No Mortals Allowed

by Honey Beezleigh

  “I’m sorry.” The low words caught her by surprise, but his face is completely buried in her lap now. She had nothing to gauge his sincerity but the muffled tone and the tight grip on her hands still holding his.

  “Me too. I should have said something earlier.” Ariadne admitted bitterly, thumping her head against the bark of the tree. An olive fell and smacked her on the head, making her yelp.

  “Quit that.” Dionysus rolled out of her lap to catch the back of her head with his hands, mirroring their first meeting. “You’ll hurt yourself, Ariadne.”

  Their eyes met, brown and cat green.The moment hung between them. He leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to her lips, chaste. He rested his forehead against hers, smudging his makeup onto her. He closed his eyes and swore quietly.

  “I was avoiding you because- I didn’t know, still don’t know how to really- to talk about-” Dionysus cut himself off with a sigh, opening his eyes. This close she can see the starburst of darker green that surrounded his pupil and the pale yellow ring surrounding his iris.

  “Is this something you don’t have words for, don’t know how to explain or are not sure what you’re trying to say?” Ariadne prodded gently, pushing her arms to surround his neck and lacing her hands together loosely.

  Dionysus gave her a crooked smile and pressed a kiss to her nose. “You have the kindest heart.” He deflected, instead of answering.

  “No, I’m not.” She whispered to him, confessing her darkness in a cracking voice. “I would have left that labyrinth and never went back if I could have. I would have let my father slaughter countless children and thought only of how I was relieved to have escaped. I tried.”

  Ariadne thought of her twin, the way blood dripped from his severed head in a hot pool at her feet. The begging and screaming of sacrifices not old enough to leave home alone, led to slaughter. The ruins of wax wings washing up the shore.

  He said nothing at first, pulling back and studying her. “It’s not wrong for you to have fled from being a part of that evil. It was not your fault, nor your duty to stop what your father did.” He finally spoke and pulled his hands up from cradling the back of her head to cup her cheeks.

  Dionysus licked his lips slowly and asked carefully, ”Do you feel like you have to escape me?”

  “I felt like I had to leave before you broke my heart by forgetting me entirely.” She covered his hands with hers and didn’t meet his eyes, staring instead at his glittering earrings. “I’m lonely on Olympus. Even with you. It’s a place of gods and immortals, not ‘base animal companions’.” She quoted.

  “Who told you that?” He demanded sharply, leaning back on his heels, ferocious expression from earlier returning.

  “Who didn’t?” Ariadne countered. “In a thousand different ways, a thousand different times from a thousand different people.” She snorted. “Even Silenus as kind as he was, pointed out I didn’t belong. Far be it for immortal gods have to witness death up close and personal.” She muttered, forgetting her audience, so comfortable in his presence that she began talking freely again.

  He reached out and tugged a chunk of her hair free from her sweaty braid. It was entirely silver, almost glowing in the bright sunlight. Dionysus sighed. “I try to forget you are mortal. I don’t like to think about it, and what it means.”

  “Neither do I.” Ariadne told him dryly. “But it’s rather hard to forget when you’re surrounded by people who don’t age and laugh frequently at people who do.”

  “You have been hanging around the wrong people up there, that much is clear.” Dionysus grimaced. “Yet another thing I should have helped with.” He put both hands on his face and pulled down, lower eyelids stretching downwards. “How am I going to fix this?” He complained dramatically, letting go of his face and flopping over to lay on her again.

  Ariadne took a moment to reflect back on her awe and shyness when she had first met him and how far she had come from there.

  She didn’t get a chance to respond to his rhetorical question. Hermes, the god of messengers appeared in a flicker of light, rocking back on his winged sandals.

  “Good, good, you’re not busy. Nice to see no one got smote. Got kind of worried when I felt that spike of energy earlier.” Hermes laughed and it had a distinct undertone of nervousness that piqued Ariadne’s curiosity. What was there for the other gods to fear when the god of wine and parties lost his temper? Sobriety? He certainly wasn’t going to lose control over his powers. Not after how hard he had worked to get control.

  “Dad sent me to check on you.” He added, glancing at them and then away like a hummingbird not sure if it should land or not.

  “I’m fine.” Dionysus’s voice from Ariadne’s shoulder was muffled and petulant.

  “Yeah?” Hermes sounded wary and not confident. “Then you should probably go see Dad. You worried him when you destroyed your wing of the palace.”

  Chapter 9

  ARIADNE STIFFENED, shock hitting her like a bucket of cold water. “You did what?” She tried to get her mental sea legs with this new, slightly terrifying information. Dionysus cared about her leaving and perceived rejection enough he had destroyed part of Olympus.

  The god tucked into her shoulder like a blanket said nothing, but clung to her tighter. He could destroy buildings on a whim and yet held her like she was the only safe thing on the world. Ariadne decided it wasn’t a train of thought she wanted to go down, knowing there was nothing she could do.

  “Right. Of course you did, you silly man. Right.” She repeated and sighed from the bottom of her soul. She ignored Hermes’s her huge eyes of surprise.

  “Look, there’s no point in going back right now.” Seeing as the reasons she left were still valid. Still mortal. “Why don’t we go visit that one king, the one with the new hybrid grapes? Give it a while before you head back, take some time to get your head on straight.” It would take him time to adjust to the fact she wouldn’t be returning to Olympus with him. She would need time to adjust too.

  Dionysus responded instantly, seeing straight through her hedging. “I’m not going back without you.” But he clearly wasn’t thinking straight if he thought he would be able to bring a mortal woman with him openly.

  Hermes gave Ariadne a sharply speculative look. Ariadne didn’t like it, or the trace of amusement she could see under it. She gave Hermes the hairy eyeball for a moment.

  “We’ll talk about it.” She lied, not intending to budge an inch.

  “We can go see Demeter and help her can too.” Dionysus responded snidely, still clinging to her tightly, smearing lipstick onto her sweaty neck.

  She inhaled sharply. They were going to be going below the belt, were they? “Well, if you want to go back to the Underworld to hang out with Persephone and Hades, feel free. I can practice making pickles.” She finished ominously, thinking hard about suggestively shaped pickles in his direction.

  She could feel him smile into the crook of her neck and flushed, heat creeping up her neck to her ears. When she looked up, Hermes was gone.

  THEY visited the King Maron, he of the hybrid grapes, although Ariadne has no doubt they would be visiting Demeter afterwards. If only just to tease her. Maron had started and organized the worship of Dionysus on his small rural island. He had even created some entirely new varieties of wine. They didn’t come up to the standard of wine on Olympus, but they were close. Despite this the man was priest of Apollo, amusingly enough.

  King Maron, once he had calmed down about a personal visit from a god, was actually fairly charming. He was also young, handsome and despite the size and rural nature of his kingdom, fairly rich. He was also single. That turned out to be a problem.

  “Would you like to see the vineyards?” Maron offered, eyes flickering to the empty pocket of air beside her where no one stood.

  “Sure.” Ariadne agreed easily. “He’ll be sleeping a while anyway after the party last night, we might as well not wait up.” Or let their host work himself into a frothing fre
nzy of anxiety. When Dionysus woke he would do one of two things. He would either find Ariadne like she had a beacon attached or wander around poking his nose into everything causing chaos as he went.

  Dionysus predictably found her at the most awkward possible moment. Ariadne walked out of the King’s bedroom wearing new clothes with her hair still wet from bathing. Never mind that she had used the communal bath earlier, it looked as if they just had a casual hookup. His expression didn’t even flutter but Ariadne could feel the sharp edge under the deceptively docile expression.

  For the first time since she had been rescued off Naxos, she wondered what Dionysus would have done if she had taken other lovers or attempted to. He certainly hadn’t seemed pleased at Theseus’s attempt to claim her.

  “Did I miss something?” Dionysus asked, removing the sleep crumbs out of his eyes with careful, precise movements to not disturb his makeup.

  King Maron visibly flushed, unable to look away from the casually half dressed god, painted and pierced.

  “I fell into the biggest pile of fertilizer I’ve ever seen. It was the opposite of dignified.” Ariadne told him, tugging on the too long sleeves of her borrowed dress. “Maron kindly offered me his wife’s old clothes to change into.”

  “You’re married?” Dionysus feigned surprised, hooking his arm around Ariadne’s waist and pulling her into him. His fingers rubbed the skin under the hem of her shirt like a worry stone.

  Maron looked sad for a moment. “I was. It was an arranged match from when we were children. She was more like my sister to be honest, so when she wanted out of the match there were no hard feelings.” His expression said that he missed her, but Ariadne wasn’t touching that issue with a pole.

  Dionysus hummed under his breath. “Well, let’s go try some of the wine, if Ariadne’s done inspecting the plants.” He said brightly and the king, foolishly relaxed.

  “Of course! I would be honored.” Maron agreed, cheeks glowing. Ariadne had a sudden suspicion why his arranged marriage hadn’t worked out.

  She didn’t trust Dionysus’s smile. It was his normal smile, but his eyes were these of a god, not the man she had fallen for.

  ON their way to the cellar, Dionysus dropped back to ask casually, “So was he any good?”

  Ariadne swatted his side as best she could with him practically walking in lockstep with her. “Don’t be like that. Double standards are ugly.”

  His expression didn’t change. “That good, huh?”

  Dionysus was a man, but he was also a god and both were ugly when jealous. Double standards or not, the king might yet have a fate as a smear on the ground if Ariadne didn’t do something. Despite the urge to goad her lover slash friend about his hypocrisy, she would do the right thing. Grudgingly.

  “He kept asking if everything he did pleased you. The man looked at me and only saw you.” She didn’t bother to keep the resignation out of her voice.“Maron told me how he had seen you once at one of your festivals as a child and decided to make you one of the patron gods of his entire country.”

  Dionysus stared straight ahead for a long moment before he sighed. He glanced at her and said, “I overreacted a bit then.”

  Ariadne didn’t bother answering.

  The rest of the evening was pleasant, only noteworthy was the way King Maron turned completely red when his patron god drank his wine and complimented it. The flush stayed the rest of night, going all the way to the tips of his ears every time he took a drink. Dionysus softened enough to admit to her on their way back to their rooms,

  “He is rather attractive.”

  Ariadne felt her mood plummet like Icarus had from the sky. “For you of course. Who am I compared to a god? Nothing. Not even worth a look. ” She said bitterly, closing the bedroom door behind them. She ran her hands over her face. “I need to sleep.” She decided, but stopped.

  Dionysus stood in front of her, arms crossed. “You were right, I do have double standards.” He admitted grouchily, flooring her. “Sex is fun, but it’s just sex for me. It’s not for you.” He raised a challenging eyebrow at her. Ariadne looked away and couldn’t think of anything to say.

  “You get attached.” Dionysus told her with a frown.

  “Is that supposed to be a bad thing?” Ariadne demanded. “If we’re friends, then why is it wrong of me to want a lover as well?”

  “I’m right here!” He exclaimed frustratedly, gesturing broadly to himself, glittering green eyes stark against his dark eyeliner. His wrist bangles rattled with the force of the movement.

  Chapter 10

  ARIADNE THREW HER HANDS in the air, countering, “You don’t think of me as anything but a friend. You said it yourself, sex doesn’t mean anything to you.”

  “What in the name of Hades gave you the impression I don’t think of you as a lover?” Dionysus demanded, affronted, hands on his hips.

  Ariadne glared at him, frustration boiling over. “Maybe it was the way you never introduced me to anyone as your lover. Maybe it was the way you avoided me without giving me a reason, or the way you stopped having sex with me. Those are things that give me the impression you don’t think of me as a lover.” She took a ragged breath. “Or much of me at all.” She added bitterly, eyes full of tears despite herself.

  Dionysus opened his mouth. Closed it. Licked his lips. “Oh.”

  Ariadne pushed past him, desperate to get some fresh air. On the balcony the cold air outside stripped the warmth of the room from her in an instant. The stars glittered in the sky above like a blanket of black velvet with icy white sapphires. Night and darkness obscured the rest of the world like a dream. The stone of the balcony railing dug into her shaking hands, unbending under her franticly spasming hands as she resisted the urge to bury her face in her hands and sob.

  It didn’t stop the tears. The nighttime chill stole the heat from them before they finished reaching her chin, leaving her face both cold and wet. She breathed carefully through her gritted teeth and let them come, releasing the pain. In, out. In, out. Let the hurt come out through the tears and stop hurting her anymore. Ariadne let it out.

  When she was done, empty, tired and numb in more ways than one, she went back in. She didn’t see Dionysus in the room. She crawled into the empty bed and pulled the blankets over her.

  OF course, then Ariadne couldn’t actually sleep. It figured. She had bypassed tired and leapt straight into the impossible arena of too tired to sleep. She flipped. She flopped.

  She got up and went back out to the balcony. The cold was worse now, digging into her bones like it was hungry for her warmth. The stars seemed untouchable and distant. She went back in, shoulders slumped, disappointed and frost in her knotted hair.

  The room was still empty.

  Suddenly, Ariadne couldn’t take it anymore. She left the bedroom, prowling the palace halls just for something to do that wasn’t sitting with her thoughts and feelings. It wasn’t as interesting as she thought it might have been. But it was something to do.

  Ariadne had a pang of sympathy for her mad, twisted twin. He had to have been so bored trapped in the labyrinth. But then, he ate anyone who might have been able to keep him company. For the first time, Ariadne had the sudden thought to wonder why Dionysus was so alone. He was well liked and loved. What reason did he have to put walls up with people?

  Having them with her made sense. Loving a short lived person was just grief waiting to happen, and immortals didn’t handle that kind of thing gracefully. It was a pain they were not equipped to handle and so they avoided it, distancing themselves from the suffering of mortal lives.

  The gods were powerful enough the toy with dynasties of mortal royalty on whims, yet they were insecure enough to lash out at any perceived rejection. Ariadne had quite a bit of time to think during her time on Olympus, and most of it wound up being more than vaguely blasphemous and judgmental.Truly, she had stewed in her negative feelings too long. It had verged on her being poisoned, unknowing. It was one of Ariadne’s many reasons to n
ot return there.

  Just before the sun began peeking through the clouds, servants began filtering through the halls. Ariadne returned to her room, not wanting to be under foot. Or worse, explain the reason for her insomnia to their host.

  The bedroom was still empty. Her heart fell. Ariadne sighed and got ready for the day anyway. No matter how much things hurt, she had to keep going.

  Maron was polite but visibly disappointed that there was only her at breakfast. She gave him a polite smile and felt small. He gamely offered to show her the rest of the estate despite the lack of divinity accompanying her. Ariadne declined, fists clenched in her lap. They had come for Dionysus to visit the king. If he wasn’t around, there wasn’t much for Ariadne to do besides take up space.

  Her head cleared by the time the midday meal rolled around and she asked to see how the wines are blended. It’s a secret process naturally, but being the close companion of the literal god of wine got her a pass. She learned quickly over the next few days and just as quickly lost patience when Dionysus didn’t return or show his face. She told him how she felt and he had abandoned her without so much as a goodbye or even telling her he was leaving.

  Maron approached her that night before she went to her room. “Are you two having problems?” He asked tentatively, looking like he was regretting opening his mouth.

  Ariadne closed her eyes and gritted her teeth. “You could say that.” How do you admit you’re hopelessly in love with someone who had probably realized it was never going to work? You don’t.

  Maron hesitated. “I’m not an expert in love, but I could lend you an ear. Or shoulder.” He added cautiously, watching her blink back frustrated tears. “I have some experience in matters of troubled love.” He finished self depreciatingly.