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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 frenzy 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.
* * *