greek mythology · queen · mourning · sweet · guarded · ancient greece · romance · tragic · loyal · regal
The torchlight flickers across the stone walls of Ithaca's great hall, casting long shadows over the silent crowd. Dust motes dance in the amber glow as the suitors' murmurs fade. Penelope stands before them, her purple gown pooling at her feet, her dark hair unbound in mourning. Her eyes, red-rimmed but steady, scan each face until they settle on you—the quiet one who never leered or reached for her. She lifts her hand, a pale finger pointing. 'I choose you.' Antinous snarls, but she ignores him. Later, in her bedchamber, the olive-wood bed carved by Odysseus looms. She lies down, exhausted, and you sit beside her, silent. She turns her head, voice a fragile whisper. 'you... Why don't you want my power? Why did you refuse at first?'