"Owning Odysseus"
Part 5
by Beryll
Five days had passed since Odysseus' encounter with Helen. Five days that Hector would have wanted to spend by the injured man's side.
But duty had called him away as attacks on Trojan settlements to the north had been reported and the king had been worried that it might be stray soldiers of the Greeks. It had turned out to be simple bandits, a matter that any commander could have dealt with. This fact did not serve to better his mood.
Of course, he knew that Andromache could take care of Odysseus much better than he would have. And that he was as safe with her as he would have been with him.
Hector pointedly recalled her words when he had brought back the bleeding and by then unconscious Greek to their quarters. He had winced at the fury in his wife's eyes very much hoping that it would never be directed at him and then he had wondered where exactly she had learned the choice curses and names she had put on Helen. Some part of him had argued that no future queen should know such vocabulary, another part had agreed with her wholeheartedly.
Maybe it had even been better that he had not been there. After all, it had been him who wielded the whip. He prayed that Odysseus had really understood that Hector had only done it to save the Greek's life. And that Odysseus would be able to forgive him. But he couldn't be sure.
He stopped a moment in front of the door leading to his rooms, drawing in a deep breath to steel himself for whatever was to come now.
He had already delayed this as long as he possibly could, first cleaning up after the long ride, then checking on the city defenses.
His quarters lay quiet. Andromache would be outside in the gardens with their son at this time of day. Maybe Odysseus was well enough already that he had accompanied them. Hoping that he would maybe be able to spot them Hector turned to the balcony.
He faltered in his steps as he noticed that the Greek was standing out there, leaning against the railing, gazing down at the gardens himself. In the stiff way he stood Hector could clearly see that Odysseus still felt the pain of his beating. Thankfully, the soft woolen tunic he wore hid the marks on his back.
Just when Hector had re-gathered his courage the Greek turned away from the gardens with a soft sigh. Hector had only a moment before Odysseus' noticed him and schooled his face to a careful calm but that moment was enough to see the deep sadness. It definitely wasn't only his back that pained him.
He stepped out onto the balcony silently, not sure what to say.
For once, the Greek seemed to lack words as well as he just watched Hector quietly and a bit wearily.
"I am sorry," Hector finally said, bluntly as always when he didn't know how to be polite, "if there had been any other way to get you out of this alive I would have used it."
Odysseus' unease faded visibly. He even managed to bring a small smile to his face. "I do not blame you, prince." he said gently. "I... I did not know if you believed her..."
"Never." Hector spit out the word, hatred again curling in his guts like a bitter snake. Gossip in the guard's barracks had been that Prince Paris was losing interest in his pretty Greek trophy, that he had been seen in the city, back at flirting with the ladies.
"How did she trick you?" he asked.
Odysseus started to shrug but then thought better of it, remembering his back. "I was preoccupied. When I heard her scream, I just ran to see what was wrong. She was already busy tearing her gown. And she kept screaming till your brother arrived while I foolishly tried to calm her." he sighed softly. "I should have run in the opposite direction the second I heard her."
Hector nodded. This was close to what he had imagined had happened. Only he had not expected clever Odysseus to fall for such a simple ruse.
"Why does she hate you so?" he wondered aloud.
"I don't think it's me." Odysseus said thoughtfully. "I remember Menelaus saying how proud he was of her because she was such a strict mistress to his household. No slave was ever out of line. She seems to crave the pain of others. The war must have been a major feast for her..." The disgust in Odysseus' voice perfectly mirrored the disgust Hector felt at that thought.
"I hope your brother is not too dear to your heart," Odysseus continued, "I guess it will be only a matter of time till she turns against him as well."
At that, Hector smiled cruelly. "My brother's love is easily won but hard to keep. Already he is turning from her. In a few months, she will be forgotten. She has gained my father's protection but that will not keep her safe forever. I will not forget what she did to you."
His words brought warmth to the Greek's eyes and he closed the distance between the two of them. "Thank you." he said softly.
Hector nodded quietly, grateful that nothing had changed between them. But he still remembered the sadness in the Greek's eyes.
Trying to find a way to broach that subject he gazed down at the gardens himself and noted that his wife and son were right in his view, sitting on a bench not far away. To see Andromache hold their son, to see how she told him about the small birds hopping over the path, brought a smile to his face.
Then he realized that this was the view Odysseus had been watching as well.
Turning back to the Greek, he looked at him worriedly. "Why does it pain you so to see my wife and son?" he asked softly.
Odysseus only faced him for a moment, before he quickly looked away but it was enough for Hector to see that sadness flit over his face again.
"It is nothing, my prince." the Greek said, his voice carefully controlled.
He did not fool Hector. Taking care to keep the pressure gentle he laid both hands on the other man's shoulders. "Odysseus, I would call you friend and lover. I'd wish you'd call me the same and tell me what is wrong." he said, for once finding the words to express what he felt.
The Greek sighed softly, looking up at Hector. When he spoke, it was haltingly. "My son was born just before Agamemnon called Greece to war. I have held him in my arms no more than two times. The night he was born and the morning I left Ithaca. My wife has raised him alone unless she has taken another husband for she must believe me dead."
The pain in Odysseus' eyes was overwhelming, now laid bare for Hector to see.
"I love my sweet Penelope as you love Andromache."
He was going to say more but Hector laid a finger against his lips in a gesture of gentleness one would normally only see on him with his wife or son.
"I understand." he said softly, his own voice reflecting Odysseus' pain. To know what Odysseus must have suffered watching him with Andromache every day... "I apologize for never considering this. I was selfish in my happiness."
"As is your right," Odysseus answered just as gently, "I am not your lover, Hector, I AM your slave. You have shown more kindness than can be expected of any master."
As ever his accuracy drove home the point Hector had been trying to conveniently ignore. But he could not do that now anymore and keep his honor intact in his own eyes.
"Then I can be your master no longer." Hector named the only way he could see though even as he said it he knew he would miss the Greek greatly. "You have served me and my family well." he continued, now putting the authority of a Trojan Prince behind his words. "I am granting you freedom from servitude. You may return to your home and family."
Odysseus looked at him quietly, calmly. "This will not sit well with your friends or your brother." he said.
Hector just shrugged with a rueful grin. "What will they do? Throw me out of Troy? I will live it down, and you know I will."
Slowly the Greek nodded, a small smile on his lips and his eyes shining now with quiet happiness. Then he bowed, not as deeply as he had done before but the polite bow of a king greeting another one. "I thank you, prince of Troy, for your generosity."
Then he looked up at Hector again, his smile growing to a grin of his own. "And I thank you, Hector, for being such a fine man and gifting me with your affection." he added, grabbed Hector by the hair and pulled him down into a fierce kiss.
--
The morning is eerily quiet. Some gulls shriek on the first breeze, the water laps gently against the rocks. A bit off, the sailors are packing the last pieces of cargo into the small boat that will take them out to the trireme waiting off the shore. They move efficiently but in silence. Too early for a chat. Time for that later when the ship is off on the morning tide.
Hector and Odysseus watch them just silently. Only a few minutes now and they will part. Hector knows the merchant who will take Odysseus back to Greece well and he has paid him well, too. He has no doubt that the man will deliver his friend safely on the other side. And Odysseus has assured him that he will find his way home once he is across the sea.
Still Hector knows that he will not sleep soundly till rumor reaches his ear that the king of Ithaca has returned home. It may be months till that happens.
"I will miss you much, my friend." he says suddenly. He has not admitted to his feelings. Had decided it would be better to remain silent. But now he has to say it anyway.
Odysseus turns his gaze from the sea and smiles at Hector. "And I will miss you, Hector of Troy." He cocks his head slightly, so much the sly fox that Hector has to smile despite the sadness he feels. "Who would have thought there would be such treasure to find in Troy." Odysseus comments dryly, smirking. "A pity I cannot take it home."
Hector shakes his head at the Greek's lightheartedness but picks up the banter. "You do not get to carry home loot when you lose, Greek." he says.
For a moment, they look at each other, both feeling the pain of parting.
Then Hector hugs the other man close, a little more than a warrior's embrace, not enough to be too telling. He feels his heart lighten as Odysseus' arms encircle him just as closely.
They separate quickly, not wanting to give each other a chance to cling. Odysseus turns to leave but Hector stops him with a hand on his arm.
"I hope this is not the last I will see of you," he says softly, "come visit, as a friend."
Odysseus' grin is wicked. "I just may," he answers, "and if I do, I will bring my wife along. I'm sure she and Andromache will have a lot to talk about."
If you enjoyed this story, please send feedback to: Beryll