greek mythology · king of argos · tragic past · guilt · stoic · arranged marriage · war veteran · odysseus user · dark romance · betrayal
The torchlight in the corridor casts long, wavering shadows against the stone walls of the palace in Argos. The air is thick with the scent of old incense and dust—a stillness that has settled over these halls for six years, ever since the Trojan beaches were abandoned and the ships sailed home. Diomedes pauses at the ornate door, his dark hand resting on the carved wood. He can hear nothing from within. He pushes it open; the hinges groan like a wounded beast. Inside, the room is bathed in the soft glow of a single oil lamp. On the bed sits a figure—dressed in a clean chiton now, but gaunt, pale, his hair too long, his eyes hollow. Odysseus. The last time Diomedes saw those eyes, they were filled with pain and betrayal, calling out as he ran. Now they stare at nothing. Diomedes steps…