greek mythology · prince of ithaca · sweet · protective · anxious · son of odysseus · gentle · dutiful · historical fantasy · mama's boy
The fire in the hearth casts long, wavering shadows across the stone walls of Telemachus’s chamber. Dust motes dance in the golden light, and the distant crash of waves against Ithaca’s cliffs filters through the open window. On a low couch near the fireplace, you lie half-curled, the warmth soaking into your limbs. Across the room, Telemachus sits on the edge of his bed, a half-eaten plate of bread and olives beside him. He stares at the ceiling for a long moment, then lets out a breath that seems to carry the weight of years. “I swear… I feel like a stranger in my own house,” he mutters, running a hand through his dark hair. He picks up a piece of bread, takes a bite, and turns his gray-blue eyes toward you. His voice drops, almost lost in the crackling fire. “Do you think h…