strong, fast, fresh from the fight

The Maze

Narcissus grinned at the other’s answer, leaning into the kiss with a laugh, “See? I knew you’d see it my way.” He really didn’t have a doubt about it, all things considering. It only took a few words to get people to agree with him, anyway. His view on love and lust was skewed, perhaps. Where it was less of an emotional attachment, and more of a worship of another pretty thing. After all, Dionysus was pretty, he was pretty, and so was Theseus. Everyone won. “Now are you going to keep asking me ridiculous questions, or are you going to fuck me?” 

-

It is an opportunity, he thinks. If they live a life together without Dionysus, a life without the direct interference of the gods, in some form of domestic arrangement. They could live together, eat their meals together, perhaps hunt again, and in the evenings they would tumble into bed and claim each other’s lips until sleep took them. And then perhaps when they returned to Elysium, when Theseus went before his father victorious once more, Narcissus may not even want Dionysus to visit him again. He took interest in one of the most beautiful men who had ever lived and he knew such a thing would be a challenge, that was half the fun. Because what a conquest, what a notch in his bedpost, to bed the hunter. That is how it had began, but the man before him meant more than that now, despite his vanity, despite his chatter, he was interesting and smart, he would argue he could outshoot Paris. “Here?” He asks, brows raising as he turns his head to look around the living area. He hums in thought, fingers deftly unbuttoning a shirt that feels like it’s made of the finest silk and knowing Narcissus, it probably was. It is a light jest and then his shoulders are raising in a shrug and then he is pressing his mouth to the other man’s in such a way as if has waited weeks to do so. Because he has, and he will not wait a second more. 

Narcissus hummed, though he was far too obsessed with the situation to think that there could be a double meaning behind Theseus’ comment. It sounded like a joke, therefore, the rift took it as one. After all, the other had never been bothered by Dionysus or any other who had stopped by. Narcissus was more than willing to let a pretty person into his bed, but the idea of Theseus being there indefinitely was too much of a temptation to pass up. “Dodge? Of course not. Join. I’ll share with you.” His fingers trailed over the expanse of the other’s neck now, framing his jaw, “We both know that’s never been a problem before.”

-

It is different here, Theseus thinks. There are others like them, others who have shared Elysium even, but they are somewhat safer from the interference of the gods. He thinks that chances of Dionysus showing up are slim to none after talking to Mara, that kobalos. It’s perhaps a bit...There’s a lot to sort out when it comes to the man before him and he is in Corinth on a mission from the god of the sea himself, but perhaps now he has time to figure things out. He looks to Narcissus before him and he leans in to press a kiss to his lips and for all of his own greatness, he has not a damn clue how to put what he is feeling into words. To propose monogamy probably sounds absurd and he decides against that argument as he rests his forehead against the hunter’s. He kisses him again, firmer this time, his fingers carefully curling at the front of his shirt to keep from wrinkling it beyond repair. “I could stay.” He admits when he pulls away, lips hardly an inch away from the other’s.

Theseus was his closest connection to Elysium at the moment, the newest to enter from its fields. Parts of Patroclus ached to go back. It was a feeling that lingered deep within his soul, one that he tried to ignore more often than not. If he had given into it, he would’ve left the moment the veil had fallen, and Hyacinth had pressed him to return with him. “Is it? I would hope no one is having a good time without me,” he managed a smile, but he looked down now, finding the words for the question he wanted to ask. “He keeps busy?”

-

“He trains, he swims, we go hunting. Sometimes we both go bother Odysseus.” The more Theseus thinks on Elysium, the more he wonders what paradise it truly was. In life he’d been a hero, in death, he was supposed to be a hero, he was supposed to have earned peace. He’d often wondered if he wanted such a thing. If anything, the place had served as a domain for him to lick his wounds and reflect on what he’d lost in life. Pirithous, Ariadne, Hippolytus, Phaedra, Aegeus, the list went on. He had Asterius, he’d pleaded before the judges of the Underworld for the prince to be given paradise and later, he’d had Narcissus. Achilles had Patroclus, it’d seemed later on they’d had the lover of Apollo, too. And yet Theseus did wonder if Achilles missed life, missed war even. He’d never bothered to ask, such a thing felt more than a little rude. “You’ve been missed dearly. Who else is there to tell me it’s fine to hang around?” He grins, thinking of the multiple times that the Greatest of the Greeks had essentially dragged him by the arm from the villa. “But what about here? You seem comfortable.” 

“Perhaps so.” Mara cannot claim to truly share in the experience. What is beyond death will not touch her, the end of each life more of a nuisance than a true concern, as she knows reincarnation waits on the other side. It’s a cheat not afforded to many others, and yet perhaps she agrees with him, in the fact that there must be something… freeing in the unknown. The lack of care. “I imagine it makes things easier. Simpler.” Mara is not a simple woman, nor would she ever claim to long for it, but there is a certain nostalgia she holds for the first days within their village. Back when the world was so much smaller. But fools live and die in small worlds, blinded to the bigger picture. She will not be one of them. “Ah yes, only a son. Because daughters were so incapable of carrying the legacy,” the words are laced with sarcasm, but there’s no true ire in her tone, more mirthful than anything. Her gender has always been under discriminations, no matter what the age, to point it out is of no great irritation. “But you are correct, that has not changed. Good and bad parents exist, much as they always have. Much as they always will. It is simply human nature.” She takes note of his speech, the way it sounds as if he hasn’t been in this age for long. Even more pieces being slowly uncovered, eventually Mara might even have the full picture, if she keeps prodding. 

-

“Time has not been kind to women.” He remarks plainly, because it’s the truth. He’d watched what had happened with Helen, he had a bit of hand at one point in the injustices against her. Ariadne had been brilliant, as had Phaedra, his Amazonian queen, and Odyseuss had gone on and on about Penelope’s cleverness. They were just as capable, and yet they were overlooked. He’d thought on it more in Elysium, he’d had time to assess his relationships with those who’d been around him in life. The woman beside him, this trickster, reminds him of Ariadne, just a bit. It’s in the slope of her nose, a glint in her eye. Theseus nods, eyes glancing to the light footprints in the sand before them. He thinks he’d been a good father, he had tried his best not to push Hippolytus to do anything, had encouraged him to forge his own path. Perhaps he should have been watching that path a little more carefully. “Tell me, trickster, does your kind really have family? I don’t think I’ve ever really given it much thought.”

She doesn’t expect him to give a true answer, but takes note of how Adrian dances around it all the same. Mara shakes her head quietly, eyes cast out upon the dark waves as they roll against the beach. She remembers such a time that they speak of, when glory was the highest prize that could be won, and nothing mattered so much as the legend one would leave behind. Perhaps her own head had been full of such fantasies, once, but it is something the kobalos has long outgrown. “The age of heroes is long gone. This world hardly believes in such things anymore.” Not in the way that it used to. She’s come to realize there is not much anything humans hold continued faith in, devotion eroded away over time like rocks by the sea shore. “There are many who do not believe in the existence of an afterlife at all, much less look forward to it. If there is one thing to be said of this age, it is their belief in choosing to live for this life, not the next.”

-

“It’s almost…” The concept of such a thing should be jarring and yet, when Theseus really thinks about it, it’s kind of freeing. “They’re not wrong for that.” Many other things, perhaps, but that’s not one of them. “How liberating it must feel to not be burdened by the thought of what awaits you on the other side.” He looks towards her and then he’s watching their feet in the sand. He almost feels less as if he is walking and more like he is pacing along the shoreline. It’s the presence of the water, he thinks, that has his tongue a bit looser. There’d been a time long ago where he’d look out at the sea and speak his thoughts, he’d pretend he was telling Poseidon his problems. Instead he is flanked by a follower of the god who seemed to plague him. “That was the norm, have a son, hope they were a hero or that they’d do something to favor the gods. If they themselves couldn’t have glory, they’d surely live vicariously through their children.” He scoffs at such an idea now and it feels blasphemous, and yet he can’t find it in him to care. “I hear that part hasn’t changed much, I’ve watched an awful lot of television the last few weeks.”

Rejection wasn’t something Zeke was all that used to, but it was something he could take well. “Suit yourself.” The shifter said with a shrug, there were plenty of furries in the woods - or however that old saying went. He gave the other a quick once over before opting to give the fighter his privacy so he could finish getting cleaned up and changed. “I’ll be upstairs then, come find me when you’re done if you still want that drink.” 

-

“I’ll meet you there.” The smile he flashes isn’t flirtatious, but it’s genuine as he finishes unwrapping a hand. It’s interesting that it’s not something he’s thought about so much since he’d wound up in Corinth. The concept of seeing people, it hadn’t interested him all that much in Elysium either until Achilles had practically begged him to allow himself and Patroclus their privacy. He has a job to do here, and yet, the people of the bay were wells of knowledge for the most part, he could consider this recon.

Put together again, he makes his way to the bar and perches himself beside the man who’d approached earlier. “I must say, I cannot recall the last time someone was so bold towards me.” Who wasn’t Narcissus, but the hunter was a special case.

“Shifters are older than you.” Dreki’s disenfranchised siblings were in their infancy in ancient Greece, but Fenrir had just about reached his prime. “If you want a history lesson then buy a book and put that head of yours to use.” The wyvern shifter offered before he took a long drag from his drink, “Or ask one yourself, I’m not their keeper, neither am I your teacher.” Dreki had no interest in answering some short man’s queries, it was far too much work for the big man to bend his ear all the way down to the so-called hero’s level. 

-

“Here in Corinth.” He clarifies, mentally kicking himself for just a moment when he realizes that maybe, just maybe he can have a bit of an in with the man at his side. “I used to be rather close with Phoenix, I knew his brother very well.” It’s a bit of a cheap shot and perhaps if he sees Fenrir again, he will apologize to him personally for using the story in such a way. But Theseus’s lips curve in a bit of a sly smile before he’s reaching to clap the large shifter on the upper arm. “Perhaps that’s a tale for another time. I imagine I’ll be in again.” It’s too enticing, it’s a space that feels familiar to him, comfortable even.

“Then it is a good thing you are here.” Petrichor offered, “I’m retired.” The phoenix waved a dismissive hand at Theseus’ clear avoidance of his question. “Apparently manticores have returned, I’m sure you’d have fun hunting one of those.” Petrichor and his siblings had once hunted them to extinction, now they were back. Theseus was no Herakles or Perseus, the minotaur was a feat but when compared to wrestling Nemea or slaying Medusa the Athenian’s past labors were miniscule. If he was in Corinth it was for greater glory than what he’d earned in life. Theseus himself was far more interesting than whatever the poets ended up writing about him. “You aren’t the first big name to come back across the veil, if Poseidon sent you here you must have something to prove.”

-

Retired, Theseus grins at the idea, and yet he doesn’t think Petrichor is joking. No, he would believe that after all this time the phoenix had decided to step back. He did wonder how many other’s there were in Corinth of his kind, how many he’d made. They could be allies, but the entire train of thought is derailed by that single word. “Manticores?” He asks with much skepticism, brows raised. “I thought you’d ridded us of all of them long ago.” It’s a curious thing and he can’t say he isn’t a little excited because he has never grappled with one himself, but he’d surely like to. “How could I say no?” His lips quirk upwards, but he thinks Petrichor knows him well enough to know that he’s not entirely joking. “Haven’t met other big names aside from the couple I know personally here yet. I have but a vague idea of what I’m in for.” He was trying to have fun with it, but it wasn’t realistic, he wasn’t a boy anymore. He might crave a challenge, but he knew his limits, even if he didn’t like acknowledging them.

Perhaps it should’ve given Narcissus a wake up call that he got all hot and bothered when Theseus talked about him like that, but he wasn’t going to even notice when it benefitted himself. Instead, the rift pressed a bit harder against the other, “I would hope so.” It was his desire to be consumed by all anyway, and even the slightest compliment made the man preen. “I’m here now. And you and I have a lot of catching up to do,” he pressed another kiss against the other’s mouth, curling his finger’s into Theseus’s short hair, the other hand over his, “Wherever you’re staying isn’t good enough. You should stay here.”

-

It takes him out of the moment, but he stays there, in Narcissus’s embrace. It’d occurred to him a couple of times in Elysium to stay with him on those mornings he hadn’t felt like making the trek back to his own villa. But it wouldn’t be just the two of them, and the idea of being shooed away for Dionysus had given him enough energy to clamber out of bed and head back home. Or to the field where he trained with Asterius, spite was a good motivator. But here in Corinth, where it was the two of them, what was keeping them apart? Theseus wants to say yes immediately, but that’s the longing speaking. He has to be rational about it, he has to protect what little remains of his heart after the loss of his family. “And dodge your other suitors?” He presses a smirk against the side of the other man’s jaw, lips descending down the smooth column of his neck. It’s presented as a jest, but he means it. He has business in Corinth, he can’t simply allow himself the distraction of more heartache. 

There is something sunk deep in his chest like a bur, she thinks. A wound that’s never quite healed, that chafes merely at the thought. And were Mara to wager, she would say that Dionysus is at the center. If she thought Adrian willing to tell of it, she would ask what has burned him so, but instead keeps the thought filed away for later. “How fortunate you are then, to find yourself so easily in the company of the divine, you have the luxury to reject the acquaintance of one.” For Mara, there is no such thing. Her life has been god-touched, and she has desperately strived to reach that peak once again, only to be rejected time and time again by her patron. The gods have hardly cared what happens to the kobaloi, and perhaps Dionysus is of little exception, even if Mara would prefer to think otherwise. “You speak as if you’ve been there,” she says, eyeing Adrian curiously. Elysium has long been lost to her, she is certain that if she were unfortunate enough to pass from this world without her magic, there would be no less waiting for her than a cage in the Tartarus for all her sins. And yet the thought intrigues her all the same, a slight nudge to see what, if anything, Adrian will divulge.

-

“I’ve heard much about it.” She’s clever, this one, but he shouldn’t expect any less of a kobalos. Theseus isn’t particularly bothered by people knowing who he is, he’s decided. If anything, he’s more concerned people would be wary of him should they know why he was present in Corinth. He could always say he was back to see what had become of his beloved Athens and was just visiting the bay, but those who had been through...Whatever the gods had decided to do, would probably know better. “It’s funny, isn’t it? Long ago we were told it awaited those who would be heroes. And everyone wanted to be a hero.” Parents had children in hopes they’d be great, not just great, but greater than themselves. He’d maybe fallen privy to such thinking with Hippolytus. And yet, after what he’d endured, while he still loved the thrill of a challenge, he couldn’t help but want just a simple life for his son, if he desired it. He’d wanted simpler things. “Is it still like that? Do people talk of death with such...Fondness?” It’s not quite the right word, but he’s not quite sure how to put the feeling into words.

“Which father was that?” Petrichor asked, only half serious. “Aegeus or Poseidon?” Theseus was one of the rare cases where he was truly born of both mortal and immortal seed. The Greek Gods were just so interesting like that. “It can feel that way, if there’s something here you wish to slay then what’s stopping you?” Petrichor questioned, he had no feelings either way towards the people of Corinth, save for perhaps a select few: Gabriel, his siblings, etc. “Things aren’t so different this age, so many things have changed, and yet, so much has stayed the same.” 

-

“Poseidon.” He’d hardly spent time with either father in the grand scheme of things, but he’d always felt closer with Aegeus. It hadn’t taken long for the two of them to fall into place side by side, father and son, after Medea had practically ran from the dinner table. The fond smile on Theseus’s lips falter for a moment and his head cants to the side just slightly as a sigh escapes him. “It would seem the gods are still going about things as they always do.” With little regard for who was caught in the crossfire. Such an opinion felt pointed and while he agreed with most people that the gods were, at their core, quite petty, it didn’t feel appropriate given his status. “I haven’t quite figured how to put an end to such a thing. As if it could ever really be stopped.”

Narcissus laughed, looking back and at Theseus as they made their way deeper into the home. “The mirrors missed you,” he crooned back, his fingers dancing along one of the frames. It was true, he enjoyed filling the mirrors with pretty faces, and Theseus’ was one of them. The rift could already think of a few others he’d like to drop in as well, but he saved that for later – right now, his attention was consumed with Theseus, and himself, of course. Narcissus leaned back against the wall, pulling Theseus with him as the other unbuttoned his shirt. “Everything is sweeter from my mouth. You know they say I have a way with words,” he threaded his fingers through the other’s hair, pulling him in for a gentle kiss. Narcissus pulled away for only a brief moment, “Tell me again how much you missed me.”

-

All of it is all so very Narcissus that for just a moment, just watching him, Theseus nearly forgets that he is there in Corinth with a purpose. Maybe he does forget it the moment their lips meet, but it’s brief, it’s not enough. Surely he has done enough to warrant some time with his lover without feeling guilty for not spending his evening productively like he’d planned. It’s not like he and Narcissus weren’t productive every time they got together. Just productive in different ways. “Everywhere I look, there’s you.” The smile he gives the other man is just a little bit sly, a jab about the mirrors. It fades away to genuine sincerity as he brings a hand up to cup the side of Narcissus’s face in a matter of seconds. “The water, the flowers, I see a crowd in the pub and I assume it must be people clambering to see you. Any noise made while I’m in the forest, I half expect to turn around and find you there beside me.” He thinks briefly of the flower pressed between the pages of that book on the mantle in his own villa. “Nothing here is as beautiful as you.” His other hand rests upon Narcissus’s chest, palm flat over his heart. “But you know that.”

There wasn’t a shy bone in Ezekiel’s body, but he could think of at least one that he’d like to put in this Adrian character. “I have a tab upstairs.” A running one that ate up the bulk of Zeke’s paycheck every week, but at least the shifter had tips to help him get by. “Or we could say fuck the bar and take the nightcap back to my place.” Zeke offered simply, the magic that permeated this man was distinct, and yet unlike anything the shifter had ever felt before. It was intoxicating. “So, whaddya say?”

-

“Bold, aren’t you?” Incredibly so, and Theseus is equal parts amused and annoyed by such a thing. The man before him is something, almost everyone in Hel’s is, that’s why he finds himself spending so much time there. His eyes go from where he’s unwrapping the gauze around his hands to the bold stranger. He’s seen him there before, he thinks, but he’s seen a lot of people. They’re about the same height, there’s some kind of dogged nice guy-ness to him. It’s the eyes, he thinks. The man is not unattractive by any means, and yet after having one of the most beautiful men who has ever walked the Earth, all of them lack a bit of luster to him. “I appreciate it, but here is fine.” He’s not particularly saying no, but he also knows he has a type, and this man is something.