16. OLYMPIUS

OLYMPIUS

The Past

O LYMPIUS craned his neck toward Coriolanus and furrowed his brows again as a look of sheer discomfort appeared upon his pale face. “Why you?! What nonsense! My love, come away with me now and—”

“No!” Coriolanus roared. “Tell me! Why did you pick me to be the first? You have given your blood to no other, and I was undoubtedly chosen among hundreds of strong, handsome, muscular men to be your companion. Why me? Was I made only to forge and General an army for you because you do not know how to wage war? Am I to lead mortal men against your enemies because you have no allies? I have seen no other gods, Olympius. Have they rejected you? Was I your next best alternative? Why me?”

“Beloved, I—”

But Coriolanus spoke over his Maker, drowning out any chance for Olympius to speak, for the warrior-god was hot, and he still had more to say.

“I saw you in my mother’s thoughts, Olympius. You have been visiting her for years, granting a request now and again. Just how long have you known about me? How long have you been watching me, manipulating my life?”

Olympius turned completely towards Coriolanus and lowered his head. He was unaccustomed to expressing his raw emotions or being honest about his past. Though he often show his love for Coriolanus through physical intimacy and heartfelt expressions of affection, he had shared only small fragments of his personal story.

“I first laid eyes upon you, beloved, the first time I visited Veturia, a god appearing before their mortal worshipper. When I eventually departed, soaring above your family’s domus, I saw such a sight through a high window on my way to the night sky!

“It was you, a young man, naked except for a loincloth, alone, practicing with sword and shield. Illuminated by the few torches around your room, you, Coriolanus, were the most beautiful mortal I had ever seen. Eyes that pierced the darkness as they sparkled, reflecting the light of the flames. An exquisite musculature with bronze skin that glistened with sweat as you moved with a perfect balance of grace and ferocity. I took in your musk, and oh, even now, I can recall the scent of your budding strength, that erotic potency.

“I felt a fire from within, something I had never before experienced, an emotion I never believed was real, or at least one that would ever be for me. I could not describe or name it then; I struggle to now. It was desire, lust, amazement, longing, and something unknown to me—love. It was true love at first sight. The goddess Fortuna calls this rare thing soulmates .

“Can one believe in such a fanciful thing? A connection that deep upon first sight? I had not believed in it—until I found you. You are what I never understood was missing from my mortal and immortal lives. I feel complete with you at my side. I feel whole.

“I knew, then, at that moment, as I still believe now, that something greater than the gods, the Celestial Realm, itself, if you wish, made you and me for each other. We are two beings carved from one Celestial soul. Though I must sound foolish, I could go on speaking the poetry of your magnificence, of our bond, forever.

“What else can I say to make you understand? I have never manipulated you or forced your destiny. I could have easily saved you from Aufidius, your mother, and Rome’s betrayal, but your mortal life was always yours to shape.

“I cannot see the future, beloved, but Fortuna walks the path of The Fates, gifted with foresight. She appeared to me that night I first saw you, revealing that you and I would be together one day, but she warned me not to interfere with the Wheel of Destiny. Yes, she saw my desire to have you immediately. Fortuna has never lied to me or led me astray. So, as much as it tormented me to be away from you, I waited.

“When you wed, I knew it was not for love but a strategic move orchestrated by your mother. It was just another of her schemes to secure higher social status and political power. I wanted nothing more than to rescue you from her manipulative grasp, but I did not intervene, though my heart was deeply pained.”

Coriolanus placed his hand over his heart as if to swear an oath of truth.

“Please believe me, Olympius, when I say that the woman in question was never of any significance to me. I had no true feelings for her, nor do I now harbour any thoughts of her. Our relationship was purely a matter of political convenience. The sons she bore are not of my blood.

“And though I did have a desire, perhaps even true affection for Aufidius, which I suspect also caused you pain, whatever I felt then pales beside what I feel for you now. Mortal passion does not compare! Know this!”

“I do, and I did know all that then, beloved, as I said, but logic does not always lessen suffering. But the joy I felt when the night finally came to make you a god— my god . But never think I own you. You are free; you have autonomy, as I stated upon your Becoming. I did not wish for your death at the hands of those beastly scum. I regret our first meeting was under such disagreeable circumstances.

“In the end, I could change nothing. You are my beloved, my heart, made into a god at the time of The Fates’ choosing, but you are perfect, neither too young nor too old. And no mortal or god shall ever come between us, no matter their beauty or power. What else is there to say?”

His immortal heart glutted with happiness, Coriolanus could not help but smile. When his confusion and rage dissipated soon after his Becoming, and he finally looked into the face of his saviour with clarity, he had felt the same way: an absolute, inexplicable connection. But the young god still needed to know one more thing, so there was no question left unanswered in his mind.

“So I am not just a tool to be— disposed of when I no longer serve a useful purpose in your revenge against Rome?”

The look of shock and horror on Olympius’ face regarding his last question was all the proof Coriolanus needed to know how his Maker felt about him and his place in his world.

“How could you ever think such a thing even possible knowing what we share, our connection?! Coriolanus, have you ever seen such duplicitousness in my thoughts when we unite our souls? I would sooner behead myself than harm you, my immortal beloved. And I shall tear apart anyone, man or god, should they seek to injure you or come between us. Believe that. We fight and love together as one, always.

“And yes, I am the darkness, Lord of the Night, the god of rage and vengeance. Some have even called me the god of hate. And though I will forever be attached to my deification, I know love. I even understand compassion, though I do not always agree with the timing of someone’s actioning of it. ”

Both gods let out a joyful laugh at that last statement. Olympius had attempted humour, which was something he rarely did.

“I am sorry, my love, for allowing doubt to infect my senses. Can you forgive me?” Coriolanus felt ashamed to have allowed himself to fall victim to suspicions like a mortal. His worries over the past year were all for naught, for Olympius truly loved him.

“There is nothing to forgive. I love you unconditionally. You are a singular entity, Coriolanus, as much as we are a united pair. I only seek to understand your uniqueness, your complexity, though I may often appear humourless in the attempt.”

The shame vanished, and Coriolanus felt an indescribable joy. He planned to show his Maker how much he adored him, knowing the older god would reciprocate in kind.

With a single-minded, erotic purpose, Coriolanus advanced toward Olympius, employing the quickness he had inherited from him, and took hold of his Maker in a grand embrace. Tapping into the invisible forces and natural elements of Tellus-Mater, or Gaia , to Olympius, Coriolanus concentrated as his Maker taught him and willed himself off the ground into the air, towards the night sky and high above the Volscian lands.

Only once had Coriolanus asked Olympius why he used the Greek names for things, as a Roman father had raised him. His Maker only said that the gods were far older than Roman nomenclature.

Driven by the zeal of the love-struck, Coriolanus stripped his lover of all clothing with speed equating his desire, allowing the fine garments to fall to the earth one piece after another. Then, with a mischievous grin and a nod to himself, he got the message across to Olympius to do the same to him.

When both of them were completely naked, they entwined their godly limbs. As hands roamed sensuously over immortal bodies with abandon, the lustful gods groped and clutched at hard muscle and unblemished flesh. Enchanted blood flowed to all their erogenous zones, greatly heightening the sensations of touch and response for each god.

Cocks hardened, and as Olympius’ form was smaller than Coriolanus’ towering build, his swollen shaft poked and rubbed against the warrior-god’s taught furry stomach, the coarse hairs sending shivers throughout his pale body. The fibres both tickled and caused arousal.

Coriolanus’ shaft throbbed between Olympius’ slim yet powerful thighs.

The Roman colouring of Coriolanus’ skin was still apparent, as he had not spent nearly enough time apart from the sun to begin losing pigment. Hence, a flush of pink appeared, caused by the rush of blood and excitement.

Olympius could see the radiant expressiveness of his lover’s bright copper eyes in the moonlight, so penetrating, drawing him in. His body pulsed with energy, his flesh near-glowing in the darkness of the night. His hunger was insatiable.

Without wasting another second, inherently knowing each of them had willed their unbreakable skin to become temporarily penetrable, Olympius released his fangs and sank them deep into the warrior-god’s neck, sending shock after shock of sensations through both their bodies. It was unlike anything a mortal could hope to experience.

The intimacy between gods went beyond the pleasure derived from mortal sex, more profound than any orgasm the human body could generate. But for two gods whose souls were connected, the bliss was transcendent.

As his Maker greedily sucked the godly ichor out of him, Coriolanus felt a part of his spirit leave and enter Olympius, merging with his lover’s immaterial essence; this happened whenever they shared blood, but never with a mortal, no matter how much scarlet liquid they consumed. The gods knew from this that they were indeed two souls broken off from one, finally reconnected.

Unfortunately, as soon as either god retracted their fangs, the soul portion returned to its original host. Being together as individuals was wonderful, but nothing connected them more or felt as incredible as when they fed off each other and became one.

Coriolanus, incapable of holding out any longer, his eyes rolled back into his head from unbridled euphoria, extended his fangs and bit down hard upon Olympius’ shoulder, taking in a rush of red ecstasy to satisfy his craving for communion. This shared act of blood drinking was no prosaic feeding; this was lovemaking.

The two gods remained bound together in passion for some time, sharing memories, knowledge, and emotions, the enchanted blood moving back and forth between their immortal bodies as both sucked and drank. And though he did not like that Olympius had closed-off places within his mind, Coriolanus respected his Maker’s privacy, even though he was entirely open to his lover.

Eventually, the pleasure and pain of their godly intercourse became too overwhelming, threatening to place them both into a state of torpor which could send them falling out of the sky.

And there was still the business of war happening far below them.

To gods, engaging in pleasure while humans died fighting their vendettas was not something they felt one way or another about. Mortal lives were but the flicker of a candle: gods were of the Eternal Flame.

Coriolanus, however, was an exception. He had not been a god long enough not to feel responsible for the death toll, and he was genuinely concerned for his men. Knowing innocents were always caught in the crossfires of war did not make it easier to stomach. He was a military General and invariably practical in the face of war, but he was not an unfeeling bastard.

Each god sensed their partner’s fangs withdraw but with such swiftness that neither felt or heard anything as the tiny sabres exited the flesh. Immediately, they both willed themselves to be once more invulnerable. As they gazed into each other’s eyes, orbs that glowed in the night sky’s darkness, the gods engaged in a passionate kiss that would inspire envy in the deities of love and lust.

Reluctantly, the two naked immortals left the sky, though still intertwined, dropping in a haze of bliss back down to earth .

Right before setting foot on the ground, Coriolanus released his love from their embrace so Olympius could resume his lofty stance above the grass and soil.

“I no longer have anything to prove here, Olympius,” the warrior-god confidently stated. “I’ll recall our forces, for Antium’s defences, its warriors, have proven no match for them. The great Volscian city is defeated, burning. I am satisfied. And the survivors will spread the word of our might. Let’s soon be off to set up camp far from here.”

“As you wish, beloved. I will return to the night sky and search the lands to the east for a hospitable site for our next encampment. I shall return soon.”

With that, Olympius recovered his clothing and took to the sky so quickly as to become invisible, even to Coriolanus’ godly vision.