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ARIADNE KNEW IMMEDIATELY he was referring to her list of complaints. She was also a bit too tipsy to safely get into that particular conversation, but didn’t want to put it off any longer either.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t know that was how it felt for you but I should have thought about it.” He sighed, arms flopping over the side of the chair to dangle limply. “I was trying to think of ways to do better when Hermes pointed out leaving in the middle of the argument and not coming back was...” He searched for a word and winced at his choice as he said it, “Cruel.”
Ariadne liked this apology. She clearly owed Hermes something nice. “Hermes apparently gives good advice. He’s right. Every time we ran into trouble, you run away and leave me alone. I don’t know what you want with me, Dionysus.” She sat his feet gently on the ground.
“I was your lover and then you don’t want me anymore physically. You brought your mother back and-” She hesitated, voice catching.
“And I spent less time with you, leaving you questioning why you’re hiding your identity for a man who doesn’t want you.” Dionysus filled in, staring at his bare feet on the floor.
“We’ll always be friends, I would never abandon our friendship.” She reassured him quietly, stomach churning.
His head snapped up. “I don’t want to be your friend.” He spat out.
Ariadne recoiled, mouth dropping open in shock.
“What I want,” He gritted out, poisonous green eyes glittering unnaturally bright, “Is for you to hold me tightly at night, to look at at me and see through my shit and love me anyway. The way you always do.”
Ariadne opened her mouth but Dionysus continued, seeming to build momentum. “I want you by my side, not disguised. As my wife. As my partner. Not just my friend.” He finished softly, searching her face.
“I love you Ariadne.” He breathed and Ariadne met him halfway for a brief kiss. She pulled back, feeling like she could float away.
Reality hit and the euphoria turned to dread. He loved her. Her mortality couldn’t make it anything besides a tragedy in the making.
“I love you too.” She tried to show how sincere she was, that it wasn’t an automatic, trite thing. His expression closed off.
“But what?” He asked, folding his arms and holding his elbows defensively.
“But I can’t- I’m not-” She sighed and just said it. “I’m going to die one day. Maybe not today or tomorrow, but one day I will. You won’t. I can’t break your heart.”
Dionysus looked away. “I know that.” His fingers tightened on his arms until the skin bulged around his fingers. “I know that.” He repeated quietly.
Ariadne stared at her lap, lost and not sure where to go from there. He already loved her. She loved him. Maybe...maybe he could visit her yearly in the Underworld, like Persephone did her husband Hades.
“But you don’t have to.”
She looked up. He was staring at a spot over her head, shoulders tight.
“What?” She blurted.
He dropped his gaze to meet hers. “I could have my father make you immortal. If you want.”
“Why would he agree to that?” Ariadne stood, suddenly unable to stay sitting and almost knocked over her wineglass when she swayed. Dionysus reached out, steading her with gentle vines of ivy and grape. The heavy lassitude of wine vanished.
He didn’t say anything, looking up at her through his thick eyelashes. She swallowed, tightness in her throat making it uncomfortable. “Your mother died because of him. He owed you both. I’m-” She stopped, not sure what to say. “I’m not someone he would care about enough to go back on his own rules.” She finished lamely.
Dionysus got up from his seat and pulled her into his arms, vines twining around them both affectionately. “He would if we were married.” He murmured into her ear. He pulled back with a familiar wicked gleam in his eye, adding thoughtfully, “Especially if the alternative is eternal sobriety.”
Ariadne blinked rapidly. He was serious. “Marry?” Weakly, “Me?” She dragged in a lungful of air. Then, not having enough air, she took another breath, this one shallower. The tight bands around her chest seemed to tighten instead of loosening. Another breath. Another. Her available air seemed to be getting less and less with every breath, leaving her gasping like a fish on dry land.
Dionysus tucked her into his arms and hooked his chin over her shoulder. “Breathe with me. Don’t worry, okay? Just breathe with me.”
He wasn’t the one being offered- no, don’t think about it, Ariadne told herself fiercely. She focused on breathing with him and moving past her panic attack. Breathing. In. Out. In. Out.
She felt his chest rise and fall and focused on the way she remembered it felt naked under her hands, or the memory of using it as a pillow and falling asleep to the thudding of his strangely slow heartbeat.
Eventually, Ariadne pulled back and buried her face in her hands. “Why would you offer me that?” She asked neutrally as she could, emotional exhaustion dragging her voice into roughness. It wasn’t like he didn’t have other options after all.
“Because I love you. Because you deserve more than handing your identity as Ampelos. I don’t want you to pretend to be a servant. I want you as yourself, as my equal.” Dionysus paused. “Because I realized these past days what it would feel like to live without you. I hate it.” He finished venomously, the shape of his pupils slitted like a snake’s.
Ariadne put her hands over her mouth and tried to think. “What if I screw it up?” Her eyes burned with tears, throat closing up rapidly, “What if I-”
Dionysus pulled her hands away and held them in his, kissing her knuckles. “I,” He reminded her pointedly, “Have screwed up quite a bit in my life. Even if you do, it won’t kill you.” He emphasized with a careful squeeze. “Take your time to decide what you want and I’ll give it to you.” He promised softly, pulling her back into a tight hug. He pressed a kiss to her shoulder, fingers trailing through the silver streak in her hair.
Soft enough it was almost inaudible, he added, “But not too much time.”
Suddenly, Ariadne knew what the next step was. “They say that drinking wine is to bring the god of wine into your body.” She reached out and brought her wineglass between them and took a deliberate sip, maintaining eye contact.
The smile that bloomed across Dionysus’s face was part smoldering heat and part delight. “Well, how am I to refuse such an offering?”
* * *
ARIADNE woke up to the sound of broken sobs. She peeled her eyes open and located Dionysus curled up half on her naked stomach.
“What’s wrong?” She rasped.
The crying stopped. Dionysus lifted his head to peer through his tangled mess of hair. “Ariadne?” His voice was even hoarser than hers was.
Ariadne blinked, and lifted her head further to peer around the room. The rest of the room came into focus. The dried sheen of fluids coated the sheets, most of it half clotted pools of blood. The bedding was rumpled up and tossed on the floor and vines crawled throughout the room, heavy with fat green grapes. Dionysus himself was naked, covered in bite marks, bruises and from what she had briefly seen of his back, deep scratches.
“Are you okay?” She sat up abruptly, dragging him closer to inspect his wounds. “What happened?”
He just shook his head, pulled her close and breathed unsteadily into her naked shoulder, tears hot on her skin. Obligingly, Ariadne held him back, terrified by the scene in front of her.
Or she tried to. His back was a mass of ichor filled cuts and what could only be called gouges. There was nowhere safe to touch without hurting him. “I can’t remember what happened. Did I... did I hurt you?” She asked, voice cracking and hands starting to shake as she gingerly rested them on the back of his arms.
“Did you hurt me?” Dionysus laughed, short and bitterly. Ariadne’s heart dropped to the floor. He pulled out of the hug to look at her, expression softening. “Of course not. I, on the other hand am a fucking idiot.” He traced her shoulder like it was the softest of silks instead of sticky with blood.
Ariadne belatedly realized she was also covered in bruises and scratches. It just wasn’t immediately obvious because of the fact none of it hurt and the distraction of the clinging god.
“I’ll be the judge of that.” She told him firmly. “Tell me what happened.”
Dionysus wiped his eyes, smearing blood and eyeliner across his face and reached a hand out, touching her forehead. The alcohol clouded memories of the night before dissolved into crystal clear recall.
They had went back to her room and had sex, more wine, competitive ranked sex that had lead to more wine and then... “We brought your god powers into the bedroom.” Ariadne groaned. “We’re both idiots.” She thunked her head against his, foreheads touching. “But why would you think I died?”
“Because after you passed out, I did too. When I woke up it was to you bleeding everywhere. I mean, I was too but I’m immortal, it didn’t matter, but you almost died. All because I wanted to show off and give you on unforgettable night to apologize for being a thoughtless ass.” Dionysus took a deep breath, “But all I did was hurt you again. It feel like all I ever do.” He buried his face into her shoulder once more and began to cry again. “I’m sorry.”
“I’m sorry too. I agreed to it, despite knowing better...” Ariadne stroked his hair and stared up at the ceiling crowded with rustling leafy vines. “It was impressive though.” She tried to console him, the memory warming her sore body.
“Yeah?” He didn’t lift his head, clinging to her front like a burr.
Ariadne shifted to curl an arm around him and squeeze, suppressing a wince at the movement. “We can’t take it back so might as well own what happened. So yeah, it was worth it. Maybe less wine next time.”
He stiffened in her arms and pulled back to give her an outraged look. “Next time? There’s not going to be a next time! You almost died.” His voice cracked, mirroring his fragile expression.
“Because we were both shitfaced.” Ariadne pointed out reasonably.
“I thought you were dead.” Dionysus told her, voice thick and red rimmed eyes heavy with more tears. “I thought that using my powers as a god had been too much for you and I thought you were dead.” He repeated, shuddering.
* * *