Chapter Text
The sea had quieted, but the silence was worse than the screams. Odysseus stood at the edge of the cliff and watched his men return to the ships, the name he’d hurled still echoing across the waves: “Odysseus of Ithaca!”
The Cyclops’s roars had faded, but something older stirred beneath the water now.
And Athena stood behind him still under the cave's shadow, arms crossed, lips thin. She had watched the whole thing in silence. She had warned him.
“Odysseus.” she started. No response.
She pulled him into Quick Thought and the air stilled and they were surrounded by blue once again.
“You fool,” she said at last, quiet as a crack of thunder.
He turned, eyes red-rimmed. “Don’t.”
“You should have killed him,” she said. “You were reckless. I told you—”
“My friend is dead.” Odysseus snapped. “And you just watched, and then you just- just tell me to kill again. I’m just a pawn to you aren’t i? Just another mortal you use for unnecessary bloodshed?”
“I don’t act without purpose, Odysseus. I am not Ares.”
Athena’s jaw tightened. She had seen the Cyclops’s lineage long before they entered the cave. She had warned Odysseus, urgently, silently, with every ounce of divine instinct: “ kill him. He’s still a threat. don’t speak, leave no name .” But grief had made Odysseus proud. Grief had made him reckless. “I told you not to speak your name.”
He laughed—a bitter, hoarse sound. “That’s what’s important to you? He killed Polites. My oldest friend. You watched it happen.”
He doesn’t understand. He doesn’t realise that that one mistake would cost him five hundred of his men and an extra nine years from home.
“I was not meant to stop it.”
“You don't get to say that!” he exploded. “You watched him die and you said nothing . And then what? Kill the Cyclops and sneak away like a coward? I’m just a man, Athena. I grieved- I am grieving! But you’re too prideful to understand that. All you Gods are-”
Athena’s silence was a scream. Because she had loved once and watched that love die in her arms, blade through her chest with her spear. Because when she showed love, they would die. When she stayed too long without caution, they became myths carved into tombs. “Odysseus,” she said, quieter now. “You do not know what you’ve done.”
“I blinded a monster.”
“And you reveal your name and kingdom to him. And then you let him live to tell the world to. Do you think they will not avenge him? That you did not just invite the sea to swallow you whole for your actions? I told you to kill him. To leave. You didn’t trust me.”
“I trusted you my whole life! ” His voice cracked again, raw as a wound. “Since I was a boy. Since I killed your damned boar, and you trained me with your own hands. I followed your voice into war. I listened even when it cost me everything . And now you blame me for what happened?”
“I blame you for not listening when it mattered most.”
“I was grieving!” he shouted. “You don’t know what that feels like. You don’t feel . You’re just—just this voice that only shows up when it’s convenient, and then vanishes when the blood hits the ground.”
She flinched. Not visibly, not to him. But somewhere deep inside, something cracked again. Pallas’s blood on her hands, her father’s voice in her ear: Love is weakness, Athena. You were born for war, not tenderness. The spear slipped from her hand, Pallas falling.
“I am a Goddess but that does not make me heartless.” she whispered.
Odysseus didn’t hear her. Or wouldn’t. “I needed you,” he said. “I needed you when Polites died. And you were silent. Why do you always wait until it’s too late and leave me to clean up the blood?”
“I warned you the only way I could. I can only intervene so much when it comes to these battles as a Goddess, Odysseus.” she said, but the words didn’t reach him.
“No. You’re just selfish.”
They stared at each other and the wind knowingly picked up, but it couldn’t lift the weight in the air. Something ancient and sacred had shattered between them.
Athena turned first. And only the Fates knew that if she stayed, she’d never leave.
He took a step forward. “That’s it? You’re walking away?”
“I already stayed too long,” she said.
“You owe me more than that,” he said, voice low. “You owe me more than riddles and warnings and walking away when I get too close.”
And she wanted— Fates , she wanted—to reach out and say “ yes, I do .” To place her hand on top of his head like she used to when he was younger, smaller, full of questions and blind trust. But she saw now what he had become. A man forged in fire and fury and the brutality of war. A man she could no longer protect.
But she was drowning and so she could not speak.
..
“So that’s it?” His fists trembled. “You’re too scared to care anymore? Too prideful? You’re just going to leave? After everything?”
“I’ve cared more than I should.” And then the glass beneath them cracked.
“This- this is just like you. I should’ve known this would happen soon enough. Why should I be surprised?”
“Odysseus.”
“Fine! Leave. You’ll get what you want. I won’t waste your time and you won’t plague my life and whisper into my ear like it’s supposed to mean something. I should’ve known I never meant as much to you as I wanted-”
“You went against my order. You aren’t looking for a mentor, nor my advice. You don’t need me to guide you anymore. Is that right?”
“No! Why don’t you get it!?” And by now, his words carried more emotion than logic. It was a wound lashing out, not a verdict.
She turned to look at him again. They stood before each other and spat out venom, but no one would win. Only a battlefield of a boy’s fury and a goddess’s quiet regret. She looked at him, truly looked, and saw the lines of grief that had clawed their way into his face. He was no longer the boy who clung onto her hem, who would get away with holding onto her arm, who asked for her advice for the girl he loved, who wept in front of her the night before he was crowned king.
No. No, he was a man now. One who had learned to hate and one she could not protect.
“Your heart is cold. You fight and whisper wisdom to be known, like the rest of them.”
Athena didn't have an answer or retort only a handful amount of times throughout her eternal life. And this one was another. Because there were no words for a wound that was cut straight and twisted through her heart and pride.
But he didn’t stop. “That's why you’re alone. You always have been, that’s why you always refused to let me in. And that’s why you’re leaving now. You don't care!"
"You're alone, Athena! Do you hear me? You're alone!"
And that’s what made her body go cold. For a heartbeat, she wanted to scream at him. But he was right, wasn’t he? Because she couldn’t hold those she loved without breaking them. She couldn’t save them from what terrible fate would take them away from her because she had dared to choose her heart. Because her love for Pallas had killed her. And so she swore to herself to never bound her soul to another again. But then a fourteen year old boy barged into her life and by the time she tried, it was too late. She loved and now she couldn’t save him from her.
But she didn’t say any of that. Because it wouldn’t undo the hate he holds like a dagger now. It wouldn’t erase the words they both had said. And it wouldn’t bring his friend back, nor would it bring him home.
The glass cracked again.
“..You were right.”
“What?”
“But you’re just a man, Odysseus. One day, you’ll hear what I’m saying. Perhaps you’ll understand. But I have nothing else to give you. I hope you make it back home.”
And she turned from him again and in a blink they were back on the island.
For once, Odysseus didn’t say anything else. He didn’t bite or bark words back. Athena couldn’t tell if it was from realization and regret, or the opposite. Maybe now, after all these years, he finally learnt to resent her. And now, maybe he wants her to leave.
“..Athena-”
“Goodbye, Odysseus.” She cut him off before he could convince her to stay, if he even wanted her to. Because deep down, she knew that all it took was two words, and she would’ve forgotten she ever wanted to walk away. “ Please stay.”
But he didn’t call after her. That was what broke her the most. Not his screams, not his fury- She deserved that- but his silence. Like she had already become a memory.
She heard him grunt, then his footsteps. And still, she waited. For him to yell, to come back, to blame her again. But he did none of it. He simply walked away with his head bowed and with eyes of hatred and he didn’t look back.
Was this the same curse Orpheus was doomed to? To one day, finally look back, only to be met with a crueller fate than he started with?
But Athena stood right where he left her, she looked down on him from the stars she once guided him by. She could send storms to drown his ships. She could scream and tear the sky down. She could drag him to his knees and demand he understood.
But instead, she let him walk. And she could only do so much as to watch and let him. A pathetically limited action she could do that made her feel impossibly hopeless.