drabblewriter

Flat on his back beneath Antinous's sword, Telemachus can't catch his breath enough to answer. Not only had the fall stolen it from him, but then the older man had slapped his wooden training weapon across his neck, quite unlike the tap or mere gesture that would usually signal the end of a sparring match.

Even worse is the way he'd said it. Calm. Not even breathing quickly. Hardly victorious. More teasing. Mocking. As if he'd known all along how this would end, as if it hadn't been worth his time.

And it hadn't. Telemachus may not be strong, but he isn't stupid. He knows the loudest of his mother's suitors proposed the match to teach him a lesson, to have yet another thing to gloat about. Telemachus had known unless he got very lucky he wouldn't have a chance. But to have admitted defeat without trying would have been worse.

What would his father think? King Odysseus of Ithaca who had befriended gods, gone to war, and even now is - out there somewhere. Sometimes it's hard to believe Telemachus shares his blood.

He grits his teeth. He can't just let Antinous have this. He can't lay down and admit defeat. For his father and his mother and himself-

"No." Antinous sweeps Telemachus's sword aside before he can even half-raise it again, and none too gently. "Stay down, prince," he says, voice still too-light. "Know when you're beaten."

Telemachus's arm aches now, too, a match for his throat. "I yield," he grows, all bitterness. "Let me up."

Antinous laughs and gives him a final little shove before stepping back. Of course he doesn't offer a polite hand up. Telemachus doesn't know if he could take it if he did.

Antinous and the rest who had watched are already chatting and chuckling like the whole humiliating thing didn't even matter. They head back into the palace to feast and drink, leaving Telemachus alone, hurting, fuming.

The last thing he needs is his mother appearing, concern written all over her face as she reaches for him. "Telemachus, darling-"

"Don't." He lurches to his feet, hands shaking. "I'm fine." He has to be. He has to show her. He has to show everyone.

He runs before she can say another word.