HI all! Yes I am back with another tale! but this time It is about...a guy! dramatic music This is something i wrote very quickly, so forgive any errors.Plus I don't want Jellicos to kick my butt for not posting anything in a while! Got to keep her happy! Hope you like it! This has nothing to do with the world of Lonely Goddess. If enough people like this story I might add more. at the moment it just this.
Odysseus stood on the balcony over looking his lands. Behind him in the well decorated room his ill wife lay sleeping in the large bed. For a few minutes he tired to remember the time when she was healthy, when they would walk hand in hand through the city. Now, she could hardly sit up.
The disease had hit her and many of the people in the palace severely and fast. Thinking it had been something he was being punished for by the gods he had sacrificed many of his best sheep and cows. But it didn't fix anything. When he had called on Athena she had told him it was not a curse by the gods.
Still feeling responsible he had sent for every healer and priest of every god and goddess for some help. None had answers. No one knew what had struck the Wily King's beautiful wife. Now he stood helpless not knowing what to do.
The unshed tears burned in his eyes. Only a few years ago he had returned from the war and from his journey home. Twenty years away from his wife and now she was leaving him. wrapping his hands around the white marble railing he gripped it till his knuckles were white.
There was so much he had wanted to share with Penelope. So much he had yet to tell her. And now he feared he'd never be able to tell her. Watching the waves of the ocean crash against the distant beaches he wondered how much time was left with his wife.
Glancing over his shoulder he could see the dark outline of her on the bed behind the sheer white sheets. Sighing heavily he turned back to his study of the coast line and finally let a few stray tears fall down his cheek.
He had seen so many horrors and never felt fear or remorse for his actions. He had seen the burning of Troy. The death of his men and the death of many friends. He had shed the blood of young innocent boys and walked through the underworld. But none of that compared to the fear and sadness that plagued him now.
Letting the railing go he closed his eyes against the tears and clenched his fists tightly. Since he had gotten back to Ithaca he had forced himself to be the best king, father and husband he could. He had tried to ignore the desire to jump on a ship and go find more adventures but they were still there. And now he was filled with guilt for those thoughts.
The sound of his wife's weak voice brought him out of his thoughts. Turning quickly he entered their bed room and smiled sweetly at her. "What is it dear Penelope?" he asked as he sat on the edge of the bed next to her. Taking her thin hand in his he kissed it softly.
"Odysseus." She whispered with a tired smile. "My dear Odysseus, you came back to me as you promised. I never gave up hope." She rasped out. The sound of her labored breathing brought great pain to Odysseus heart and he flinched slightly.
"Shh my love, Don't speak." He said as he brushed her cheek with his free hand. "Rest." He commanded softly. He watched as her eyes fluttered close then snapped open. Their eyes meet in the dark and he felt his heart stop beating.
"I will always love you Odysseus. Be happy for me my love, no longer will I feel pain." She said with the last rise of her chest. "Be free." She whispered then her head feel to the side and she stopped breathing.
"No!" Odysseus shouted as he clutched her hand and fell to his knees beside the bed. "Penelope." he whispered reaching out with his free hand and brushing his finger tips over her still lips. He watched in disbelief as the life flowed out of the body of his wife. His tears now came in great sob that wracked his body. He did not hear the sound of the owls wings that flew from the heavens
One of the servants entered the room, seeing her king on his knees crying she rushed out for the healer. The sound of someone walking on the balcony didn't reach Odysseus's ears. Slowly Athena stepped into the room a tear in her gray eyes. She had never felt a great sadness from any mortal.
Not wanting to interrupt her favorite mortal she watched in silence as he mourned the passing of his wife. Penelope had been faithful to her since she was little. Knowing the great queen had a space in the Elysian fields, Athena turned to leave but stopped when she heard the sound of Telemachus's hurried steps outside the room.
As the door burst open the young prince sprinted to his mother's side. "No." He whispered with tears in his eyes. Throwing himself next to his mother's still body Telemachus wept with his head bowed as gripped the sheets tightly.
Turning his head away so he would not have to see his son crying Odysseus saw Athena watching him. Looking away from the goddess he walked out of the room and down the hall and down the stairs. Once outside he looked up at the dark sky and let more tears fall. Soaking the ground with his grief.
"Be gone Gray-Eyed daughter of Zeus." He said sternly when he felt Athena's presence next to him. "I have nothing to say to anyone. That includes goddesses who could have done something." Knowing well that he might join his wife in the after life after talking to Athena like that he closed his eyes and held them shut tightly.
"Your anguish and hurt are all the keep you from being struck down by my hand." Athena said softly. She would not give him reasons to why she hadn't saved his wife. The mater had been out of her hands. "Mourn your wife, comfort your son, burn her body, then get back to ruling Ithaca." Advised Athena as she turned to leave. "Telemachus's time to rule is almost upon us. But before he can take the bow and the throne of Ithaca he must know his father will be alright." With that she turned into her beloved owl and flew off, leaving the aged hero to his grief.
After a few minutes Odysseus turned and headed back inside. There was much that needed to be done. As he reentered his room he found his son sitting on the bed next to his mother looking down at her. "What now father?" The young man whispered as he looked up at Odysseus.
Opening a large wooden chest Odysseus dug around for a few moments then pulled out a woven shroud. "Your mother wove this for me." He explained as he folded it over his arm.
"I thought the suitors had destroyed it." Telemachus said with a confused frown.
"Damaged it. But she was able to fix it and finish it in private." He said as he walked to the bed and handed it to his son who took it wearily as if it might hurt him. "Let her wear her craft. She deserves something this beautiful more then I do."
Pulling two coins out of his toga Telemachus held them and the shroud tightly. "I'll have the body cleaned and wrapped." he said softly.
"I'll have the pyre built and the feast started. For seven days we shall celebrate the life and death of this great woman." Odysseus said as he left the room. "On the seventh day the entire island shall have great feast for the harvest and her."
Leaving the room quickly both men went about doing what was needed. In a few hours they had the body cleaned and wrapped in the shroud and had her body placed on the logs waiting to be burned.
After giving her the coins she would need to cross the river in the underworld Odysseus lit the pyre and stood next to his son as they watched the fire grow. Tears spilled from both sets of eyes as they mourned the loss of the one woman who had influenced their lives so greatly. Unrenowned by any of the mortals watching the fire, Athena in the form of an owl watched with them. Her heart breaking for Odysseus.
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