How-Odysseus-met-Penelope headcanon
Odysseus is a headstrong fellow as we know. His success with the boar and the pride of his grandfather has established his name in the local area, and, frankly, he’s enjoying that fame and finding out who he really is and he neglects getting married. His parents despair of him, because they need their heir to have an heir to prevent them getting usurped by some nobler, richer king from the mainland should a power vacuum emerge, but their boy is getting older and much more interested in gallivanting and hunting with his slave pal Eumaeus, telling great stories in drinking sessions with the other young nobles of the island, and getting into scrapes than he is settling down and providing the grandchildren. Women long-term just don’t interest him. What can a much younger, uneducated, unadventurous partner possibly have to interest him, aside from moments of physical gratification?
When the hand of Helen is up for grabs, Odysseus reluctantly goes along with all the other Greek kings. He knows he doesn’t have a chance really – he’s the prince of a backwater island and there are kings of literal cities here. But he goes because it’s a chance to meet people, and he does: Lycomedes of Crete, the Amythaonides Thoas, Podarkes and Protesilaos, Menestheus and Elephenor[1], Ajax, and the Atreides, Menelaus and Agamemnon, who has also come without intention to marry – he’s already married to Clytaemnestra, sister of Helen - but to support his little brother and, presumably, throw his weight around.
But he does meet someone. Leaning on a pillar near the back of the Megaron of Tyndareus, watching the other suitors argue in front of the king about who has brought the best gifts, he realises a girl is standing next to him, copying his bored recline and crossed arms. He is surprised. Moreso when she nudges him with her shoulder – how forward – motions towards the other suitors and shakes her head in silent laughter. I gather you’re not really here for her, she says. I bet you’re here for no one, she says, though it looks like, for a loner, you’ve made some friends? Odysseus looks to where she’s pointing and sees auburn-haired Menelaus smiling over and giving a little wave.
He's alright, Odysseus replies, definitely a bit lovestruck but a good sort. I hope he wins. Otherwise he’ll be insufferable.
Hmm, says the girl. Odysseus is instantly intrigued.
What do you think Helen wants? Odysseus asks. Oh, says the girl, after the narrow escapes she’s had already, all she wants is protection, and someone nice to look at. I warned her that might get dull, but she’s adamant. Mostly, I think she wants to be somewhere where she’s not being gawped at all the time, but I’m worried she’s not thinking about the long term.
What about you though? He asks. He speaks without thinking, because, for the first time, it doesn’t occur to him to do so.
She shrugs. They’re all the same, she says, looking for a prize. I’d rather have a conversation.
Days later, Odysseus approaches Tyndareus with his plan to protect Helen and her choice of husband from future reprisals from those rebuffed: an oath, to be sworn on the dissected corpse of one of Sparta’s famous horses, joining the suitors together in blood. He’s quite proud of the idea: it’s simple, but looks dramatic and piety will keep it in place. He might have had some inside help with choosing the animal victim that is the symbolic centre of the oath to be made, and now Odysseus has a price of his own for this help: Tyndareus must speak with his brother, Icarius, on behalf of this prince of a backwater island, so that Odysseus might just also return home with a wife.
[1] From the papyrus BKT V.1 28-30 (P. 9739 R) ttps://berlpap.smb.museum/die-freier-der-schoenen-helena/?lang=en#:~:text=The%20surviving%20fragment%20deals%20with,and%20Protesilaos%2C%20Menestheus%20and%20Elephenor.