╰┈➤𝐆𝐎𝐃𝐋𝐘 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 ━━ ❝You've always been my little muse.❞
𝗜𝗡 𝗪𝗛𝗜𝗖𝗛- you're the object of many powerful men desires; from gods to warriors...they all want 𝘺𝘰𝘶.
‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾ 🇵🇴🇸🇹-ᴇᴘɪᴄ: ᴛᴍ!ᴀᴜ ☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙
📖A mythic slow-burn, spiralin...
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━ ⭒─⭑━
The next morning came quickly.
Too quickly.
The sky was barely awake, just beginning to blush with early light. A soft fog clung to the edges of the port, curling around ropes and crates and the low murmur of crew voices.
You stood on the stone pier, breathing in the sharp scent of salt and damp wood and tide—sea air heavy with gull cries and possibility. The ocean stretched out ahead of you, slow and endless, the waves lapping against the hull of the small ship like a quiet promise.
Lady sat pressed to your side, her body warm against your calf, tail flicking idly as her nose twitched at every smell. She sneezed once, snorting, then settled again—watchful and quiet.
Your sack was slung over one shoulder, heavy with only what mattered.
A clean set of clothes. Rations. Small, necessary tools. The wrap of your dagger belt, tucked just beneath your coat. And at the very top—cradled in fabric as soft as you could find—your divine lyre, sealed in its case, humming faintly like it knew it was going somewhere important.
You shifted the strap on your shoulder and exhaled slowly, watching your breath fog out in front of you.
Then—footsteps behind you.
Heavy. Steady. Familiar.
You didn't even need to turn before you felt Diomedes stop just beside you.
He didn't say anything for a long moment.
Just looked out at the sea with you.
Then he spoke, voice low and clear, the kind of voice that never needed to be raised to be heard.
"You know," he said, "when Odysseus left for war, he didn't say goodbye to anyone but Penelope. Left in the dark. No speech. No fuss."
You glanced at him, brows raised. "That a recommendation?"
He huffed. "Not at all. I've always found a good send-off matters. Makes the silence after feel less... empty."
You went quiet.
His arms crossed.
He nodded once toward the ship. "This isn't war. But you treat it like a mission anyway."
You opened your mouth to reply, but he kept going, eyes still forward.
"I've trained you to react. To hold your ground. To see what others don't. You know how to move now. How to listen. How to survive."
