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At their first meeting, Odysseus did not even notice. Their reunion was more important. Looking at his sons face, ingraining every little speck, scar, dimple and feature in his memory. Never once had he looked at his sons appearance in terms of clothing, not even thinking of the matter. He unconsciously assumed that his son wore the usual, to-be-expected princes robes. He probably had a favorite pair that he refused to have cleaned until it was no longer white and got forced to hand it over.
The evening of his return, his wife had swiftly sent their son to his bathing rooms, bidding him to clean and to wash off the blood stuck to him. She had promised to see him off to bed later but had obviously noticed how the fight slowly left her husbands body. Without further ado, she led him to their shared quarters again, which they had only left to deal with the corpses and to announce his return with a promise to explain the whole matter the day after.
Odysseus felt so exhausted, the weight of his travels, constant fight or flight reflex and the sight of so many of his men and closest friends dieing to monsters, gods and just sheer stupidity dragging him down. Penelope merely guided him to their shared bed, helping him slip under their soft linens. He softly protested, sluggishly commenting on how their blankets and pillows would be soaked with blood and ruined by the morning, though she dismissed his concerns, reminding him that linens could be replaced, while his absence could never be filled.
With those words, he let himself drift off into a restful sleep after years upon years of terror and grief. He was home with his beloved wife and son. Odysseus barely noticed his wife joining him, placing his head on her chest as she cuddled up closer to him, never wanting to let go again. The last thing he recalled of that night was his wife’s soft heartbeat lulling him under further.
After waking early the next day and spending at least an hour simply lying next to each other, keeping constant touch to convince themselves that they were indeed reunited yet again, Penelope quickly whisked Odysseus away to their shared bathing rooms. She stated that she loved him deeply but that he indeed quite reeked of mauled suitors, making him laugh a bit. Gods he had missed his wife and her infallible humor.
Odysseus took his time in the bath, scrubbing the dried liquid off of his arms, hands, legs and face. He had discarded his ripped and bloodied clothes in a random corner of the room to be thrown out after giving them a quick once over and deeming them a lost cause. Penelope, after finishing her own cleaning regiment, had lovingly taken to attempting to fix up his dry, frizzy hair. Only seawater and no soap had not done his once silky locks and favors, though through the extensive use of vinegar and oils, his lovely wife slowly managed to clean and untangle it into something more recognizable than a messy rats nest.
With a kiss to his forehead, Odysseus dragged himself from the bath and made his way over to the small stack of towels, giving the first to his wife before drying himself as well with the next one. With another fresh towel tied around his waist, he reentered their shared bedroom, making way for his old wardrobe.
„I have not opened it since the day you left so your robes might be a bit dusty. It was too painful to me.“, Penelope admitted to him, placing her hands on his broad shoulders, resting her brow on his nape. Odysseus caressed his wife‘s hand on his right shoulder: „It is fine, my love. I have survived worse than a mere bit of dust.“, he met her slight smile.
When he opened the door to his wardrobe, he definitely expected the mentioned dust cloud to escape the piece of furniture as well as a full closet of clothes. Instead he was met with almost complete emptiness aside from some undergarments and a few of his bigger robes that did not even fit him well back before he joined the war against Troy.
Odysseus looked back at Penelope in confusion: „Are you sure no maid rearranged or stored my wardrobe someplace else to make room for other pieces of clothing?“ His wife met his gaze with confusion. „Not that I believe so. A maid offered to store your clothing in a chest in the storerooms but I asked her and the other maids to leave all of your possessions as they were which they, of course, agreed to. Why do you ask my love?“ He moved aside to show his wife the apparent missing clothes, jewelry and boots.
Penelope moved in closer, confusion still apparent on her face. After a while of thinking of possible reasons for his missing wardrobe, Odysseus settled on wearing some of his older, still remaining robes, which he had been gifted as a wedding gift by some well-wishing guests. They had always been way too big for him and at this very moment, one could say he was swimming in them instead. He has never been extremely bulky but after his 20 years away from home with nary a moment of peace, he had lost even more weight.
A belt or two aided him in keeping his garment on his body. The last thing he wished to to was to traumatize a poor unassuming maid or his unsuspecting son in the halls. Thinking of his son though: „Telemachus!“, Odysseus exclaimed excitedly. Penelope giggled slightly, smiling at the innocent delight her husband showed when thinking of their son. 20 years were a lot of time they had to catch up on after all.
Hand in hand, smiling and with stars in their eyes for each other like when they were still young, Penelope and Odysseus made their way to their private feasting hall. On their way, Odysseus noticed how some corridors had been blocked of. A few white sheets were still covering big lumps on the ground, though the floors themselves had been scrubbed clean. Soon there would be no evidence of the previous night and the massacre that had occurred. The pair looked at each other, only tentative relief visible in their eyes.
With a small breath, the two of them entered their private little hall, which was essentially just a smaller version of their huge dining hall. For just the two of them — now three — it was always too big. The little table had already been prepared by the kitchen and some maids, who stood readily available to the side to aid their king and queen and served them their breakfast as soon as the pair sat on their seats, opposite of each other.
When Penelope took her first bowl of raisins and some bread, Odysseus tilted his head and asked: „Should we wait for our son?“ Penelope smiled and shook her head fondly, „He usually sleeps a little longer than I do. He will still join us in a few minutes.“ Odysseus nodded at his wife with just as much fondness and love.
A few minutes later, just as expected, the door swung open once again and in strolled his son, an elated expression evident on his face, speaking tales of his happiness. At least that was the first thing Odysseus noted. Then he took a look at the rest of his child as well, causing a sudden realization.
Telemachus was quite obviously wearing one of Odysseus‘ favorite old garment as well as one of his light blue capes that doubled as a belt on his sons figure since it was too big for him to wear as intended. Additionally, Odysseus figured out where some (and probably also the rest) of his jewelry had gone, as Telemachus wore two of his rings, a pair of his earrings and one of his pendants that showed his allegiance and friendship with the goddess Athena.
His son seemed entirely oblivious to his and his wife‘s stumped expressions. Telemachus confidently approached happily and plopped down next to Odysseus, two maids swiftly serving him his breakfast, which he started to devour instantly. Pretty quickly though, his son noticed that something was amiss as he and his mother had stopped moving and were staring at him intently with underlying fondness and surprise.
Looking at him, Telemachus followed his eyes movement, noticing how he looked up and down his form. Only a second later, it suddenly dawned on him what was happening as he noticed that he was wearing — while his usually favorite pieces of clothing — in his dads presence! His face immediately shot up with redness.
Back when he was still a teenager and missing his father especially badly, right around the time the first of the suitors showed up, Telemachus had decided to raid his dads closet, hoping to gather some of his clothes to keep in his room, so he had at least something of his dads close to him. When he found out, that most of the clothes actually fit him if he wore a belt as well, Telemachus had quickly gathered more pieces to add to his daily appearance. After some time, he had pretty much acquired all of his fathers clothes that at least barely fit him in one way or another.
Wearing the garments not only made him feel stronger and closer to his father, but also made him feel braver in his own home, while his mothers suitors ransacked and desecrated their halls. It was as if his father was hugging him tight, whispering encouraging words to him and giving him comfort when he felt like he would soon break from all of his responsibilities as well as protecting his mother from the vile men, roaming the same rooms as they did.
Telemachus quickly shot up, abandoning his plate, spouting a long tirade of embarrassed apologies, while promising to return all of his stolen — well… borrowed — pieces, already turning around to rush back to his room to start gathering his fathers possessions and only stopped when a big hand carefully grabbed his right forearm, stopping him in his tracks.
Odysseus stood up and carefully put an arm around his sons shoulders as to not freak his poor child more than he already was. Slowly, he sat back down, guiding his son to mimic his movement to take a seat himself as well. With care, he stroked his sons shoulder reassuringly to dampen some of his embarrassment and shock.
He smiled proudly at his wife, who was hiding her amusement and quiet laughter under her breath a bit unsuccessfully. „My beautiful beloved wife, I shall take a visit with a tailor today to commission a new wardrobe. It seems like a little owl kit has nicked my old one.“, Odysseus quipped, making Telemachus let out embarrassed noises under his breath, hiding his red face in his hands. His dad pulled him towards himself, allowing his son to hide his face in his hair, who was still mumbling apologies and justifications.
„Peace, Telemachus, my son. It is fine, I am not offended. This is actually very endearing of you. I am happy that I could at least be there for you in this way, while I was forced away from our home. Please keep them. I promise, I can always acquire more clothing and if those pieces are special for you, I shall never take them away. They are yours now, after all.“, Odysseus reassured his son, who was slowly emerging from his dads side, still red-faced and still obviously embarrassed.
„Now, finish breakfast, my son. Today we shall only briefly address our people with the news and answer some questions. I will ask the maid to prepare some refreshments and our lunch to be taken outside. Today we shall take our first day as a whole family in so long and catch up on some of our lost time together. I am sure Telemachus has already heard every story under the sun and moon about you, my Odysseus but I am quite sure he cannot wait to press you for all of them again as well as new ones, my love.“, Penelope shared, grinning widely at her two favorite people.
Odysseus nodded enthusiastically: „What a beautiful idea, my love. And if you wish to hear them, I will tell you every story I know, Telemachus.“ Telemachus only nodded in agreement, face redder than ever. He already knew that an era of embarrassment had started for him but he could not wait for it to start either. He could not wait to start getting to know his father, the man he had always looked up to, hoping for strength, guidance and words of encouragement, no matter how imaginary those were.
He smiled slightly as his dad pulled him closer once more, hugging him tightly and giving him a kiss on his hair. For years he had worried about his father not accepting him, thinking him to weak, frail, too stupid, too inexperienced, too incapable of protecting his mother in his absence, simply too everything negative one could think of. Never had he imagined this simple and unconditional love, acceptance and the most unbelievable thing he could grasp: pride.
His father was proud of him.
He was sad that he could not have been there for him.
He came home, not only for his mother but for him as well.
His father wanted to know everything about him.
He wished to know his likes and dislikes.
He wanted him to keep his stolen clothing pieces even though he probably needed them himself simply because Telemachus loved having and wearing them.
His father was home…
And his father loved him!