EPIC: The musical (one-shots)

Athena meets Telemachus

Odysseus stood outside in the centre patio of the palace, holding a baby safely in his arms.
Telemachus.

"Odysseus"

Finally.

"Over here"

"Yes, I see you"

Athena was leaning against a tree in the patio, observing him similarly to how she'd observed him the first time the met. When he'd killed the boar.

It was so long ago it felt like nothing more than a distant dream.
Telemachus yawned lazily in his arms.

"My friend," the king began, an excited smile lighting up his face. "I have some news."

He lifted Telemachus in his arms for the goddess to see, expecting a congratulations, or, at the very least, a smile.

"Odysseus..." Athena began slowly, looking concerned. "You ate Penelope?"

What.
To say that Odysseus was speechless, shocked or simply very confused, would be quite the understatement.

"Athena. What." Odysseus managed to ask.

But the goddess remained focused on little Telemachus, who was still very much unaware of the strange discussion going on around him.

"Well, at least your head hasn't split open... But he's completely defenseless like this. Was he born too early?"

"Athena, why would my head be split open?" Odysseus asked, looking about as concerned as she was. "And no, he wasn't born to early. In fact, he was born late." He added, remembering the week when Penelope was due, and how he ran up and down the palace, looking for ways to ease her suffering.

"Was Penelope underfed? Is that why he's so small?" She insisted.

"No! And why would you assume I ate my beloved wife?" Odysseus snapped, still looking mildly shocked.
Of course he hasn't eaten Penelope, or, at least, not the way she thought.

"That's how children are born. How do you not know that?"

"... No, it's not."

"Of course it is."

"It really isn't."

"Odysseus, I am the goddess of wisdom. This is how children are born. It's how I was born."

Odysseus sighed and chuckled, sounding absolutely exhausted.

"That's definitely not how I was born. Or how any other mortal was born."

"You mean to tell me you weren't born out of your father's head after he ate your mother? Strange."

"That sounds like a traumatic birth experience." The king huffed and smiled. "No, I did not eat my wife and no, I was not born out of my father's head."

"So, Penelope is alive and well?"

"Yes, as well as she can be after birth."

"And your head hasn't been split open?"

"Not yet, no."

Athena nodded and looked down at Telemachus, and Telemachus looked up at her curiously.

"So, how is it he was born, if not from your head?" Athena murmured letting Telemachus yank on her finger.

"Do you truly not know how us mortals are conceived, my friend?" Odysseus smirked and held Telemachus closer to the goddess for her to hold him.

"There's no need to sound so amused, Odysseus." She replied, holding the baby in her arms. "I swore off motherhood for a reason."

"You're the goddess of wisdom"

"Be silent."

"Wisdom."

The goddess scoffed, knowing perfectly well that the King of Ithaca would never let her live this down.
There were a few seconds of silence as the child gaped at Athena and tried to grab her finger again.

"So, how are mortals born?" Athena finally resigned herself to ask.

"Now you ask, goddess of wisdom."

"I don't know why I assumed you were born from someone's head, you clearly don't have one yourself."

"Such harsh words from someone I considered a friend." He grinned. "I'll let Penelope tell you, she can probably describe it better than I ever will."

"How so?"

"It's women who give birth, not men"

"So, he's not that small because Penelope was underfed or because I made you train too much while you were pregnant?"

"No"

"He's that size naturally?"

"Yes"

"... He grows, right?"

"Yes, of course he grows. He'll grow into a magnificent man, just like his father. Won't you, Telemachus?" Odysseus reached to pick up his child again and held him, smiling brightly at her. "He will."

"I think he'll be more magnificent like his mother, if it's the women who give birth to mortals." Athena commented.

"He'll be as good looking and intelligent as his father, then."

"And, hopefully, less arrogant."

"I am not arrogant. I'm confident in my abilities."

"Odysseus, if you were any more 'confident in your abilities', I'd think you Narcissus."

Odysseus scoffed, trying (and failing) to look annoyed. "I'm not in love with myself, I'm in love with Penelope." He started walking towards the doors of the palace, a cheeky grin plastered on his face. "Now, follow me, my wise friend, Penelope still has to tell you about the wonders of mortal childbirth."