What did she have to lose? She let her hand slip off the doorknob and goes with the king to his private study.
Maron sat across from her and admitted bluntly. “My marriage failed because I preferred men to woman and my wife had the opposite problem. Our parents assumed we would be agreeable to, shall we say, cover for each others issues.”
“Let me guess, it didn’t work out because having secret affairs on the side don’t quite cut it for happiness.” Ariadne guessed tiredly, gratified by his nod.
“Are you, this is difficult to say,” Maron licked his lips. “Are you a secret lover of his?”
She chewed her lip, thinking. “No, but I feel like one. Or did. Pretty sure he’s not sure if he wants me as a lover or not.” She admitted, feeling wildly vulnerable and regretting every word out of her mouth. What was she doing?
He frowned, got up and grabbed a book from his shelf. He flipped through it , staring at the page blankly for a moment before closing it. “No one in the mortal realm can agree whether Dionysus is a very old god indeed, or a very young one. But either way, to those who look it’s well known that most of his quests in love have been very brief.”
Ariadne gave him the blank stare of incomprehension. “I hardly expected to be an exception.”
Maron shook his head. “No, I mean they mostly seem to last a few nights. At most.” He met her gaze earnestly. “He may not have the knowlege how to behave in a relationship, or what might be expected of him.”
“He’s my first relationship as well, but why do I have to do all the emotional labor?” Ariadne retorted, anger flaring up like an ember reigniting under accelerant.
He closed his mouth. He gave her a sideways look. “Most people would be happy to do whatever it took to please a god.”
“My mother was half god. My father was part god. It didn’t make them better people, just more careless with others lives.” Ariadne told Maron flatly, deeply unamused at the turn in the conversation.
“Any relationship where one person has all the power or responsibilities is a bad one. If it’s not equal it’s just servitude,” She thought of some of the stories she had heard over the years, “Or slavery.”
“And if he can’t give you that?” Maron asked her quietly, and Ariadne had just about enough of this, whatever it was.
“He’s a god. The only things they can’t do are the ones they don’t want to.” She told him before getting up from her chair. “Much obliged for the talk and the advice to treat him like an incapable infant, but I don’t want children.”
Ariadne had stomped back all the way to her still empty rooms before she realized the man she had just spoken to had blue eyes. Maron had brown eyes.
Chapter 11
THE MAN SHE HAD TALKED to was not the same one she had spoken to at dinner. It wasn’t Dionysus in disguise she could tell that much, but beyond that she didn’t know. Not knowing who was messing with her pissed Ariadne off.
She packed nothing. She had nothing. Just as when she fled Crete, she had nothing but the clothes on her back with her. It was something that made things infinitely easier and more painful. She had nothing. No worldly possessions nor lover to hold her close.
Ariadne approached Maron, checked the color of his eyes and informed him politely she was heading out. He thanked her for her company like she was someone important. She tried not to laugh at him. She did, however, warn him.
“I’m leaving because I had a truly awful conversation with someone who looked identical to you last night. I was at my room in quite a mood before I remembered you don’t have blue eyes. I’m heading out before you are drawn into this further. But still, put the word out you might have a double running around.”
Maron swallowed, going pale indeed. “Thank you.” He swallowed again, likely thinking of some of the more notorious shapeshifters among the immortals. “I will send you with money and clothes. It would do me a dishonor not to.” Even her host had realized Ariadne was without means.
Ariadne accepted because while she hated relying on charity, this at least felt like a trade of some dubious sort. “Tell Dionysus, if he comes by and wants to know where I am that I went to practice my pickling techniques. Then look at his crotch for a moment. He’ll understand.”
“Understand what?” Maron asked, looking alarmed at her implications.
“That I am very angry indeed but also want him to know where I am so we can talk.” She translated for the man who likely feared being turned into a grapevine for offending Dionysus. “If he wants to talk.” Ariadne added quietly, already planning on getting passage on a ship headed to the area closest to Demeter’s home.
SHE got kidnapped by pirates.
Pirate raids happened fairly frequently in the region, growing more prominent by the year as more discontented and frequently wronged women joined the crews. The entire ship was captured and everyone was stripped of their belongings, money and in some cases clothes if they were fine enough. Being the gifts of a king, Ariadne’s clothes were fine enough for confiscation. Unlike the other near naked nobility and merchants on the deck, she was comfortable in her near nudity. Traveling in a group known for it’s orgies had strange upsides, as it turned out.
In an odd twist of fate, it is her past as the princess of the Labyrinth that saved her. The first mate, a vaguely familiar young woman recognized her.
“Princess Ariadne.” She said, voice reverent before bowing to Ariadne. The other pirates stop harassing the passengers to stare at them. “I never took the time to thank you for saving everyone.”
Ariadne shrugged, sea wind stinging against her slowly burning skin. “I never took the time to know your name.”
“It’s Coronis.” The young woman told her promptly. “Thank you for saving my brother and I.”
“I didn’t do all that much.” Ariadne tried to demur, guilt over her failed escape attempt eating at her. She had tried to leave the tributes to their gory demise. Despite his short sightedness and lechery, Theseus had been the one to end the nightmare of the Minotaur. “Theseus was the real hero.” She admitted grudgingly.
Coronis spoke sharply, stalking forward to get into Ariadne’s face. “You took the time to guide me and my brother through the labyrinth, and comfort him when he wept in fear of the Minotaur. You took the time to ensure our escape even when you had to navigate the labyrinth alone afterwards. You are a hero.” Coronis told Ariadne, daring her to disagree.
The Captain of the now avidly eavesdropping pirates sauntered over. “All that and you still got dumped on an empty island for your trouble by the Prince. Rumor is you got picked up by a god afterwards. That true?” She inspected Ariadne who had sweat now dripping from her skin, despite standing there in nothing but her underwear.
“Yeah.” Ariadne shrugged, sun burned skin tight on her shoulders. “How’d that come out?” She risked asking, taking a deep breath from her too small lungs.
Coronis told her dryly, “When the families of the so called ‘tributes’ sent a search party for you, the island was empty. There was however, a massive grove of grapevines and ivy in the middle of the beach.” She smirked, adding, “One of the sailors was stupid enough to eat some grapes and was drunk for three days.”
“Subtle, Dionysus is not.” Ariadne agreed with a groan, rubbing the heel of her palm into her eye where a headache promised to bloom. Darkness flirted at the edge of her vision.
“Theseus’s face when he heard you were picked up by the god of orgies was hilarious.” Coronis revealed with vicious amusement, ushering her to the shade to sit down with a nod at the Captain. “Where should we be letting you off at then, Princess? Seeing as I owe you a debt and the crew doesn’t want to anger your lover.”
Ariadne went to answer but the world went dark as she finally succumbed to heatstroke.
SHE woke up back in her cabin with cold packs on her pulse points, still wearing only her underwear. Hermes sat in the chair that didn’t exist before, flipping a familiar ball of string back and
forth between his hands. The last she had seen of it Theseus had it as they fled the Labyrinth.
“Can I help you?” She offered, as the god of thieves snatched the ball out of the air, clearly having been deep in thought.
“That’s what I’m here for, actually. To help you, not the other way around.” He told her cheerfully in such a way that Ariadne instinctively knew his mood was fake.
“Why would you do that?” She questioned, a cold pack sliding off her neck.
Hermes smiled wider. It looked painful. “Why wouldn’t I want to help out my baby brother’s lover?”
“You got ordered to, huh.” She placed a cold pack on her face before realizing it was warm. She took them all off and sat up on the bed to face the god across from her.
“Is it that obvious?” He grimaced, bouncing the thread ball one handed.
“Where is Dionysus? What’s his problem with me?” She asked, knowing she was talking to the god of liars and despite that he was still her best bet at a straight answer. Her life had definitely taken a few weird turns lately.
He gave her a bewildered look. “I have no idea what has happened with this situation aside from turning into a clusterfuck.”
“I had a fight with Dionysus. He didn’t come back. Someone pretended to be my host and gave me bad relationship advice. I decided to leave before Dionysus’s new favorite vintner got creamed on the sidelines.” Ariadne summed up. “Your turn, what’s going on with Dionysus?”
Hermes looked thoughtful. “That makes sense.” He drummed his fingers on his thigh before snapping them. “Right. Still have no idea.” He gave her a charming grin, as if he thought that would get him out of answering.
Ariadne got off the bed, staggered, caught her balance and then sat in his lap. The grin fell off his face. She looked up at him, slightly startled at the height difference even sitting down. “Right. I’ll ask one. more. time.” She laced her arms around his neck and pulled her face next to his ear to hiss. “What is going on?”
She could see his throat move as he swallowed. “You are a surprisingly scary woman.” Hermes shifted like he wanted to fidget and realized what it did with her in his lap. “As far as I can tell my brother has no idea how to use his words and express how he feels about you.” Ariadne’s breath stilled in her lungs. How he felt- could it be? Hermes continued on like he hadn’t felt her tense up, despite the flickering look at her and away. “He’s either sulking or pestering people for advice and ignoring all of it and beginning to panic the longer it goes on. The body double was probably Dad, he’s the worst. At romantic advice.” He tacked on distractedly.
Ariadne wrinkled her nose. “I am so glad he didn’t hit on me. Would have broke character I suppose.”
“It’s uh, actually really strange he didn’t, but meeting you I think I’m starting to get why. Dionysus likes dangerous women.” Hermes sighed. “Dad does not.” He added, trying to peel her hands off him. She obligingly let him think he could have his freedom when he wanted it.
“You seem like an intelligent person who actually knows the person I’m having trouble with.” She said instead of asking if Dionysus was in love with her like she wanted to.
“I do not like the sound of this.” Hermes picked her up bodily and sat her back on the bed, sitting down and jiggling his leg in a blur.
Chapter 12
ARIADNE IGNORED THAT. “Do you have any advice?”
“Alright, that’s fair.” He admitted, running both hands through his mop of curls. “Right. Dionysus is not going to spontaneously learn how to use words for his feelings. That’s going to be a long term thing. Problem is that if he can’t put how he feels into words he doesn’t know what to do.”
Ariadne nods and catches the ball of string thrown at her. “So, what, a question and answer session where we stab around in the dark?” She throws the ball back at him, surprised how easily he snatched it out of the air to juggle it again.
“No, that would require words. The solution here is going to have to leave words out of it.” Hermes lobbed the ball back to her.
Ariadne bounced the ball of string in her palm and had to snatch it before it got away from her. It didn’t help her think, so she tossed it back to him. “So what are you suggesting?”
“Sex.” He tossed the ball back and she barely caught it with the tips of her nails.
“Be more specific.” She ordered, throwing it back and hitting his chest with it.
“Talk during sex. Doing something else might help him think.” He threw the ball to her. “Or not think enough to let the words come out. Whichever.”
Ariadne rerolled the ball of thread where it had come undone, thinking about it. “I have been told by multiple older women the fastest way to get a man to dump me is to try and talk about feelings. Specifically his feelings. You’re suggesting I murder what’s left of my sex life in the hope of understanding a relationship even apparently the gods can’t quite wrap their minds around.”
“Pretty much.” He agreed, watching her fingers move the thread, round and round as she reformed the ball.
“Why would I want to do that?” She asked, more to herself than Hermes. “Ruin the last good thing I have left in my life.” Ariadne muttered, sighed and tossed the completed ball back at him.
He caught it without looking at it. “Do you want to be immortal?” He asked bluntly, startling her. Was he implying...?
“For it’s own sake? No.” She smiled thinly at his surprised look. “I’ve seen what immortality does to you gods. It’s a miserable existence if you’re not careful, and there is never, ever an end in sight. Even the Titans still suffer in the depths of Tartarus, no end to be had, no relief for the rest of eternity. At least as a mortal I can escape the pain and unjust rulers to the Underworld and the relief of the waters of Lethe. You have no such option, mostly.” She felt her smile crumble and looked away, and caught sight of her clothes folded at the foot of her bunk.
Hermes was completely, unnaturally still considering her with a slightly tilted head. “You might not want to be immortal, but I think you would handle it well.” He said thoughtfully. Then there was the full weight of a god wrapped in mortal seeming examining her. The air grew heavy and hard to breathe and that her skin was no protection from being seen.
“You would do well to take him up on it when Dionysus offers it, lest you break my brother’s heart forever.” His expression grew cruel, matching the intensity of the pressure still slowly building. “As you just said yourself, immortals have no escape. He would grieve you forever.”
Ariadne rolled her eyes, ignoring his show of power through force of will and knowledge he really did care for Dionysus. “I thought you were supposed to be a good liar. No emotion, no matter how intense lasts forever. Not even for gods.”
The pressure broke like mist before the sun. “You’re no fun. Why can’t you be a romantic?” He sulked for a moment before he added knowingly. “I know you love him.”
“I’m a romantic.” She defended. “I’m also terrified of falling in love and expecting things I will never get and be perpetually heart broken over it. My mother loved my father that way. It’s an ugly, painful way to live.” Ariadne suddenly understood why Hermes was a dangerous god. He was too damn friendly and likable. She had never talked openly like this to someone else, except Dionysus.
She was abruptly, sharply aware of how lonely her existence was.
“So tell him what you want.” Hermes threw the ball back at her.
“What if I get it? What if it makes him unhappy and he does it anyway?” She threw the ball back harder than necessary. She thought briefly of what Hermes implied she could have before recoiling form the thought. Some temptations were too much to resist.
“Isn’t that what you’re doing to yourself?” He tossed the ball back and forth between his hands, gaining speed until there is only a blurred red arc between them. “You two really are a pair.” Hermes sighed, sounding put upon and once more completely fake.
She caught the ball by reflex, not really aware of it until it’s in her hand, warm in a way thread shouldn’t be. It also hadn’t snapped or frayed once in the rough walled labyrinth. That was odd, it had been ordinary if high quality thread when she had bought it.
“You ready to head out to Demeter’s and get your canning on?” He changed the subject, surveying her newly clothed state with unconcealed relief.
Ariadne tried to swallow back the whine that wanted to come out of her. She managed not to grimace. “If he doesn’t come to talk soon, I’m leaving with Persephone.” She threatened mournfully before belatedly realizing the deeper connotations her threat had.
Hermes, the bastard, just laughed at her and offered Ariadne his hand. She took the provided hand and the world blurred around her, ground vanishing under her feet.
ARIADNE stumbled at the overwhelming sensation of vertigo as the world seemed to have the clarity of smoke in a smeared mirror. Suddenly, they were down the road from where Demeter lived and all strange effects of travel vanished. Except the nausea.
Hermes laughed at her again when she threw up after their arrival. Ariadne resented that she quite liked him. “Are you sure you’re not pregnant, hmm?” He said laughing, walking backwards while facing her on the path to Demeter and Persephone’s home.
Ariadne gave him the look that deserved. “Even you’re not that fast.”
His face creased with horror. “Not me! I meant my brother’s spawn.”
She cackled at his nervous discomfort. “As if I let anyone between my legs without making sure that’s not a problem. My luck my child would turn out like my poor twin. No, Asclepius was quite helpful in that regard.” She concluded with a nod, grateful for the birth control.
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