remembered the moments when he imagined that it was Antinous who was on top of him when it wasn't ; when he called out his name - only to be disappointed with the ugly face of some other man.
He dragged his fingers deeper into himself as his back arched more, his legs tightening around his hand. Ragged breaths left his lips as he finally went over the edge - his body relaxing with a sigh.
He lays there for some time, slowly sliding his fingers out of him with a whine as he sat up.
Placing his hands into the water once more - he cleaned himself off. Grabbing the thrown clothes and sandals and quickly putting them on. They still rubbed against his skin, but much less uncomfortably than before.
After he got dressed, he still stayed on the floor of the cave,thinking about what he had just done.
Gods, it felt so wrong - yet so right.
‘You're supposed to hate him, for fuck's sake.’ He thought for a second - before a string of laughter ripped from his throat. “I hate him alright.” he murmured as he pulled himself up from the floor and walked down the path that led to the exit of the cave.
Luckily, he was very familiar with this cave. So, he got out easily.
As he walked towards the palace - he wondered if Antinous remembered that night.
Obviously he remembered - he carried a scar to remind him of it every single day.
But, Telemachus wondered if he remembered the hungry kiss they shared.
Just the thought of it made him chuckle.
Telemachus smiled at the thought of how He would have the king wrapped around his fingers. Maybe he already had him. He probably already had him.
He reminded himself of why he was doing all of this. To get his throne back ; to get his mother back and to make every single suitor leave the palace. He would make sure to fulfill all of these.
But, how would he wed antinous without causing the whole realm to be against it?
A secret marriage - perhaps.
Yes, a secret marriage.
Telemachus knew that this marriage would be a scandal. Not only because two men were marrying each other. But, because he had already been shamed when he returned to Ithaca. So, he figured that it should stay a secret until it couldn't be anymore.
Oh, but - how would he break this news to his mother? The poor woman would pass away just from hearing his stupidity. Or - maybe her love for him would overpower the hatred she held for antinous? She would probably try to kill the man herself.
Telemachus chuckled at the thought. He would pay to see that.
He was quick to put these issues away from his mind. ‘problems for Telemachus in the future.’ He thought.
He was quick to arrive at the palace. And thankfully - no one was roaming the back halls of the palace. He always called these ‘shadow halls’ - because they were mostly swallowed by the darkness and no one paid any attention to them.
This time, instead of going into the room he occupied in the past - he walked another path.
He knocked on the door, trying to find out if he was there.
“Who is it?” The man from inside called out.
“It's me.” Telemachus replied. And not even a second after - he heard footsteps approaching the door. It quickly swung open and revealed a distressed man - who was fast to drag him into his room and slam the door with a loud thud.
Before Telemachus could even say a word - he was cut off.
“By the gods - where were you?! I had thought that you were with eurycleia - because you are always with that woman. But, you weren't. Then I asked melantho - she didn't know. No one had seen you this entire day, and suddenly you appeared at my door completely drenched and muddied - with your ankles scraped. What do you have to say for yourself?!” Antinous spoke in a single breath - his hands holding onto Telemachus’ arms tightly - as if afraid to let him go. His eyes were wide as he stared at the other from head to toe.
Telemachus couldn't help but laugh. His head threw back as his body trembled in the grip of the man.
“I - “ he snorted. “I was just out in the forest.” He chuckled.
Antinous did not.
“And I'm supposed to be calm from that statement?” His brows furrowed. “ What if someone had taken you? Or what if a wild animal had attacked you?! What then?” He added - finally letting go of Telemachus. “Dont ever do that again.”
Telemachus smirked as he looked up at him. “I won't." he murmured.
Antinous sighed as a small smile painted his face. He brought his hands up to his face and brushed his hair away from it as he walked over to the window.
Telemachus was quick to follow. Standing next to antinous.
As his eyes subtly gazed over the man - he saw the thin scar on his forearm. His gaze lingered on it for a while, until he felt the man extend his arm towards him.
“look at it closely - if you wish. It is your own doing.” Antinous whispered.
Telemachus took his arm in his hands, his fingers running over the scar so softly.
His eyes sometimes jumped over to see what Antinous was doing as he touched the scar. To his surprise - the man seemed oddly calm. But his calmness quickly seemed to change at the realization of something.
Antinous walked away from him and walked over to the pile of neatly folded clothes and looked for something.
“What are you doing?” Telemachus asked, walking over to Antinous.
“You're wet.” He said as he looked through the clothes - probably looking for something that he could give Telemachus.
The words made Telemachus smirk as he quickly bit down onto his lip to repress a laugh. ‘You could say that.’ He thought. He jolted as Antinous extended his hand that held clothes in it.
“Take it.” The man said as he turned around.
Telemachus took it without a word.
Antinous looked away from him, letting him change in peace.
Telemachus took the drenched clothes off and threw it into a basket. His hands quickly moved as he pulled antinous’ clothes over his body. Noticing how it hung loose, he took a step closer to the man, elbowing him in the back.
“Belt.” He said.
Antinous grabbed a belt and wrapped it around Telemachus’ waist before he could do it on his own.
After that, silence seemed to swallow the room.
Telemachus’ hand reached back and grabbed Antinous’ arm. “Is there any news about my mother?” He murmured.
“No.” The other said.
Telemachus turned to look at him, his thumb brushing over his scar once more. “How do you think she'll be when she comes back?”
A snort escaped antinous’ lips. “She will try to kill me - that's for sure.” He said.
Telemachus chuckled at the comment. His thumb sliding deeper and deeper against antinous’ skin. “How do you know that I won't?” he murmured.
The other cupped his chin and raised his face as he looked down at him. “Because, if you wanted to kill me. You already would have.” He murmured.
Telemachus’ lips lifted in a smirk. “Maybe I'm planning how to.”
His smirk was met with antinous’ own. “Maybe you are. But I know that you will try to do something far more confusing and strange than just simply murdering me.”
Telemachus chuckled at that. “You really think so?” He whispered against the other's lips.
The man nodded. “The fact that you're this close to me tells me that there's something going on with that cunning brain of yours.”
Telemachus hummed.
Antinous had no idea what was waiting for him.