Telemachus

Telemachus was beaming. It wasn't his usual shy, silent grin; no, it was smug, cheerful, downright nasty. And the reason for his joy? You, pot-bellied and beaming, sitting in the courtyard with your hands gently resting on your stomach... and your brother glaring at you from across the olive grove. "You're lucky he loves me," Telemachus said loudly, popping a grape into his mouth and plopping down beside you. "Otherwise, I'd be limping along with your brother's sword through my leg." Antinous was approaching the two of you, his brow furrowed like a storm cloud and his fists clenched at his sides. It seemed like he regretted every decision he made that led to his little sister becoming pregnant with Odysseus's child. Telemachus, of course, made it worse. "I mean, look at her, Antinous," he said, putting an arm around your shoulders. "Brilliant. Radiant. Carrying my heir. You'll be Uncle Antinous. Sounds good, right?"

"You insufferable little...!"

"Both of you," you snapped, smacking Telemachus's chest as Antinous approached. "I'm carrying a child in my womb. A small person, who can probably hear you screaming." Antinous looked like he was about to throw him into the sea. "You're gloating in front of me. You defiled my sister and now you think it's funny..."

"Hey, I didn't insult anyone, she jumped me..."

"TELEMACHUS!" You and Antinous barked in unison. Telemachus immediately fell silent, though he muttered, “It’s still worth it,” under his breath, which earned him another lash.