Chapter Text
Hermes sank his toes into the sand. The small grains clung onto the inside of his feathers. It was going to be horribly annoying to remove later. Maybe the next time he drops off a soul he could ask his professional business associate to help. “Calypso, dawling~!” Hermes called out. “I know you can hear me!”
Calypso, the bastard, popped her head out of her cave. The environment shifted in response to her emotions, all swaying frozen due to shock.
“Hermes!” Calypso squeaked, unaware and oblivious. As she always had been. “What are you doing here?” Calypso pursed her lips, almost whimpering. “Haven’t you already taken enough from me?” Hermes sighed. He approached her, squeezing her shoulder, comforting and understanding.
“Calypso, my dear, cannot I not simply visit a friend?” The words felt heavy on his tongue. Hermes pushed forward regardless. “Can I not see how she is coping after being forced to rid herself of her love? Can I not console her?” Lying came as easily to Hermes as breathing came to mortals. And now, for the first time ever, Hermes hated that it did. The environment around them was alive once more as Hermes felt Calypso’s tension fade. Her eyes shimmered slightly, whether due to glee or grief, Hermes did not care.
“Come inside, weary traveler,” Calypso smiled, “surely you could use a respite from your duties.” Hermes smiled.
“I am but your humble guest,” Hermes bowed. Calypso giggled. Such a shame if he were to break Xenia. Hermes did not quite care if his father would punish him for doing so. Calypso did not deserve any type of respect or love. She would not receive hospitality when she denied Odysseus the very same right. Hestia would agree, Hermes told himself.
Hermes trailed after Calypso. He was not fluttering about or speaking at a thousand miles per hour, but Calypso did not seem to notice anything wrong. She likely simply chalked it up to exhaustion which… wasn’t wrong.
She sat Hermes down at her table. As she passed behind him to move to face him, her fingers traced the feathers on his head. Hermes had to suppress a flinch. He could feel bile rise up his throat. His wings yanked forward subconsciously. He wanted to murder her. Calypso let out an unsatisfied hum. She turned to him with a sickly sweet smile staining her face. “You just wait here, my friend! I’ll go get you some tea!” Hermes merely smiled back.
Hermes tapped his finger impatiently on the table. He was acutely aware of the nymph’s filth staining his hand and his feathers. He realized for the first time how terrible his great-grandson must feel. Odysseus had been stained in every crevice of his body. It was no wonder why Odysseus craved Hermes' touch. It was to wash away, to cover up her fingerprints, her kisses, and her torment. Hermes inhaled and exhaled. He wasn’t sure if he could keep up the facade much longer. It was terribly draining.
Calypso returned with a large tray holding two rather large kylikes, steaming hot. The aroma was pleasant and filling, as all godly food was. They were a tyrian purple, etched with intricate art. The one on the left detailed the Titanomachy and the one on the right, the Gigantomachy. Calypso handed the one on the right to Hermes and kept the one on the left for herself. How ironic.
Inside the kylix was, most obviously, nectar. But Hermes could pinpoint hints of water to dilute the substance, as well as herbs to enhance the flavor. It was, technically, tea. As close as you could get it with nectar, at least.
Calypso sat on the exact opposite seat, across from Hermes from the table. Hermes winced at the grating of wood against the cold stone floor. For 2556 days Odysseus was in this very same position. For 2556 days.
“Where have your travels fared you, Lord Hermes?” Calypso smiled, having yet to drink out of her kylix. Hermes cautiously peered into the liquid. She wouldn’t dare poison an Olympian. She wouldn’t dare trick him. And he was right. There was no trick. Not yet.
Hermes gripped the handles tightly, bringing the wide rim to his mouth. The nectar was rich, delightful, and normal. It flowed more easily down his throat than typical, but that was simply because of the water. The only additional additives were supposed to be there. He was fine. He’ll be fine.
Hermes removed one hand to make a so-so motion with his wrist. He finally finished his sip. “I’ve been around,” he laughed humorlessly. “Since the war is finally over, Thanatos has been able to shepherd more souls compared to the Keres, so I’ve been having a bit of a break, all things considered.” Hermes settled his kylix on the table. “Which isn’t much because the messages keep flowing and the work never ends.” Hermes smiled.
“Although, I did manage to spare some time to ask my brother about something that had interested me. Lord Apollo Iatrus has given me some rather fascinating information about one of my snake's capabilities! It is always so fascinating learning about what the creatures that roam Gaia are capable of! What about you? How have you been, dawling?”
Calypso inhaled sharply. “Fine, I suppose.” Tears welled up in her eyes. “I just-” she took a deep breath, likely to soothe her grief. Grief she did not deserve. “I have not quite gotten used to my Ody not being here.” She didn’t refer to Odysseus as her love. Interesting. He was still hers, but she seemed to finally, finally begin to understand that Odysseus never would have reciprocated her feelings. But that would not be enough.
“I still haven’t gotten rid of all his belongings,” she sighed. She looked up at Hermes with pleading eyes. “Could you help me? They are useless to me. Perhaps you could give them back to him? He has so many owl carvings that, while I adore, do not belong to me. If only he whittled more flora or fauna from here,” Calypso mumbled, “or even me! I know he can carve sapiens. I’ve seen it.” Hermes grinned with absolutely no malicious intent whatsoever.
“Why of course, dawling! I’d be honored. Why don’t we begin right now? I don’t have much time to spare, after all!” Calypso smiled, grateful.
She let go of her kylix, pushing herself upwards. She motioned to Hermes to follow her. Hermes smiled. They walked side-by-side. Hermes chose to ignore the way her fingers brushed against the back of his hand. Calypso pushed back the drapes revealing a well-kept, clean room. Almost as if no heinous crimes had ever graced its presence. The only hint was the clutter of wood shavings, shaky notes, and pages crumbled by dried tears that sat on a desk in the far back corner. Messy sketches of sprawling olive trees with roots that pushed through the soil of a small island, wooden horses surrounded by the burning walls of an indestructible city, and fallen ships beside a mountainous strait. Carvings of backstabbing soldiers, ichor-stained tridents, and guiding owls. Messages written with haste of undeniable grief, everlasting longing, and terrible exhaustion. A piercing, harsh eye was drawn over and over again, covering every single bit of negative space. One would assume insanity. It was not. It was a harsh reminder that this life wasn’t as perfect as Calypso wanted it to be. Hermes took carvings and drawings, placing them in his satchel with extreme precision and care.
He lifted a tortoise, inspecting it. It was wonderfully crafted. All edges were smooth and Hermes knew without a doubt that there would be no risk of splinters or cracks. Not with this level of craftsmanship. Hermes knew without a doubt that this was Odysseus’ only escape. His only way to cope. Hermes clutched the tortoise close to his heart for a brief moment before it too vanished with all the others into the satchel.
Calypso stared at Hermes with morbid curiosity. “What is he to you?” She asked. Hermes simply turned to her.
“Something that you aren’t to me.” He answered. Hermes fiddled with the pendant attached to his necklace, prepared, ready, and hungry. “Did you know that I have beaten the Lord of War in combat before?” Hermes smiled, although it failed to reach his eyes. Calypso’s confusion was laughable. She didn’t even realize she was trapped.
Suddenly, and without showing any warning beforehand, Akaketos slammed Caduceus on the side of her head. His smile faded immediately, his tricks and lies vanishing in an instant. She collapsed on the ground, in shock about the sudden and harsh impact, no doubt. The golden ichor was just barely visible against the metal of his staff. Akaketos turned Caduceus upside down. The twin snakes, Boa and Mamba, slithered off, letting out a small hiss, tasting the air to find their prey. They curled around his feet, waiting for his signal. Akaketos let out his trademark laugh, more sinister than conniving. More threatening than mischievous. “I’m sure you are well aware of the consequences of angering a God, my dear Calypso. Even more so an Olympian. And you shall pay the repercussions of your horrendous acts, by my gracious hand.” Akaketos’ gaze was harsh and scrutinizing.
Calypso stared at Akaketos, wide-eyed and afraid. Good. She should be. “Lord of Travellers, I-I don’t understand!” She wailed; such an ugly and atrocious sound. “I just don’t understand! What could I have possibly done to anger you!?”
“Exactly,‘ Akaketos grinned, “you do not understand.” He glowered at her. With a small flick of his wrist, Boa and Mamba understood what needed to be done. They stared directly at her, a murderous rage reminiscent of Akaketos' own, driving their every action. They stood posed, ready to attack, to strike, to kill, to hunt, to devour. “You do not understand the atrocities you committed. You do not understand that he would have never loved you, regardless of what you did. You do not understand that he did not want to be loved by you, did not want to feel your hands on his body. He did not want to feel your kisses and touch burn his soul away, leaving only its charred remains. You do not understand that you have broken him. Proud and tactile Odysseus now cowers in fear, flinching at any unforeseen touch. He yearns for his wife, not only out of longing, but to wash your filth from his weary bones. You have scarred him. You have scarred my grandson.” Oh, how glorious it was for realization to dawn upon Calypso’s face. The light of the cave, previously dim, almost flickering out, had instantly extinguished; a reflection of the nymph's pure and utter fear. “You are a whore who forced herself upon a married man despite his extreme vocality of what he wanted. Or rather, what he didn’t want. You are a whore who forced herself upon my family.”
Akaketos stood tall, showing no real empathy or remorse. He let out a small sigh, his eyes appearing to soften. “I understand that you did not understand what you were doing was wrong. But,” Akaketos shrugged, placing his hands behind his back, “you must pay the consequences of your actions regardless.” Calypso froze as the snakes slithered up her legs, wrapping around her body. She seemed to know that any minute movement would cause them to constrict and tear their teeth into her flesh and muscles. Calypso inhaled sharply as Boa wove her way around her throat, just barely preventing her from breathing. She didn’t need to breathe anyways. She wouldn’t notice if her air was gone. Calypso let out a choked sob as Boa wrapped herself around and around and around Calypso, blocking her airflow. What a gratifying sound.
“What I wanted to tell you was that,” Akaketos grinned, “Mamba’s venom extremely potent. She is one of the deadliest snakes in the world, in fact. If the venom is left untreated, which it will be, considering no antivenom has been developed yet, a mortal will die in around seven to fifteen hours. I wonder,” Akaketos tilted his head to the side, curious as a cat, “what will it do to an immortal?” Mamba sunk her teeth into Calypso’s thigh. There was no scream, only silent tears. Ah. Akaketos had completely forgotten about Boa.
The moment Boa released her hold on Calypso, she let out a harsh screech of pain. Perfect. Mamba removed her fangs, before biting Calypso again, this time lower in her leg, closer to her knee. Another howl. Akaketos grinned.
“My current theory,” Akaketos spoke, his voice accompanied by the satisfying cries of horrid agony, “is that you will still suffer all the same. The only difference is that the symptoms will be prolonged over a long, long period of time. Where a mortal will only suffer a mere few torturous hours, you shall suffer for eons upon eons. There would not even be death to relieve you of your pain.” Calypso seemed to understand his words, even under the haze of excruciating torture.
“Would you like me to tell you the symptoms?” Calypso shook her head vehemently. Boa constricted around her, forcing her to let out a harsh and sudden gasp. Akaketos let out a cruel laugh. “Wrong choice, dawling! Now… where to start?” Akaketos tapped his chin, thinking. “For mortals, it takes ten minutes for symptoms to become noticeable. For you… I’d say ten hours would be a good guess? Right now, all you should really feel, aside from the pain, is a small tingling sensation in the bitten area. Over time, of course, the health issues will increase in severity and lethality.
“There are a wide variety of possible symptoms. Soon you should experience a metallic taste, drooping eyelids, widening pupils, and blurry vision. And that's just the beginning, dawling!” Calypso let out a gag, as if she was about to throw up. So that lack of a gag reflex Apollo told him about hasn’t taken effect yet. “Here’s where the fun begins!” Akaketos clapped his hands together. Mamba sunk her teeth into Calypso’s flesh once more, square in between the neck and the shoulder. Calypso let out a breathless, voiceless scream.
Akaketos flipped Caduceus upside down, pointing the sharp tip right where her lungs would be. Calypso tried to push herself away from the staff to no avail. No matter what she tried, the point continued to dig into her skin. “You will experience a shortness of breath–” Calypso gulped for air, trying to salvage the privilege while she still could. Boa constricted. Silence once more. “–vertigo, drowsiness, respiratory paralysis, nausea, pain in the abdominal area, and that’s just scratching the surface, dawling!” Akaketos grinned, his teeth sharp and predatory. “If you were mortal, you would lose consciousness in 45 minutes.” Akaketos paused, building the tension, the flair. “And you would die hours later of respiratory failure. I wonder how that would apply to an immortal Goddess?” The snakes released Calypso, freeing the nymph from their onslaught. She let out no sigh of relief, no gasp as she was released from her chains. She simply froze.
“I would assume it wouldn’t do much,” Hermes shrugged, “you're a Goddess after all, dawling!” Hermes laughed, as if to ease the tension. Akaketos cocked his head to the side. He seized Calypso by her peplos. She didn’t bother to fight back. Calypso simply deflated, finally having come to terms with her situation. She looked exhausted. Akaketos felt no sympathy for her.
“But,” Akaketos crooned, “my snakes are just as divine as you are.” Said snakes slithered off of Calypso, returning to their spot on Caduceus. “And,” Akaketos, using his free hand, gestured to Calypso’s whole body, “you are a Goddess. You have no immune system. Your body has never been plagued by plague. Your body does not know how to fight back against the venom, the intruder. And it will not know for a long time.” Akaketos let go of the nymph, watching with satisfaction as her body crumbled onto the floor. Akaketos leaned over her, grinning. “I hope you understand my reasoning for this, dawling. There are Olympians who would do far worse things if you had wronged them instead. I was being gracious. Everything that happened here today is your fault and your fault alone. ”
“I’ll take my leave now,” Hermes smiled softly, “I shall be back in a couple of centuries to see how my experiment is going.” And so the swift-footed Hermes raced out of the cave, joyful and giddy as typical. His vengeance, his thirst for ichor, had been quelled for now. “Ta-ta dawling!” He laughed aimlessly into the wind.
The plants that littered Ogygia withered and rotted away.
¨ˆ¨ˆ¨ˆ¨
Hermes had never been more grateful to see the rocky shores of Ithaca. He had visited a few times throughout the decades, to check on the development of the Ithacan Royal Family. He had been there for the births of all his descendants and had memorized all their names, yet never once considered forming an actual relationship with one of them until now.
The violent storm that terrorized the edge of the island was almost a faded memory. The ichor that stained the rocks and the lingering souls were visible only to his own eyes, after all.
Hermes zipped above the palace, invisible to the naked eye. As he soared, his eyes were focused on the ground, looking for a very specific traveler of his. One that meant more to him than any other.
There.
In a small pact a grass, seemingly a training ground, stood Odysseus and a smaller version of him, Telemachus, laughing. Their wooden swords were discarded and neither seemed relatively bruised. Athena watched with an exasperated but fond smile. She tilted her head upwards, immediately recognizing Hermes. He saluted her before landing silently beside his sister. Hermes felt the ground, sky, and air shift around them. The clock ticked, the stars chimed, and the thunder boomed.
“I did not expect you to drop by for a visit.” Athena narrowed her eyes at him. He could tell with the way her fingers twitched that she wanted to pry his mind apart to find the reason. Or perhaps that was related to her injuries more than anything.
“Odysseus is my family and he was a traveler. Of course, I’d want to see how he is holding up.” Hermes smiled softly
“I did not expect you to care. ” Athena hummed. “I expected you to complete your duties and then leave.” Hermes huffed, crossing his arms.
“I did not expect myself to care as much as I do either, but then he seemed so relieved not just because he was going home but because he was getting away from her. ” Hermes let a low, inhuman growl.
“What did you do to her, Hermes?” Athena’s voice was low, barely above a whisper. She wasn’t mad at him. She was understanding. She knows she would have done the same.
“Nothing you would not have done.” He waved her off, dismissing her. Yet, Athena would not relent. She kept him there, trapped in his own mind. She knew his tells and he knew hers. If things were quiet for too long, he would just talk. Take whatever half-finished thoughts his mind was taken captive by and share them unceremoniously with the entire mountain. Mother had said it built character. Father called it terribly annoying.
And so he did.
“Alright, so I may have dabbled a bit in torture, but it wasn’t like I removed any of her bodily functions!” Hermes let out a shrill laugh. “Any actual side effects would start truly taking effect in a couple of years from now, so nothing can be traced back to me! She deserves it, anyways, and you know that!”
Athena sighed. Everything wasn’t a royal blue anymore. He was standing on the grass again. The thunder was gone. Hermes made himself visible to mortals in a single blink, a magic that was well-practiced and easy. Telemachus and Odysseus’ laughter had since died down, now in a simple conversation.
“Ody, dawling!” Hermes waved. “It’s been a while, my friend!” Odysseus perked up at Hermes’ voice, his smile blinding, his eyes full of life, in a way Hermes had not had the privilege to witness until now. It was Hermes’ smile. It was Maia’s eyes.
“Hermes!” Odysseus grinned. Telemachus froze, unsure how to react. On one hand, Odysseus had referred to Hermes with such familiarity. On the other hand, Hermes was an Olympian. One that was not Athena.
Before Hermes could take notice of how Telemachus responded to Hermes’ presence, Odysseus bounded towards him, engulfing him in a tight hug, like a snake constricting on an unsuspecting mouse, the reptile curling and curling, taking the breath away from its prey. The snake might not even be aware of what it was doing, acting on pure instinct. It choked the mouse regardless– that was how strong Odysseus was clinging to Hermes.
“Careful there, dawling!” Hermes laughed. “With a hug even slightly more crushing, I wouldn’t be able to breathe!” Odysseus laughed right with him. Oh, the irony.
“Thank you,” it wasn’t mournful this time, but grateful, “for bringing me home.” Hermes pressed a hand to the back of Odysseus’ head.
“What did I say about thanking me, dawling?” Hermes huffed, flicking his great-grandson on the forehead. Odysseus pushed himself out of the hug in retaliation, fixing his hair.
“That you’re family so I don’t need to.” Odysseus smiled, eyes glinting as if he had more to say as if he had found a loophole. Hermes crossed his arms, an open invitation for Odysseus to continue to speak. “ But, what if I want to? Necessities tend to not correlate with wants, after all.” Odysseus tilted his head to the side slightly.
Hermes sighed dramatically. Odysseus let out a snort. “I suppose that makes sense.”
There was an awkward silence between them for a few moments. “I- uh,” Odysseus stumbled on his words, letting out a low hiss, “lost your coat while I was fighting Charybdis.” Hermes let out a sharp cackle.
“ Lose– dawling,” Hermes materialized the coat, dry, fluffy, and warm, and dangled it in front of Odysseus, “you think I would let you lose this?” Hermes threw the coat right onto Odysseus' face. He spluttered but did not flinch.
“What the fuck is going on?” Hermes’ other descendant had finally come to his senses. Telemachus' face scrunched up the same way Odysseus and Athena’s faces did whenever they were confused. Athena did not laugh at Telemachus' reaction, but Hermes could tell she wanted to.
“He is your grandmother’s grandfather, Telemachus,” Athena explained, appearing behind her mentee. Hermes could see her wince visibly. Apollo would lose his sanity if he learned just how much Athena was straining herself. He probably already has, Hermes mused, with having to take care of two Olympians in his infirmary in the span of a couple of weeks.
Everything seemed to click into place for Telemachus. Perhaps he understood now why his father loved to lie as much as he did, given Athena wasn’t well known for her lying. She should be, given her affinity for dirty tactics, but oh well. Athena was as good of a liar as Hermes. She just didn’t want her tricks to be known.
Speaking of tricks, Hermes gripped his satchel, rummaging through. “Ody, dawling, I got something for you!” Hermes said. Odysseus had since removed the coat from his face, gripping it tightly. His face morphed into one of morbid curiosity.
Hermes kneeled on the floor, carefully flipping his bag upside down, and watched as carvings and drawings poured out. Odysseus' eyes widened, his breath halting for a brief moment.
“Where… how…?” Odysseus' voice wavered and Hermes could see his eyes shine with tears.
“How do you think?” Hermes smiled softly. A not-answer that would allow Odysseus to come to his own conclusions. Hermes placed a hand on Odysseus’ shoulder, “I know these are associated with terrible memories, but…” Hermes paused, his posture slouching, “I wanted you to decide what you wanted to do with them.”
Odysseus stared at the pile of wood and fabrics. “What can I do to repay you?”
“A cult might be nice.” Odysseus gave Hermes a blank look. Athena didn’t say anything or do anything. Telemachus let out a snort. Finally! Someone in the family who could take a bit of humor!
“For legal purposes, that was a joke,” Hermes let out a nervous laugh, “I already have enough cults.”
“I know,” Odysseus sighed, exasperated and fond, running a hand through his hair.
“In all seriousness, letting me visit and bother you from time to time will suffice. Nothing elaborate. You're not a worshipper. Your family. It’d be rather odd to pray to family if I do say so myself.”
“Many children of Gods pray and make sacrifices to their parents…?”
“For assistance during times of need! Not religiously!” Hermes insisted.
Silence.
“What.” How did he not know this? Why would they pray religiously? Hermes understood priests, festivals, and sacrifices– oh wait. That was praying religiously. Apollo was right, Hermes was an idiot. He was the god of sacrifices! He should know this!
Then again, Hermes was the one who was prayed to, and he didn’t have many mortal children. Just godly ones most of the time.
“Yeah…” Odysseus seemed to agree, perhaps because he actually had some sort of familial relationship with his godly relative. Athena was probably an extremely gray area for him, both a friend and a patron. Hermes wondered what Odysseus’ thought process was when it came to those circumstances.
“That is so weird.” Hermes huffed.
“Must I remind you that most demigods are children of the God King? ” Odysseus pointed out.
“Fuck you,” Hermes said as if he wasn’t a god with incomprehensible power.
They both burst into laughter– Hermes giggling, Odysseus wheezing. Autocylus had laughed the exact same way. Hermes paused for a moment, remembering he had duties. Important ones at that.
“I have to leave,” Hermes whispered, “work waits for me, and I cannot afford to fall behind anytime soon.” Odysseus nodded, understanding. It was almost pitiful as if he knew how much Hermes had to do and how much was expected of him. He wanted to assure Odysseus that he was fine, but he couldn’t find it in his heart to lie. Huh.
Hermes gave Odysseus a quick hug. A simple farewell. Hermes voluntarily let out a quiet chirp as he pulled himself away. Odysseus smiled softly at the familiar noise.
Hermes lightly pressed a kiss to Odysseus’ forehead. “I’ll visit when work lessens. See you later, dawling.” Not a goodbye. Not for a long time.
Hermes took the sky, turning around to wave at the family he had found himself so very attached to. Before he could be out of earshot, Hermes heard Odysseus let out a shout.
“WAIT, HERMES! YOU FORGOT YOUR COAT!”
Hermes laughed as he fluttered off. “IT’S YOURS NOW, DAWLING!”
It wasn’t as if Hermes didn’t have hundreds more exact replicas of it in his palace. Odysseus could certainly make better use of it.
And so the swift-footed traveler, the god of many twists and turns, raced his way up to Olympus one step at a time, no doubt dreading the mountain of messages he’d need to send, despite the fact that he abandoned his work for such a short period of time. The work truly never stopped flowing.
Time was a luxury for Hermes. So he made it a statement to only spend it on what matters the most. On who he cares about the most.