Chapter Text
Mesodia
Ithaka – Three or four moons after the return of the king
On the low-lying green meadows of Odysseus's estate on Ithaka, bright-eyed Athene kneeled in the dirt and harvested dandelion shoots to carry back to the kitchen for her expanded family’s evening meal.
Though Odysseus’s welcome in the palace of Pronesos had been barren of glorious celebration or banquets, Athene had still felt intense satisfaction for the sheer perfection of the campaign. The losses to her hero's forces were minimal, the loot a considerable boon to his war chest, the devastation on his enemy complete, and the terror of his wavering subjects profound.
And when he turned to her, his eyes shone with vicious pride.
Since that day there had been many firsts for bright-eyed Athene in this early spring, ten years after the fall of Ilion.
For the first time ever, she had advised on love – or rather, she had taken Penelope’s side when the queen had argued that there was no one better to hold Same in Odysseus’s name than loyal Eumaios and that after twenty years of abandonment and widowhood, Ktimene deserved a flicker of happiness.
For the first time in aiones, she had ridden a horse. She had taken the seized pony of Polytherses on a bareback gallop across the footpath around the palace hill, feeding the animal the best fresh herbs she could find and stroking it between its ears. And for the first time, she had turned away with a shrug and an “Of course it is only prudent to sell the beast” when Odysseus had explained to Telemakhos that keeping the horse was an expense in grain that they could not afford.
For the first time she had eavesdropped on Odysseus apologizing tearfully to Ktimene for not bringing her former husband home and for not being able to guard her for all those years and watched him being forgiven.
For the first time she had then approached Penelope at her loom, asking to be forgiven herself for her disregard of the formidable queen’s importance for the survival of the household and her belief that the men of the family were of greater importance. For the first time Athene was drawn into the other woman’s embrace and thanked for the relief her calming magic had brought to the grieving household.
For the first time she was pulled by Telemakhos into a round dance through the palace Megaron at Ktimene and Eumaios's small and quickly arranged wedding. For the first time a young man of the bride’s retinue had presented her with an apple, only for the youth to be instantly thrown out of the hall by Odysseus. Athene was puzzled, but she did not care much for apples anyway and passed the fruit on to Theoklymenos.
For the first time bright-eyed Athene had joined her clear, high voice into the paeans of praise of the new mortal couple and the goddess Hera of the Marriage, who would never hear one word of the hymn.
For the first time, Philoitios had goaded her into trying his favorite concoction called kykeon – an abominable mixture of barley flour and grated cheese stirred with herbs into strong wine – and for the first time, Athene had gone to bed with a buzzing head and woken up feeling like her father must have right after Prometheus’s axe…
But then the sealanes opened fully, and the messages from the mainland herders became desperate and pleading.
And despite their decades of separation, Penelope and Odysseus must say farewell once more. And despite the absence of her divine grace and her inability to wield weapons of destruction and defense, bright-eyed Athene will again accompany her chosen ones to war.
The family argues back and forth about Telemakhos going and about who stays behind to support Penelope and Ktimene. In the end, Eumaios remains to hold the fort alongside wise Mentor, because the sinews in his arm had been badly torn in the campaign on Same – he will not be able to raise a shield for some time, possibly ever.
As the two black ships sit ready for boarding and the spearmen in newly forged bronze assemble at the harbor, Penelope’s face floats in Athene’s mind. Her command to the king followed by a tearful kiss on the mouth:
“You, my husband, will do whatever is necessary to keep our kingdom safe.”
And then the command to bright-eyed Athene herself, as the queen presses the sack of provisions into her hand and a kiss to her forehead:
“And you, our patron, will do whatever is necessary to bring them both back to me.”
Appendix of the Age
Mesodia – I must admit that I am not 100% sure on using this. It is a term to describe short hymns or chants that are inserted "in the middle" (Orthodox Church). As we are back in the homeric style, I treat it as “interlude”
kykeon – thick, nourishing Ancient Greek beverage or porridge made from wine, barley, honey and goat cheese. It is so prominent in myths that goddess bright-eyed Athene would likely have known of its existence, but it would likely only registered at her periphery as she does not need to eat and drink. I recommend watching the episode of the same name of “Tasting History” with Max Miller to see the brew's charms in action.