GREEK GODS X MALE READER

ODYSSEUS

Ilios had always dreamed of the open sea. Born in a small coastal town, he had grown up hearing stories of Odysseus, the clever king of Ithaca. To Ilios, these were more than just tales—they were promises of adventure, freedom, and a life beyond the confines of his mundane world.

When word spread that Odysseus was on a journey home, Ilios made a reckless decision: he would join the famed warrior. In the dead of night, he had slipped aboard the ship, hidden away with only his cloak and the hope that no one would discover him. Days had passed in silence as Ilios skulked below deck, living off scraps and water, listening to the conversations above and praying he wouldn’t be found.

But luck, as the gods often reminded mortals, was fickle.

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As Odysseus paced along the deck, his sharp instincts told him something was amiss. His eyes narrowed, and with a few strides, he descended below, moving through the dimly lit quarters with a sense of purpose.

Ilios, crouched in a dark corner, tried to remain still as he heard the footsteps approaching. His heart raced, pounding loudly in his ears. Maybe if he held his breath, Odysseus would pass by.

But the clever king of Ithaca was not easily fooled.

Odysseus stopped, his gaze sweeping over the shadowed hold of the ship, until his eyes settled on the faint outline of the stowaway. A low growl rumbled from his throat.

“Come out,” Odysseus commanded, his voice steady but firm.

Ilios didn’t move.

“I said, come out,” Odysseus repeated, his patience thinning.

Slowly, Ilios emerged from the shadows, his hands raised in surrender. His face was pale, but there was a flicker of defiance in his eyes as he met Odysseus’ intense gaze.

“Who are you?” Odysseus demanded, stepping closer, towering over the younger man. “And why are you on my ship?”

Ilios swallowed hard but forced himself to speak. “My name is Ilios. I… I wanted to join your crew.”

Odysseus raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed. “You think you can simply stow away on my ship and be welcomed as part of the crew? Foolish boy.”

“I’m not a boy!” Ilios retorted, his voice cracking slightly under the weight of his fear and desperation. “I’m a man—just like the rest of them. I can fight, I can work. I just… I wanted to be part of something more.”

Odysseus stared at him for a long moment, his expression unreadable. “And you thought sneaking aboard was the way to achieve that?”

“I didn’t have any other choice,” Ilios said, his voice softer now, his bravado faltering. “I couldn’t stay in my village anymore. I’ve heard the stories of your journey. I wanted to be part of it, to serve under you.”

Odysseus crossed his arms, eyes narrowing. “Do you even know what you’re asking for? The sea is no place for dreamers and fools. It’s not a life of glory and adventure—it’s death and suffering, hardships at every turn. Many of my men have died. The gods themselves are against us.”

“I know the risks,” Ilios insisted, his voice growing more confident again. “I’m willing to take them.”

Odysseus’ eyes bore into him, searching for weakness. But Ilios stood his ground, refusing to look away. There was a fire in his gaze, a determination that Odysseus recognized—one that mirrored his own when he had set out on his own perilous journey years ago.

After what felt like an eternity, Odysseus sighed, his stern expression softening ever so slightly. “You are either very brave or very foolish,” he muttered. “Perhaps both.”