Only Real Ones Know

Only real ones know

@simugeuge This is baeautiful, And I love re-reding it!!

As I said before!.

MALCRÍALO TO THE CORE!

Also love Odypen development here!

Odysseus takes his kingdom back and rebuilds it over Telemachus' memory.

Odypen becomes a power couple because I'm self indulgent like that 🤑.

⚠️ This fic starts harsh. But it's a happy ending and there's fluff too.

(Also, there's things here I wouldn't advise myself, like ignoring your sadness or Penelope's attitude of service toward Odysseus. But I tried to recreate what out grandparents would do.)

Thanks for all the nice words! Enjoy!

Image: https://eternalgreece.com/mycenae/

@perroulisses

this wasn't even a remotely mechs adjacent quiz. theyre following me.

Uli, what happened???????????????????

went to church today

it was a low-key traumatizing experience omfg

When it´s his family he gives the 300%! >:D.

Telemachus is more,, ehhhh papi... That is not...nevermind

While Penelope is more: oh god, what have I done?

Ducks and Leopards

It was a pretty, warm morning on Ithaca. The royal family were reunited in the yard. Odysseus was checking the stones of the wall that surrounded the house, to see if there were any in need of fixing. Telemachus sat on the floor, drawing with a pig tusk. Penelope walked to Telemachus, put her hand on his shoulder, and stretched her neck to look over his head. He immediately covered the drawing with his body and waved his hand away. “Do not look, you’ll make fun of it.”

Penelope seemed offended. “Son, I would never be that cruel”, said, wrapping tightly her veil around her.

“You are.”

“I have never laughed at you, what are you saying, child?” she pressed her fingers on his shoulder to reassure him. But couldn’t keep talking, because an uncontrollable laughing fit emptied the air of her chest, folding over, grasping his arm.

“It’s a leopard.” Explained to her, flustered, the young man.

“That- that is a do-og, son. What is it?”

“I told you it was not good.”

“And the ears! But it has the spots!” Penelope’s knees were giving under her.

“What have you done to your mother?” Odysseus approached dusting off his hands.

“Ah, it wasn’t me. She loses all her poise whenever she has the chance to be cruel. Compose yourself, queen.” Telemachus teased her. “Please come look, father. Tell my mother it's a good leopard what I’ve drawn.”

Odysseus spied over their heads. He nodded. “I’ve traveled a lot, and I can tell you that is a good leopard if I've ever seen one…”

The young man leered at the queen.

“...We’d call them seals back then.”

“Oh!”, Telemachus grunted while both the king and the queen laughed at him.

“Well, if both of my beloved parents are so dexterous in matters of drawing, I’d like you to show you can do it better than me.” Telemachus offered the tusk in defiance.

“I will take it,” said the queen sitting next to her son and started drawing on the dirt. “I will draw a duck.”

The men complained. It was too easy. It was too boring. But she dismissed them and put all her attention in her drawing.

“Where have you seen leopards?” asked Odysseus scratching his beard.

“I saw one as a child, in Sparta,” explained Penelope, still focused on her duck.

“They brought one to the court of king Menelaus when princess Hermione got wedded to Neoptolemus Achillides. It was a wedding gift. And I would have never made an effort to try and recreate it as beautifully as Pisistratus can, had I known my mother was so very rigorous in matters of art”, Telemachus lifted his voice in reproach.

“There. It is done. A duck.”

“The legs are too long.”

“And the curve in the back is not right, honey.”

“Well, I don’t presume to be an artist, but the idea of a duck is right there.” She opened her hand to the drawing.

Both men scrunched their noses. “The idea of a bird.” Odysseus conceded.

Penelope left them to go check on the length of the duck’s legs in the pen. The king now sat down, took the tusk, and started drawing.

“What are you doing?” asked the woman on her return.

“A leopard and a duck.”

Now it was his turn to get jeered at.

“Awfully competitive.”

“That is very poor creativity, father.”

“He will copy from us.”

Odysseus kept abstracted as minutes passed, now erasing with his foot, now drawing again.

“What would they want a leopard for?” wondered Penelope.

Telemachus giggled: “Maybe the person who gifted it was given the leopard, and didn’t know what to do with it.”

“In that case darling, how far in the leopard line do you think we are?”

“Expect the leopard in a year or two.” mumbled Odysseus, scratching the dirt a little more. “There.” He declared, unsure. His wife and son came closer but they were silent.

“Honey, yours are the worst.”

“They are like stick figures.”

The king scratched his head, frustrated. “They are animals alright. I never promised anything.” He thought for a moment and took the tusk again. “I will draw a snake and I'll show both of you.”

are you perhaps interested in seeing one of the cats i used to have