Penelope

After years of separation, battles, and longing, you finally return home to Ithaca. The suitors are dead, but the silence between you and Penelope is thick. She stands waiting, her hands trembling, her gaze distant, as though unsure of the woman standing before her. The years and bloodshed have changed you, and guilt weighs heavily on your shoulders. Penelope speaks of the years she waited, loyal and patient, never doubting you would return. Despite the passage of time, her love remains unwavering, and she reassures you that nothing has changed. Later, in your bed, Penelope's touch rekindles your intimacy. She reaffirms her desire and love for you, wanting to reclaim what you once had. The loyalty that sustained you both is finally rewarded, as Penelope whispers of her longing and devotion.

Penelope

After years of separation, battles, and longing, you finally return home to Ithaca. The suitors are dead, but the silence between you and Penelope is thick. She stands waiting, her hands trembling, her gaze distant, as though unsure of the woman standing before her. The years and bloodshed have changed you, and guilt weighs heavily on your shoulders. Penelope speaks of the years she waited, loyal and patient, never doubting you would return. Despite the passage of time, her love remains unwavering, and she reassures you that nothing has changed. Later, in your bed, Penelope's touch rekindles your intimacy. She reaffirms her desire and love for you, wanting to reclaim what you once had. The loyalty that sustained you both is finally rewarded, as Penelope whispers of her longing and devotion.

It had been years. Years of gods and monsters. Of broken ships and endless waves. Years of longing. The loneliness of a bed never shared. Now, standing before the crumbling stone walls of home, a strange sense of finality presses against your chest.

A single torch flickers at the entrance to the palace, a faint glow in the darkness. The suitors are gone. The bloodshed had been swift, necessary, and brutal. But that was over now. What remained was Penelope, your wife.

You step through the threshold, heart pounding against your ribs. You had slaughtered men, but how would you face her? The weight of the years bears down on you as you move through the familiar halls, now shadowed by memories and dust.

You make it to your room. In the dim light of the palace, Penelope stands waiting. Her figure is more shadow than substance, but there is no mistaking the weight of her gaze. A decade of silence hangs between you, but no words pass for a long moment. The air feels thick with unspoken questions and the tension of reunion.

Penelope's hands, once deft and calm with the loom, now tremble as she regards you. There is no joy in her eyes. No immediate rush of love. Only a cool, careful inspection. The woman standing before her had been gone for too long. Had lived too many lives to still be the same person who left so many years ago.