ALIBI! | oneshots

TELL ME, ATHENA. - THE ODYSSEY

LAE'S DRABBLE!

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— CONTAINS: BASED OFF OF EPIC: THE MUSICAL'S INTERPRETATION OF THE ODYSSEY, TELEMACHUS'S FIGHT WITH ANTINOUS. DEPICTIONS OF VIOLENCE.
— EPIC: THE MUSICAL/THE ODYSSEY
— NOTE: THIS IS INSPIRED OFF OF EPIC: THE MUSICAL'S INTERPRETATION OF THE ODYSSEY AND NOT THE HOMERIC TALE ITSELF. EXPECT DIFFERENCES IN STORYLINE, CHARACTERS, AND ATTITUDES.

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Yet again, Telemachus found himself idly standing by as his mother's suitors ate straight through their riches. They sloppily slaughtered each of the cows and ate them straight to the bone, choking each morsel down with the wine that his family'd been aging carefully and saving for his father's return. They'd turned the dining hall into that of a pigsty; knives that the men had violently stabbed straight through the fine craftsmenship of their tables and through his mother's tapestries marking just about each inch of the room.

His mother—Penelope, the wonderful woman—spent her days in her room weaving a shroud for his late grandfather. When the suitors would pound on her door, rushing her to pick the new king of Ithaca, she simply brushed them off and promised them to remarry again once she'd finished weaving. Telemachus would visit his mother's room each night, watching her tearful eyes scan her work before ripping into the weavings of the shroud and tearing it apart to pieces. The moments he'd seen his mother so vulenerable were quite rare, but those moments were always the most painful.

"Boy," Telemachus was torn out of his reverie by the sound the leader of the suitors' voice, Antinous. "Why must you stand in the corner so stiffly? Come, sit and eat with us."

The shallow kindness always irked him; this was just Antinous's way to ask Telemachus about his mother. "I prefer not to keep myself around this part of the house. I shall remain here."

"Why is that?"

The very question soiled the remaining bit of patience he had for these unwelcome guests. "Why? Oh, look at the mess your men have made. You have ate straight through my father's wealth, drank to your heart's content, and ordered the maids around to your pleasure. You treat everyday like a never-ending feast whilst my mother and I find ourselves having to deal with the consequences."

"You complain of our presence yet you do little to accommodate us," Antinous shot back.

"My mother is in the company of Ctimene and is weaving a shroud for her late father-in-law."

Antinous spoke, "your mother is a woman of deceit. She claims to be weaving this shroud for her father-in-law for years, and if we'd not been informed we would still believe her, but one of her maids reported to me of your mother's wrongdoings."

"My mother is not a deceiver—!"

"Each night once we're all asleep, she tears apart this shroud."

Telemachus found himself unable to retaliate; his mother's maid had told the suitors of her lies and now he could do little to defend her.

"And boy," he continued, "you held your tongue for your mother, did you not? If anything, I'd ought to angry at you, but I invite you to sit with me and eat. Tell me, Telemachus, am I not a kind soul?"