Gone
Um ... an angsty Eurylochus x Ctimene oneshot, bc why not
For the best experience, listen to sad Titanic instrumentals in the background
Also, here's a little piano thing I thought of for Ctimene, with Ody's guitar motif and Eury's Luck Runs Out motif
Under a small cliff in a hidden cove just beside the harbor stood a majestic olive tree, similar to the one in the palace courtyard—its roots buried sturdily in the ground; its branches wedged into the rock behind it. Its leaves rustled in the wind, blending with the gentle crash of waves along the shoreline. Sunrise stretched its rosy fingers over the horizon and spread its light over the wine-dark sea, bathing the world in a golden hue.
Two figures sat at the base of the tree, their fingers laced together like the branches above their heads. One, a man, was tall, broad, and sturdily built. The other was just the opposite—a woman, short and lean. Neither of them spoke—they simply sat in each other’s company, savoring every moment, wishing they could stay like this forever.
They couldn’t; they knew that. As they sat, the dozen ships at the harbor were being loaded with food and weapons and supplies, almost ready to set sail for the shores of Ilium. The crew was slowly trickling onto the decks, although no one was present to give them orders. The captain likely was saying goodbye to his own wife. But as soon as he returned, they’d leave. And they’d need their second-in-command.
For now, though, Ctimene just wanted to hold on to her husband for as long as she could.
“Ctimene,” the man mumbled.
“Hm?” came the reply.
“I must go.”
Ctimene hummed again, tilting her head to rest on his shoulder. “Not yet.”
A beat passed. “Kit, I really must—”
“Please, Eurylochus, just a little longer.” Her voice cracked slightly from the tears that she held back, forming a lump in her throat.
Eurylochus sighed. Ctimene glanced down at their intertwined fingers as he traced his thumb in circles over the back of her hand. It tickled a little—to anyone else, the caress would seem surprisingly gentle for hands as strong as Eurylochus’s … but Ctimene could feel the tension in his touch. She looked up to meet his eyes, but his gaze was lowered to his lap, dejected.
“How long will it take, do you think?” she asked quietly, part of her not wanting to know the answer.
He shrugged. “I don’t know. Could be … could be anywhere from a year to …” He faltered. “I don’t know.”
Something stung in the corners of Ctimene’s eyes, then made its way down her throat and into her heart until it felt like it was burning. She glanced away, her grip on Eurylochus’s hand tightening slightly, desperately.
“Where will you stay in the meanwhile?” he asked, trying to change the topic. “Will you stay here, or go back to Same?”
She shrugged. “I’ll go back, I guess.” But it won’t be the same without you. She swallowed, blinking away her tears.
A pause, then Eurylochus started, “Kit—”
The bell rang out from the harbor, echoing along the cliffs—one bell, two, three.
Eurylochus’s fingers quickly untangled themselves from Ctimene’s. “The captain’s ready,” he muttered, then began to rise from his seat.
But Ctimene grabbed his wrist, her tears finally spilling. “Don’t. They can wait a few more minutes, can they not?” “No, Kit, I need to go—”
“Please,” she sobbed. “Don’t leave me.”
Sorrow washed over Eurylochus’s face. He knelt down beside her and ran his calloused fingers over her cheek, rubbing away her tears with his thumb. The action only made her cry harder.
“Kit, look at me.” She already was—taking in the slight furrow of his eyebrows; the way the sun reflected off his otherwise deep brown eyes, making them shine like pools of gold; the small dip on his right cheek that she’d often kiss, the dimple deepening as his smile widened. She took in everything, wishing she could somehow imprint this moment into her mind forever.
He held her hands in his and helped her up, his teary gaze trained intently on hers. He began, “Whatever happens in this war—”
“No.” She knew what he was about to say. “No, Eurylochus, no—”
“Whatever happens,” he continued, shaking his head, “promise me one thing.” He took a steadying breath. “Promise me you’ll stay strong. Promise me you won’t lose yourself in longing. Promise me you’ll always hold on to whatever hope is left, Ctimene, because I will, too.”
She was silent.
“Promise me, Kit.”
She exhaled a sob. “I promise.”
A rueful smile danced across his face as he raised her hands to his lips and kissed them. “Wait for me,” he whispered.
“I promise,” she repeated, not breaking his gaze as he slipped his fingers out of hers and began slowly back-stepping to the harbor.
She watched as he turned to keep walking, his sandals kicking up small clouds of sand.
“Eurylochus, wait.”
He stopped in his tracks, spinning around as Ctimene threw her arms around his neck and pressed her lips to his. She closed her eyes, teardrops escaping their corners and flooding down her cheeks. Eurylochus returned the kiss, his arms wrapping around her waist like an anchor, never wanting to let go. In that moment, it was just the two of them—no war, no ships, no leaving people behind. Just them.
But even the strongest anchors must be drawn eventually.
Ctimene pulled away just enough to meet his eyes. “You will come back, Eurylochus,” she insisted. “You will come back, and then we will have our forever.”
“I—” His golden-hued eyes glinted with tears. “I promise.”
With that, he left.
Ctimene didn’t leave the cove until the bell clanged again and the dozen ships pulled out of the harbor. The men—soldiers—raised their arms as final goodbyes, standing at the rail and waving to the crowd of people at the shore. Be safe, Ctimene wished them, and come back home. We will all be waiting.
Then she caught sight of two figures on the leading vessel—one with a billowing purple cape, still facing toward the crowd of people, waving to someone. And the other—Ctimene bit her lip to keep from crying. He was waving to her, she realized. She waved back, her eyes stinging as she shed a tear. The man nudged the shorter one with the cape next to him, drawing his eyes to where she stood on the beach. She waved to them both, watching their figures shrink smaller and smaller as the ships sailed away.
“I will wait, agapitos,” she whispered. “I promise.”
––––––
One year passed. Then two. Three.
Any word from Ithaca? She’d ask. Are they back yet?
No, they’d reply, not yet.
Another year. Another. And another.
Have they returned?
No. No one has.
Again, the seasons cycled through, marking another year. And another. And one more.
Where are they? Surely the war’s over by now.
It isn’t. Not yet.
How much longer would this war last? How much longer must those soldiers suffer? How much longer must friends, lovers, families stay apart, desperate to see each other again?
How much longer until Eurylochus came home?
All these questions Ctimene pondered as crashing waves of dread slowly eroded away her patience.
But no one ever knew the answer.
The tenth year—the war was over. Achaea had won.
They’re not back yet.
Another year. Two, three, four, five.
Every morning, she’d sit by the shore, her fingers tracing small patterns in the soft sand as she stared out across the wine-dark sea. Maybe it will be today, she hoped. Maybe I will see a black ship on the horizon, finally home from Troy.
She’d occasionally see something, a small fleck somewhere on distant waves. She’d spring up from her seat and squint against the sun, trying to see it better. Sometimes, it would be a ship, and her heart would flutter like a freed dove as she almost dared to hope it was him.
Almost.
Usually, the ship would sail on, not even making a turn for Same. And if it did dock at the shores, it was never his. No, it was always a trading ship, a fishing ship, or some other unknown vessel that would slam its anchor straight onto Ctimene’s heart.
But she still waited. She had made a promise, after all.
The next five years went by all the same. She’d watch, she’d wait, and she’d hope, but that was all she could do.
So, when she finally received some news, her heart was ready to burst out of her chest.
It started as a whisper, winding its way through the ears of people until it eventually reached Ctimene’s.
Odysseus has returned.
They made it … after all this time, they finally made it home!
Immediately, she ordered a ship made ready for her. She was going to Ithaca.
The journey only took a few hours, but it felt like an eternity. The whole time, her mind was consumed by a mixture of excitement, joy, and … fear. Though she tried to suppress it, part of her couldn’t help but wonder—what would Eurylochus be like after all this time? Would she still be able to love him? Would he still love her? Twenty years away from home … had he—had he kept his loyalty? Or had he severed his ties with Ctimene and taken another lover?
His face flashed through her mind’s eye. No. No, he would never—he had promised he’d make it back, and they’d have their forever.
He’d promised.
As soon as her ship docked in the Ithacan harbor, she hurried toward the palace, weaving her way through the streets as quickly as she could. Her heart and mind raced as she imagined everything she’d wanted to say to him for all these years. So many things.
Eurycleia was the first to greet her at the palace. “Ctimene—” she began, then paused. Her cheery grin fell suddenly. “Oh, child …”
“Where is Odysseus?” Ctimene asked, too impatient to notice the nurse’s change in mood.
“In the hall,” Eurycleia replied. “But, Ctimene—”
But she had already taken off.
She found her brother at the foot of his throne, fiddling with his bow. As soon as he looked up, they both froze.
Scars lined his face in places they hadn’t before—the bridge of his nose, his right cheek, his left eyebrow. His eyes had dark circles underneath, as if he hadn’t gotten proper sleep in days. And his shoulders were tense, as if expecting an attack at any moment.
Other than that, he looked like the same Odysseus she remembered.
“Ody,” she breathed, and threw her arms around him, collapsing in tears.
“Kit.” He dropped his bow and returned the embrace, his tears wetting her clothes. “I missed you,” he sobbed, holding her tight.
He was home. He was safe. And he was alive. Ctimene was overjoyed.
But still, something—someone—was missing.
“Brother,” she began, pulling away, “where is Eurylochus?”
Odysseus froze.
“Brother?”
His eyes grew wide and darted in every direction before finally focusing on the ground. He mumbled something under his breath, but Ctimene couldn’t hear it. “What is it, Ody?”
He took a few panicked breaths. “I’m sorry.”
Sorry? Her eyebrows pressed together. Why was he sorry?
“Odysseus—”
It hit her like a spear, piercing her heart, deeper and deeper, until the only thing she felt was blinding pain. Her breathing hitched as dread engulfed her, swallowing her whole. That … that couldn’t have happened—it couldn’t—
“Odysseus …” She struggled to keep her voice level. “Where is Eurylochus?”
No response.
Her tears were no longer of joy—they streaked her face like rivers of sorrow and horror, burning against her skin. But Odysseus was still silent.
“Where is he?” she demanded, shooting up from her seat. “Where is he?”
Odysseus wouldn’t look at her. “I was going to send you a messenger … Kit, the rest of the crew—” his voice cracked. “I had to. I’m so sorry.”
He “had to”?
“‘Had to’ what, Odysseus?” She could barely even breathe now. “What did you do?!”
But he just squeezed his eyes shut, not speaking anything more.
“SAY SOMETHING!”
“I can’t,” he gasped. “I’m sorry.”
No. No. He was lying—he had to be lying—
Finally, he looked up. “I’m sorry, Kit—”
“Don’t call me that.” She backed away, almost stumbling. “Don’t—don’t—”
She stared him right in the eyes. “You’re a murderer.”
“Ctimene, please—”
She turned around and ran.
She burst out of the palace, tearing through the streets and down to the harbor, desperately yet hopelessly searching for her husband. Maybe he was waiting here. Maybe he was boarding a ship for Same. Maybe he’d surprise her, spin her around and kiss her cheek, chuckling and telling her it was just a trick.
But he never did.
She wiped her tears with the back of her hand, but more kept falling. “Eurylochus?!” she called out to the sea. “Agapitos?!”
She was only met with the crash of waves and the sound of blood rushing in her ears.
Her chest heaving, she stumbled along the shoreline, yelling out his name until her voice was hoarse. Every passing second added to the searing pain in her heart, scorching her from the inside. She screamed, she cried, and she ran, until she found herself in an area she recognized in a memory from twenty years ago.
A hidden cove, surrounded by tall cliffs, with an olive tree—now half-dead—pressed against the rock.
Promise me you’ll always hold on to whatever hope is left, Ctimene, because I will, too.
Images flashed through her mind—a sunrise, intertwined fingers, and two shimmering pools of gold. She reached out to the visions, desperate to grab them and hold on before—
Gone. It was all gone.
He was gone. Truly gone.
Her knees buckled, and she collapsed to the sand, letting out a strangled cry that sounded almost inhuman. “Eurylochus,” she screamed, “Eurylochus!” His name echoed along the cliffs, surrounding her, as if it was the only word the world knew how to speak. “You promised, Eurylochus, you promised! You promised you’d come back—why didn't you come back—” Her voice failed her, and she clawed her nails into the sand, wishing she could dig her way to the Underworld and bring him back.
“Come back,” she croaked, barely louder than a whisper. “Come back.”
She vaguely felt an arm wrap around her and heard a thump as someone kneeled in the sand next to her. She leaned her head on the man’s shoulder, too tired and miserable to pull away.
“I’m sorry, Kit,” he whispered, and she felt his tears fall on her cheeks. “I’m so sorry.”
But no amount of apologies could ever repair the gaping hole in her heart where he used to be. Nothing could.
“He’s gone, Ody,” she cried, burying her face in his clothes.
“I know,” he choked. “I’m sorry.”
And there they sat, together yet completely alone—a captain who had sacrificed everything for love, and a princess who had lost everything she loved.
