[Greek Mythology] "Love on the Rocks" (PG)
Author's Note: Written for < lj user="comment_fic">'s Greek mythology, Ariadne/Dionysus, she didn't expect true love from a god
She heard the roaring of tigers and the braying of donkeys, drowning out the wash of the waves on the shore. The bracken rustled, as if these creatures approached. She drew back against the rocks, expecting something to lunge out at her, to leap from the rocks and pounce on her. Perhaps Thanatos had taken mercy on her and would send her a quick death: tigers broke the necks of their prey before devouring them. A pain that would be nothing to a girl who had had her heart broken.
The bushes parted and a shadow loomed up, a figure in dark garments, leaning on a staff. She gasped, drawing back. Had he come in this form to guide her into the Underworld with his own hand?
"Ariadne..." a mellow voice, warm, dark, like red wine pouring from a cool amphora.
"Lord of death, is it you?" she asked.
The figure chuckled, gently but amused, not mocking, but sensing some humor in the moment. He came closer, his dark cloak turning wine-colored as he emerged from the shadows, a tiger at his heels following him like a faithful cat, chuffing and nudging its head on the master's hip. The master reached down his free hand to caress the cat's broad, striped head. "No, not he, though he is a kinsman of mine," the interloper said, his dark eyes in his smooth, tanned face sparking with amusement. "And some of my followers find a pleasant death to their sorrows, in the pleasures that I offer."
She saw, then, the vine entwined around the staff he leaned on, the pine cone topping it. "Lord Dionysos," she said, bowing to him.
His shadow fell over her and he reached under her arms, lifting her, rising with her so that she stood on her feet. "No, do not bow to me: you've been brought low by men too much, lately," he said, looking into her eyes. "But I am here now and I can take you from this barren place of sorrows, if you wish."
"As long as you won't..." the words caught in her throat, from shame and anger at Theseus's faithlessness. So many bold promises he had given, after she had helped him through the winding halls of her father's labyrinth and he had paid her kindness by leaving her behind.
"I give you my word, and the words of Gods are far more binding than those of men," he said. And in that moment, while remaining the same height as before, he somehow grew taller; he reached up one arm into the night sky above and cupped eight stars in the palm of his hand. Bringing them down, he bound them together with a length of vine, like eight gems that shone in the darkness. Then he placed the crown on her brows, adjusting it carefully to fit her head.
"These stars will fade and burn out, like lamps without oil, before my love for you fades," he said. "And stars burn for centuries upon centuries."
She had no words to say, but there are times when words fall short of passion's expression. She flung her arms about his neck, kissing him full upon the mouth. He emitted a sound of delighted surprise in his throat, his hands going to her waist, pressing her close to him.
Deep in the bushes, a donkey brayed and satyrs emitted rough cheers of joy; pipes skirled and maenads trilled in celebration before coming forward, their wild eyes glowing with delight. Ariadne broke the kiss, pressing herself against her consort, surprised by his companions, but he drew them into their circle, into the wild nuptial dance breaking out in the scrub meadow beyond the rocky shore, lifting her in his arms, lifting her to the heavens...
She heard the roaring of tigers and the braying of donkeys, drowning out the wash of the waves on the shore. The bracken rustled, as if these creatures approached. She drew back against the rocks, expecting something to lunge out at her, to leap from the rocks and pounce on her. Perhaps Thanatos had taken mercy on her and would send her a quick death: tigers broke the necks of their prey before devouring them. A pain that would be nothing to a girl who had had her heart broken.
The bushes parted and a shadow loomed up, a figure in dark garments, leaning on a staff. She gasped, drawing back. Had he come in this form to guide her into the Underworld with his own hand?
"Ariadne..." a mellow voice, warm, dark, like red wine pouring from a cool amphora.
"Lord of death, is it you?" she asked.
The figure chuckled, gently but amused, not mocking, but sensing some humor in the moment. He came closer, his dark cloak turning wine-colored as he emerged from the shadows, a tiger at his heels following him like a faithful cat, chuffing and nudging its head on the master's hip. The master reached down his free hand to caress the cat's broad, striped head. "No, not he, though he is a kinsman of mine," the interloper said, his dark eyes in his smooth, tanned face sparking with amusement. "And some of my followers find a pleasant death to their sorrows, in the pleasures that I offer."
She saw, then, the vine entwined around the staff he leaned on, the pine cone topping it. "Lord Dionysos," she said, bowing to him.
His shadow fell over her and he reached under her arms, lifting her, rising with her so that she stood on her feet. "No, do not bow to me: you've been brought low by men too much, lately," he said, looking into her eyes. "But I am here now and I can take you from this barren place of sorrows, if you wish."
"As long as you won't..." the words caught in her throat, from shame and anger at Theseus's faithlessness. So many bold promises he had given, after she had helped him through the winding halls of her father's labyrinth and he had paid her kindness by leaving her behind.
"I give you my word, and the words of Gods are far more binding than those of men," he said. And in that moment, while remaining the same height as before, he somehow grew taller; he reached up one arm into the night sky above and cupped eight stars in the palm of his hand. Bringing them down, he bound them together with a length of vine, like eight gems that shone in the darkness. Then he placed the crown on her brows, adjusting it carefully to fit her head.
"These stars will fade and burn out, like lamps without oil, before my love for you fades," he said. "And stars burn for centuries upon centuries."
She had no words to say, but there are times when words fall short of passion's expression. She flung her arms about his neck, kissing him full upon the mouth. He emitted a sound of delighted surprise in his throat, his hands going to her waist, pressing her close to him.
Deep in the bushes, a donkey brayed and satyrs emitted rough cheers of joy; pipes skirled and maenads trilled in celebration before coming forward, their wild eyes glowing with delight. Ariadne broke the kiss, pressing herself against her consort, surprised by his companions, but he drew them into their circle, into the wild nuptial dance breaking out in the scrub meadow beyond the rocky shore, lifting her in his arms, lifting her to the heavens...