Chapter Six

In Which a Meal is Consumed in a Fashion Most Unfamiliar

Rolling my eyes, I did as he bade me. The chairs were larger than I'd realized and even still; he filled it completely. Confronted with our size difference, for the first time, perhaps ever, I was intimidated by Orcus. I'd been afraid of him, certainly, but I'd never fathomed that he posed me any true danger. As much as I wanted to atone for my wrongs, I wasn't exactly looking forward to it. What use would be punishment if it were pleasurable?

With a hop, I settled into his lap, trying to appear obedient. Beneath me, his lap was strong and broad; he felt stable and sure, in a way that I don't know if I had ever felt before. I was a goddess. I was not born into a loving family the way most children are. I burst into existence from my mother's mind, based on an idea fully formed in that second. Beyond that, she'd shown mild interest in me, but it was almost academic. My mother had created me to see if it would work, not out of want of companionship—certainly not someone to care for. So Orcus's stability was the first time I'd ever experienced such a thing.

Instead, sitting on Orcus's lap was the first time I've ever truly felt that I could place my weight upon someone else and they would hold it. It was nothing short of a revelation. The feeling of relief was so intense that I shook my head to remind myself where I was. Because I was not there to feel relieved, I was there to pay the cost of what I had done, for doing to my people what my mother had done to me, and to try to learn to do better.

I didn't have long to wait to discover what Orcus meant for me. Reaching across my body, he picked up a morsel of food and placed it to my lips.

"I am capable of feeding myself, you know," I said.

Despite my protests, he didn't move the spoon away from my mouth. "That remains to be seen."

I opened my mouth to receive the food, though what I really wanted was to say something in rebuttal. It was vibrant and citrusy, as if this flavor had been specially crafted for me. To soothe me, or, I considered, to lull me into complacency and obedience. With that in mind, I straightened my shoulders as I chewed. He was so close to me, I could feel his breath skating over my neck. As soon as I was done chewing, another bit of food was presented to me. He continued feeding me for several minutes, until I finally waved my hand in front of my face, pleading for him to stop.

"All done?"

"Yes, I don't think my stomach is ready for large portions." I gasped out. "This—is not like what I expected."

"I imagine not." He set the remaining food down and picked up a napkin. To my shock, he raised it to my lips and gently patted them.

"That is as it should be. I've found that what we expect, or assume we deserve, is rarely what we actually deserve."

"And what do I deserve, then?" I asked. I needed his answer, but I was terrified to know. After all, I couldn't forget that this was my punishment.

"Growth."

"Growth?" I echoed. I hadn't any idea what that might entail, but I hoped he'd tell me. As afraid of what was coming as I knew I should be, he'd already convinced me. The firmness of him underneath me, the gentle way he'd fed me, all of it had added up to make me more pliant than I would have liked. I wanted this punishment; I needed to pay for my wrongs, and so, perhaps, I wanted to be vulnerable to him.

"Yes, growth. You didn't mean harm when you created the world, and yet you did harm. I understand your impulse to remove yourself from the situation, but I think instead you must endeavor to make it right. The way I see it, there are several steps that will require. First, you don't seem to think much of yourself anymore."

I scoffed at him. "Could you blame me? I don't see how I could have possibly harmed people more than creating them to live and die at my whims, then making them inherently evil and removing their choice in the matter."

"Exactly." He reached over and tucked a long strand of my brown hair behind my ear. "I understand your dislike of yourself, but you must learn to see how the situation you were put in made you who you are. You had too much power, without any idea of how you should use it, though you could wield it with a thought.

"Further, I think you should learn to experience things as mortals do." He paused, inhaling deeply. "I believe it was those experiences where I felt most mortal, most vulnerable, that taught me my most valuable lessons about ruling my own people."

"And how, pray tell, am I to do that? What did you experience that helped?"

"I fell in love."

I gasped, unable to contain my surprise, and I was certain my face was written with it. "Love? But who could we fall in love with? A mortal?" The very idea seemed preposterous. They lived such short lives, and as much as I loved them, I knew I loved them in the way that a mother loves her children. The very idea of loving one of my people was ridiculous. "How can you fall in love with someone who isn't your equal?"

"You can't." His eyes bored into mine and somehow, in that moment, I knew. He hadn't fallen in love with one of his subjects, an orc or an elf. No, he'd fallen in love with another deity. The question remained if it was someone from our own planet or elsewhere.

I'd positioned Timonde far from any of the other worlds, fleeing their influence as I'd seen what the other gods had become. I didn't want that for my world or myself.

"Who?" It mattered to me more than I liked. But he'd been mine, after all, for so long. My enemy, yes, but I'd decidedly been the most important person in his life, just as he had been in mine. To find out that there might have been someone who surpassed my importance to him was a felling blow.

He waved his hand. "It's of little consequence. My love was not returned, but it taught me what exquisite torture loving someone could be. It opened me up to the multitude of pleasures and pains one could know. My plan, such as it was, is to give you a mortal experience. You'll require everything they do: food, water, sleep, as here you truly inhabit a human body. You retain your immortality, but only if you properly care for yourself. Part of my job is to see that you do."

"Just because I haven't been mortal doesn't mean I don't know how to take care of a human body." I rolled my eyes and moved to stand.

"Ah, but you failed to do so, and so I must assume the task. Now, I fear some of my methods may be quite different from what you were expecting. So, I have an agreement. As I swore that I truly have your best interests in heart, you must trust that I'll do everything in my power to ensure the best outcome for all of us. I ask that you remain open to my methods."

His voice lingered on the word method, caressing it with his tongue, drawing my attention to his lips and the sharp teeth they hid. This Orcus was no formless phantasm haunting my nightmares, but an imposing figure that would surely dominate my days.

"I—I can do that." I whispered.

"If you disagree with anything I do, and in certain cases, if what we do makes you feel uncomfortable in any way, it's important that you tell me."

I nodded, somehow relieved that he hadn't made me agree to never be uncomfortable. I didn't see how I was meant to learn without being uncomfortable.

"Now that we've gotten some food into you, your first assignment should be simple. Unless I'm mistaken, you, princess, only have a title. You are more than a goddess, you are less than a figurehead. You need a name."