| |
––––––––
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.
“I don’t know what else to do.” Ariadne said, reaching for her clothes at the foot of the bed and wiggling into her dress with a hiss of pain. The fabric rasped against her angry sunburn like a wire brush. She stood, straightening out the material of her dress.
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.
“Would having my brother’s children be so bad?” Hermes frowned at her.
Ariadne sighed heavily. Men. “First of all, you’re not the one squeezing a watermelon out of your genitals. Second of all, no children are better than unwanted children.” She paused to see if any of this had sunk in. He was grimacing but nodding. Ah, Ariadne was growing fond of him. So many positive signs of the ability to learn.
She stopped walking. He stopped as well, rocking back on his heels. “Thirdly, my twin was the Minotaur.”
* * *