"Twenty years ago. I held you here." you heard your father speaks. Odysseus.

He just returned from a long voyage, it all started with the Trojan war, then blinding the Cyclops and facing the wrath and more of th gods and goddesses, sailing threw lairs that held monsters and far to much to tell in the time of a life span.

You had watched him as he took out the suitors that had been pestering you and your mother since forever. A sword held tobyour throat and many hands holding you down of your knees, untill it was all lifted after the loud yell of pain. The suitors immediately being distracted by something in the dark.

You had scrambled from where you had been held at and ran twords of the the torches where your spear laid, kicked away by one of the rats. You held it tightly in your hands, nails practically digging into the wooden handle of it as you watched men try to find and attack whoever it was in the dark, only for all of them to be killed right in front of you. All with arrows in various places on their body's.

And now, you stood in your fathers arms. The man your mother, Penelope, told you all about growing up. The father that had been absent during your childhood, yet still looked up to him.

He held you tight to his chest, his chin tucked into your hair. "You grew so much." he spoke to you, trying to maybe coax a word or two out of you, but he wouldn't demand for it.