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Pirithous
With her body atop his, still joined, he could not leave her as he might have, and perhaps it was because of this that she had chosen not to move. Thalia may not have been able to hear his pain, but she was bright and quick, and for all her strange ways, she had a deft hand when it came to men. He was not certain she had meant to say it. Or perhaps because of that, he did not believe she had spoken of her feelings purposely. She was too smart to speak of love, for her own sake if not his, when she knew it could not last.
She was too smart to love him, knowing what she did. And yet...
The sun sent long, slanted shadows through the room before she stirred, her body writhing against his with some dream in a way that made him harden. She made a breathy sound, almost a hum, her thighs squeezing tight against his hips. He closed his eyes and bit the inside of his cheek, hoping to gather his wits before he let her drive him mad with want again. She could not honestly expect him to deny her when she moved that way, sliding her cleft up and down the length of his—
“Thalia,” he called, his voice rougher than he meant it to be. He shook her shoulder gently, and her eyes opened a slit, a lazy smile curving her lips.
“Hm?” Her hand slipped down between them, her fingers closing around him, encouraging.
He groaned, not daring to move for fear she would stop. He wanted it. He wanted to be inside her again, bury himself deep and stay there forever, wrapped in her arms, encompassed by her love. Her love. He swore in Achaean, his mind grasping for the words he needed in a language he couldn’t remember.
“Should I sing you your ABCs?” she asked, pressing the head of his—what had she called it that other day? He couldn’t remember that word either, just then, and any hope he had of recalling it disappeared as he was engulfed in her warmth, all the way to the hilt in one swift motion. He groaned again, though it sounded more like a growl, and she made another humming sound, deep in her throat, her eyes half-closed. Not even a god could have stopped himself from moving with her when she began to rock her hips.
But a god would see no reason to stop, he thought, pulling her hard against his body with his good arm. A god would see a willing lover and know it was his right to claim her, with little thought to what mortal troubles it might cause. And Thalia was his. Thalia belonged to him, and he would not let them take her.
He flipped her to her back and pinned her beneath him, grunting as the movement jarred his shoulder, and then he was deep inside of her again. Her legs wrapped around his waist, her arms around his neck as he slid in and out.
She called to him, the word more moan than anything else and he did not know its meaning but for the way she clung to him, her teeth marking his throat. Harder, her bite told him. More.
She cried out, her body shuddering around his, her back arching with her pleasure and then she shivered again, gasping with the echo of his own release. He kissed her, hard and deep, and her fingers wound through his hair, holding his mouth to hers.
Just as suddenly, she stopped, her body stiffening beneath his as a wave of concern washed through her. She pushed him back, holding his face in her hands, asking him something that he didn’t understand. He shook his head, his lips searching for the place where her pulse beat hard and fast beneath the skin. He was still hard enough to find release once more. To give her the same, again.
“Pirithous!” she said, shaking his right shoulder. She shoved at his chest, and he rolled to his back, obedient. With an impatient sigh, she started singing, the tune simple and familiar, but he was more interested in settling her back atop his—Oh.
His shoulder. That was what had stopped her.
“Now I know my A-B-Cs, next time won’t you sing with me.”
He apologized in Achaean, just to vex her. She gave him a look of distinct irritation and drew breath to begin the song again, but he laughed. “You need not sing on, Thalia.”
Her eyes narrowed. “How long have you remembered English?”
“Just since the last line.”
“Is your shoulder all right?” she demanded. “I didn’t mean for—well. Not that I’m complaining, I just don’t want you to come down with another fever and start waving a sword under my nose.”
He smiled. “Have I not done so without fever?”
“Not that kind of sword.” But her anger softened into amusement. “I guess you can’t be that hurt or you wouldn’t be teasing me.”
“I had forgotten the pain.” Though now that she’d asked, the joint was beginning to ache again. He brushed her hair from her face. “And I had forgotten how easy it was to forget.”
She flushed. “I didn’t realize it helped so much, or I would have—”
“No,” he said, his voice sharp enough to make her flinch. He stroked her cheek to take the sting from his response, letting her feel his sorrow to have caused her even that much distress. “I would not have you lie with me for that reason, Thalia. Better if it is for love, or not at all.”
She turned her face away, her cheeks burning even brighter red. “I suppose that’s something that you would know, isn’t it? Why I wanted to—or you would have stopped me earlier.”
“Thalia,” he murmured, catching her by the chin and turning her face back to his. “You said as much to me, before you fell asleep. And after, I wished to slow you, but I did not have the words for it until now.”
Her jaw tightened. “So what you really mean is that it’s better if we just don’t.”
“No,” he said again. “And yes, perhaps, for your sake. I had hoped until today that you were too stubborn to love me, that you might be spared that heartbreak. And it was you who wished for this to end between us. That is the only reason I would stop you, to respect your wishes.”
“I wish you would change your mind. It would make all of this so much easier.”
He smiled, though it made his heart ache. “Perhaps for a short time it would, until the gods had need of me. Until it no longer served them for me to be in love.”
“But if you had Persephone’s protection—”
“The gods make promises of convenience, Thalia. They will honor them only as long as it serves their purposes. Persephone of all the gods is least likely to break her word, but if they have need of something greater from me, something that might risk my life, she is only one against many, and not even she has the power to stand against Zeus. Nor will the promises she made me stop the others from harming you to reach me.”
“But my God will.”
He hesitated, unwilling to disturb her. Perhaps she was right and her faith was not misplaced in spite of Aphrodite. If he challenged it and she turned from her god, he would only be putting her at greater risk, but if she was wrong...
“Your shoulder is hurting again, isn’t it?” She pressed her hand to his forehead and frowned. “You don’t feel too warm, at least. Maybe we broke the fever, finally.”
He pulled her hand away from his face. He had never seen any sign of the Hebrew god for himself, nor heard of any protections given to his people in the face of other powers. That alone would not have alarmed him, for he had never spent time enough among those people to make note of it and would not have thought to look for it if he had, but he had heard the stories. Their god was no less unjust than his own, and if Aphrodite whispered in his ear, Thalia would not be safe, no matter how strong her faith.
“You deny me when I ask for your vows, Thalia, but at least promise me this much. Do not depend on the protection of your god alone.”
She snorted. “Don’t pray to the saints and angels or the Virgin Mary, but don’t depend on God, either? Pirithous, if you had your way I wouldn’t have any divine power left to petition.”
“I do not mean that you should appeal to a higher power beside your own,” he explained, before she could stop him. “I mean that you should not trust any god to defend you.”
Her forehead creased. “You didn’t seem bothered that I trusted God before.”
“That was before I knew the god you prayed to.”
“You don’t know the God I pray to,” she said, her words clipped. “Going to a church once doesn’t make you an expert on God’s power.”
“I mean no disrespect, Thalia.”
“No, of course not.” She sat back, the space between them seeming uncrossable now, the more so when she pulled the linens up, covering her nakedness. “No wonder you don’t care what gods other people believe in. You think they’re all the same. Equally worthless and equally disloyal.”
He pressed his lips together, certain that no matter what he said she would find fault in it. She rose from the bed, still wrapped in the sheet. That she felt she must hide her body from him disturbed him more than her anger, though he did not know why.
“God, Pirithous,” she muttered. “Just because your gods jerk you around doesn’t mean everyone else’s do.”
He exhaled heavily, cursing himself for letting it come to this, but he could not shy from it now. Not if she would not let him protect her, elsewise. “Your Virgin is my goddess, Aphrodite. The same one who led me to Hades and left me there to rot.”
“Please!” she snapped. “Why would God have His son by Aphrodite?”
Pirithous shook his head slowly, sitting up in the bed. He would not say it. Not when she spoke in that tone, and not when her god might hear him and take offense. Thalia could determine it for herself, if she wished to see it, and there was no purpose in his uttering it if she did not.
“It doesn’t make any sense,” Thalia said. “Aphrodite is a goddess of love. She can’t be a virgin, anyway, and she certainly could never be free of sin!”
“Aphrodite is always a virgin when she comes to the bed of her husband,” he said softly. “She is reborn from the seafoam, clean and pure once more. It is her nature, to always be the virgin bride, and she would go blushing even to your unnamed god if it served her.”
“How do you know?” she demanded.
“I saw her in the temple, in the statue of Mary with the candles at her feet. She met my eyes and laughed, and since then I have feared for you. Aphrodite does nothing that does not bring her glory, and no man or god is beyond her influence once she has bestowed her favors. She is powerful, Thalia, and she is already in his House.”
She shook her head, biting her lip. “I don’t believe you.”
The words stung him more than they should have. “What purpose would it serve me to lie?”
“I don’t know!” She swept up her clothing from the floor, refusing to meet his eyes. “I don’t know anything about you!”
He rose from the bed in one fluid motion, ignoring the pain that stabbed through his shoulder when he reached for her. His fingers closed tightly around her upper arm, and he pulled her back to face him. “After everything I have done to show you honor and respect, you would dismiss me so utterly? Insult me and dishonor me without even the grace to look me in the eye? You cannot tell me you love me one moment, and call me a liar in the next!”
She raised her chin, her eyes flashing with her own anger. “I just did.”
He growled. “I have done nothing to hurt you! Over and over, I have shown you I mean you no harm, no dishonor. I have kept my word to you in everything, and now you turn on me, for what? For the love of a god who refuses even to speak to you? Because he is not the perfect being you believed him to be, to have been seduced by a goddess of love and beauty? He would not be the first to have fallen for her charms!”
She pulled her arm free. “You don’t know anything about the god I worship or the faith I was raised with! You don’t know anything about me!”
“No?” he said. “Stubborn and headstrong, I knew you would not wish to hear this. I knew, too, that if I stayed after you refused me, you would give yourself to me again, in spite of what you’d said. I knew from the start that you would want me in time, of your own will, though you would not hear that either. Tell me, Thalia, what do I not know? When have I been wrong?”
Her cheeks were stained red now, her hands balled into fists at her sides. “You’re wrong if you think throwing any of that in my face will help!”
He snorted. “The moment I told you of Aphrodite, I could not have said anything you would have been pleased by.”
“Then maybe you should have kept your mouth shut!” And then she left him, slamming the bedroom door in his face.
Perhaps he should have, he thought, but it was far too late for that now.