Telemachus

The war bride.

Telemachus had to tell the suitors that he was going to find his father, and they had to explain to him how it was a lost cause. Causing him to hop onto the boat and barely wait for Alexandra.

"It's just they make me so mad... like, I could take them on a fight. So, what Athenea made me think fast. We're going to Sparta; they can teach me how to fight." he said as he tiredly sat down on a barrel, the cut on his cheek now fading into a strong scar.

"Telemachus... You needed Athenea to help you land one punch on Antonious, I don't think that even the Spartans can help you."

"Yeah..." he scoffed dryly. "You mean like how your dad taught you to fight." "Don't try me." she said shooting an almost playful glare, "Yes ma'am" Telemachus said as he raised his hands in mocked defeat. "So, what is your aunt's name, you talk about her a lot. "Her name is Aunt. Thats what I call her that's all you need to know, it's not like you'll be meeting her or anything."

"How could you be so sure?" he said, almost a little defensive. She wandered to the side of the ship "Because I'll make sure of it." "Ah, yes... I'm under the fearful watch of a maid servant..." he said playfully. "No, you're under the fearful watch of a Trojan." "Fair play- look! Sparta is just up ahead; I say we have about another half hour before we can dock. What's the first thing you want to do when we get there?" 

"Does avoiding my aunt and whatever "husband" she had picked out for me count?" she said. She knew that even though she was technically royalty in Sparta, that Telemachus could possibly be her husband, which wouldn't be too bad. They could get married and then live like nothing changed. But everything would have changed, no matter what happened, so she just never mentioned she was royal, didn't want to give him ideas. 

"No, it doesn't, if Menelaus has a welcome crew we have to go straight to the palace, which means your aunt, like any other Spartan would be watching the presession." "Or cheating on her husband, again." she said coolly.

As she got older, she couldn't help but blame someone, first it was her uncle Paris, then her father, then Odysseus, and then her Aunt Helen. Paris stole Helen and made the whole problem, Her father had her and only named her after insults and jokes to spite the Greeks (What man names his daughter Achilles? "to show that their strongest men are just as strong as our smallest and weakest daughters") then Odysseus because who could blame her for hating the man who killed her baby brother, letting him screech and scream as he had plummeted towards the burnt earth and corpses. Helen was next, she cheated on her husband, ran away with some boy prince barely old enough to grow a beard.

Now Alexandra was well away of the fact that Aphrodite had played a major hand in the debacle, but no one ever blames a god of love unless they want to fall in love with a pebble.

When her aunt had informed her that she was to be married to the one suitor, who's name she did not know, she of course blamed her aunt. She would of been fine hanging out with the hunters of Artimes, but she preferred the company of Telemachus. She had let herself get lost in thought as she fumbled with her satchel of herbs. She enjoyed the smells they gave off and especially enjoyed the taste of the water she would occasionally boil them in. 

She felt the ship dock and almost instantly put on her half cloak- half shawl. She delicately put up the fraying hood and said to Telemachus, "I'll see you at the palace, I am not much a fan for royal processions, enjoy the parade." And she artfully let herself get lost in the crowd. She remembered bits and pieces of the city from the half year she spent living on the island, so she took the fastest one to the palace. 

Aunt Helen better let me get this rejection over with quickly, hate to have to avoid Telemachus.

 She arrived at the palace before the parade, since they took the longest route to the palace due to a visiting prince they wanted to show off. She rushed to the throne room and tossing off her tattered and well-loved cloak spoke to Helen, who happened to be looking very regal on her Marble throne.