Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Do you ever dream?” Cassandra asks one day, and there is a long pause before he answers.

~o~

“I dream of my mother,” Telemachus says simply. They’re at a street festival today, eating halloumi skewers as they walk between stalls. “She’s on her loom.”

“She’s always on her loom,” Ascanius points out. It’s a fair point. Penelope ran her own weaving business, and the classes she taught always attracted a lot of students, though some were just men who thought she was single.

“Is that all you dream about?” asks Astyanax curiously, picking at his skewer. He always takes forever to eat, like he’s trying to make the food last as long as possible. Ascanius is the opposite, scarfing down food like someone would take it away.

Telemachus scoffs, “Of course not! Sometimes I dream I’m going on a quest, or that I’m fighting off burglars. Last week I dreamt I was somewhere full of sand.”

“Last week you were somewhere full of sand,” Astyanax reminds him, bringing back Telemachus’ fresh memories of his Uncle Nestor’s beach house where he spent all day exploring the scrub-covered headland with Peisistratus.

Ascanius nods vehemently, “Yeah, next you’ll be telling us you dream of putting on your shoes. Of course you dream of Aunt Penny on her loom. You see it everyday. There’s nothing special about that.”

“Ah, but in my dreams, she’s weaving backwards,” Telemachus says, and smiles like it’s a conspiracy.

~o~

“I dream of whatever I choose to,” Elektra announces haughtily, arms crossed as they wait for the cross-country event to begin. It’s clear she wants to make a more dramatic gesture, but she has to keep her head still while Epicaste finishes braiding her hair.

Telemachus looks up from where he’s tying his laces, “What do you mean choose to?”

“I go to sleep and decide what I want to dream about,” Elektra scowls through her explanation. She’s always scowling.

“I think that’s called lucid dreaming,” Astyanax muses, sat on the ground with a leg stretched out in front him, his warm-up abandoned halfway in favour of the conversation. “Where you realise that you’re dreaming, so then you can control it.” Epicaste nods in agreement with him but doesn’t comment, hairband gripped between her teeth. She’s focusing so hard on getting all the wispy fly-away strands of Elektra's wavy hair to behave that she’s almost cross-eyed.

Elektra gives a minute shrug, “Whatever. Whether I know I’m dreaming or not, I choose what I dream. I have for as long as I can remember.”

~o~

“I dream I’m being chased,” Orestes admits from where he’s squished next to Pylades, staring intently at the campfire. “I don’t like dreaming much.”

~o~

“I dream of…my wedding,” Iphigenia says, quiet, as if worried she would be overheard. They’re sat on the edge of the pool, feet dangling in almost artificially blue water, watching the rest of their group splash around down in the shallower end.

Ascanius shakes his head gently, “No, not ‘dream’ as in what you wish for; ‘dream’ as in what you hallucinate late at night.”

“Hallucinate?” Iphigenia teases with a tiny smile. It’s a hot day, and there are bright white smears of sunscreen up her neck where it wasn’t rubbed in fully.

Ascanius rolls his eyes good-naturedly. “You know what I mean.”

“I do dream of my wedding though.”

“Oh.” Ascanius is silent for a long minute, staring down at the chlorinated ripples. “Who are you marrying?”

“I’m not marrying anyone. I get to the altar, and I’m all alone.”

“That’s weird.”

Iphigenia shrugs. “It’s just a dream. It could be worse. At least I always wake up.”

~o~

“I dream of eating pizza on a beach,” says Ascanius, though he typically goes by his middle name of Jules when they’re in public, says it’s easier. They’re not in public right now though. They’re somewhere in the national park, on horseback like they were born to it, which they might as well have been. A couple dozen metres ahead of them rides Hector and Diomedes, scoping out the route’s potential for their jointly owned equestrian school.

“That’s oddly specific,” Astyanax muses. The path they’re on is currently wide enough that they can ride side by side, but only just. He’s glad for his cousin’s company, unplanned as it was. Ascanius was supposed to be at Aeneas’ this weekend, but he’d been dropped off early that morning by Dido, who had just rolled her eyes when Andromache asked where Aeneas had run off to this time.

“There are other dreams,” Ascanius acknowledges, “Where I’m on a boat. It’s always overcrowded and smells of smoke. Plus there’s the fighting dreams. They’re a bit monotonous though. I can never tell who’s fighting who, or who’s meant to be winning.”

Astyanax ducks under a low-hanging branch. “Those sound stressful.”

“Yeah,” Ascanius still looks pensive, “I prefer the pizza dreams.”

~o~

“I dream of what everyone dreams of,” says Hermione, like it’s a stupid question. “I dream of what I want.”

“And what’s that?” Telemachus asks, wondering if she’s ever going to roll the dice so they can get on with their board game. He’s never liked Lakonia family nights much.

Hermione’s clasps her hands in front of her and looks up at the ceiling through her lashes, as if she’s some sort of fairy-tale princess. “A big house,” she sighs, “A handsome husband. Lots of beautiful children.”

“Ew,” says Orestes.

“Oh come on,” Elektra scowls, “That’s just your wish fulfilment fantasy. That’s not what your subconscious conjures up while you’re asleep.”

“It is too!” Hermione squawks.

Elektra scoffs. “Please, you probably lie awake at night worrying you’ll end up alone.”

“Speaking from experience, are you?” Hermione retorts. Their faces are screwed up, looking ready to launch into a shouting match. Orestes rolls his eyes.

“Don’t be cruel,” Telemachus mutters, earning him a glare from both girls.

“Just get on with the game Hermione,” Orestes sighs. He is awarded with a tongue stuck in his direction, but she picks up the dice.

~o~

“I dream! Of course I dream, everyone dreams!” Neoptolemus snaps, both hostile and vulnerable in equal measure. Telemachus rolls his eyes.

“I never said you didn’t…I just asked what it was you dream of.” Ascanius said patiently. They’re waiting for the bus, slumped on an uncomfortable bench in the sliver of shade provided by the trees.

Neoptolemus takes too long in answering. “I don’t know.”

“You don’t remember?”

“Something like that,” Neoptolemus says evasively, refusing to meet either of their eyes. Conversations with Neoptolemus always feel like pulling teeth, but Ascanius has always been patient.

“What? Never?” Telemachus asked incredulously.

Neoptolemus scowled, “It’s not like it’s important. Who needs dreams? Anyway, just because I don’t remember dreams doesn’t mean I don’t have them.”

Telemachus and Ascanius share a look. Something in the way Neoptolemus speaks feels like lying.

~o~

“I dream of…” Astyanax trails off, embarrassed. “Sometimes, it's a nightmare.”

Cassandra looks at him over the top of the trays of food she’s carrying. Her eyes are always gentle when she looks at him. “Nightmares are still dreams, nephew, just not very pleasant ones. You can tell me about them, if you want. Sometimes speaking helps. It’s up to you.”

Astyanax stays quiet while they drop off their current load on one of the picnic tables Clytemnestra had claimed for them earlier. The park is large and beautiful, situated on the headland but protected from the salt wind by a row of wiry trees. It’s filled with bustling activity as the annual community festival is set up. ‘Festival’ is a glorified term for what always ends up being a very large barbecue with extended family and friends, but it’s a highlight of the year nonetheless.

He is still quiet as the two of them make their way back to the car to bring over the last of the drinks. Cassandra doesn’t press him to keep talking. Astyanax has always been grateful for his aunt’s uncanny ability to know when to speak and when to stay silent. It’s reassuring, the surety of her calmness. It’s comforting, and it’s what prompts him to speak again.

“I dream I’m playing hide and seek with Mum and Dad,” Astyanax says eventually, while they thread their way through the boulders at the edge of the carpark, before they’re back among the crowd.

Cassandra doesn’t blink at the unprompted statement, “Are you hiding or seeking?”

“Both,” Astyanax answers, “At first it’s fine, but then it turns into a nightmare. I’m looking for Dad, but he’s gone away somewhere. Then Mum tells me to hide. I want to go hide with Dad, but I still don’t know where he is, and it’s really important that I find somewhere to hide. And I do, but it’s so lonely and dark I always wake up.” He looks toward Cassandra, who hums in response. He feels lighter, having said it aloud. “Why do I dream that stuff?”

“Dreams follow their own rules, nephew. Understanding them is...hard.” Cassandra's face tightens for a moment, “Do you have any other dreams?”

Astyanax nods. “Yeah. There’s one where I’m floating in a river. The waves are huge and powerful but the water around me is always gentle.”

Cassandra smiles at that, “And that is a good dream?”

“The best,” Astyanax grins, making Cassandra laugh quietly as she turns to look across the park. “What about you? What do you dream of?”

Cassandra is still gazing out over where his friends and cousins and schoolmates are playing some sort of footy match in the open, sandy field. The soft smile stays on her face. “I dreamt of all of you.”

Chapter Text

THE HOMERIC COUNTERPARTS

ASCANIUS-IULUS – Trojan – Son of Aeneas and Creusa – Fled the Fall of Troy with his father and grandfather – Journeyed with Trojan refugees through Carthage (ruled by his step-mother Dido) to Italy – Ancestor of the founders of Rome – Claimed as ancestor of the Julii

ASTYANAX – Trojan – Son of Andromache and Hector – originally named for the river bounding Troy – killed as an infant during the Fall of Troy

ELEKTRA – Greek – Daughter of Clytemnestra and Agamemnon – With Orestes, killed their mother to avenge the murder of their father

HERMIONE – Greek – Daughter of Helen and Menelaus – unhappily wed to Neoptolemus, possibly eloped with Orestes

IPHIGENIA – Greek – Daughter of Clytemnestra and Agamemnon – Ritually sacrificed by Agamemnon to allow the Greeks to sail to Troy, after tricking her into thinking it was of her wedding

NEOPTOLEMUS – Greek – Son of Achilles and Deidamia – fought in the last years of the Trojan War, possibly killed Astyanax – unhappily wed to Hermione, possibly killed by Orestes

ORESTES – Greek – Son of Clytemnestra and Agamemnon – With Elektra, killed their mother to avenge the murder of their father – Chased by the Furies for committing matricide

TELEMACHUS – Greek – Son of Odysseus and Penelope – Journeyed to the mainland to seek news of his father’s return from the Trojan War

BASIC SOURCE LIST

The Iliad and The Odyssey by Homer (my favourite translations are by Emily Wilson)

The Aeneid by Virgil

The Oresteia trilogy by Aeschylus

Andromache by Euripides

Orestes by Euripides (the Anne Carson translation is the one with the ‘It’s rotten work // Not to me, not if it’s you’ dialogue between Orestes and Pylades)

Trojan Women by Euripides

Iphigenia in Aulis by Euripides

Electra by Euripides