Adresteia played with her goddaughter while her hosts prepared dinner. The king and of Ithaca chopped fruit and vegetables while his queen prepared a stew. They had slaves, of course – no family in ancient Greece could prosper without them – but Penelope had always treated that aspect of Achaean society as a necessary evil. After Odysseus became Ithaca’s king, they had talked about what he might do with his power, but in the end, pragmatism had overshadowed idealism.
Even if emancipation wouldn’t have led to a bloody coup, the fact of the matter was that without slaves there would still be work to do, and it would have to be done by paid laborers. Unfortunately, while shifting the economic balance of the island downward would have been more just, it would have starved the coffers that paid for Ithaca’s defense. Although Agamemnon’s non-aggression pact discouraged conflict within Greece, no one trusted the strength of that treaty enough to leave themselves incapable of defending themselves from their neighbors. Odysseus had been forced to choose between the welfare of Ithaca’s lowest class and its national security, and as king he’d reluctantly chosen security. Still, Penelope insisted Odysseus not assign a slave to any tasks that they might do just as well themselves – chief among them, cooking.
Little Addy showed her namesake a wooden owl her father had carved for her. It was splotched with bright colors – the young girl explained that she had tried to make it beautiful using some extra paint she’d found, but it hadn’t gone well. Adresteia praised the unconventional choice of colors, saying that it challenged the restrictive norms of Achaean art, and showed that the artist was a girl of strong will and independence. Addy continued showing various toys and craft projects to the goddess until Odysseus brought the girl her supper.
“Mama and papa have to talk about some important things with Adresteia,” he told her, “If you can eat your dinner in your room and look after your little brother, you can stay up as late as you want.”
The girl reluctantly agreed, and after kissing both her parents goodnight and hugging Adresteia, she disappeared to the room she shared with Telemachus’s bassinet. The family was affluent enough to have multiple rooms in their home, but not so outrageously wealthy that the children could sleep in different rooms.
Penelope started to comment on how good Adresteia was with children – it was remarkable given that the goddess sometimes struggled to understand mortal concerns – but then she remembered that Adresteia had chosen to give up her own children, and thought better of it. Instead she decided to get to business.
“So,” she started, “What’s really going on with this war?”
Adresteia swallowed some of her stew before answering, “I know Athena has been planning around it for a long time. I don’t know for certain whether she orchestrated the war, or if she simply saw it as an inevitability, but I know that she has a lot riding on it.”
“Of what concern is it to the gods?” Penelope asked.
“Relationships on Olympus have been strained lately, both without and within. As Athena said, the gods have all invested in different ways, and this puts them potentially at odds with one another.”
“So a war between Greece and Troa means a war between the gods,” Odysseus said.
“And we all know how Athena feels about most of her elder gods,” Adresteia nodded, “When I agreed to work with her… thirty years ago now? Athena swore that the hubris and cruelty of Zeus and Hera would be severely punished, and that once we were done no god would ever abuse their powers to the detriment of man, ever again.”
“It’s nice that she swore to do that, but Athena’s not exactly trustworthy,” Penelope pointed out.
“True,” Adresteia conceded, “but while she may not be honest about how she intends to do something, she is usually reliable about doing it.”
“So you think she’s orchestrated a war between the gods to remove Zeus and Hera from power?” Odysseus asked.
“I have no doubt that is the end goal, yes.”
“Who will side with Greece?” Penelope asked, “And who will my husband be going to war against?”
“Athena grew up in Attica, so she won’t be seen doing anything that’s not supportive of the Greek war effort. Besides having an old grudge against Agamemnon and Menelaus’s in-laws, Aphrodite will shield Paris from any reprisals his abduction of Helen brings. She’ll likely protect Troy so long as Paris remains in the city. Poseidon built Troy’s walls, so he can’t allow them to fall to the Greeks – it would look bad.”
“If Poseidon is against Greece, how can Athena expect our ships to cross he waters to Troy?” Penelope asked.
“If Poseidon tries to stop the invasion before it reaches the walls of Troy, it’ll look like he has no faith in his own handiwork. He won’t intervene until the attack begins. Apollo helped Poseidon build those walls, and generally has maintained better ties in Troy than in Greece, so even the slightest insult will likely send him to Troy’s side.”
“Given how close Apollo and Athena are, that’s probably part of Athena’s plan,” Odysseus said.
“I will admit, it’s hard to imagine the two of them in conflict with one another. Apollo has also mended his once strained relationship with Artemis, so if or when he declares for Troy, she will likely join him. Hestia habitually sides with the defending faction in any conflict, so she will likely side with Troy.”
“Well, Hestia’s not exactly a big threat on the battlefield, is she?” Penelope asked.
“No,” Odysseus said, “But if this war turns into a siege, it may be difficult to drive the Trojans from their homes with Hestia using her charms to stretch their rations and keep their drinking water clean.”
“Poseidon, Aphrodite, Apollo, Artemis, and Hestia, all for Troy? Is it Athena against everyone, then?” Penelope asked.
“Not quite,” Adresteia said, “Aphrodite’s intervention in Menelaus and Helen’s marriage was as much an insult to Hera as it was to Menelaus, and she’s many fold vainer. She’s never much cared for her younger sister anyway, so it seems likely that she’ll support the Greeks. Viciously. Since Hephaestus divorced Aphrodite, you can be almost certain he will side with his mother, despite their bad history. Though Ares is still sleeping with Aphrodite, he’s obligated to side with the attacker in any conflict, so as long as the Greeks are on offense, and do nothing to personally aggrieve him, he’ll also side with his mother. Zeus will strive for neutrality, of course, because he isn’t a complete fool, and he will try to curb conflict between the gods. Hermes loves diplomacy and free trade, so I’m sure he will do whatever he can to advocate for a peaceful resolution to the conflict. Demeter will likely do so as well. Dionysus… who knows? His loyalties will likely change every afternoon he gets out of bed.”
“What of Hades and Persephone?” Odysseus asked.
“There is tension between Hades and Zeus over the death of Herakles, but nothing has set them to war against each other so far, and I doubt this will do so. Hades has no more investment in Troy than he has in Greece. He and Persephone don’t offer their favor readily, so they won’t be obligated to anyone.”
“So our gods will be outnumbered,” Odysseus said, “but we get two gods of war and the god of fire and weapons. Those aren’t bad odds from my point-of-view.”
“How does it work though?” Penelope asked, “If the negotiations fall through, will the gods simply line up on the beach and… fight?”
“No such luck,” Adresteia said, “If anyone of them kills another god, Zeus will descend upon them with the full fury of his wrath. I’d give either Poseidon or Hera even odds, but they won’t risk a fair fight with him. So they’ll avoid shedding Olympian blood, and instead fight by proxy, using mortals, monsters, and lesser gods to kill each other.”
“I hope Priam sees reason,” Penelope imagined that the carnage of such a war would be beyond anything the world had seen for hundreds of years.
They spent the rest of the night working out what needed to be done before Odysseus could leave Greece – tax plans, crop rotations, infrastructural projects – As Ithaca’s queen, Penelope would have to take full responsibility for all of it. Odysseus would have to run a number of errands about Greece before they could leave for Troy, and meeting Agamemnon’s deadline meant they could not afford to tarry.
Odysseus said goodbye to his wife and children the next morning, pulling his woolen chlamys around himself. Greece was warm, but they were leaving early enough that the sea breeze across Ithaca was chilly.
"My helped run Ithaca for thirty years," Odysseus said, "I'm sure that between the two of you, you can more than handle it. Hell, people might not even want me back when the war is over."
"Well, fortunately for you they won't have a say in the matter - I rule with an iron fist."
"Uh huh. An iron fist that's likely to emancipate our slaves and burn our banners the second I set sail."
"Hm, I'd be the only queen to ever lead a revolution against herself. At least our historians might remember that. Speaking of remembering..." Penelope retrieved a wrapped object from a storage chest, "you almost forgot your bow." She unwrapped it, and revealed a strange contraption with wheels.
"That's a bow?" Adresteia asked, "It doesn't look like a bow."
"It was a gift from Hephaestus," Odysseus said, "He and Charis came to visit just after your last drop in."
"They heard about Telemachus's birth," Penelope said, "and wanted to honor the next prince of Ithaca."
"That's... random."
"Apparently," Odysseus said, "Zeus never taught Hephaestus to shoot a bow. He taught Apollo, Artemis, and Ares, but he never took Hephaestus to the range. So, this bow was a gift with a condition - that I promise to teach my son to shoot it one day."
"I can shoot it," Little Addy grinned, "Though not as far as papa."
"Oh, honey," Penelope patted the girl on the shoulder, "You can string it. I think that's honestly more impressive."
"It's a bit of a puzzle," Odysseys said, "Hephaestus didn't leave instructions, and it took me a while to figure out."
"You almost lost an eye," Penelope shook her head.
"The gifts of the gods usually come with a price," Adresteia said, "But I sense no dark magic about this weapon. Only its bizarre construction and strange materials. If we must face war in Troy, it's a powerful weapon to have."
"No, When I took it, I promised Hephaestus I'd teach Telemachus to string it and shoot it. If there's to be a war, there are many things that could prevent that from happening."
"Don't talk like that," Penelope glanced at their daughter and gave her husband a pleading look.
Odysseus changed his tone as he wrapped the bow back up, "I just mean, I'd hate to take it to Troy and end up loosing it or breaking it. We always tell Addy to keep her favorite toys at home, so that's where my bow should stay."
He hoisted Addy up with one arm and embraced Penelope and Telemachus with his other arm.
"I can't promise I'll come back," Odysseus told them, "But I promise I will do whatever it takes to get back to you. It doesn't matter who stands in my way - Trojans, Greeks, or even the gods - I will take on whoever I have to, do whatever I have to, to come home to you."
As Odysseus sang Telemachus one last lullaby, Penelope embraced Adresteia, “Promise me you’ll take care of him, Addy.”
“I promise, Penny,” it had taken Adresteia years to accept the use of pet names when interacting with mortals, but Penelope had been the first to earn one from Adresteia.
Penelope squeezed her and then stepped back a bit to look her over fully – the woman looked exactly as she had when she had met her ten years ago. There were no signs of age or of the childbirth and years of motherhood that had made Penelope self-conscious about her own body.
“Not too good of care, mind you,” she teased the goddess, “Keep each other in good spirits if you feel the need, but I want my husband back when this is over.”
“You have my word,” Adresteia said, “I will see Odysseus returned to you alive and well. Just like the old days.”
“Hm,” Odysseus nodded as he cradled Telemachus one more time and hugged little Addy, “Just like the old days. Just like the old days you and I have our own mission to carry out before we get underway.”
“And what is that?”
“Achilles,” Odysseus said, “No one’s seen him in over a year, and if I have any hope of surviving what comes, we’ll need him.”
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