A trio of drabbles done for challenge #3 at
demigod_elite . They can be read individually or together in sequence.
Drabble: In which Odysseus is not the hero. Pg. 423 words. Calypso/Odysseus, unrequited. Hermes.
Odysseus was the consummate actor.
That, Calypso knew now. She had learnt her lesson thoroughly. Did he love her? She didn’t know. He professed that he did. But now he sobbed his heart out on her island, knowing that the gods are watching, knowing his patroness Athena will soon send aid for him. She wished she could let him go, but seven years has ingrained him so deeply into her being, she could not, for the life of her, let him go.
It would be more painful than death if she let him go now. Yet she must, for he made it painfully clear he did not want her. How the other immortals would scorn her, if they knew the depth of her unrequited passions.
She should have known it wouldn’t last. How could it when she was cursed to solitude for all eternity? But she was lolled by his sweet words into a false sense of security and contentment. Night after night he played the willing lover, the caring husband, and little by little she was lost. He never refused her offer for him to stay, nor did he welcome it. His way with words made the listener believe what they desired without offering any truth. Calypso did not care for words, but his devotion to her in the beginning was beyond reproach. So it went on, and on.
Till one day Calypso realized, as her sons played beside her loom, Hermes was waiting to take her family away from her.*
She raged. Oh she raged. Out of bitterness and despair, she lashed out at Hermes because he was the only one of the gods luckless enough to come to her island. Ultimately however, she did not have the strength to fight against Fate. Ultimately, she knew the gods have been generous.
She didn’t know what would happen if she tries to leave Ogygia, but if anything would convince Atropos to cut her thread it would be to disobey Zeus’ decree. So for a while she experienced a fate worse than mortal death in the deepest pits of Tartarus, till Hermes took pity on her and took her back to her island. She didn’t think the other gods cared either way.
As he fed her ambrosia while she lay in her cave, crisp white sheets soaked with ichor, he asked: ‘Why so foolish? Why so reckless?’
‘You know why.’ She answered simply. Powerless and unfeeling.
Hermes nodded gravely, his gaze downward and heavy with sadness.
The other gods, the other gods - they glanced her way once a few thousand years, and saw nothing but a Titan’s daughter waiting to enchant her next hero.
She’s actually waiting to die. If she ever could.
* According to the Theogony by Hesiod, Calypso bore Odysseus two sons: Nausithoos and Nausinoos.
~ ~ ~
Dabble: Just one more hero. Follows In which Odysseus is not the hero. Pg. 430 words. Percy/Calypso
Strangely, Calypso thinks of Odysseus for a fleeting moment as Percy told her of his world - this Manhattan of his - and bizarre occurrences she would not have imagined in all her millenniums. He is much younger than Odysseus, not much more than a child really, a child who was thrust into the world of the gods, trying to survive its turbulent waters and raging infernos.
Mostly, as he speaks animatedly, it strikes her how pure this particular hero of hers is. It’s clear that he has been through many grueling trials, yet he treats her with kindness, honesty and true affection - things that she thought lost to her long ago. He is innocent. He does not know of the only thing that a man wants from her - not yet. So she is more than content with his stories.
He speaks of hatred for his enemy: her grandfather, naturally; and a friend who betrayed him when he was even more innocent than he is now. But she sees the flash of hurt in his eyes veiled by anger, and she knows it’s not really hatred. Not true hatred anyway, whatever he may think. She is surprised to learn that the man he speaks of is a son of Hermes, and she wonders if she should ask the Messenger God when he is next on her island, for he is bound to be here soon. Again.
That thought abruptly halts her meandering reflections.
Hermes had been there before Percy had woken. He had reminded her of her curse - as if she could forget - he should know better than most.
‘He will bring you heartbreak, nothing more. Take heed, Calypso.’
Hermes was right. Nevertheless it hurt to think of it.
For now, she lets him help her plant her moonlace. Whenever he gives her that look that’s part incredulous and part worship, she pulls back a little more - her laugh bleaches ever drier of joy. She surprises herself that she can even laugh at all, but Percy has brought warmth to the frozen landscape of her inner island.
In the end though, he was just another hero. Another to send away, another to dream of, another to remember and forget. Another to rip a little of her heart away. Hermes was right. Hermes has always been right.
Calypso did not know until later, that this hero was different from all the rest. This hero was truly worthy of her affections. This one would cut her chains and right her wrongs. This one would truly save her, just not in the way she thought.
~ ~ ~
Drabble: The only constant. Follows In which Odysseus is not the hero and Just one more hero. Pg. 639 words. Hermes/Calypso
Hermes is mercurial in nature. There are hardly any changes of obstacles he cannot adapt to or conquer. This time, however, no matter how determined he is, he cannot reconcile himself with Luke’s death. Grief weights heavily on his mind, and yet as a god, he has responsibilities he could not ignore.
Time, he told himself. In time Luke will be forgotten. His nature will save himself. Is he fooling himself? For once, he doesn’t know.
***
After he first delivers the news of her freedom, Calypso says nothing. A storm of emotion rages in her eyes, but her face is calm. Finally, she asks: ‘What troubles you, Lord Hermes?’
Hermes is startled by the question. Then he thinks of his dead son. His eyes cloud over with moisture which desperately tries to blink away. He had not thought his emotional state was so fragile.
Calypso is not fooled. ‘Come, Lord Hermes. Tell me of your hurts in this war, and I may sooth them.’
Hermes wants to shake his head, but her gentle voice is unwaveringly kind.
So he ends up telling her all about the war, how his son had betrayed him, how it was completely his fault, how he knew but could do absolutely noting. He has told her many such stories before, news that he had collected in his travels, developments on Olympus and such. But never did he confide in her thus, never did she tentatively squeeze his hand to give him comfort. Never had him been more comforted. Yes. Even gods needed comfort.
He thinks of the time he brought her back from Tartarus, after she’d lost Odysseus. He wanted to tell her that though he was reluctant to come to her island, it was not because it was a gods-forsaken place. He did not want to deliver the message that would tear her apart, like he did so many times in the past. That look of outraged anguish was nonsensically difficult for him to bear.
No more. No more of these blasted messages. She could be happy now. No more incarceration, no more yearning, no more unrequited love.
Hermes had lost something precious to him in the war. But it has brought Calypso’s freedom. Suddenly, his heart felt a little lighter.
‘Come away with me.’ He suddenly says.
Calypso looks at him with surprise, hesitating. ‘I’m not much for traveling.’
Hermes wants to rescind the impulsive invitation immediately, but Calypso continued.
‘Do you know,’ Calypso murmured quietly almost musing, ‘I think you’re the only one who has ever visited me more than once. I could count on seeing you every millennium, sometimes even more. I could count on your stories and your company. I could count on you to be constant.’
He understands. He understands how precious he has been to her through the long years, in her world of utter isolation and infidelity.
There, her gaze grows more intense: ‘I think I’d like to leave. I would like to be anywhere you are. You took care of me once. I’d like to be there for you now.’
Hermes says gently: ‘I would not wish for you to feel obliged.’ Do you really think you can be with me?
‘I am not.’ Calypso answers. ‘I will do this for your sake as well as mine. I should like to see the world with you, I think.’ No-one has ever asked me to be theirs. I think I can take this chance with you.
Hermes brushes Calypso’s face gently with his knuckles. He has never really had any constants in his life. Perhaps now Calypso will help him as he helped her. Perhaps this time, his changeable nature will not be left by itself to grapple with his wounds, and by the Styx, he won’t ever leave her again to endure solitude and despair.