Fight, Little Wolf! || The Song of Achilles + PostHomerica Fanfiction

ONE

A bargain:

A trade, materialistic or not.

What is the meaning, that sophisticated excuse of a deal?

A mind trick, a manipulative, desperate measure?

Always the ultimatum when there is nothing left?

Is it meant to stick, to affect the lives of both parties who agreed to do what they will?

How about affect those who were not meant to make a show in the prior agreement?

Am I hinting at something?

Yes, indeed I am.

. . .

At first, we were stable, content, happy. An odd feeling, one that you would assume be felt constantly.

I, at the time, was seventeen, naive of anything beyond my family unit and our city-state, Ithaca, which was fairly small and mountainous, comforting in a way. In my age, I valued my home more than anything, I would be the first to action if anything was at stake. At that time, paranoia and anxiety had not reached or destroyed my innocent and strong mindset of doing so.

My home, quite literally, was my family. They were my world, my drive, my foundation, no one else could give as much. We were in our own little world, a circle of warmth and safety, even, a fairly rare thing that, while it lasted, shaped the warmth of my heart.

I felt admiration for them, always. My mother, Penelope, who was intelligent, fair, and sharp. I felt connected with her the most, I am aware I inherited her features of appearance, but not only that, I always saw and felt her contentedness, in marriage and more, which was honestly rare with the other women around me.

As for my father, Odysseus, who was not necessarily a king quite yet, but took on duties as so, was considered one. He was a favorite of Athena, the goddess of wisdom and arts of war, and as I was raised, I could understand why. I knew from the beginning we shared a mind and personality; Cunning, swift, fairly extroverted and audacious, but can not really conquer ruthlessness, no matter how hard and much we try. Though, that gave a sense of security when we interacted, knowing that competition was not of our nature.

Then, my brother, Telemachus, the light of my life. How do I even explain my love for him in words? He was my best friend, though recently born at that time, he was a beacon of happiness, the peak, for myself and my parents. They finally bore an heir, and I got a sibling, a friend, as young as he was. I did not know who he was going to age to become, however, we shared an inseparable bond from the day that he was born, I saw traits of mine in him, that was enough to complete my entire world.

At least, it was complete and brought joy while it lasted.

. . .

I remember the day that they came for him.

I remember it vividly, the beginning of the current end; I was outside of the palace alongside the family's hound, Argos, whom I love absolutely dearly, he was my first friend. It was a humid day, the sun was placed high, representing the fullest of the afternoon, however, it was, only slightly, beginning to set. I happened to look up from him, my eyes scanning the area. My gaze swung around then back, but then snapped when movement was noticed. Abnormal movement. They were tall, grand silhouettes from what I could tell on ocean-level, they were far away, slowly approaching, however. I, not alarmed, only confused, debated on what to do. Argos, who's energy regenerated once he had also scanned motion, released sharp and slightly obnoxious barks, not a pleasant sound, but one of attentiveness. We agreed on one thing; Something was amiss. I did not believe that a threat was near, but I could not ignore that my heart felt like it was falling lower and lower in my chest.