#lamb au

[twost3ps]

I am a chronic bust drawer anyways some lamb adam

You’re only seeing this now cuz he looked rlly cute

[altv3rs3]

“ I want that new money (oh)

Crisp money (oh)

Straight-from-the-mint money (oh, oh)

Fresh money (oh)

Young money (oh)

Push against the tide!! “

[skulkiee]

So i may have concocted a thing in my brain. And written it as i do :D

I promise that if i decide to write more it will have a happy ending✨

Anyways.

Odysseus looks at Polites' turned back. His hand falls to his sword.

They stand on Ithacan soil, finally, after twenty long years, just the three of them. It's poetic really, Apollo would like it, they started out as just the three of them- Odysseus, Eurylochus, Polites- twenty years ago, and now, two decades later, it will end with the three of them.

Or two of them, if Apollo's prophecy is to be believed.

They won the Trojan war, fought gods and monsters, and sailed through the underworld. Survived seven years on that accursed island that calls itself paradise. And now Odysseus can see the town, about an hours walk from the ichor-stained beach they stand upon, and beyond that, his palace, his family.

His Penelope.

There is nothing stopping him walking right up to his palace and seeing his wife and son for the first time in ten years.

Nothing but that damned prophecy that has been haunting him for the past two decades. That damned prophecy that Apollo whispered to Athena's champion, as soon as he could no longer see Penelope on the horizon.

Odysseus remembers Athena's words when he told her of her brother's words. Mortals may believe that they can twist their fates, twist and bend and change the prophecies that Apollo and his kin whisper to you. And yes, maybe the ones from seers and lesser beings can be twisted, however this one, you can delay it, but you cannot avoid it, Odysseus. Apollo has spoken it to you himself.

Eurylochus and Polites are laughing. Odysseus stands behind them, drenched in the ichor of mighty Posidon, and draws his sword.

The prophecy was clear, a child of Sparta must be killed by Odysseus' hand for him to ever see Penelope again.

It is a term that the Trojans used, 'child of-', to refer to a child born of the royal family of that place.

Odysseus has run over his options again and again and again, he cannot harm Helen, or her daughter Hermione, not after everything that has already happened, not with their connections to Aphrodite. Odysseus does not need to start another war or get another god mad at him.

He cannot kill Clytemnestra, she is already dead, killed by her own son, Orestes, her payment for killing Agamenmon once he returned from the war in retribution for his sacrifice of their daughter Iphigenia. And Odysseus would not want to get tangled up in that cursed family anyways. They've all died violent deaths.

He is not going to kill Penelope, no one could persuade him to do that, ever. Odysseus could never harm her. And that leaves Polites.

Penelope would be mad at him- Odysseus promised her he would bring Polites back safely, but he hopes her learning of her little brother's death wouldn't hurt too badly, especially since he has already lost five hundred and ninety eight men to the games of fate.

Twenty years away from home makes a man desperate.

~~•~~

Polites has a nervous smile on his face when he comes and sits down beside Odysseus, letting the waves lap at his feet and running his hands through the sand. Odysseus watches him for a while, Polites has that jumpy, fidgety-ness about him that he only gets when he wants to say something big, where he won't look at Odysseus, his dark eyes fixed on the horizon, but also won't sit still.

"I thought it was your turn keeping watch for Calypso?" Odysseus asks after a while of that nervous silence.

"Eurylochus is by the treeline." Polites replies, having gone back to his fidgeting after a moment of stillness when Odysseus spoke Her name.

"You've been avoiding me for days." Odysseus mutters instead, turning to look at the horizon, "Both of you."

Polites hums, "Eury says you want me dead."

Odysseus had half expected him to bring up the prophecy, he had caved to the pressure of it a few days ago, and told Eurylochus everything- what he intended to do and what he had been trying to do. He had not expected Polites to bring it up that way.

It had been going on for years- a turned back on the battlefield, a loose spearhead, a faulty shield, a trip in the cyclops cave, a frayed rope during the storm, bad memory on Circe's island, a nudge in the underworld, too little beeswax when they met the sirens, etcetera- his friendship with Polites had become strained, Odysseus did not doubt that this would be where it snapped. He can feel Eurylochus' eyes fixed on him.

"I don't." Odysseus says quietly, looking at Polites, who has finally turned to look at him too, "I don't want you dead, 'Tes."

"All those little 'accidents' make so much sense now though, but why?" Polites sounds small. He sounds like he was hoping for an answer that sounded something like reassurance, like 'Eury was just messing with you, 'Tes.' Clearly Odysseus' voice hasn't given him anything he was hoping for.

Odysseus just sighs, "I don't want you dead, i didn't want to kill the sirens, i didn't want to kill Astanyax, or go to war, i didn't want to leave Penny or Telemachus."

"You still did all those things." Polites does not have a weapon, Odysseus does. It hurts him, to see that even now, even after everything, Polites still trusts him enough to sit on the beach with him, unarmed. Or maybe Polites just trusts his own skills and Eurylochus, still sat up by the trees, watching them like a hawk.

"I did them." Odysseus says, "I did not want to, but i needed to." He looks away from those brilliant, dark eyes now, away from that face that looks so much like his dear Penelope's, twisted in betrayal.

Odysseus' hand falls to his side, next to his dagger. Polites stops his fidgeting, going still and silent.

"You won't hurt Eury or Ctimene." Polites says eventually. It is a statement, an order. He stands up, brushing the sand off of his dress that Calypso insisted he wore, but pauses before he walks away, his voice going cold when he next speaks, "Do not tell me why you need to kill me, i do not want to know what you have decided my life is worth, not after what you decided everyone else's was worth."

"Okay." Odysseus says, and his voice is small.

"Oh and Odysseus?" Polites speaks loud enough for Eurylochus to hear as well, "I won't let you slaughter me like a lamb, and if only one of us comes out of this alive then i will fight to make sure it is me."

"Penelope would hate you for killing her husband." Odysseus snaps, "So would-"

"And she would not hate you for killing herbrother?"

~~•~~

Odysseus raises his sword, and lunges. He is already painted in ichor, but red and gold are the colours of Ithaca, and do go well together.

~~•~~

Polites moves as soon as he feels Odysseus' blade at his back. He screams at the jagged bolt of pain, but he survived the cyclops, and Odysseus clearly expected him to not be that fast, to not survive the first attack.

Polites reaches for a weapon, something, anything, and comes up blank, feeling the back of his chiton swiftly turning damp with blood. He doesn't panic though, he has long learnt not to panic at a lack of a weapon or the smell of blood.

He moves the same moment Odysseus does, lunging forward and grabbing for the other man's sword. The scuffle is quick, and violent, and Polites used to be able to win these little fights, when they weren't trying to kill each other, but that was a long time ago now, before the cyclops, and Odysseus has a weapon, Polites is unarmed.

He cries out when he's shoved to the sand, gasping out pleas between throwing punches at the friend who's trying to take his life.

Odysseus has that look about his eyes, as his sword comes down again and again, that look of desperation, of a terrible love for the woman he is returning to- for he will return to Penelope, that was never an if- that same look that he had when he stabbed Posidon with his own trident. And Polites is terrafied.

He thinks that Odysseus may have decided his life is worth the same as every single other person that got killed on this god-damned journey.

He thinks he can hear Eurylochus shouting, somewhere out of his sight. Polites claws at Odysseus- this is terrifyingly similar to that day in that cave- and then scrabbles at the sword stuck in his chest- the shouting, the pain, the absolute terror running through his veins-

Polites can feel the life draining out of him, staining the sand around them crimson. He glares up at Odysseus and his half triumphant expression.

"You will never be able to replace the guilt inside your heart." Polites rasps, "I will haunt you."

Odysseus leans back and says something, but it is too muddled for him to make it out. Eurylochus has stopped shouting, and Polites looks at him, his dearest friend, instead of Odysseus, who is still leaning over him, his sword's hilt in his hands, the blade through Polites' chest.

And then Odysseus takes his face in his hands, and Polites had always found it funny how gentle Odysseus could be for the ruthless warlord that he is, but it is less funny now, now that Odysseus makes him look at him, instead of Eurylochus, muttering words that sound like apologies.

Polites feels cold. He turns his eyes back to Eurylochus.

~~•~~

Eurylochus- Eurylochus has known Polites almost his entire life. His father would send him to stay with Eurylochus' family in Same whenever he didn't want Polites around, which really was quite often.

In all that time, he had never seen Polites so still. Even when he slept, he would twitch and mutter- as if he were allergic to staying still for more than a few seconds.

It's why it's so terrifying now, so jarring. Because now Polites is still and limp and dead. So very dead, with the sand around him that horrible rusty shade of red that Eurylochus still hates, even after the last two decades, with those empty, blank eyes still staring sightlessly up at Eurylochus.

It is what hurts the most, he thinks, those cold, dead eyes. Because Polites was always so full of life, and those brilliant, odd, red eyes of his that reflected that life for all the world to see were the thing that made Eurylochus fall in love with him in the first place and now-

And now Eurylochus doesn't know what to do. Because those eyes are empty and staring at him, and Polites is so very dead, and Eurylochus doesn't know what to do.

He doesn't know what to do because the person who tore his closest friend's life away from him is Odysseus.

He thinks maybe Odysseus is calling his name, shouting at him maybe, it's a horrible mimicry of that day in the cyclops' cave, when Odysseus froze up. Eurylochus feels numb. Because they made it back to Ithaca, and Odysseus claims that there is a prophecy, but Odysseus claims a whole lot of things, and Eurylochus hasn't fully trusted his words since that fateful day in the cave- Polites was always the one who talked him around to listen to Odysseus, and now Polites is dead- he's dead-

Odysseus killed Polites.

For no apparent reason. Another stupid thing that he claimed the gods told him to do. Like Astanyax. And Iphigenia.

Eurylochus wants to hate Odysseus. He can't though, because Odysseus is still his brother. He just feels a deep, deep numbness.

Odysseus killed Polites.

They start to walk up to the palace, clearly Odysseus is too eager to see his wife to consider moving Polites' body.

He wants to hate Odysseus.

Eurylochus doesn't want to look at Polites. His dearest friend is too still. His dead eyes stare at the sky and the seabirds high above them.

He helps Odysseus kill the suitors with a numb detachment, as he has faced everything since the light faded from Polites' eyes.

Their dead eyes stare at him too. It's similar to Troy. Similar to that cave and Circe's island and the sirens and Scylla's lair.

More blood on his hands, more nameless faces, more cold, dead eyes staring into his soul.

"I will haunt you."

Odysseus killed Polites. Eurylochus watched it happen.

Yes i do think im funny

[kas-who]

I draw Lamb from my au, it's male

[altv3rs3]

Forgot to post my Lambsona here raaaah

[skulkiee]

So! You know that thing i wrote where Odysseus killed Polites because of a prophecy well i promised a happy ending and then realised i was more invested than i initially thought✨

So you get this part which i guess is part two and atleast one other part i have yet to write :D

I REALLY enjoyed writing the underworld guys especially Persephone so they might come back i dont know

"Ah well! This is not good. Apollo really needs to stop getting mortals killed for his own amusement!"

Polites doesn't stir from where he's sat watching the waves until he hears the god's voice. The waves are gold and red- ironic, really, those are the colours of Ithaca, after all.

"Anyhow! Our dear Ody carried through Apollo's lies and i have to do my job, so you really must stop moping over there!" Hermes is awfully cheerful, Polites just rolls his eyes.

His brain catches on the word 'lies', but not much else. He jumps when he feels a hand on his shoulder- he couldn't feel the waves lapping at his feet.

Hermes sighs, "You haven't had a funeral and don't have any coins, but it won't be all that bad, the rest of your crew didn't either." He pulls Polites to his feet.

Hermes looks different now, than he did days ago when he came to Calypso's island, as he did at Circe's. His colours are more muted, blacks and greys and murky greens and bone-yellows, rather than the brilliant array of colours he usually has. His eyes seem more distant too, and his smile smaller, his voice almost- less mortal.

Polites then realises what he is saying and shakes his head, "No."

"No?" Hermes gives him a Look, "What ever do you mean, no?"

"I'm not going." Polites mutters, "I've gotta- i-"

Hermes shakes his head at him, the wings on his ankles fluttering, "No, darling, you don't gotta do anything anymore."

Polites looks away from the god then, and at his body. At where his body still lies in the sand, staring sightlessly up at the sky. Seabirds had started landing a while ago, drawn down by the promise of food. He wraps his arms around himself, his ghostly form, "I've gotta wait." Polites tells Hermes.

Hermes pats his shoulder, "No you don't, darling."

"What if they come back?" Polites doesn't know what else to do. He can't- he can't leave. He can't leave Eurylochus and Odysseus, can he?

Hermes is.. surprisingly kind, for a god. He's patient with Polites, in a way that suggests he is used to doing this, used to panicking or upset mortals.

"Well there's a friend of yours waiting for you, in the Underworld. Eleanor? I think he was called? No! Elepnor! Elpenor? He's been hanging out with Tiresias, since he can't stay with the others all the time because-" Hermes talks away at Polites endlessly, "Oh, and my dear Perimedes!"

Polites lets the god chatter as he leads him away from the beach. He only half listens to Hermes' words, in that way that he hears every word but does not take in the endless stream of information and gossip, he is scared of where his mind might go if he lets it wander.

~~•~~

Persephone is bored out of her mind. She wants something interesting to happen again, like another huge mortal war for her to watch the other gods squabble over.

She lounges sideways in her throne, tossing a dagger between her hands, claws clacking against the blade every now and then. Hermes was supposed to be coming down to the palace today, he better not have gotten carried away talking to that prophet of his, or the witch-girl, Circe.

"Hades." She says flatly, catching the dagger's hilt in one hand, thorned rose vines coiling over her wrist. Persephone leans even further back, looking at her husband upside-down, "Centuries, and you still try to sneak up on me."

Hades laughs at that, that familiar fondness reflecting in his eyes when he watches her, "I will succeed one day, Seph."

Though Persephone does not share the love that Hades has for her, he is one of her dearest friends, and after the centuries they have spent together, she has long learnt to read him, "You have news." She sits up on her throne, grinning.

Hades laughs even more at that, "You really need to find more things to do around here when you can't cause chaos with Hermes."

"I can cause chaos by myself, but-"

"It's more fun with a friend?" Hades interrupts, "You will not believe this but me and Hestia used to cause plenty of cha-"

"Hestia?" Persephone shrieks, "Olympus' Hestia?"

"Yup." Hades says, sitting on the throne beside her's, which is actually Persephone's throne, but she likes his one more because it's bigger, "Now do you want the gossip? It's the best gossip we've had since," he pauses, doing that face that Persephone thinks is rather cute that he does when he is thinking, "Since like forever!"

"Stop trying to make it sound great and tell me!" Persephone complains.

"Posidon got beat up by that mortal of his."

Persephone doubles over cackling, "Athena has been telling him for years that his mortal would get his revenge eventually! Nobody took her seriously of course, but oh, by the Styx!"

"Yes! And dear uncle 'Sidon is currently in Apollo's infirmary!" Hermes chirps as he strides through the throne room like he owns the place. But also Hermes does that everywhere, and he is more welcome here than most gods are. What's odd is that he is dragging a disheveled mortal shade after him.

"Hermes!" Hades grins, throwing his arms wide, "We've just gotten news of Posidon, Iris brought it."

"Iris brought news and didn't come and say hi?" Persephone asks, offended.

"Well apparently father wants everyone to know about Posidon's defeat to my great grandson, so we are both very busy!" Hermes chirps, leaping up and settling himself on the arm of the throne Persephone's sat upon.

"If you're so busy why are you hanging out with me?" The mortal seems to have forgotten he is in the presence of gods.

"Ah, Polites!" Hermes grins, "I wanted you to meet Seph and Hades here, they'll like to talk to you, and it seems-" he tips his head to look at the rulers of the underworld, "That you two have just heard about Posidon's defeat to Ody, and Polites here," the messenger god waves one hand at said mortal, "Got a front row seat!"

"Oooooh! Do tell!" Persephone squeals. Demeter would say she shouldn't be so interested in violence, Amphitrite would say she should not be so unladylike. Hera likely have had the exact same reaction, with Athena and Artemis leaning over her shoulders for all the gruesome details.

The mortal blinks at her for a long while. He looks like he died a violent death.

"My brothers will not care, and nobody outside my realm knows what happens down here." Hades says, "Tell us your story, mortal."

The mortal- whose name Persephone and Hades have both already forgotten- shifts from foot to foot a few times, and then starts to speak.

~~•~~

Polites takes a step to the side, half hiding behind Persephone, for as terrafying as the queen is, she is not nearly a quarter as scary as the figure forming out of the dark waters of the river Styx.

The woman that forms out of the water is all swirling dark waves and fog, huge dark wings that drip back into the horrifying river around her that swirls with lost souls.

She has long, trailing hair, scales and feathers, a sharp grin filled with jagged teeth and glowing eyes that pin him in place. Jagged dark claws curl around the rocks along the bank, and even Persephone steps backwards when the woman leans forwards.

"Persephone. What do you want?" The woman's voice is sharp, yet similar to the bubbling of a river, yet sounds like the anguish of the many souls in the Styx's depth. She also talks to the queen with blatant disrespect.

"How did you know i wanted something?" Persephone asks, her smile wavering as the woman leans over them, dripping black water around them.

"You never come unless you want something." The woman growls, "It is usually my sister who gets the attention, despite the way she sleeps and forgets everything, despite her being such a terrible bore, despite swearing upon my name constantly."

"I do visit!" Persephone says indignantly.

"Eris is the only one who ever comes and talks to me." The woman leans back, crossing her arms, white glowing eyes glaring down at Persephone.

"Okay. Okay, if you do this one thing for me then i will visit you more often, yes?" Persephone sighs, "And as for your sister, i do not understand why anyone would visit Lethe."

Polites just stares back at the woman. Because Lethe is a river. And Styx is also a river. And they are stood on the banks of the Styx, and a terrifying water-woman is glaring at him. And he is dead.

"Fine." The woman spits.

Persephone pushes Polites towards her, which is the opposite direction to where he wants to go, "Meet Polites, Styx."

He thinks he may have gotten into a bit more trouble than he can get out of.

But also Polites is dead and doesn't have anything left to loose.

~~•~~

Telemachus stares at the fleet of boats on the horizon. They look old, and sail low in the water, but fly the colours of Ithaca- those bold reds and golds, easily recognisable, despite the tears and faded colours in the sails.

People are starting to gather around the docks, murmuring amongst themselves- everyone had accepted that the fleet was gone when Odysseus and Eurylochus finally returned home.

"You there!" Telemachus yells at a girl about his age, one that he knows is friends with aunt Ctimene, "Take Tachys and ride up to the palace, tell my parents that a fleet flying Ithacan colours is approaching." He dismounts his horse- Tachys- and leads her over to the girl who nods, and is off without a question, riding as fast as Tachys can run up the narrow streets of the Ithacan town.

Telemachus turns back to the boats, "Who amongst you knows how to sail?" He yells at the crowd, "I want only the best, we will take one of the small sailing boats and meet these strangers."

He is not surprised when the crew consists mostly of women, Ctimene had pulled together quite a good band of ladies who knew how to work and fight and such when her husband and brother and friends hadn't returned home. But still there are a few men amongst them, the few who were too young to go to war and didn't dare try for Penelope's hand in marriage.

They pull together quickly and efficiently- the townsfolk of Ithaca know how to get something done fast, they know how to work together- its one thing they can thank the war and the suitors for, and soon they are sailing towards the lead boat in the fleet.

Telemachus watches as there seems to be a scramble on the nearest ship, and then a raggedy white flag is being flown. They mean peace.

"State your names and where you come from!" Telemachus yells when they are within hearing distance, and Ctimene's ladies all pick up their hastily gathered spears and bows, in case the fleet means trouble.

"We mean no harm," a man is standing at the bow of the first boat, "We only wish to return home, after twenty five years away from Ithaca."

Telemachus holds up a hand to get his crew to put their weapons down, "The army is dead. Our king returned home and confirmed that fact five years ago."

"We were dead, yes." The man nods, and he seems familiar to Telemachus, yet he cannot place that tired looking face and haunted eyes, "But i choose not to question Persephone and Hades and Styx when they give us a second chance."

"You can speak to queen Penelope, she shall decide what to do with you where i do not have the authority." Telemachus says finally, gods, Athena would be helpful right now, "Please follow us back to port, and don't try anything."

~~•~~

Eurylochus sits astride his horse, alongside Odysseus, Penelope, Ctimene and the girl who had fetched them, and they watch as the twelve ships dock at Telemachus' orders.

The boats are definitely the ones he knows from the war. The exact same, just older, more broken, but still sailing, apparently with full crews.

Penelope rides forwards then, the older and fiercer people of Ithaca holding makeshift weapons where they stand around the edge of the harbour, up by the houses.

"Please stay on your boats for now." Penelope shouts, "Whoever your leader is, please come down and meet us."

One person hops down from one of the boats, unarmed, at Penelope's orders. He walks towards where the rulers of Ithaca, Telemachus, Ctimene and Eurylochus now stand, head held high.

Eurylochus stares. Because-

Because Polites is walking towards him. He hears Ctimene gasp, Penelope lets out a little choked noise. Odysseus is so very, very still.

"Long time no see." Polites offers quietly, "I brought everyone back with me by the way." He makes a small gesture back at the boats.

The people of Ithaca are starting to talk, drawing nearer, people are shouting and waving from the boats. Penelope laughs slightly, "Come on down!" She shouts up at them, "Welcome home, come and see the people you have missed!"

Eurylochus is busy staring at Polites. He watched him die, killed by Odysseus, but now- now Polites stands before him. He looks awfully tired, and there's a faint terror in his eyes. His dress is stained with blood and dirt, for he still wears the same clothes he did five years ago- in fact, all the men look like they died only yesterday. But they're all back. Ragged and tired and hurt, but alive.

Polites' eyes are darker than they were before, no longer that startling red colour, but almost black. There are flowers in his hair, flowers with thorned stems and jagged leaves.

Eurylochus wonders what in the name of Hades happened.

Guess what Polites did✨✨

[a-tarnished-soul]

Because of this post I've been thinking about Soul as a lamb (or baby ram) and HAD to sketch it out because oooooh, the symbolism but also the cuteness

Close ups under the cut

[skulkiee]

So you guys know the thing i wrote like a month or so ago- where Odysseus kills Polites over a prophecy ect ect, and i promised a happy ending,

Well im looking at it now, and ive decided im gonna rewrite it in a slightly different order and stuff all ill put chapters on Ao3 as i write them but im not gonna put it all on here until its done probably

Anyways yah :D