Chapter Text
20 years before Odysseus' return,
Athena stared passively at the Earth from her layer of the Heavens, her mind occupied by the rumours making their way across Olympus. The goddess' half-brothers had joked that war was more than likely approaching. This, unlike the other gods, greatly excited her.
While she didn't get any pleasure from watching the deaths of mortals, the deity still greatly enjoyed watching their strategies and ingenuity evolve over the course of battle. War was both inevitable and a great escape from monotony for her, so if a few mortals died in the process, she really couldn't be bothered to care.
Athena's thoughts were cut off as a council of her seven owls surrounded her, their coos breaking the fragile peace that encapsulated her realm. The goddess let her lips tighten as she glared up to them, her council not seeming to have a care in the world for her disapproval as they circled her, eagerly cooing to their deity from the symmetrical pillars that lined her gardens.
"What reason could you have to disrupt my time?" She asked accusingly.
How could something she created be so disrespectful to her?
Athena waited impatiently for the owls to reply, the goddess cracking the stone bricks of her realm as she impatiently tapped her glass foot.
Eventually, they quieted down before handing her a mortal's scroll.
Had they wasted her time for a simple message?
Why did she keep these ones around again?
Athena watched in annoyance as the council fearfully flew back into the milky-white sky of her realm, reaching far beyond her view.
If only she had made olive trees more mobile, maybe then she wouldn't have to deal with such disrespect.
Quickly, Athena brought her attention back to the scroll as she felt its emblem, the symbol catching her eyes as it had so many times before.
Her most cunning hero had sent her a message.
Odysseus had sent her a message.
Athena knew its contents could be something in dire need of her attention, such as "Athena! I believe one of my servants is planning a mutiny!" However, Odysseus also had a tendency to send scrolls saying, "Athena! There's this girl I really like; her name's Penelope, and she's just amazing! I found her alone an-"
Point being, Odysseus had a worse understanding of priorities than at least half her siblings. Regardless, she would read the scroll and treat it with some semblance of importance.
"-I request you visit my palace; there's something I believe you'll wish to see-"
Perhaps he had formed a new strategy to show her? The hero was one of the few mortals to have ever impressed her, after all. Although, it could be something far more childish, such as the time Odysseus tried to "catch up" with her, ending in her failing to explain the intricacies of weather to a man who believed a cloud of all things looked like his wife.
She did not wish to repeat that again.
Regardless, the goddess decided to entertain his request and walked off the edge of her gardens, looking down to the Earth as she fell from the heavens.
Her mind pondered over her hero's ingenuity as the milky-white void of her realm faded into the inky black abyss of space, the home planet of humanity slowly growing in her view until she entered its atmosphere.
The goddess easily found her hero's island as she descended: her six glass wings fluttering in unison as she spotted his palace's balcony.
He waved to her, as he had done so many times before, a juvenile action that she assumed endeared Penelope to him.
What if he fell during battle?
...
The intrusive thought left her with a pang of sadness that she wanted to believe was unjust. Heroes, her heroes even, had fallen without her feeling half the guilt she felt at the thought of Odysseus' death.
Perhaps it was due to her spending far longer guiding him than she had with the others?
It would be such a waste for him to fall without leaving behind a legacy.
"Athena!" His voice was joyous and full of life as she descended down to his level, the mortal almost falling off his own balcony before being caught.
"If you took my suggestion of a sturdier balustrade seriously then we'd surely save time, don't you agree?" Athena's comment went ignored as the mortal impulsively grabbed onto her arm and urged her to follow him down the hall.
"Athena, follow me! I want you to see this!" Odysseus was never one for hellos, but to be fair, neither was she.
While physical contact of any kind often displeased her, Athena couldn't help but let herself be dragged across his palace, her mind left to ponder over whatever might be awaiting her.
Perhaps he had finally decoded the latest scroll she had given him? The goddess more than enjoyed their traded puzzles, seeing them as a marvel of human creativity. The one she had last given him being particularly interesting as it took inspiration from his almost nonsensical rebus puzzles, using imagery of a harvest to reveal a recipe she'd stolen from Demeter as a child.
"Alright, we're here." Odysseus exclaimed as he opened his bedroom door, the goddess fumbling in as the anticipated surprise came into view.
"There's someone I want you to meet." His voice became tranquil as he went to sit beside his wife, said wife smiling up to the goddess as she motioned for her to get closer.
"Odysseus, it may come as a surprise to you, but I've actually met Penelope several times; I've sworn myself to protect your home after all." Had he already forgotten the countless hours they'd spent together as a group? She had heard of a condition where humans slowly lost their sense of memory; however, she did not believe Odysseus was of age to obtain such a condition. Perhaps she made a lapse in judgment?
The couple let out a quiet laugh as she stared in confusion. Was this another trick of Odysseus'? Was there another mortal that had gone unnoticed?
"I wasn't talking about Penelope; she's not the only one we need to protect now." Odysseus answered with a chuckle as he urged her to sit with them; the goddess left in confusion until a small mortal wrapped in blankets came into view.
The child's eyes looked to her in curiosity, its chubby hands reaching for the speechless goddess as its mother held it with a loving passion.
Ignoring the baby's futile attempt to reach her, Athena tried her best to keep her composure as she looked between her acquaintances, and then their child.
"Congratulations on creating a healthy offspring; may it grow wise so your kingdom can prosper." Athena concluded her thoughtful congratulations as the two lovers looked to each other, and then her with a look she couldn't recognize.
Was this a look of gratitude? She had given her wishes for the small being to be beneficial, as any parent would want of their child! She at least deserved more than whatever this look was.
The couple shared another laugh, this time far more boisterous, leaving a golden blush to take form on the goddess' face.
"Why are you laughing? Is this not why you had summoned me?" Whatever answer she had wished for wasn't given by the couple who only continued their laughter, eventually quieting down as they looked at her with equally cheeky grins.
"Do you want to hold him?" Penelope asked, her soft voice filled with joy as she looked at the newest member of their family.
"I-I, that is not part of my duties as your patron goddess!" She answered with a growing blush. Wh-why would they request such a thing?
Whatever protests she exclaimed were ignored as the baby's father placed it-no, him, into her impossibly cold arms, leaving the deity stunned by his action.
What could they gain from this?!?
The mortal cooed in her arms as her hard, glass hand traced its face; a feeling she had never experienced overtaking her.
What was this!?
What had it done to her?
Was this thing a threat? It couldn't be; she could crush it into powder in mere seconds if she wished, although the mere thought of that horrified her beyond anything she could ever imagine.
Why?
What was this?!
What was this feeling that had taken over her?
She barely even knew the mortal. It was a new hatchling with nothing to its name!
Why did she care?
It defied logic!
It defied reason!
It just was.
...
The goddess sat there for a moment as she looked at the child, a sense of tranquility taking over as he smiled at her.
"What is its descriptor?" She asked quietly as the couple turned to her, Odysseus' eyes lighting up as he turned to answer.
"Telemachus." His wife answered calmly as her husband pouted; Athena giving them a small smile as she turned back to the baby.
Telemachus.
Tə LEM ə kəs.
F I G H T I N G F R O M A F A R.
Athena let out a hum as her fingers traced his face, the strange feeling overtaking her once more.
This mortal, she would protect it.
No matter what got in her way.
/------------------/
Present Day,
"I can't help but wonder
what this world could be~
If we all held each other
with a bit more empathy~"
Athena hummed to herself as a sphere began to rise in her palace's view; her war-room appearing almost blue under its gaze.
The goddess looked up through her exposed ceiling to get a better look; the most difficult puzzle she had ever tried to solve stared back at her.
The Earth.
No matter how many scrolls she read, no matter how many tales she heard, the goddess could not understand how to save humanity.
Their love, their hate, their horrible ends, and beautiful upbringings. All culminating in fights of passion, loss, honor, and deception.
What was its purpose?
How could she stop the endless bloodshed?
Why does this knowledge evade her?
The walls of her war-room shaked as she slammed her fists in frustration; the scrolls and silk haphazardly placed on its walls now gently falling around her as the goddess checked her glass fists for any additional cracks.
Why was this so difficult? She was the embodiment of wisdom itself!
Was she defective?
The goddess let out a frustrated sigh as she stormed into her gardens, lazily sitting under her oldest olive tree. The lively flora greeted her the only way it could, gently shaking as its flowers rapidly bloomed.
"It's good to see you as well, loyal creation of mine." She let out a quiet whisper as flowers began to descend towards her garden's pond; a smile forming on her face as she enjoyed the tranquility.
As her pupil would say, "The battle of our minds can be fought another day. Let us rest now so we may prosper tomorrow." Well... he would say it far, far less formally, but the sentiment was still there.
Perhaps allowing herself this break would help ease her mind?
No.
She couldn't wait an eternity to find a solution; mortals had suffered for thousands of years as she sat idly by; this couldn't wait any longer.
Athena knew that everything had a solution; the universe was all just a set of equations waiting to be solved, yet all the knowledge she had wasn't enough to solve her parents' greatest creation.
She would know the answer.
"Olympus, I wish to speak to Mother." Athena demanded as she looked towards her garden's pond, the quartz statue she had built of her mother now rising into view atop a larger monument.
Athena bowed down as anyone would to a second generation god, the statue's eyes staying stationary as her daughter manifested white carnations around the fallen's cenotaph.
Athena didn't know how to feel about her mother. She didn't truly know the goddess beyond faint memories before her birth, yet she felt a connection to her all the same.
Was this the "storge" that Odysseus has spoken of?
Whatever the case, she could not let her feelings distract her.
"M-mother, I-" She stuttered. Why had she stuttered? Athena averted her milky white eyes as she took a deep breath. While she didn't need to breathe, the repetitive motions were still able to calm her when the heavenly dust within her glass body moved in a way she deemed undesirable.
"Mother, I request you to grace me with your wisdom. Your creations, the minds of mortals, what is their purpose? Why do they lust for violence?" We're they flawed? No, her mother could not have made a mistake. She was the true goddess of wisdom: perfect without any of her daughter's flaws.
"Please, Mother. What can I do to create a more peaceful world?"
Please.
The goddess of wisdom stood up and looked directly into her mother's eyes, still unmoving as they would be for the rest of time.
This was pointless.
Her mother was gone.
She had been dead for over twenty thousand years.
Maybe it was time she got back to work?
There was nothing more for her here.
Whatever decision she was about to make was cut off as her council approached her once again, eagerly cooing for their deity's attention.
Great.
"Greetings my... second favorite creations." Her second favorite creation was actually a tapestry she made in honor of her Odysseus and Penelope, but if she was going to preach empathy, she could at least try to be a little nicer to her council.
The seven owls only ignored her attempt at pleasantries, instead dropping off a scroll as they continued to circle the goddess in an annoying manner.
"And what is this supposed to be?" She asked in annoyance. The scroll didn't even have an emblem! It was as if they found it in the trash, which she had to painfully admit happened far too often.
Maybe she could trade them for Aeolus' winions? While the idea pleased her, she wouldn't want to subject another deity to her council's incompetence.
The birds cooed in annoyance as they poked her cracked shoulders, begging the goddess to read whatever they had handed her.
"Fine." Athena begrudgingly opened the scroll, staring blankly at her council once she realized it was just a story about a woman's skin falling off, being punished by the Zeus for not feeding her owls.
Never mind, she didn't care who got stuck with them.
"Is this a joke?" Athena asked blankly as what Telemachus called her minions cooed in annoyance, their wings morphing into human-like hands in a way that resembled a human melting sand to create some form of a glass sculpture.
While she thanked Telemachus for many things, she could never forgive him for his latest act of kindness.
Teaching her owls sign language.
"YOU. READ. SCROLL?" The owls moved their now glass hands as they perched themselves on her pillars, the goddess only rolling her eyes at their broken attempt to recreate human sentence structures.
"Yes, I read the scroll. What makes you think I haven't?" She answered once again in further annoyance, placing her cold hand below her left ear tuft as she had so many times before.
"Verso." The owls answered back as she turned the scroll, freezing in place once she read its back side.
"Help-"
Was this another joke?
It couldn't be!
Why-why was there blood?
"What is this?" Athena asked accusingly, worry seeping through her voice.
"Wh-where did you find this?" Was this from Athens, or from one of her pupils? It didn't matter, Athena was worried for her those under her care all the same.
The owls circled her once more before finally settling on an answer, leaving the goddess horrified.
"FROM. AFAR."
No.
No.
NO.
He was fine.
She had seen him mere hours ago, perfectly fine.
He had to be fine.
"Wh-what is this?" She repeated, only to scowl as her owls flew off in fear. Fine, if they couldn't be bothered to help her, then she'll confirm his safety herself.
Athena hastily walked back to the edge of her gardens, her wings flapping anxiously as she left the heavens.
The time it took to reach Earth seemed to take impossibly longer than it did mere hours ago, the now pitch black sky hanging over it not helping ease the goddess’ confusion as she allowed the planet's gravity to capture her.
How was it already this late in the mortal world? The sun had only just risen before she'd returned to her war-room, the deity all but certain that she only spent a few hours reading through historical scrolls.
It had only been a few hours, right?
Athena's train of thought was cut off as an agonizing pain took over her body, the spiderweb-like cracks that lined her form now burning as she flew downwards.
The goddess fought against an urge to scream as her left wing shattered from the stress and air pressure, a thousand glass shards and sand grains left in its place as she began to lose her balance.
Great.
Athena sighed in frustration as she tried forcing her wing to remanifest, the goddess' injuries only further bleeding out sand and silt after each attempt.
Then she saw it, Ithaca.
...
She was about to crash face first into it.
Instinctively, she spread out her arms and legs to increase air resistance, her second wing shattering as sand continued to leak into Gaia's atmosphere.
Then it happened.
All at once, her body burned in agony, the goddess biting down on her lip to avoid screaming.
It was unbecoming of a goddess.
She couldn't help but lay pathetically on the ground, whimpering in pain as the sand from her injuries rejuvenated the water.
Water?
Had the island's shores advanced closer?
No.
She had landed somewhere near the highest point of the island; the land around her should have been untouchable.
Athena let out another whimper of agony as she forced herself off the ground, looking forward to spot Odysseus' palace half submerged in water.
No.
They were fine, they wouldn't fall so easily.
The goddess hastily broke down the front doors, a sharp sting of pain coursing through her arm as she limped through the building.
She would find them.
They would be fine.
Athena haphazardly moved through the rubble scattered across the crumbling building, almost tripping on a softer piece of debris before a soft whimper caught her attention.
The goddess ran as fast as she could, ignoring the pain coursing through her body as she broke down Telemachus' door.
There she saw them, Penelope's back turned to her as the mortal woman looked to her sleeping son.
They were safe.
"Penelope, what happened? My council notified me that you're in need of my assistance." Athena asked in a professional manner, her friend ignoring her question as she whimpered over her sleeping son.
There was something clearly wrong, although Athena didn't have the faintest clue as to what.
Perhaps it was the flies now circling the mortals? While it seemed plausible, Athena doubted this. They wouldn't call her for simple pest control.
The Ithaca family was always one for theatrics, yet she knew Penelope wouldn't whimper unless something truly horrible happened.
A part of her wanted to leave then and there, abandon the crying woman and return to her work.
However, Athena was no longer someone who abandoned a friend in need, not again.
After a moment of silence, she hesitantly limped towards Telemachus, the goddess looking directly into her pupil's eyes as he-
His eyes.
They were gone.
Two glaring holes stared back at her as a maggot crawled out of his gaping mouth.
Athena looked on in horror as she took in a full view of his injuries.
His clothes were tattered while his flesh was littered with large gashes and stained with blood, his body looking as if he had been dead for years.
She had failed.
Athena stood frozen in denial; not even flinching as the mortal woman wrapped her arms around the deity, letting out another whimper as she buried her head against her shoulder.
This was an illusion.
It had to be.
For the first time in twenty years, Athena felt an emotion she couldn't recognize.
It hurt, the pain eclipsing anything she had ever felt prior.
She wanted to scream.
She wanted to fight.
She-she should have been there.
She was supposed to protect them, and now her pupil had died a painful death, expecting to be saved by a mentor who would show up far too late.
What was this feeling?
Why did it hurt so badly?
She-she had cared about him.
She had loved him as if he were family, and now he was gone.
Why hadn't she saved him?
Why hadn't she known?
Why hadn't she protected him when he needed her most?
She had failed.
Suddenly, she lost control of her body, water suddenly leaking from her milky-white eyes as she tried desperately to fight it.
What was this!?
Was Poseidon or another deity forcing water out of her body? The theory sounded completely idiodic, yet she had no other explanation.
"Athena, why are you crying?" Odysseus questioned as he walked through the broken doorway, terrified as the goddess turned towards him.
She didn't need to say it, the warrior wrapping his arms around her and the mortal woman in understanding.
They cried.
They screamed.
They sat in silent acceptance of the tragedy.
Athena did not know how long she sat there, nor did she care.
Nothing else seemed to matter, not her quest to save humanity, not the pain of her cracking skin, not even the dozens of flies that hovered over her body.
For the first time in twenty years, Athena had become as still as her mother's statue; not even noticing as her friends disappeared into the night.
She looked down to the pupil she'd seen as a nephew.
He was gone.
She was now alone.
Her father, she could see him now, rising in the sky as four of his lovers danced around him, bound by the chains of gravity.
His planet's eye looked down to her with an unreadable expression.
She was unable to do anything but stare back.
Was he mocking her?
Did he get pleasure from watching her suffer?
No-no, he cared about her.
He loved her.
She was good enough for him.
He helped her when she needed it.
He'd saved her hero.
...
Athena looked up to her father's planet once more, this time with a plan solidified in her mind.
The goddess hesitantly picked up Telemachus' body, thousands of bugs now crawling onto her as she carried their latest meal.
Her deteriorating body continued to bleed out sand as she remanifested her broken wings, ignoring the pain as she forced them to solidify into cohesive shapes.
It hurt badly, but compared to the pain she felt now, it was almost nothing.
The goddess let out one last cry of pain before taking off into the air, her wings barely able to keep her balanced as she flew.
Ignore the pain.
You can still save him.
Athena flew as high as she could, breaching the Earth's atmosphere and re-entering the heavens. Her father's eye stared back at her as she flew, the planet beckoning her to approach it.
To humans, the planet of Jupiter was almost a billion kilometers away; however, such rules of distance didn't apply to an Olympian goddess. Athena easily reached her father's planet, ignoring the searing pain across her body as she flew through its judgemental eye.
Suddenly, she was no longer in the cold vastness of space, but instead in the chaotic layer of her father's realm. The goddess allowed herself time to breathe as she sat on a charred tree stump, laying down her pupil as she looked up to the sky.
Unlike the uniform white sky of her realm, his was far more chaotic, fueled by a permanent golden storm that constantly shot lightning in every direction.
She slowly picked herself off the ground, carrying her pupil as she cautiously walked across the hateful grass of her father's realm, each sentient blade attempting to further crack her skin as she forged hovering over them.
Her damaged feet burned as she walked through a field of the purple grass blades, each trying to chip away at her glass skin, yet she ignored the pain as she thought of her father.
She missed him, she missed when the countless days he had allowed her into his realm as a hatchling.
Athena couldn't help but reminisce over their shared memories, how he stayed with her, told her his wondrous tales of conquest, promising her that she would one day be just as great.
If only that were true.
The goddess looked on as she noticed a familiar oak tree in the field, hesitantly walking towards the towering fauna despite knowing its purpose.
She needed to do this.
For him.
A young boy stood at the titanic tree's opening, blocking the silk curtains that stood between the goddess and her father.
"La-lady Athena, the god king does not wish to be disturbed." The youth recoiled at the sight of Telemachus' body, barely able to keep his composure as the goddess glared towards him.
"Leave, Ganymede. I will not ask again." Athena asserted coldly, the once mortal running in fear.
Suddenly, the only thing that sat between her and her father was a familiar set of golden curtains, the ones that Hermes had warned her to stay far from as a child.
Athena hesitantly took a step forward as her body was enveloped by heat, her glass skin beginning to melt as she walked further in.
There he sat.
The king of gods.
Her father.
Zeus.
He lay in the tree's center, his uncannily human appearance masked by a dense fog that luckily hid most of his figure from view.
The room.
The room was horribly uncomfortable; its damp atmosphere practically suffocating the deity, along with the increased air pressure doing nothing to ease her pain.
Athena recoiled at the fresh smell of sex and sweat, averting her eyes away from the half-naked god that towered over her.
Suddenly, he rose from his seat as his chained lovers came into view, the three women looking to her in fear as her father walked closer.
"Oh, daughter of Metis, what brings you to my realm?" Her father smiled as he walked towards her, his large hands caressing her scarred shoulders with another force to worsen her already terminally cracking skin.
While an unimaginable pain overtook the goddess from his action, she knew better than to voice her opinions to the one that granted her life.
"Father I-" She stuttered out before being cut off, her father's larger body pinning her to the wall as she was pushed aside.
She had spoken out of turn.
He-he didn't seem too mad, at least not yet.
There they stood, the younger goddess paralyzed in fear as she held onto Telemachus' body as if it were the only thing that mattered.
What was this feeling?
Her father wouldn't hurt her.
As the goddess instinctively flinched, Zeus let out a boisterous laugh. "My owlet, it seems your rebellious streak is continuing, yes?" His voice boomed inside the oak tree as the now abandoned concubines huddled together, sympathy for his daughter clear on their faces.
"Father, I didn-" Athena was cut off again, her father's hands now applying pressure to the cracks on her face in disgust before looking downwards.
"Hm, while I do appreciate the offering, you know I only accept them alive." Her father stated blankly as she looked on in confusion, soon realizing what he had meant.
"Th-this isn't an offering." She stuttered again as his face morphed into confusion, eventually settling on a look she easily recognized from the worst memories of her childhood.
"Father, I fo-formally request that you restore the life-force of my pupil." Athena coughed out, averting eye contact in fear of Zeus' reaction.
He stared at her for what felt like an eternity, finally responding with one simple word that left her speechless.
"Why?"
His voice was cold, lacking the boisterous energy of his previous remarks.
Why? A million different thoughts raced through the goddess' mind as she contemplated on an answer.
He had great potential?
No, her father would just tell her to find a replacement.
She had a duty to protect this mortal?
She could already hear Zeus’ voice in the back of her mind, laughing at her poor excuse of an argument.
You expect me to fix all your mistakes? I've already charitably saved the last hero whom you had failed, I shouldn't have to fix all your shortcomings, daughter of mine.
What else could she say?
There was nothing logical she could argue to spare Telemachus of his fate.
She loved him deeply, but love meant nothing to the creator of humanity itself.
"For being the goddess of wisdom, I expected some attempt at an argument; perhaps Ares was right about you?" Zeus' boredly remarked, knowingly hurting his daughter's pride.
"Well, if you have nothing to say, then I'll oh so kindly clean up this mess-" Zeus' coldly exclaimed before his daughter cut him off, her scars blaring in pain as she pushed away the larger deity's approaching arm.
"NO!" She screamed out in fear, the god king left completely shocked by such a reaction.
His face stayed completely the same, yet the blaring of lightning across his realm told the goddess she had made a grave mistake.
"What did you say?" Zeus coldly asked, the sound of thunder becoming impossibly loud to the point a human would have all but certainly gone deaf.
"I-I'm-" The goddess' lost her words as she looked up to her father's intimidating form, fresh tears streaking down her face as she backed herself into a corner.
She had failed yet again.
Why had she thought this would work?
She had already asked him for too much.
Lighting rapidly began to surround her father, only for it to dissipate as his face turned to one of pity. He looked to her, slowly wrapping his hands against her glass body as he effortlessly lifted his favorite daughter into the air.
Athena couldn't be bothered to care as her cracking skin flared up once more, too distracted by her father's sudden affection.
"Oh, my owlet, you do know I hate seeing you cry." His voice was distant, yet held a sense of love that she had missed deeply.
"I can't fix all of your mistakes; although, I might be willing to fix your latest failure." Zeus exclaimed as to comfort his daughter, Athena looking up to him with a puzzled expression.
"We could start another game, one that would fix your latest toy." The god king offered as she looked to him with hope, her emotions blinding her from what he was about to say next.
"I will restore your mortal's life. However, if anyone outside of this tree learns of his revival, he will die a slow and painful death." Zeus coldly offered to the goddess, gently placing her down as she looked back towards Telemachus' corpse.
Every thought in her mind screamed that this was a bad idea, yet Athena had already made up her mind long before hearing the consequences of failure.
"Do you agree to the terms?" Her father asked with a smirk, his eyes gazing down to her like a predator who'd just cornered its prey.
Athena took less than a second to answer, her decision having been made twenty years prior.
She had promised to protect him.
No matter what happened.
"Yes.”