Chapter Text
Winds often carried many things, storms, ships, and often a change in the weather. Rarely, but once in a while, did it bring in sorrow. Only to wives, sons, and daughters, mothers and fathers did winds carry misfortune, only to those who sent their entire souls overseas, as they searched for glory and fame far from their homes, lest their names be forgotten to time.
Unfortunately, Ariadne had a knack for attracting the odd and unwanted. The misfits, if you would. She did not think to classify Theseus as a misfit, but nonetheless, she lured him in like a siren lures a sailor. She had no one to mourn in a faraway land, no reason to weep, but as she sat on the shifting sands of some unknown island, and stared out into the endless blue sea, the winds tousling her long dark hair gently, she wept as she longingly searched the horizon for a ship she knew in her heart was long gone. She could often find beauty in the unfortunate, the oddities of the world, but as she sobbed, she found it difficult to find much beauty in anything at all. Of all her misfortunes, this, being left like some old scrap of cloth, was the final straw.
Long before her long-awaited and desired love freed her from her caged life in her home on the isle of Crete, with her angry father and cursed brother. With her long-gone mother and her mourning sister, Ariadne felt trapped, caged as her brother Asterion in his prison.
Despite Asterion being such a beastly creature, she loved him as one might a brother, or even a son, no matter the unconventional circumstances. Seeing as her father, King Minos, had her mother, Pasiphae, chased away for her infidelity, despite her godly origin, it fell upon her to raise Asterion, and she did so wholeheartedly. It wasn’t until Daedalus finished the labyrinth that her brother was cast away, into the darkness and isolation of the twisting maze.
Then, years later, after Ariadne had already mourned her brother’s fate, came the mighty Theseus, who soared in with his dark hair and intense eyes, and his flashy smile, and promised her happiness, even marriage! But only as soon as he slew the minotaur. Who was Ariadne to argue against such a dashing prince, even one whom her father approved of? Above all, it seemed only fitting that Theseus would be the one to kill the minotaur, a son of Poseidon, a genius from Athens, ridding the world of a curse set in place by the Lord of the Sea himself.
Of course, she helped him, she thought bitterly as she glared out at the sea. How could she not? With his strong jaw and flawless-
She was getting distracted. No matter what Theseus was thinking, he would be back for her, right? It was hardly important that he left in the dead of night, without bothering to leave a single scrap of food or water behind. He loved her! He promised her marriage! He swore it to the gods above, saved her from her vengeful father, and everything!
Ariadne’s lip quivered as her breath quickened. The least he could’ve done was write a note in the sand, but no, he packed his things and ran off. What good was a man’s promise if not even a prince could uphold his word?
She didn't understand why he had just left, was he not in love? Was she not to be his queen? He had promised her the world, and for one fleeting moment, she had let herself feel hope. How foolish she had been.
She let her hands fall from her face and clutched at the soft plies of sand beneath her. She let out a guttural scream and threw the sand against the crashing waves, more out of anger and frustration than sorrow. Her tantrum did nothing to ease her anger, but it was easy enough to pretend that what she really was doing, was throwing sand at Theseus.
At least the isle he left her to die alone on was beautiful, with its long white beach and dark green forest. Even the noises of the brightly coloured birds were beautiful, with their song of an upbeat chirping harmony, the opposite of Ariadne’s sour mood.
She should've known something like this would happen; it was too good to be true. Besides, Theseus was often absent during Ariadne's attempts at affection, but never had he shown any discontent with their arrangement. When he grew distant, she would often console herself with the fact that her love was busy with his duties. What those duties entailed, she had no idea, but as both the prince of such a plentiful land as Athens, and a demigod son of Poseidon himself, she was sure that he had more duties than the average man, and especially more than a mere princess of Crete. She had always excused his behavior; he was giving her the world, no?
Ariadne felt a swell of tears behind her eyes once more, and she let herself sob as the grains of sand beneath her grated against her skin where she sat. It clung to her, making her sob even harder. She had finally escaped her life in Crete, but now she felt just as trapped as Asterion. As much as she didn’t want to die, especially didn’t want to die surrounded by nothing but sand and sea, with only birds to keep her company as she starved in solitude or frize to death.
After a few moments of Ariadne just listening to the waves crash against the shore, while sobbing silently into her hands, the world seemed to come to a sudden halt. The birds were silent, the winds slowed to a stop, and the waves crashing against the shore receded; the only noise was her own breath and the steady pumping of her heart. If this were some sick joke being played by the gods, then-
Before she could finish her next thought, a soft shuffling of the sand grabbed her attention; it almost sounded like very cautious footsteps.
Could it be? Was Theseus back?
She whipped her head around, frantically searching for him, but instead of Theseus , she found something else.
Just behind her, where the sand turned to grass and trees, a young man who appeared to be just about Ariadne’s age was standing there. Looking at her with deep concern.
The man was dressed in a simple green tunic, and despite the warm air, he had a deep brown himation draped over his shoulders. He was carrying a pinecone-topped thyrsus, but his feet were bare, despite his evident hike through the forest.
His face was round and almost feminine, with his soft features and full lips. He had shoulder-length, dark hair, and his skin was a lovely, rich, dark caramel colour. His eyes were mesmerizing to Ariadne; she had never seen the likes of them before. They were a stunning, rich purple, so dark that they almost blended in with his pupils. She almost wished to just stare and lose herself in them, but she felt as though that would be rude.
He was gorgeous, and definitely not Theseus. His gentle features were certainly a nice contrast to Theseus’ sharp, masculine features, though, or at least Ariadne thought so.
There was something entrancing about him, whether it was his odd clothes, the way he appeared suddenly, or the way everything alive, including herself, seemed to lean towards him. Like they were planets in the odd man's orbit. She couldn't wait to figure it out, like a puzzle just waiting for her to solve, or a maze just for her to navigate.
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Dionysos was bored. Here he was, in all in his glory, and he was bored. His entourage of sayters were weary, and so he left them to go explore and find merriment by himself. Everyone else was busy fawning over that new hero, Theseus. He didn’t get the excitement, and it wasn't because he was jealous. He literally didn't get it. The boy was just another son of Poseidon; there would be plenty more to come. Dionysos almost snorted into his wine at the thought. The boy wasn't even special; he was a moron, and if anything, had slightly better than average strength.
So he was alone. Not really, he had chosen to go off by himself, but he was starting to regret it just a little bit. He was just so bored!
Granted, he should've gone literally anywhere but Naxos, but he was feeling a bit nostalgic. He wanted to see the rolling hills which he burst forth from his mother. Or rather, he was burnt out of his mother. He didn't really want to think about it; it was honestly very confusing.
He jumped down from the tree he was resting in and began to walk around the island. But as he strolled through the thick forest and sandy beaches, he heard a loud sobbing noise.
When he chose to investigate further, he saw a simply gorgeous girl, with thick black hair and fair skin, sitting in a pile of sand and hysterically crying.
Women don’t usually sob like the world around them was ending, or at least that was what Dionysos thought, and he had plenty of experience with them to know, trust him. He especially didn’t expect this of such a pretty woman. But here he was, staring down on a girl who was hurling piles of sand into the sea like it personally wounded her.
Maybe it had. Who was he to judge? If you wanted someone who was judgmental, go talk to Pheme; she would gossip your ear off when given the chance. But regardless, even there, just being people, of any gender, on Naxos, happened to get Dionysos' attention. The island was fairly abandoned, save for the few nymphs that occasionally popped by. It was an excellent place to get lost, if that's what you needed, but he doubted that’s what the girl was there for.
He startled when the girl screamed. That sounded more like a battle cry, than someone crying of, oh, he didn’t know, sadness? It was an awful sound, and one that he did not think would ever come from such a woman's mouth. He should probably go check on her; no one acts like that unless they are in serious pain or crazy.
If she were, he could help with that, too, he supposed. They were all a little crazy.
He was about to walk up next to her, but considered the fact that he really didn’t want sand on his clothes, and changed his mind. No one in their right or wrong mind liked sandy clothes. Instead, he hung back and assessed the situation from the trees just behind her. (No, he was not hiding; he didn't hide.)
Her sobs slowed into soft hiccups as he watched, and she let her head fall back into her hands.
He needed to tone down his theatrical looks, a bright purple tunic, leopard skin cloak, and white, smiling prosopon would probably not bode well with an already distressed mortal. He took off his mask, but kept the thrysus. His father himself would have to pry that out of his cold, dead fingers.
He walked towards the girl, who was really a woman; she looked to be about in her early to late twenties. She had pearls in her dark hair, and she was wearing a very colorful dress. She was definitely someone of high class, so what on earth was she doing by herself, on a beach, with no way off the island?
He doubted she even knew what island she was on.
He tried to make a bit of noise as he approached. He didn’t want to scare her, but as he grew closer, the girl tensed and quickly looked back over her shoulder to where Dionysos was standing.
She stared at him for a while, her eyes darting around, as if looking for someone else.
After a while, it started to get awkward. He should probably say something. “Are you-” he awkwardly asked. That was new, he didn't get awkward.
“I didn’t-” She said at the same time.
The girl flushed red. “Sorry,” she said.
“No, keep going,” Dionysos said and motioned for her to continue. She didn’t recognise him. He didn’t know what to make of that just yet. He was fairly known, even outside of his cult.
“I didn’t realize someone lived here.” She said as she climbed to her feet and dusted herself off.
Dionysos decided not to mention her hair, which was messily laid about her shoulders and absolutely covered in sand. “I do not,” he said, "Merely a visitor.”
She raised an eyebrow. “I didn’t see a ship.’
His ship was currently in the possession of a very lazy sayter, but she didn't need to know that.
He smiled. She seemed fun. “Maybe I didn’t arrive by one.”
She laughed at this, although her green eyes were still clouded by tears, and her voice still thick with her sobs.
“So, sir, I am to believe that you flew here? I think not.” She laughed, and it was not a soft laugh he expected of a lady; instead, it was loud and boisterous.
“Perhaps I am no sir at all, but instead a woman?" He questioned; he did not mean it as a genuine thing, as of late, he was just jesting, and as he hoped, she took the opening.
“Then I would say you have very interesting choices in wardrobe, dear lady,” She teased. This was going wonderfully.
“My dear lady, you wound me,” Dionysos laughed.
“And if I said I was no lady?” The girl jested, her eyes sparkling.
“Then I would say, good sir, that you have two deformities, specifically surrounding your chest.”
The lady scoffed and turned her back to him, but before she turned, Dionysos saw the way her green eyes glistened with both amusement, but also with tears.
“I apologize, I meant no offence,” He said with a slight bow. He was confused; he thought they were getting on wonderfully. But then again, the most recent interaction he had with a woman was with one of his priestesses, and they were hardly normal.
She sniffed, her voice thick. “It is not you, sir, please put your mind at ease.” She said after a moment, then took a deep breath and continued. “My love has left me here, on this island unknown to me.”
This was surprising, to say the least. Of all things, he didn’t expect her to be abandoned. Maybe lost, or put here in exile.
“He doesn’t seem like a very good lover, if he is so flighty.”
“Oh no,” she turned back to face him with wide eyes, “We are to be married, he must come back, and I do believe that he will.”
“Hmm, I see,” Dionysos rolled his eyes. She was clearly delusional, if not a bit slow. The least he could do was give her shelter. “Then let me offer you sanctuary here on Naxos while you wait.”
He motioned with his thyrsus and began to walk into the forest, without bothering to see if the lady was following. If she had any common sense in her at all, she would.
“Might I ask you a few questions, dear stranger?” She called from a few paces behind. “I am following a stranger into a forest, and I know nothing of him.”
Fair enough. Dionysos would probably do the same if he were in her shoes.
“Yes, and I shall do my best to answer you wholeheartedly.” He assured her. It was about a fifteen-minute walk to the clearing he had in mind anyway; they might as well pass the time somehow.
“So what is your name?” She asked as she briskly walked in order to keep up with him.
Well, shit, he quite liked her not knowing what, or who, he was. It was a bit of a game, if not downright hilarious. But then again, she might not have heard of him. If that was the case, then no harm, no foul.
“My name is Dion,” he lied. He did love a good joke, and that seemed like a happy medium..
“How strange,” she said, “Forgive me, but I have never heard such a name before.”
“It is from the dialect of this island,” he lied once more. He wanted to smack himself with his thyrsus. That was stupid of him. The people of this island didn't even have a specific language of their own.
“Really.” She deadpanned. “Because this island is so rich in population.”
Well...he couldn't exactly say that it wasn't.
“Yes, yes,” he panicked and cleared his throat, “So, lady, you know my name, but I am still in the dark when it comes to you. Who are you? Why don’t you tell me your story?”
They were just about at the clearing, he had a tent set up there that he kept for visits, but he had no idea its condition. He hoped it was suited for a lady of her stature, whatever it may be.
“My name is Ariadne, and I am the daughter of King Minos of Crete.” She answered. She sounded out of breath. Oh well, not his fault, he did do his best to clear a path. “And that is where I come from.”
“Well then, princess, I suppose your prince left you on such an island?” Dionysos questioned as he pushed his way through some low-hanging branches. “And is Crete not the home place of the minotaur?”
“Yes, it is.”
Well, that gave him absolutely nothing to work with.
“And I assume you wished to escape it?”
“What, the minotaur?” Ariadne sounded out of breath. “Or that horrible kingdom?”
“Why not both?” he asked once more. He couldn't help but wonder why someone would run away without at least the concept of a plan, but she had not said, so he would not pry.
“Dion, that is a personal question regarding my family life, and one which I will choose to ignore.”
That was fair; it wasn’t really his business, no matter how much his mind itched for the answer. No matter, they were at the clearing now.
“Behold, Lady Ariadne, your temporary sanctuary,” he said as he spread his arms in a grand gesture.
He watched her face as she took in the stained white tent, which thankfully had no holes in it. True to her respectful upbringing, she kept a blank face as she walked towards the clearing.
She would make an excellent actor.
“Well,” she carefully said, “it could use a bit of fixing, but it is well enough.”
How kind of her to say so, a mad grin spread across his face, and he wondered how long he could keep up the charade, without revealing himself or his abilities.
“Let's get to work.”