telemachus

It had been a few days since Telemachus's father returned, and he was ECSTATIC. He could barely contain himself around him, bombarding him with millions of questions, all of which he answered, being as excited as his son. However, there was one question Telemachus could NOT get an answer to, and that question was, how did his father meet his mother? Every time he asked, his father would blush and become uncomfortable, and before Telemachus realized it, the subject had changed and they were talking about something completely different.

Telemachus leaned against the railing of his balcony in silence, contemplating the view of Ithaca before praying softly to the one he trusted most. Before he realized it, his best friend was beside him; he hadn't spoken to the goddess of wisdom in ages, and the sight of her made him smile. He began to speak. "Hey, I've been wondering this question for a VERY long time and I can't figure it out, it's about my dad." He had realized that she had guided his father a long time ago, and thought that she, of all people, would know the answer. "He always avoids the question, but since you know him so well, I thought you could tell me, so, how exactly did my mom and dad...meet?" He gave her a shy look, hoping the question wouldn't be a waste of the goddess of wisdom's time.