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Chapter XVIII: Dionysus
CHAPTER XVIII
DIONYSUS
Dionysus was surprised to find Ariadne awake and sitting in his living room. He expected her to avoid him, though perhaps things had only changed between them from his perspective.
He could not look at her the same way anymore. Before, she had only mildly annoyed him, and while that was, in part, due to his attraction to her, nothing compared to how he felt now. She was fire beneath his skin, and all he thought about was how he felt when she kissed him.
It did not help that she looked so at ease in his home, like she belonged right there, at the center of his life. She sat on the couch with a book in her lap wearing his shirt, her long, bare legs crossed in front of her.
She had even made coffee.
She looked up as he came into the room.
“How did you sleep?” he asked.
“Fine,” she said. “You?”
“Fine.”
He wasn’t sure why he sounded so passive-aggressive. Maybe it was because he was lying. Silence followed his reply, and for a moment, all he could do was stare at her.
“Where are you going?” she asked.
Dionysus hesitated. He had not expected her to ask.
“I have a meeting,” he said. “You can stay here if you prefer, or I can take you back to Bakkheia.”
He should not give her the choice to stay, but selfishly, he liked the idea of coming home to her. It was ridiculous, given he rarely stayed here, but it wasn’t as if he’d had a reason to be here before.
Ariadne seemed just as surprised by his offer. “I…I think I’d like to stay here.”
Dionysus swallowed, frustrated by the relief he felt at her choice.
“The maenads will guard the house,” he said.
Ariadne’s eyes hardened. “Is that a warning?”
“It’s only a warning if you are planning your escape.”
Her mouth tightened. “Have you thought any more about your plan to rescue Medusa from Poseidon?”
The reality was that he had thought about it, and his meeting was actually with the god himself, but he did not want to tell Ariadne that because he did not wish for her to accompany him. The fewer women he could put in Poseidon’s path, the better.
“I’m working on it,” he said with far more frustration than he intended.
“You’re moving too slow,” she said.
“Can you just trust me once?” Dionysus snapped. He should have stopped talking then, but he couldn’t help himself. He continued. “You’re used to shoving your way into situations that don’t concern you because you think you have authority, but you have none here. The sooner you realize that, the better.”
She slammed her book closed. “You wonder why I don’t trust you.”
“I don’t wonder,” he said. “I know.”
She shook her head. “You don’t respect me. You don’t value anything I have to offer.”
That was not true, but he dared not say that aloud.
“I could say the same about you,” Dionysus said.
She set the book aside and stood. The hem of her shirt barely grazed the tops of her thighs. Whatever anger he felt for her, it also spurred his desire. He clenched his fists.
“Take me to Bakkheia then,” she said.
“What difference does it make where you stay?” Dionysus said. “It is not as if you will escape me.”
“You’re the one who offered the option,” she said. “So let me choose.”
“You already have,” he said, though he was distracted, noticing how the soft material of her shirt clung to her breasts, molding around her hard nipples. When Ariadne noticed, she crossed her arms over her chest.
Dionysus looked away, clearing his throat. He needed to go.
“I’ll have the maenads bring you some clothes,” he said, vanishing before making an even greater fool of himself.
Dionysus stood beside Silenus at the edge of a pier that extended far into the waters of the Gulf of Poseidon. Behind them, New Greece was shrouded in mist and heavy clouds, but the snowstorm did not seem to have touched this part of Poseidon’s realm.
They had been waiting for an hour with no sign of the God of the Sea. Given their history, Dionysus would not be surprised if he did not show at all.
“It is not as if anyone remembers that war,” said Silenus.
“I remember,” said Dionysus.
The war Silenus was referring to was a battle Dionysus had waged against Poseidon long ago over a nymph named Beroe, who they had both fallen in love with. Each had appealed to Aphrodite for her love, but the goddess was not swayed by their gifts and instead ordered them to fight, so they did. Dionysus lost quickly. It was one of the most embarrassing and shameful moments of his life and another reason he did not want Ariadne involved where the God of the Sea was concerned.
He did not trust Poseidon and believed that if he laid eyes on her, he would pursue her. Dionysus feared what he might do if that happened. It did not matter that he did not love her. She meant something, even if he could not figure out exactly what.
“So how’s the girl?” Silenus asked.
Dionysus ground his teeth. “She’s a woman, Silenus. And she’s fine.”
He could feel his foster father’s gaze.
“So you haven’t fucked her yet?”
“For fuck’s sake, Dad,” Dionysus said. “Shut up.”
“Can’t a father be concerned for his son’s well-being?”
“No,” Dionysus snapped. It was not even that he had been celibate, but since he’d met Ariadne, his desire for other women had ceased.
“Fine,” Silenus said. “Fine. I just think it would improve your mood.”
Dionysus’s stomach twisted. Hadn’t he told Ariadne something similar in the pleasure district? Gods, he hated that he sounded like his foster father.
“One more word,” Dionysus warned, “and I will push you into the ocean.”
Thankfully, the satyr listened, and the sound of the sea filled the silence between them, though Dionysus was not certain he liked it any better because it left him with his thoughts, which only centered around Ariadne.
He was fucking hopeless.
“Looks like Poseidon decided to come after all,” said Silenus.
Dionysus looked up to see a white yacht sailing toward them, and his heart raced. It was packed with people, and they were mostly nude, though some wore swimsuits. Music blared as they danced on every available surface. At one time, it was an environment Dionysus would have thrived within—created, even—but that was long ago, and now it only filled him with a sense of dread. It was easy to recall how the madness had felt in these moments, when the liquor was strong and the music pulsing.
It took him a few moments to shake the feeling, but by the time the yacht came to port, he had managed to gain control.
Poseidon’s staff extended a ramp from the ship to the pier, and Silenus was all too eager to board.
Dionysus placed a hand on his foster father’s shoulder. “No drinking,” he warned. “We are not here for your pleasure.”
“I know, I know,” the satyr said, shaking him off and ascending the plank.
They boarded, and it was like stepping into a massive orgy. Some passengers danced, but most were engaging in varied sexual acts.
“This way,” said one of the attendants who had lowered the ramp. He turned and cut through the crowd.
Dionysus followed and dragged his foster father along, not releasing him until they entered the interior part of the yacht. It was just as crowded, but at least his fuckery would be contained.
Inside, the music was muted, the environment far more calm. People lounged about in various positions across the floor and furniture, save for a large circular couch, which was where Poseidon waited. He sat with his arms stretched out across the back.
Unlike other gods who often concealed their true forms, Poseidon rarely wore glamour. Because of this, he seemed to glow, his aura gilded and brilliant. He wore gold cuffs and a gold crown that sat at the base of his striking spiral horns. If Dionysus didn’t know better, he would assume Poseidon was just more comfortable in his god form, but the reality was that it made him feel bigger and far more powerful than everyone else in the room.
“Dionysus,” Poseidon said, eyes glittering, as if he were already amused by his presence. “Come, sit. Have a nap.”
Dionysus ignored him and jumped straight to business. “I’ve been informed that you may know the whereabouts of a woman I’m searching for,” he said.
Poseidon tilted his head to the side, eyes narrowing slightly. “You used to be so fun. What happened?”
“You know what happened,” Dionysus said.
Poseidon studied him for a moment and then took a breath. “You know what makes men weak, Dionysus?”
Dionysus waited for the god to continue, though he knew he would not like his words.
“Women,” Poseidon said, holding up a hand before Dionysus could speak. “Hear me out. Hera has stolen your peace, changed you into this…sullen man. She has made you weak.”
Dionysus’s fingers curled into fists, his anger roaring to life.
“I’m not interested in your opinions, Poseidon. I’ve only come to ask if you know a woman by the name of Medusa. She was apparently last seen on your shores, and now she is missing.”
“How should I know? So many women come and go,” Poseidon said airily.
“A woman is missing. She might be in trouble or worse, and that is all you have to say?” Though he was not surprised, Dionysus was still disgusted.
“I cannot imagine why you care so much about this one woman. Have you not rescued thousands on your little mission to end trafficking? By the way, how is that going?” Poseidon paused, his brows lowering. “Do you ever tell them about your past? When you would strike women with such madness they would fall on your dick blindly?”
“You know nothing of what you speak,” Dionysus said, his body vibrating with anger.
“Well, perhaps we remember the past differently.”
“This was a mistake,” he said.
He should have listened to his gut and not tried to please Ariadne.
“The girl staying at your house,” Poseidon said. “Has she fallen on your dick too?”
Dionysus froze.
He wasn’t sure why everyone seemed so obsessed with his dick.
“Since when do you care who I fuck?”
“I suppose it’s been a while,” Poseidon mused. “As it is, I do not care, but my son cares who she fucks.”
“She does not belong to your son.”
“I think we both know that isn’t true.”
“What are you saying, Poseidon?”
“I’m saying I do not think you wish to go to war over a woman again. It did not end well for you last time.”
Last time, Dionysus had had Zeus’s help, and given Poseidon’s support of Theseus, he did not think the God of the Sky would be so willing to intervene this time.
“I did not come here to discuss Ariadne,” said Dionysus.
“Right. You came to see what I knew about Medusa,” Poseidon said. “I fucked her and left her. I don’t know what happened after. Perhaps she begged Hades to die. Pity, though. If I had known the value of her beautiful head, I’d have cut it off where she lay.”
Dionysus glared, his nails biting into his palms.
Poseidon leaned forward, his elbows on his knees, hands clasped. “Tell me you knew. They say she can turn men to stone, but only after her head is separated from her body.” He paused and offered a horrible smirk. “Just like a woman, isn’t it?” he continued. “To be useful only after she’s dead.”
