Chapter Text
Odysseus’ return was bloody. The gore took weeks to fully be scrubbed from the walls and floors of the palace. Odysseus himself had spent a whole day in the bathhouse with Penelope washing him as gently as possible until she was satisfied enough to allow him out of the water.
Telemachus had been grateful for the brief respite. A whole week he had spent without being taken. Without a new bruise or cut or soreness in places he didn’t like to name. A week without sex.
Since he was fourteen and Antinous began training him to take his mothers place, he hadn’t gone this long without intercourse. Six years since his virginity was taken by the elder and six years since he had been allowed to rest this long.
Why?
Why was Odysseus waiting?
Why hadn’t he claimed him yet?
Was Telemachus not pleasing enough? Not pretty enough? Not strong enough?
Was Odysseus mad that Telemachus had fallen to the suitors? That he couldn’t be the one to deflower his son?
Telemachus was grateful for the break but was scared of what was to come if he got too used to this life. Antinous would call him spoiled if he went more than a day without taking a cock. He was scared of what was to come when his father finally decided his respite was over. Telemachus had seen how brutal he had been in his anger at the suitors. Would that anger come through in bed? Antinous always flip flopped between mean and cruel or doting and caring. Reeling Telemachus back in after he’d broken him so thoroughly. Ensuring Telemachus was his not only in body but in mind as well. Which path would Odysseus take?
Penelope had clearly noticed Telemachus’ aversion to his father. Telemachus assured her that he was just not used to him yet.
“I’ll be good for him. I promise mom I will.” She’d looked even more off put at that. Was Odysseus not taking him because he had her? Perhaps. The whole reason Telemachus’ training began was to keep Antinous and the other suitors from his mother. But he didn’t need to do that for his father, did he?
Telemachus shrugged it off and figured Odysseus would soon make his intentions known. Perhaps he would marry Telemachus off now if he didn’t want him for himself.
But Odysseus may not have made his intentions known, but he had made some attempts to bond with his son.
Only a couple days after Odysseus’ return, he found himself outside of his sons door. What was he doing? The boy was an adult now! He didn’t need his estranged father watching him sleep!
He knocked regardless. It was late so when the boy opened the door Odysseus was only slightly shocked to see him in a night gown. It appeared similar to his wife's own nightgowns. The boy also wore a thick robe so Odysseus couldn’t see much. But it was comforting to know his son was comfortable enough in his own home to relax as he pleased, in women's sleep clothes.
“Father?” The boy whispered, pulling Odysseus from his thoughts. Telemachus cocked his head curiously. Would tonight be the night? Was his father here to claim his prince?
Odysseus moved as if he were going to reach out. But upon Telemachus’ slight flinch he let his hand fall. “Telemachus. May I... May I sleep in here tonight?”
Telemachus nodded and opened the door further, beckoning the king in. “Of course, sir.”
Odysseus cringed at the formality. “Telemachus? You know you do not have to be so formal with me. Yes?” The boy stayed silent and still. Confused. “I am your father not your king. I... understand if you do not wish to address me as such. Odysseus is fine if you wish? Or Ody!” He received a silly look from his son. Something between confusion and shock. “Your mother and my ...friends used to call me that. Friends I've long since lost. But if you would like to start as friends before we advance to family, I understand. Twenty years have passed. You do not know me. I am a stranger in your palace, with your mother. You have every right to be apprehensive.”
Odysseus allows the boy a moment to ponder. He can’t imagine how hard this must be for his son. To accept a rugged and violent stranger back into his heart as his father. And after the display he made the night he came back? He wouldn’t blame the boy for being afraid of him. No matter how much it hurt him to think.
“Ody?” Telemachus whispered. “What do you wish from me?” Odysseus shuddered. First at the nickname, then at the question.
Odysseus shook his head. “Nothing yet. I came here to... watch you sleep? You may refuse if you wish. I simply wanted to assure myself that you were safe.” Had that even been what the boy was asking? What Odysseus came to him for tonight? Had he meant their relationship?
The boy nodded and returned to the bed stiffly. Odysseus watched fondly as his son entered the bed and made himself small under the thick covers. When Odysseus didn’t immediately follow, Telemachus held one side of the covers open in invitation. Odysseus balked.
“My sweet boy. You needn’t accommodate me so. I wish only for you to be comfortable and safe. I will sit here and you may think of me as a guard. One day, when you do not flinch from my hand, I may be able to hold you as we both crave. Comfort you through the night with your mother. But for now, sleep.” Odysseus cooed at his sons attempt to share his comfort. And oh how Odysseus wanted to take him up on it. To hold his son close and sing the lullaby he used to sing when the boy was a babe. But he saw the grimace on the boys face at the gesture, recalled the flinch when he’d tried to brush the boys hair from his face. It was much too soon to allow himself these comforts. He needed to prioritize his son.
As Odysseus sat in the slightly chilly room through the night, he couldn’t help but admire how beautifully his son had grown. They’d always known he’d be beautiful. He and his mother were nymphs after all.
Odysseus had never encountered a male nymph before his son was born. Athena had explained it was a rare occurrence and typically only happened in their situation, a human man and a nymph woman. When Athena had first held him she had offered to ‘fix him.’ To make a regular human boy from a rare male nymph. Odysseus didn’t remember doing it but Athena claims he growled at her.
Who was she to insult his son like that? Odysseus was blessed with such a perfect son. I diamond in the ruff. Literally one in a million. And even had he been born human and not nymph Odysseus would love his baby like he was the whole world.
Odysseus did remember snatching the babe back and saying as much to Athena. Athena had simply shrugged.
They knew it would be an obstacle throughout the boys life. He would not be able to go to the bathhouses with the other boys. Likely wouldn’t take a wife, or if he did would never have children. All nymphs, male and female alike, carried wombs and cunts. They knew he likely wouldn’t be accepted as a warrior because of his unique looks.
And to Odysseus’ knowledge he wasn't. Athena had admitted to taking him under her wing when the suitors arrived. She appeared to want to say more but had hesitated. Odysseus took her reluctance to mean it would be a slight against him she wanted to admit to. But he was glad that his son wasn’t a warrior like him. He would be spared the hardships Odysseus himself had faced.
The boy stirred many times throughout the night. Odysseus would coo at him and brush the worry lines out of his face. He hums when the boy mumbles to himself. Odysseus hopes to the gods that these disturbances are a result of naturally restless sleep rather than some unknown trauma his son had faced in his absence.
The boys reactions to Odysseus were slightly odd. But Penelope had explained that they would all need time to readjust to each other. That Telemachus had never had a very positive male figure in his life, only the brute ogres who called themselves suitors. So he could be soft, if only for his sons sake. He would make himself soft and affectionate like he hasn't been in years, since Politesse.