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ARIADNE AS AMPELOS had to pick her jaw off the ground. Semele was not only made immortal, but Zeus also made her a goddess. Looking around, she realized the only other person as surprised at this was Semele herself. Or, as she was known as now, Thyone. A minor goddess of the frenzies that were characteristic of the festivals of Dionysus’s followers.
Ariadne cornered the new goddess alone as soon as she could the next day. There had been no chance the night before during the party that was thrown in Thyone and Dionysus’s honor.
“If you find out what you being made into a goddess was about, please pass it on.” She requested of the new goddess, passing her a glass of water.
Thyone only shook her head silently. Probably from the hangover, come to think of it. Oddly, she didn’t seem immune to hangovers like Dionysus was and Ariadne had become.
Ariadne didn’t get any answers in that direction. Thyone was as quietly regal and close lipped as her mortal self was. She did, on rare occasion, send Ariadne pitying looks.
Which, Ariadne understood the new goddess felt bad for her. Ariadne would likely soon be passed over in favor of someone else, and Thyone had received her happy ending past all reasonable expectation. Ariadne knew that there would be no happy ending for her, not even a belated one like Thyone had received. Despite that, the pitying looks still pissed her off and she took to avoiding the new goddess.
It was depressingly easy. Thyone consorted almost exclusively with women and her son was the only exception allowed in the gatherings. Satyrs were not allowed, being known as always horny and with poor impulse control. Or so Ariadne as Ampelos was told by a nervous nymph blocking the door to yet another gathering.
Since Dionysus spent at least half his time with his mother, this left Ariadne with a surprising amount of free time that had been previously occupied. She used it to brood and strike up a friendship with Silenus. He was a frequently drunk old satyr that had something to do with raising Dionysus, although no one spoke of how in detail. His childhood continued to be referred to in winces and insider references.
Silenus was kind, and patient with her as he showed her how the wine on Olympus was made. “The gods can whip up their own any time of course, but the rest of us get to make do with the old fashioned way.” He told her with a whiskery smile.
Then came the day the old satyr made her blood run cold. “I don’t say this to be cruel my child, but how long are you planning on disguising yourself? Such things cannot last forever.”
Ariadne is wrist deep in the dirt planting grape cuttings and sprayed dirt over them both when she recoiled. “W-what?” She stuttered before his words even registered with her higher brain functions.
He sighed and squatted next to her in the vineyard row to pat the upturned plant back down into the warm earth. “It’s obvious to this old satyr that you're not a satyr at all. There’s signs. But I don’t know why you are risking Tartarus tricking the gods. They don’t take kindly to this kind of thing.” Silenus gave the ground one last pat and looked her in the eye, his tone grave. “And they will find out eventually.”
“Dionysus is the one who disguised me.” She confessed, feeling her anxiety spike with the admission. “I don’t have any talent with magic at all.” Which galled her the longer she thought about it. Her mother and aunt were mighty users of magic. Her cousin Medea was rumored to be pants shitting powerful. Even Phaedra could work up a glow like a dim moon when she was upset.
The Minotaur really had sucked up all the power in their shared womb. Or maybe she gave it to him so he could survive with his mutated body. Either way, there was no going back. Ariadne had no magic that she knew of.
Silenus looked sad. “Dionysus being the one to disguise you won’t help you, lad. When things go bad, it’s always the mortals that pay the price. I would have said something earlier, but with the hubbub of everything that was Thyone’s arrival it got away from me.”
Ariadne thought of her ever widening silver streak. “I don’t know what to do.” She admitted with a sigh, running a dirty hand through her messy hair.
“Stay in the mortal realm.” Silenus advised. “I’ve taught you enough you can find a place in any of my boy’s traveling bands or if some royal catches your eye, you’d be a fine vintner.”
She wrinkled her nose. “I’ve only been learning this a little more than a year. I know that I have a lot more to learn.”
Silenus gave her a sly smile. “The mortal realm has much lower standards, you’ll find.”
She snorted, but smiled reluctantly. “Point.” Ariadne inhaled the smell of fresh green leaves and wet turned earth, sun warming her face.
Maybe it was time.
* * *
ARIADNE tried to talk to Dionysus before she left. She really did. But after the fourth time she entered a room and he left it as soon as catching sight of her, she realized he was avoiding her. That was new. She had no idea why, nor had the patience for such games.
She waited one last night in the room she shared with him. He didn’t come back that night either.
So Ariadne wrote a note, awkward and frustrated that their true last words together would be him saying, “I’m going to go see my mother,” and her distracted response of, “Tell her hello from me, will you?”
She wrote carefully, breathing slowly as to not let her jitteriness show in her handwriting. She wrote out how she tried to seek him out and failed, how she was worried she would be found out and punished and how she was going back to the mortal realm.
Ariadne looked at what she wrote.
She scribbled over the note and ate it. Ashes could be reconstructed in Olympus, where everyone but her held magic like children’s toys. The residents there had nothing but time to be breathtakingly nosy with anyone or anything remotely interesting. She wrote another note.
Had a lot of fun together! Going back to the mortal world.
Ariadne stared at it for long minutes before sighing and adding an achingly careful,
Goodbye.
* * *
ARIADNE walked down the mountain, warm summer morning fading into the cool of predawn autumn morning within the space of minutes. The realm of the gods vanished behind her, and she couldn’t help but feel the air was fresher.
It was also cold. But keeping track of the seasons on Olympus was tricky, since it changed only at the whim of the king. Time flowed slower there as well, which was part of why they had trouble connecting to mortals. Or so she suspicioned.
Ariadne made it to the base of the mountain by midday, sweaty with her exertions. She sat at the base of an olive tree and took a nap, not really thinking of anything but the warmth of the afternoon and the burning in her legs. She was definitely not acknowledging the suppressed tears that kept trying to press their way out.
She woke up to Dionysus standing in front of her, face creased with fury, note crumpled in his clenched fist. His power flared around him, rippling the air like a heatwave.
“What. Is. This?” He hissed, hair radiating around him like a corona. He stepped forward to drop the crunched ball of paper into her lap like a dead mouse.
Ariadne wasn’t quite sure why Dionysus was upset. It made a small part of her, hidden in the hurt from what she’d had to do, happy. But even it didn’t dare whisper it’s quiet hope of love into words. She knew better, after all.
“I did try and talk to you.” She said, squinting up at him. The sun was behind his head, crowning Dionysus with blinding light and shadowing his face all at once. “You kept leaving the room as soon as you saw me. I took the hint. You didn’t want to talk to me.”
Ariadne picked up the crumpled ball of paper, and was suddenly at at a loss for words and out of her depth. It was wet in spots. As if someone had cried on it. Gods didn’t cry. They didn’t. Not over easily replaceable mortals.
“I thought we were friends.” Dionysus said coldly.
I thought you loved me back. The unspoken thought came at the same time he spoke. She wished that was what he had said, instead of her mind tricking her.
* * *