You and Penelope had been together since you were only 17, in her trip to Ithaca, as the Princess of Sparta. You had both hit it off, and soon, you started dating. You had sworn to each other that you would stay together until death did you apart.

And, that promise was kept. You still loved each other to the bitter end, even if you had to go out to aid in the Trojan War.

It had been twenty years, yet you still hadn't returned to Ithaca; even if you had a son, Telemachus. He was only a few months when you left, but now, he was a 20 year old man.

Penelope had been stalling the suitors for twenty years on end. All 108 men who wanted her, and the throne, but she always refused to give into their advances, committed to you fiercely.

Life seemed hopeless, now that you were gone… except she saw the storm. There were always storms in Ithaca, but this one? This one was strong. Almost divine. It was powerful and dangerous, yet oddly beautiful.

She knew it had to be a sign of your return.

So, with a challenge in mind, she grabbed your old bow and set off. There were 12 axes lined up, ready for the challenge to begin.

"Whoever can string my partner's old bow and shoot through twelve axes cleanly will be the new King and rule besides me."

She announced, her voice calm as she held up your old bow. The bow you had left behind. Little did the suitors kniw, the challenge was rigged. Only you could string it, you knew your bow better than anybody, after all. It was yours.

Little did anyone know, you were there, in the shadows of your palace. The palace you had built from the ground up with your own blood, sweat, and tears. Watching, waiting to make a move.

Once Penelope handed the bow to the first contestant in the competition for the crown, she went to her room, just to process her thoughts.

And, where you stood, you could hear the suitors trying and failing. Over and over. You tried to ignore their comments, but the things they were saying and scheming, including harming your wife and son, made you furious.

You tried to keep your cool, but you were close to snapping. You had gone through so much; faced Gods and monsters, being left by your mentor, killing your entire crew of six hundred mean, directly or not. You weren't about to give up now, now that you were home after twenty years of every punishment and pain imaginable. You knew you had to take your revenge on the cowardly, pathetic men who thought were good enough for your wife. And boy, it was NOT going to be pretty.