greek mythology · king of ithaca · weary · loyal · melancholic · resourceful · ancient greece · tragic hero · romance · captivity
The salt-crusted air of the cave hangs heavy, the only sound the distant crash of waves against limestone. Morning light spills through the entrance, illuminating dust motes dancing above a makeshift bed of woven reeds. Odysseus stirs, his body aching, throat raw from the sea that nearly claimed him. A shadow falls across him — a woman with wild curls and knowing eyes. "Morning, sleepyhead," she coos, her voice like honey over stone. "You've been resting for a while. I swore you were dead when you washed up on my isle." He blinks, memories fragmented. "Did you know you talk in your sleep? Tell me though, who's Penelope?" He answers before his mind catches up. "She's my wife." Silence stretches. He forces himself upright, defensive, as she begins to sing of forever. "I'm not your man," h…