I saw something that said that if Odysseus had to choose between himself VS. Penelope and Telemachus he'd always choose himself. How he'd be miserable and he would try to weasel his way out of it but if it really was no other option he'd still do it and...
Odysseus is an incredibly selfish man, that's not wrong. And he definitely has his cruel streak. But his whole thing is his unconditional devotion and loyalty to his family while basically being a rat bastard to everyone else. He literally puts himself in danger for them multiple times, even just in their NAME multiple times.
This inspired me, so here you go:
Odysseus heard footsteps outside of his tent as he took off his helmet. He rolled his eyes. He knew exactly who it was.
Could he not get a moment’s peace? He hadn’t had a chance to check with Eurylochus about the status of any Cephallenian casualties. He’d been running back and forth to the tune of Agamemnon’s fleeting whims and meetings, and to top it all off, Achilles was still refusing to fight and may very well be more determined to sit by while the Trojans slay honorable men.
Phoenix was such a weak-willed man. He caved as soon as Achilles opened his mouth. He wasn’t even acknowledged at first. It was Odysseus who was targeted. He insisted he stay in Achilles’ camp for the night and considered desertion, all in tears.
Then Greater Ajax, the oaf, just had to say his piece before Odysseus could quell Achilles’ growing anger. That only hardened the prideful man further. Why Nestor insisted that frail, bleeding heart and dumb ox of a man accompany such a delicate mission, Odysseus couldn’t hope to understand. The old coot must have hit his head and gone mad during the battle.
And now, the very man who moved the fleeting whims of Agamemnon since the Achean’s retreat was stomping up to Odysseus’s tent.
Odysseus heard a small argument outside as he slid his armor off his shoulders. The entrance of the tent flew open, and in stormed Diomedes, Polites close behind. Diomedes looked livid, his jaw clenched and hands balled into fists. Odysseus hung up the armor to be cleaned later.
“I’m sorry, captain!” Polites exclaimed, “I tried to-”
“Leave us, Polites,” Odysseus said.
“But-”
“Leave us. I’m sure Machaon and Podalirius need you.”
Polites looked between the other men and sighed softly. He relented silently, going off to find the medics.
Diomedes glared down at Odysseus. He wasn’t surprised. Lately, the Argive seemed angry at him for one reason or another. This song and dance was getting old, in Odysseus’s opinion. Even so, friction between more commanders would only lead to more needless deaths. There was enough of that already. So, Odysseus put on a smile.
“What can I do for you, Diomedes?” he asked casually.
“Are you fucking insane?!”
“Well, that’s no way for a respectable king to speak. What’s troubling you so?”
“You know damn well what’s ‘troubling’ me!” Diomedes shouted. He grabbed the collar of Odysseus’s tunic and pulled Odysseus, forcing the shorter man up on his toes.
Odysseus grabbed Diomedes’ hands, attempting to break the grip, but it was useless. Diomedes’ anger gave him too much strength.
“What the fuck were you thinking!?” Diomedes demanded, “Have you gone mad?! Or are you just a spineless worm?”
“Diomedes. What are you talking about?”
“Don’t play dumb with me! I needed you! Why did you run off like a coward?”
So that was it. Odysseus sighed and shook his head.
“If that’s what this is about, you have a shorter temper than you’d like everyone to think,” he retorted, “I had my reasons.”
“And what exactly were those reasons, oh master tactician?!” Diomedes bit out.
Odysseus rolled his eyes. “Was it not obvious to you? A man so experienced in battle, you surpass Nestor in knowledge of warfare. I thought better of you.”
“Don’t fuck with me and dance around your answer like you always do! You’re lucky Nestor is still here to speak of, no thanks to you! Just spit it out!”
The ember of rage in Odysseus’s chest flared to life, and he forcefully pushed Diomedes’ hands off of his tunic.
“Well, excuse me for valuing lives over glory!” he shouted, pointing an accusing finger at Diomedes.
“That’s rich coming from you! You’re telling me, running to the ships and leaving Nestor to die was saving lives?!”
“I was covering the flanks of the retreat! Nestor was fine in your hands! He would have lived with or without my help with you there!”
“AND WHAT ABOUT THAT RETREAT?” Diomedes roared, “Just two days ago, you stopped the armies from sailing off and abandoning the war! And yet, you do NOTHING when the Trojans put pressure on our forces! When your men need you to rally them and fight! You let fear consume you like a boy!”
“They were all on the retreat! They saw the signs, or were you blinded by bloodlust!? There was nothing I could do but watch their flank and cover them as they got over the trench!”
“That’s the weakest excuse I’ve heard from a general in years! Can you not control your men?!”
“Don’t you DARE throw such an accusation at me!” Odysseus yelled, “My men trust me with their lives! I haven’t lost a single one of them despite the battles! Despite the plague brought down upon us by Agamemnon’s pride! Can you say the same for yourself?! Running headfirst into battle on your own! Leaving the two other Argive kings to lead your troops along with their own when you have more experience in battle than the both of them combined?! You shroud your men in chaos and leave them to die for your own glory!”
Whack!
Odysseus stumbled but quickly regained his footing. Pain blossomed on his cheek. He looked at Diomedes, glairing in indignation.
“Don’t you insinuate that I don’t care for my men!” Diomedes shouted, pointing at Odysseus, knuckles slowly bruising from the force of punching the other man.
“Then why haven’t I seen it?” Odysseus asked, “All I see is a man ignoring the men under his command to gain more glory for himself.”
“Like you’re more deserving of glory!”
“I don’t need it!”
“Then why do you pursue it?! You continue to fight and make plans! Why continue?!”
“Because that glory is not for me!”
Diomedes froze, and his face slowly fell. He looked at Odysseus in confusion. “What do you mean? Who else could it be for?”
Odysseus clenched his fists. Of course, Diomedes wouldn’t understand. He ruled a powerful kingdom. He easily mustered thousands of well-trained men from great planes with several cities, while Odysseus had to make do with as many able-bodied men as he could scrounge up from four islands dotted with tiny villages. Of course, Diomedes couldn’t understand how much Odysseus had to lose, the risk he took for love that eventually bit him in the face because of one man no one but the gods could have foreseen.
“It’s for my family,” Odysseus said, “Something I wouldn’t expect a man such as yourself to understand.”
dude. I could hear them.
I heard the yelling match like I was in the tent. I could hear the crack of Diomedes' knuckles against Odysseus's cheek. I could see the rage in his eyes, the fury barely held in check by hands curled into white-knuckled fists. I could feel the stinging pain of the blow reverberating into the anger already building in Odysseus's chest, could feel the deep-set desire to keep his composure being overridden by indignation that Diomedes would DARE disrespect his leadership, his dedication--
this was REAL.