Circa 805 AD, England
The Greek ways had long been assimilated into those usurper Romans, and then forgotten. This new "Holy Roman Empire" was nothing like what Erebos had seen at the time of Creation, or in the Golden Age in Greece
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She would gladly suffer an eternity in Tartarus to protect him from pain, and yet her very nature was cutting him to his core. And she hated herself for that, hated herself for her weakness and lightness.
"I am sorry," she whispered, and felt the weight of herself in a way she hadn't known before.
Her eyes were wet, and she felt it, and she hated that too; it was not for her to cry, it was not for her to show her suffering to him. She wanted to look away from him, so that he wouldn't see, so that she could at least give him that.
"I have no right to have come," she said, gathering herself, not allowing the tears glazing her midnight eyes to fall. She would not allow herself that weakness. "I came to offer... I don't know, Ere. Because I respect you. Because I love you, and you are my dearest, oldest, most beloved friend and confidant, and because you are my husband."
She closed her eyes, and said almost too quietly to hear, "I've come because I don't want to lose you." And silently, to herself,
and because I fear that I already have in some way that can't be found again.
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"You could never lose me," he said. It was simple truth, not meant for comfort. That was part of the problem, he believed. If his presence were not required for her, she would have already left him a long time ago, or she would not have chosen other lovers. As it stood, however, there was no separating them.
The hand that smoothed over her hair, however, was meant for comfort. Nyxie didn't cry. It wasn't Nyx-like. He believed now that she didn't wish to hurt him. But she knew what she was doing could do nothing other than hurt him, and she chose it anyway. Perhaps it was a need, but it was damned destructive.
He shook his head once, and murmured almost too softly to be heard, "You will always be my wife. I will always be your husband. When you are done with the others, I will always be there for you to come back to. I am not inconstant, Nyx, and you know that this is the case." Otherwise, you'd not try me so.
"Do not weep, and do not apologize for who you are. If you say that this is what you need, then I will believe you." He didn't have to like it. He didn't have to understand it. But he had to accept it. Bitter as it was.
It turned his stomach to acid.
"Did you come because you noticed her here? Or was it incidental that she arrived shortly before you?"
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He did not hate her. She would not lose him. She would still be his. And perhaps he didn't understand, but he at least hadn't written her off as a faithless wretch.
Unconsciously, her thumb softly stroked the fabric of his shirt.
"I did not know she was here, Ere. I only came to visit you and bring you the cigarettes," and because I've missed you, she added silently.
She knew she should add something about him being able to take lovers; that he had every right, and that she had no place to tell him no. But though she could not stand against such a thing, neither could she encourage it.
She tried to be better than this, but when it came to him, she was still accursedly, irrationally selfish in some ways.
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Nyx would do what she'd always done. Erebos would... deal with it. It was the way of things.
He heard the girl in his bedroom stir. It had not seemed so long since Nyx came, but the night was nearly over. He looked over Nyx' head toward the curtains, then back down at Nyx. He would continue to hold her until she drew away. Until she was ready to pull away again. But afterwards, he would go see to his new charge.
"Where will you go?" he asked softly. Of course, the answer was always West, West, West, as Helion chased after Nyx. But he asked only to be polite.
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Carefully composing herself, she gracefully withdrew from his embrace, her physical guise once again completely poised and together.
"You're welcome, of course," she said softly.
She looked up at him and said, "Well, the otherside, of course," she said, referring to the strange lands to the west. "Though I may visit the Underworld for a bit."
She made no other indication of her weariness or need for retreat. After all, she could be going there to receive the Three, or spend some time with the children in general.
Casting her gaze at the window, she said, "It is time that I go." She turned back to him, and leaned up to kiss his cheek briefly, but softly.
"Be well, Ere."
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He kissed her.
It was not a gentle kiss. It was not a polite kiss. This one was filled with heat and that tamped-down longing and above all... deep-seated love. But for as hot as the kiss burned, it was also a short-lived one.
"Go," he said, releasing her.
He sensed rather than knew that he would not see her for a while.
Let it be, then.
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