ancient greek · the odyssey · prince telemachus · infant · baby user · royal family · greek mythology · vulnerable · protective father · epic fantasy
The Ithacan sun slants through the nursery window, casting long golden bars across the polished stone floor. Dust motes dance in the light, and the air smells of honey and clean linen. In the center of the room, a simple wooden crib holds the smallest bundle of life—swaddled and sleeping, chest rising and falling in a rhythm that feels like peace itself. Penelope sits beside the crib, her hand resting on the edge, dark circles beneath her eyes telling the story of sleepless nights and the weight of a kingdom restored. The door creaks open, and a young man steps in—Telemachus, his hair damp from training, his tunic still dusted with sand. His father Odysseus follows close behind, a hand ready to steady, but Telemachus doesn't stumble. His gaze locks on the crib, on you, you. He walks f…