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Working on yet another strategy against their enemy, Odysseus is staying up late once again. The whole Crossroads have long gone quiet, only some occasional crickets or frogs can be heard, rustling among the grasses or bushes. Sometimes the waters of the Cocytus ripple in the distance too but apart from that, nothing disturbs the peaceful silence-non silence of the woods.
That is until there’s something like a whimper echoing among the trees and Hecate’s big cauldron. It draws Odysseus’ attention away from the plans spread over the table for a moment, in which he’s trying to assess where the sound came from. However, since the noise doesn’t repeat, he shrugs and returns to the scrolls before him.
Not for long, though.
The next thing he hears is a panicked shriek that certainly originates from Melinoë’s tent.
Without hesitation, Odysseus abandons the paper he’s just held in his hands and strides to the front of the tent and stops before its closed flaps. Usually, he’d knock first but there’s nothing to knock at, so he puts his hand back down after reaching it up. He thinks for a second and then just decides to ask.
“Little Goddess, are you alright in there?”
He flinches only a tiny bit when the flaps flutter and little Melinoë is clinging onto his leg. His eyes full of sympathy, he looks down at her and pets her hair to soothe her, feeling her press herself even closer to his side.
“What’s going on?” he wonders in a hushed tone.
“Odysseus, that tall and dark figure is there again!” Melinoë squeals, her eyes tightly closed.
“Where? Tell me, so I can go and show them who this tent belongs to.”
“No! You can’t go there! He’s scary and… and…!”
“Ah! He won’t scare me, little Goddess! Your tactician here is too old to be scared by some…”
“No, please!”
Well, he’s not going to go anywhere while Melinoë’s basically glued to him. The poor girl is shivering and sniffling and Odysseus doesn’t have the heart to disobey her and terrify her even more. Even a quick peek inside can’t happen, so the tactician has to change his tactics.
Thus, he doesn’t even make a move towards the tent. Instead, he somehow manages to crouch down, so that he can now have the goddess stand in front of him. She’s all downcast, looking at the ground and rubbing at her teary eyes and the sight hurts Odysseus.
He takes her small hands in his to prevent her from irritating her glassy eyes further. Stroking Melinoë’s knuckles with his thumbs, he makes her lock her eyes with his. They’re sad and tired but Odysseus is going to change that. That little goddess will not go back to sleep all frightened and upset.
“Come with me and we’ll spend some time away from that horrible man that keeps you awake at night, what do you say?” Odysseus offers, his tone nothing but uplifting.
“But it’s past my bedtime! Hecate won’t be happy!”
“It’s past mine too, little Goddess! The Witch doesn’t have to know.”
He winks to the goddess and her face lights up immediately. Joy reappears in Melinoë’s mismatched eyes and she smiles while some stray tears remain on her cheeks. Odysseus promptly wipes them away and stands up, smirking to himself at the little mischief he’s just come up with.
Melinoë turns around and starts heading towards the tactician’s post but she hasn’t taken more than five steps before she’s snatched by Odysseus, lifted up and given a piggyback ride. She screeches and then presses her hand against her mouth not to wake up the entire Crossroads as she’s enjoying the ride to Odysseus’ trusty desk, giggling in the meantime.
His heart’s growing at Melinoë’s happy noises and the wide smile on her face as he sits her on the table is priceless. She scoots a bit to let him make more room for her as he’s collecting the most interesting maps of Erebus that he wants to show her.
“Can I go there yet?” she asks after studying the current map of the forest for the last couple of minutes.
“I’m afraid not.”
“Can I go there if you come with me, then?”
Melinoë looks at Odysseus with her big, hopeful eyes but he has to disagree once more.
“That’s unfair!” she huffs, folding her arms over her chest.
“One day, when you’re big enough, you’ll be able to go there all on your own. Isn’t that worth the wait?” Odysseus challenges back, quirking an eyebrow up.
“All I do is wait and wait… I want to see more of Erebus, Odysseus! There must be so many new spots to hide. Just imagine playing hide and seek there!”
Melinoë muses silently for a bit and then says, “can you talk to Hecate, Odysseus? Ask her to take us there?”
“I can try, little Goddess, but I am not promising anything. That alright?”
“Yes! Thanks! You’re the best!”
Melinoë listens to Odysseus explain all the hidden forest paths that he has been discovering and dutifully copying onto the scrolls but the young goddess she is, she starts to get bored soon. But she’s also polite, so she hides it for as long as she can. Her patience has its limits, though, and while she thinks that she’s been focused on Odysseus rambling about all these drawings for hours now, it’s been only a quarter of an hour.
So, at one point, Melinoë yawns. Politely, of course.
“Am I boring you with these, little Goddess?” Odysseus asks, amused.
“It’s no fun if I can’t see it all myself. Let’s do something fun.”
“I’m open to suggestions.”
“Tell me a story, Odysseus!”
“A story, aye?” He leans his hands against the edge of the table and squints at Melinoë. “Which story?”
“About you and your friend sneaking up on the bad men and stealing their horses!”
Odysseus smiles at the fond memory that happens to be the goddess’ choice for today’s second bedtime story.
“We stole a chariot too but let me start from the beginning…”
He sits on top of the table and Melinoë takes her spot right next to him. She leans her head against his arm and sighs deeply, relaxing as she tunes into Odysseus’ flowery and winged words.
As always, he really gets into the spirit of the days long gone, both to keep himself awake and to entertain Melinoë as best as he can. She is indeed amused but sleep’s more powerful than the young goddess and it begins to embrace her sooner than she’d like. Obviously, Melinoë’s doing all she can to resist it but her eyelids grow far too heavy to keep fending the sleep off.
It’s not the first time that Melinoë nearly dozes off while listening to one of Odysseus’ stories about his mortal life. It’s actually happened so many times, that he knows precisely when to end his monologue and call it a day. But before he does that, he takes off his cloak and wraps it around Melinoë, so that she doesn’t get cold on the way to her sleeping mat.
Careful not to let the goddess fall off the edge of the desk, he keeps an eye on her while hopping off of it himself and then scoops her into his arms to carry her back to her tent. She cuddles into him, visibly content to be enveloped in Odysseus’ huge cloak.
“Will you steal a chariot for me too, Odysseus?” she mumbles sleepily.
“I’ll steal as many of them as you ask of me, little Goddess,” he answers softly, quietly. He’s also tired by now.
“And build me a wooden horse?”
“Aye. Just let me gather some wood for that.”
“Mhm…”
By the time they’ve entered Melinoë’s tent, she’s fast asleep and seemingly nothing can rouse her from this blissful state. Odysseus still won’t risk it and lets her keep his cloak for the rest of the night (or day) as he puts her on her sleeping mat all gently.
So much for not waking her up, though.
Just as he’s about to get up and out of the tent, Melinoë reaches out her hand and grabs one of his fingers.
“Don’t go, Od…” she mutters, barely opening her weary eyes.
Her tiny voice grips Odysseus by his heart. Can he say no to her? Can he say no to the Princess of the Dead who clearly doesn’t want to stay there in her tent, all alone, vulnerable to nightmares and tall, dark figures disturbing her rest?
“Your wish is my command, little Goddess.”
She snuggles up first to the cloak she’s got around herself and then to Odysseus who makes himself comfortable next to her, on the blankets that cover the ground beneath. Melinoë lets out a satisfied exhale and falls asleep in no time. Odysseus soon follows.
During their sleep, Melinoë manages to climb or roll onto Odysseus chest. Feeling the weird weight pressing against him, he wakes up to check what or who is blocking his lungs which haven’t been even working for years now, probably. Yet, the phantom reflexes have never left his body.
Odysseus sniggers under his breath upon seeing the culprit. He couldn’t be less bothered by it, so he wraps one arm around the slumbering goddess in order to prevent her from falling back onto the ground.