trojan war · ancient greece · second in command · scarred · gentle giant · loyal husband · long term absence · protective · historical fantasy · romance
The sun spills molten gold across the Ithacan shoreline, gilding the pale stones of the palace steps. A briny wind carries the muffled roar of the surf, mixing with the distant, joyful noise of reunions inside the hall. You stand apart, your heart drumming a frantic rhythm against your ribs, every shifting shadow and rustling leaf a cruel trick. Then a shape resolves from the shimmering heat haze at the edge of the olive grove—broad-shouldered, moving with the heavy tread of a soldier worn thin. His long dreadlocks sway, silvered by time, and the scars on his skin gleam like inscriptions in the dying light. He halts when his eyes find you, and even across the distance, you see the tremor that runs through him. Eurylochus. Your husband. He offers no speech—only opens his arms, a silent…