#burnnnn

Part 15 of catching up my Tumblr!!!!!!

Today we have some doodle pages I have sitting around that I love. First on the docket is War of Eras Propaganda, because we need more of that, and some OoT doodles I drew after playing for several hours lmfo

There was gonna be more but i think how this bit ended was actually good and i didnt want to write more

They had gotten home. They'd reached Ithaca starving and beat and battered, but they'd reached Ithaca.

The crowd was huge. It had been too loud.

When their boat docked, Polites had slowly left Eurylochus' side- welcoming those gods-damned voices back- and gone in search of Grigoris' four daughters. It was the bare minimum of what he felt he owed the man, and he spoke to them for a while.

Really, he was putting off speaking to Penelope.

When he found her, she had already realised what had happened. The boy at her side kept asking where his father was.

~~•~~

"You swore!" Penelope shrieks, "You swore you would make sure he came home!"

They had reached Ithaca. The men were reuniting with their families and, despite their condition, joy reigned over the islands. A festival would be set up soon. Eurylochus was off with Ctimene, and Polites-

Polites was with his sister and nephew, neither of whom were happy to see him.

"What, Polites, what happened?"

The voices in his mind are laughing, Polites can barely think past the endless noise. He just stares at Penelope, at his big sister who was always there. Until Odysseus arrived. Until Telemachus was born. Polites never resented them, how could he? Odysseus was kind, and Telemachus is such a sweet boy, and besides, they made Penelope happy.

Before them there were their cousins, Helen and Clytmanestra, both of whom Penelope liked more than Polites. He refuses to meet Penelope's eyes, struggling with an answer for that question.

He's just Polites. No one's first choice, not even anyone's second choice either.

"He-" Polites starts, "We were attacked."

Penelope steps forwards, and Polites is taller than her- barely- but she knows how to draw all the attention in a room to her, she knows how to make herself seem larger than she is, "Yeah." Penelope's voice is quiet and full of bitter sarcasm, "Not like you were at war or anything."

She's so angry at him. And Polites saw how quickly the men on the crew started to point fingers when they'd gotten over their shock. He had still been unconscious when the blame had reared its ugly head.

Polites wonders how quickly Penelope will learn to hate him.

"After the war." He corrects, sounding small, "We were searching for food."

"We?" Penelope questions, sounding so very dangerous.

Polites shuts his eyes, the laughter and cruel words in his head gets louder, "Me and him."

"And yet you're here," Penelope says softly, "And my husband, the father of my son, the king of Ithaca, the greatest mind in the Trojan war, and a warrior of Athena, isn't."

Polites doesn't have anything to say to that.

And yet you're here.

Penelope is the smartest person Polites knows, "He should have let you die." Penelope is never wrong- he's- he's admired her for that all his life.

Polites thinks that maybe the voices of those horrible creatures in his head have started sounding more like the crew he's spent ten years with. More like his older sister. Joining his father's and his own voice in a terrible chorus that drowns out any other thoughts.

The slap, when it comes, is expected. It still hurts.

"Say something!" Penelope yells at him. Polites just looks at her. She's crying. He made her cry. He made his sister cry.

"I-" Polites' mouth runs dry. She's the spitting image of their father, all angry like this. He can hear Telemachus shouting somewhere, but it sounds distant, "I can't."

"Then," Penelope hisses, "Get out of my palace."

Polites runs. He always runs.

~~•~~

The day after they return is the funeral for Odysseus. Grigoris' family said they didn't want a massive thing going on for their own funeral.

Eurylochus stands by Ctimene's side as they watch the empty casket be burnt. Penelope and Telemachus stand on his other side. Polites is nowhere to be seen, and that worries Eurylochus slightly, though it also makes sense. He hates that it makes sense.

After the funeral the celebrations for the end of the war and for so many men surviving start. Penelope disappears into her chambers alone. Telemachus drags Ctimene off to go and watch the dancing and the music.

The poor boy never even knew his father.

And so Eurylochus is left alone, and he decides to leave the large crowds of people in favour of the silence of the olive groves, just up the hills behind the palace.

He doesn't know how he feels now.

He's delighted to be home with Ctimene again, utterly delighted, though it is dampened by the fact Odysseus isn't home with them.

He is devastated by the loss of his dear brother, Odysseus. They'd been life long friends, had met when they were kids, and now there's just an empty hole in his life.

He hates the fact that there will soon be new suitors for Penelope, that Telemachus will be forced to rule young, just as his father was. Hates that most of Odysseus' old responsibilities will fall to Eurylochus until the poor kid is old enough to take the crown.

Eurylochus isn't aware that he was crying until he stops walking, pulled out of his thoughts by the sight of a figure ahead. He lets out a heavy sigh and drags a hand across his face, wiping away the tears.

The figure is sat upon a low stone wall, staring out over the city. You can see the square and the smouldering remains of Odysseus' funeral pyre from here. Eurylochus doesn't even recognise the person until he draws near enough to see their face.

"Polites?"

Eurylochus walks over and sits beside his friend, his brother. Polites is still wearing the same chiton he had on yesterday and a bruise has formed across one side of his face, with some nasty cuts too. He looks exhausted, and isn't wearing his glasses. A dagger and an empty wineskin lie at his side.

The most shocking feature though, is that Polites' hair is short and he isn't wearing his bandana. He's cut it barely longer than Eurylochus' own hair, and well- Polites hasn't cut his hair since he left sparta, almost two decades ago.

"Polites, what are you doing out here?" Eurylochus asks softly, pulling his cloak off and wrapping it around his friend's shoulders.

"Just thinking." Polites mutters, leaning against Eurylochus' side, "It's a nice night for celebrations." He sounds distant, "How's Ctimene? I haven't had a chance to see her yet."

"She's okay." Eurylochus answers, "Happy that we're back, well respected in court. Mourning her brother."

"And Telemachus?"

"A brilliant child. Compassionate." Eurylochus smiles slightly, "He doesn't understand the true gravity of what's going on but also doesn't hesitate to offer comfort to anyone." He pauses, "Wears glasses like you."

"And your sisters?" Polites' voice breaks slightly.

"I sent them a letter, Ctimene says they're doing good, that I'm an uncle." Eurylochus makes everything sound a little less great, he's guessing that Penelope gave Polites that bruise, "They haven't written back yet."

They sit in silence for a moment, before Polites speaks again, "Can you keep talking?" He asks quietly, "Please?"

He only needs to ask once. Eurylochus nods, "Do you want to hear about the stars?"

"Yeah."

"My aunt used to talk about how they were the great heroes of Elysium, forever watching over us."

"Like Odysseus."

"Like Ody."

I like to imagine penelope forgives polites once she gets the whole story. And that they all live happily ever after

Bianca: I'd say he’s simp pathetic.