The head scritches stopped for a moment then resumed. “Well. That is definitely a nightmare, I’ll give you that. But, no worries, you are safe and sound here with me.” The god sounded especially smug at the last part. His fingers began to gently comb out her sleep braid into what would be a nightmare of knots in the morning.
She didn’t say anything, relaxing and dozing as he made a mess of her hair. She didn’t let go of him either.
The sun began letting in watery predawn light through the huge open windows in the room. She fell back asleep as the last of the dark faded.
AFTER that, Ariadne realized holding Dionysus tightly made him relax. The whole time she held him after a nightmare, he relaxed his grip into something that could be defined as cuddly instead of the previous almost uncomfortable grip. She made the effort to glue herself to his side whenever she woke up at night.
She wasn’t sure he was even aware that he did it, so she never mentioned it. Gods and more to the point, men could be delicate about people seeing their weak points.
As she learned about his history through blatant eavesdropping, more became harshly clear about his idiosyncrasies and their sources.
Child gods were not much less powerful than fully grown gods. But their control was that of children. Dionysus was not just the god of wine and parties.
He was also a god of madness. One who had grown up in the mortal world, where they were so much more fragile than the immortals of Olympus. Apparently, the stories that Hera took exception to her husband’s bastard and destroyed his life were lies. Lies told to spare a child the horror of knowing what had happened had been his fault.
What happened specifically was never mentioned, apparently harsh enough even the immortal gods shied away from talking about. But the fact it happened multiple times came through loud and clear. That struck Ariadne as stupid and unintentionally cruel. If Dionysus didn’t know it was him, how could he learn to prevent it happening again and again? He couldn’t.
The harvest goddess Demeter apparently had the same thoughts as Ariadne, because she had taught him control. Given her experience with her mad father, she was probably one of the best choices for the job.
ARIADNE leaned over as she handed Dionysus a fresh bunch of figs to snack on and said in a low tone. “Is it because I’m a satyr?”
He followed her glance to nearby where a couple nymphs were giggling at a rude story about the King of the Gods that was really quite inappropriately detailed. It was likely accurate, given his reputation.
Dionysus grinned at her, face open and full of mischief. “You haven’t figured it out then? They don’t think you speak the language.”
Ariadne blinked at him. She spoke the Titan language more than Olympian but they were close enough she was picking it up quickly. But then, both were languages used exclusively by the gods and chosen immortals of Olympus. Her mother, being the daughter of a Titan had passed the knowledge down to her children, occasionally against their will. A mark of prestige Ariadne had thought, but was coming to wonder if her mother had just missed her homeland.
She leaned in to kiss his cheek and ask, “What about you then? Why do people speak so openly around you, who does speak their language?”
He pulled her onto his lap for a full kiss, lazy and affectionate. He pulled back to answer the question after several long distracting minutes. “A mix. I’m always drunk, full of bad ideas that are too fun to say no to and, well. This is what most of them see when they talk to me.” Dionysus gives her his dopiest expression.
While adorable, to the unwitting it gave the impression he was not the most intelligent person. He probably had more blackmail on the entirety of Olympus than personal messenger to bullshit Hermes did.
Ariadne kissed him again, before she licked his lower lip and pulled back. “Do you think I could pull that off?”
Dionysus considered. “No, you have such sharp eyes it wouldn’t work. But too foreign to understand...” He waggled his eyebrows at her.
Ariadne frowned at him, brows knitting together. “Is that an immortal thing?” She asked hesitantly, looking down at him through her eyelashes. Her unsure voice was at odds with the confidence her hand was moving across his chest.
Dionysus grinned, sharp and pleased. “Exactly.”
Chapter 5
ARIADNE HAD A LOT OF fun on Olympus as Ampelos the satyr. She had a lot of fun back in the mortal realm, too, reveling in wearing her own skin under the heat of the sun. She took to going topless, with only her loose hair covering her breasts. It drew less glances than she feared, the festivals always seeming to have people in various states of undress.
Her lover frequently eschewed clothes entirely and the ones he wore slipped and slid, showing more than they concealed. The only exception was when he dressed as a woman, like the first day they had met.
It was wild, freeing and when not exhilarating, oddly relaxing. The dancing and drinking, laughing and singing was fun. But so were the long slow treks from place to place, winding flowers in everyone’s hair, and chatting idly with people as they pass through.
Ariadne looked, but didn’t find anyone who appealed to her to take as a lover besides the one she already had. It would be smart to plan for the future when she wouldn’t be favored by Dionysus. To take a lover and avoid the pain of being alone.
But Ariadne’s brain dribbled right out of her ears without fail when she made eye contact with Dionysus. Giving up before she even tried to find a mortal lover, she settled into watching Dionysus seduce those who caught his eye. She found she rather liked watching, with the way his eyes flicked up, found her watching and gave her a secret smile.
He always took her back with him to Olympus when he left the mortal realm, even if they hadn’t been lovers in weeks. She’d ask why but it was obvious at that point he was frequently lonely in the realm of the gods. His sleeping grip tightened to the point of painful when they were there. She suspected being there either brought up bad memories or there were people there that had hurt him. Ariadne wasn’t sure what she could do besides be there for him.
They were sitting outside under the low hanging canopy of a fig tree that shielded them from the hot summer sun. Ariadne finally decided to ask him,“Why don’t you have sex with people here?”
Dionysus took her as a lover in the mortal world infrequently, but on Olympus they were lovers only rarely. He touched very few people at all in Olympus.
Dionysus cracked open an eye from where he was using her lap as a pillow. “What brings this on?”
“You don’t seem very happy here. Not like your usual self. Repressed.” She frowned down at him and used her finger to fix his smudged eyeliner. He allowed it, closing his eyes under her ministrations.
“There’s not much here I find joy in.” He didn’t open his eyes.
“Can you make a party?” She suggested, hesitant and sure it was a bad idea to suggest but not sure why.
“They would love that.” Her lover said bitterly. “They always love my parties.”
Ariadne caught the strange inflection. “You don’t think they love you.”
Dionysus opened both eyes and looked at her, silent. She sighed and stroked his cheek and pinched the tip of his nose. “I can’t fix that. Give me a problem I can fix.” She mock scowled at him.
His smile is mocking and strange. “You don’t want to love me enough for all of them?”
“I grew up with a family that didn’t care for me either. Even you can’t make that pain any less. I doubt that I have that ability for you either.” Ariadne admitted, staring at his nose to avoid the intensity of his gaze. With his powers rippling underneath his skin like lightning, his glowing green eyes were eerie. “I try.” She admitted and closed her eyes, feeling foolish.
He was her lover, but he was also a god. She wasn’t anyone special to him and he held powers that would likely kill her if she even saw them unveiled, much like how his mother had died. The legend of Semele, the woman who bore a god and loo
ked at the true form of another was a quiet one. But within the following of Dionysus it was a frequently told tale.
She swallowed and tried something dangerous. “Your birth mother... have you ever went to the Underworld and spoken to her?”
When she opened her eyes, he was looking at her like she slapped him with a live fish. She pulled her hands back from him and looked away. “I don’t mean to upset you.”
Dionysus pulled himself upright and gripped her hands, “No, no, no. Don’t do that. Don’t be afraid of me.” Ariadne looked at him. He demanded worship and respect as a god but also wanted to be treated as man. She wasn’t sure he realized those things were mutually exclusive of each other. “Please.” His voice cracked.
Ariadne rested her forehead against his. Dionysus surged up and rubbed his cheek against hers like the large cats he sometimes took the form of. “I won’t hurt you.” He promised. “Not you. Never you.”
“Oh.” Ariadne managed, stunned by his fervor.
“Do you,” He began when he was satisfied she wasn’t flinching. “Do you think it would help? To talk to her. My mother, Semele.”
Ariadne realized he was asking her this. He was seriously asking her if talking to his dead mother would make his struggle with loneliness and being accepted the other gods easier. She mentally flailed.
“I think,” She licked her lips. “That talking to her would give you closure. Possibly blackmail, depending if she remembers what your father’s true form looked like.” She added thoughtfully, hoping that bit didn’t get her in trouble down the line. His father was the King of the Gods. But Zeus had also shown his very pregnant lover his true form as a god and killed her instantly, so screw it.
Technically, only three gods went to the Underworld and came back. Hecate was a goddess with powers over the lingering dead. Hermes did as well, but more as a god who also occasionally delivered lost souls. Persephone was the Queen of the Underworld. But before that, she had been associated with her mother Demeter, goddess of the harvest and food crops.
“Your powers are strong with plants, so going to the Underworld in the winter wouldn’t be completely unheard of.” She added extremely hesitantly.
Dionysus expression gleamed with a manic excitement. “Blackmail huh?” He kissed her cheek and bit her illusory horse ear playfully, cackling at her yelp. “What would I do without you?” He told her with a cheerful grin, melancholy mood gone like a cloud over the sun.
Ariadne wasn’t sure what she would do without him either. It was probably something she should be more worried about.
ARIADNE wasn’t entirely shocked when Dionysus went to the Underworld. It surprised her that he took her advice, but not too much. He clearly had a lot of unresolved feelings that had been with him a long while. Since childhood, she was assuming.
What did shock her into confusion was when he dropped her off with the goddess Demeter while he went on his quest. Dionysus didn’t stay long enough to explain, hurrying off to catch a ride with a patiently waiting Persephone. The air was already loosing heat and they had only left minutes ago.
Ariadne turned from staring at the stubbornly empty horizon to the harvest goddess standing next to her. “I have no idea why I am here.” She admitted.
Demeter snorted. “You sure about that?” She continued watching where the chariot had faded into the distance as the darkness of night swallowed it. “You don’t strike me as the stupid type.”
Ariadne tried to figure that out and then gave it up as a lost cause. “I know that I’m relatively favored as Dionysus’s lover, but I thought he was going to leave me with the traveling bands or even at one of his temples. I have no idea why he left me here.” She repeated with a bit more explanation, hoping to get one in turn.
“Relatively favored? Girl, you convinced a god of the vibrancy of life to go the realm of the dead willingly. Not even my Persephone did that before her marriage.” Demeter told her flatly.
Ariadne was shaking her head before Demeter was finished. “Dionysus wanted to meet his mother.” She corrected but quietly because she was arguing with a goddess. Ariadne tried not to focus too much about the fact Demeter had seen no problem with killing all of humanity at one point. “I think he had forgotten that he could, since he was accepted as a god.”
Demeter finally looked away from the horizon and gave her a measuring look. “I suppose there is that.”
But she didn’t tell Ariadne why she was there.
Chapter 6
DIONYSUS CAME BACK at the end of the winter, noticeably paler and calmer. He came back with a woman who was breathtakingly beautiful and looks like his sister. Ariadne ached suddenly for the loss of her twin and the possibility their fates could have been anything but what they were.
“This is Ariadne, mother.” Dionysus said, fairly glowing under the more solemn expression of his mother. His conspicuously not dead mother. Beside him, Persephone gave Demeter and Ariadne both a hopeful look, glancing back at Semele pointedly.
Ariadne had come around to Demeter’s don’t ask don’t tell policy over the winter. She was seeing the benefits to it. She was also desperate to get away from canning preserves.
Semele raised an elegant eyebrow. “I wasn’t aware you picked favorites among your followers.”
Dionysus looked surprised. “I don’t. Ariadne’s not one of my followers.” This gained Ariadne a sharp look from two goddesses and a former corpse. “She’s a lot of fun.” He finished lightheartedly, diffusing some of the tension.
“Fun. I’ll tell you fun. I’ve spent so long canning and pickling things the next time I see your dick I’m liable to pickle it by habit.” Ariadne gritted out through a pleasant smile.
“She’s actually pretty good at it.” Demeter praised
Persephone asked with a laugh, “Have you two had to pickle many genitals this winter?”
Ariadne gave the queen of the underworld a thousand yard stare. “Just mine. Your mother may be very attractive but I suspect she only has sex to make babies. I had cobwebs in my underwear.” She finished plaintively, making Dionysus laugh and sweep her into a possessive, groping hug.
Ariadne hadn’t been kidding. There had been cobwebs in her underwear as spiders had laid a horrific sized egg sack in a pair that had been squished in the corner of the drawer.
Demeter shuddered. “I admit, that was unnerving, even for me.” She said under her breath to her daughter, who looked delighted and intrigued.
Dionysus pulled back from the hug to tug a strand of her hair free from her braid and study it. “Are you going silver?” He asked seriously before mock gasping and covering his mouth with his free hand. “How long was I gone?”
Ariadne’s stomach sunk to her toes. She was going silver. Granted, it was a side effect of her mother being an immortal with moon related powers, the early silver hair. Not that Ariadne was considered young, marriageable or anything else a woman was supposed to be, not any longer. She failed that stage of her life and thus, every one after it. Nailed it.
Semele rolled her eyes and reached over to swat her son’s hand. “Don’t make her self conscious. Very few women are immortal, but many are beautiful nonetheless.” She smiled at Ariadne, who could suddenly see the resemblance between the two of them. Their genuine smiles were identical.
Unfortunately, Ariadne’s bisexual brain decided to kick in and remind her that a beautiful woman was smiling at her. Semele’s visual similarity to Dionysus dressed as a woman just made it worse. Ariadne immediately avoided eye contact with the other woman.
“Sorry, sorry.” He apologized, dropping Ariadne’s silver hair to plant a kiss on her forehead before whipping out a flower crown from one of his ridiculously oversized dress pockets. He settled it on her head, tongue poking out from the corner of his mouth.
Dionysus had made her a crown of asphodel. From the Underworld. Ariadne decided to be flattered instead of nervous at the implications she would be dying soon.
”Thank you.”
He turned to his mother and smirked. “See, I told you she would like it.”
Semele gave Ariadne a confused look. “Why do you thank him for that? It’s flowers from the world of the dead.”
Dionysus didn’t give other people flower crowns at all and it made her feel special. Ariadne shrugged and defended as best she could. “Flowers are pretty. No place is untouched by life, just as no place is untouched by death. Pretending it doesn’t just sucks the joy out of what time you do have.” She’d learned that one with the labyrinth and the days there that never seemed to end.
Semele just shook her head. “He has you wrapped around his finger.”
Ariadne grinned, feeling a surge of wickedness. “I wouldn’t say it’s his finger that I wrap around.”
THEY stopped by the traveling camp, spreading the word of what Dionysus had done. Ariadne still couldn’t quite believe it, despite seeing the formerly dead woman daily for several weeks. No one had ever come back from the Underworld. No one.
Well, except Sisyphus, but that had been trickery and he had paid the price for that. Still was, likely enough in the depths of Tartarus. Semele, on the other hand would soon be made an immortal. Dionysus would never lack for a trusted face on Olympus again.
Semele was so very different from her son. She was similar in many ways, but the wild untamed edge that always lurked under the surface of him was absent in her. Dionysus played stupid exceptionally well, and she was almost entirely inscrutable. Even when Dionysus revealed his plan to have Semele made immortal, his mother merely smiled mysteriously.
Ariadne still couldn’t get a read on what the woman thought of her. Semele’s eyes were frequently on her, but she never confronted Ariadne over anything. Except once.
No Mortals Allowed Page 3