by Lisa Oliver
“Why would he?” Artemas knew how unimportant he was in the scheme of things. “He knows my history; how insignificant I am in the grand tapestry of life. To him, I’m probably just an introverted librarian who’d be so fucking thankful someone noticed me, I’d gladly give up my ass and become a brood mare for him anytime he liked.”
“Cut that out.” Artemas rubbed his arm where Orin had slapped him. “Having children or not is a personal choice and if you aren’t ready to have them, then that should’ve been respected by Silvanus and the Fates.”
“The Fates don’t seem to care about free will or personal choice,” Artemas said bitterly. “I mean look at Poseidon, having twins at his age, and what about Thor? You said yourself the big man didn’t want children and now he’s taking an afternoon nap because you got him up the duff.”
“We’re not unhappy about it,” Orin said quickly. “Admittedly, it was me who always wanted kids, and Thor… well, he’d never really thought about it, and he doesn’t like snotty noses. For some reason he seemed to think all kids had them as part of their genetics. But it’s not as though any child of a god is going to get sick, so he’s got no worries there. We were there, did I tell you? When Jason gave birth to his and Lasse’s daughter. Well, me and Jason were there for the difficult bit, along with Bastet. Thor and Lasse didn’t come in until after the gory stuff was done.”
“I’ll make sure I’m on the other side of the planet, or in a different realm when Thor is due.” The whole idea of childbirth was a totally alien concept to Artemas, and he wanted it to stay that way. “The thing is, in a way the Fates were right. Who am I to stop Silvanus from having his dearest wish?”
“You’re his mate, so you have every right,” Orin said simply. “I’m sure there are couples all over the world, who are going through this very same situation. One half of the pair wants to procreate and the other one doesn’t. The thing is with children, a new life that a couple is responsible for, for a long time, you can’t change your mind once the baby is born. You did the right thing. You told Silvanus your position before you allowed him to claim you. He accepted your decision. That was his choice. You’re not obligated in any way to change your stance on this, regardless of what the Fates might think or say.”
“Then why do I feel so guilty?” Artemas slumped further in his chair. “When I think of all the good Silvanus has done since time began, and how he’s held off from ever having offspring before, why should the needs of a half-breed bastard be more important than his?”
“I’m going to get Thor to thump you in a minute,” Orin said, raising his tiny fists. The picture was so comical, Orin’s perfect features scrunched up in what he probably thought was a vicious expression, his fists held up in a boxing stance, Artemas wanted to laugh. But he didn’t, because in Orin’s kind and loving way, he was trying to be supportive.
“The circumstances of your birth might not have been ideal,” Orin continued, shaking his fists, “but from the moment you took your first breath, your rights mattered. If the people in your life up until now were too stupid not to realize that, then that’s their loss. But the one thing we should expect from our mate is unconditional love and acceptance. You have every right to be proud of who you are, and don’t you forget it.” Orin slowly lowered his fists into his lap, eying him sideways.
Artemas swallowed the lump in his throat. “Thank you,” he said quietly. “Although, this is all probably moot anyway. The Fates are the only beings in existence who can break a mating. I’m surprised I can still feel Silvanus through our bond.”
“I’ve never met Silvanus,” Orin said. “I never ever dreamed that gods as old as time still roam the earth. I always imagined them sitting on clouds somewhere, puffing a pipe and complaining about the good old days.”
“If you didn’t know who he was, you’d swear Silvanus wasn’t a day over thirty.” With the most gorgeous smile, Artemas remembered.
“Bah, this lack of aging thing can get boring sometimes,” Orin said with a wave of his hand. “One day we’re actually going to meet a god who looks his age, or at least like a hunky silver fox. But any way. What I was trying to say, is that I doubt Silvanus would allow the Fates to break your bond. Think about it. He has lived longer than our mind can comprehend. Putting off having children, for five years, ten or even a hundred years won’t be a big deal to him, not when you have eternity spreading out in front of you.”
Artemas had to admit he hadn’t thought about things from that perspective.
“This, this here and now is just a blip in time, a tiny blink, a grain of sand in the lifetime of one like Silvanus. Why wouldn’t he put off having kids if it will make you happy? Nope.” Orin sat back, folding his arms across his chest, a satisfied smile on his face. “I think you’ll find this is all a storm in a teacup as my precious mate would say. You’ll see. Silvanus will come groveling, real soon if he knows what’s good for him, and then you can have hot smoochy kisses and all the make-up sex you could ask for.”
“Like you and Thor.” Artemas grinned.
“My mate adores me because I understand his need to thump people,” Orin said smugly. “Why do you think he’s taking a nap now? The silly fool took on half of the elven guard in one go this morning, complete with baby bump. A training exercise they all called it, but I call bullshit. Those stupid elves wanted to try and take him down, but they lost, again. I can fully imagine Thor doing the same thing in six months’ time, with our little one curled up asleep in a back pack.”
“And that doesn’t bother you?” Unfortunately, Artemas could see the same thing. Thor was reckless, had more energy than a live volcano, and lived to avenge wrong doing and prove his strength.
“I accept my mate the way he is, as he does me.” Orin leaned closer and whispered. “He even has me reading to our bump in bed at night. He wants our young one to be strong and brainy.”
Artemas could imagine that too, and he felt a pang where his heart should be. He wasn’t ready for children, he knew that, but the type of closeness Orin described was something he’d wanted his whole life. Would Silvanus really come for him? Would he genuinely accept Artemas’s need to get used to having a partner first, before children were thrown in the mix? How long would it be before they fucked each other anyway and to hell with the consequences? Artemas wasn’t sure, but he knew he wasn’t going to find the answer to his questions, sitting in Thor and Orin’s living room. “We’ll meet up for dinner soon,” he said, patting Orin’s knee. “I have some thinking to do. Thank you, my friend.”
“Any time.” Orin’s smile lit up the room, as Artemas disappeared.
Chapter Thirteen
I think this goes beyond a bouquet and chocolates. Silvanus looked down at the beautiful array of flowers he’d collected. A gorgeous blue chrysanthemum to indicate love and loyalty, bright purple gladiolus signifying strength. The yellow tipped freesias were a blast of passion and joy, while the deeper blue hydrangea hopefully conveyed his emotional understanding. Three bright yellow sunflowers graced the center of it - a symbol of Silvanus's loyalty and adoration for his mate. It was beautiful, without the fluff. Strong, simple flowers conveying a wealth of emotions.
“But it won’t be enough.” Silvanus knew that. He had no doubts Artemas was intelligent enough to read the language of flowers, but even though his mate carried the tree of life on his back, he wasn’t of the land. He was a creature of magic, with salt water running through his veins. Silvanus thought back to what he knew about Thoth. Wisdom! Silvanus clicked his fingers. Show your mate you respect his quest for knowledge. Of course.
Leaving the bouquet on a stone stand in his precious glade, Silvanus translocated. The harsh bitter heat of the Egyptian desert sand blanketed him immediately, seeping into his pores, shortening his breath. About fifty miles to his right, Zosime, Jason’s sister, known worldwide as the Sphinx stood guard over the Great Pyramids, resting place of the pharaohs. But Silvanus was looking for something a little less well-known.
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Casting his mind back thousands of years, Silvanus looked around, making sure he had the right place. Moving ten paces to the right, he crouched down, burying his hands in the scorching sand. “Reveal,” he commanded, stepping back and watching as the sand rolled away. Slowly stone forms appeared, giant columns strewn about, knocked over by the combined weight of grains smaller than a pin head. Steps carved out of granite appeared as more sand moved, leading to a large marble hall. Silvanus quickened the pace of the moving sand causing other details to appear. A courtyard, bench seats carved from now petrified wood, large stone jars which made Silvanus smile.
“I knew you were around here somewhere,” he chuckled. Spreading his arms in a large half circle, Silvanus protected the site, keeping it from prying eyes, drones, and preventing the sand from returning. Now all he needed to do was get back to his glade and find some suitable words to encourage Artemas to view his gift.
/~/~/~/~/
Surrounded by words and I don’t know what to say. Artemas was back at his father’s library, but for once, the table he worked at was bare except for a solitary piece of paper and a pen. He was attempting a letter to Silvanus – it seemed like the polite thing to do, but for now the unmarked paper mocked him.
Artemas spoke and read almost ten thousand languages, old and new. He’d read every book, scroll, and manuscript in his father’s library and many more besides. There wasn’t any scrawl on a piece of paper, parchment, or rock he couldn’t translate, and yet when faced with writing a simple apology for his mate, Artemas couldn’t think of a single thing to say.
A loud ding heralded the large crystal sphere that appeared on the table in front of him. Artemas eyed it warily, recognizing the crest on the sphere’s stand. “Uncle Zeus, I’m busy.”
“Busy moping by the looks of things.” His uncle’s deep voice rang out from the sphere. “I expected Silvanus to be with you. Your father couldn’t wait to tell me the news yet another one of his sons were mated. But no matter, you’ll do. I have a job for you.”
The last time I did a job for you, I got myself into this mess, Artemas thought bitterly, but of course, one didn’t slang off at a senior family member. “What can I do for you?” He asked politely instead.
“Such manners,” Zeus’s chuckles echoed around the library. “I know you didn’t get those from your father, not on our side of the family anyway.”
“Uncle Zeus,” Artemas warned. The last thing he wanted to encourage was more long-winded complaints from one brother about another. “Busy, remember? Just get to the point of your call.”
“You really need to lighten up a bit more, Artie,” Zeus grumbled. “But still, seeing as you insist. My minions have been reporting someone is searching for you, or rather, they are looking for Mr. Klaxon, the human cover you used at Sotheby’s. I wasn’t overly concerned at first – I thought maybe you’d finally got yourself laid and someone was being pushy about a second run at your dick. But it appears, whoever this person or persons are, they are getting rather persistent about talking to you. What happened when you secured your mate’s book from the auction?”
“There was someone bidding against me, which is why the price was far higher than it should’ve been.” That nagging feeling Artemas had in the back of his neck the night of the auction returned. “I originally assumed it was Silvanus himself, but he assures me he has no use for computers and the person bidding did it anonymously online. Silvanus believed, when I shared my concern, it was just some crazy person who wanted the book because it was a one-of-a-kind.”
“Well, it seems they aren’t happy they can’t find you,” Zeus warned. “Numerous messages have been left with your cover number, each one getting more urgent than the last. Someone, unfortunately I can’t find out who, is trying to trace the credit card number you used at the hotel. My hackers are working on it, but whoever this person is, is damned clever.”
Yes, Zeus had hackers and IT personnel, and he ran a call messaging service that allowed gods like Artemas to provide phone numbers for human business. Artemas never had a phone, saw no need for one, as his dealings with humans were infrequent enough. But out of all the gods, Zeus embraced the new technologies and insisted his minions trained on every available device that came out.
“Will I need a new persona?” Artemas asked. Doing something like that would make returning to Sotheby’s an impossibility for fifty years, but that wasn’t a huge sacrifice. He could always glamor himself if there was something really important he wanted.
“I don’t give a damn on how you present yourself to the human world. You can have a dozen personas if you like. I want to know who this damn person is,” Zeus thundered. “No one, but no one tries to hack my system and get away with it. Find out why they want that damn book, or you, and put a stop to their digging.”
Letting out a long breath, Artemas glanced at the empty piece of paper waiting for him, and then at the crystal sphere that was now glowing bright red. Zeus always had a flare for the dramatic. “Please ask one of your minions to set up an appointment with this person, whoever they are. Meeting at the hotel might be the most opportune idea, seeing as that person knows I’ve been there before. I’m sure your customer service team can make excuses for me about why I haven’t returned their calls – something vague about my traveling would work.”
“He may have to be silenced.” A thread of Zeus’s power sent sparks out of the crystal ball. “Most people who lose out on an auction accept it with good grace and move on. Admittedly, Silvanus’s book is a rare one of a kind, but when it comes down to it, it’s a sheaf of paper bound in a prettily carved cover, the contents of which can’t be read by any mortal.”
Artemas thought back to when he saw the cover for the first time, and how drawn he was to it. But that was because he and Silvanus were mates. In theory, no one else would experience a similar connection. Certainly no one at the auction house seemed moved by it at all. “I’ll meet the person at a time of his choosing,” he said abruptly. “Please ask your staff to keep me informed. I will get to the bottom of this.”
“It goes without saying, you won’t take the book with you,” Zeus warned.
His jaw tight, because if there was one thing he couldn’t stand, was someone treating him like an idiot, Artemas said “goodbye” and flicked the orb back to its master, his mind in a turmoil. Have the Fates already chosen another mate for Silvanus? But no, he could still feel the buzz of his connection with his mate in his mind. And besides, that line of thinking wasn’t worth following anyway. Whoever wanted the book bid on it well before Artemas and Silvanus met.
So why? Leaning back in his chair, Artemas pondered the reasons why someone would be almost frantic to contact him over a random auction item. There were fanatics in any sentient species – collectors who would do anything to gain control of the item they desired, even resorting to stealing it. But most normal people would accept their loss and move on. A paranormal person may feel they could wait another decade or two and see if the book showed up at an auction again…. Artemas had come across a few vampires like that. But then… Nothing about the situation made sense and as Artemas sat alone in the silent library, he felt the loss of Silvanus even more. The man seemed so calm and easy to talk to.
As if in response to his thoughts a giant bouquet of flowers suddenly appeared on his table, beautifully arranged in what looked like a genuine Ming vase. Artemas hesitated to touch the quality card attached to the vase with a dark blue ribbon. Was this the modern equivalent of a brush-off? A bunch of flowers for saying “thanks for the rub off, have a nice life?”
It wasn’t as though Artemas had enjoyed a relationship in the past century or so. In fact, if he was pushed to think about it, he wasn’t sure he’d had a connection to anyone significant in three hundred years at best. Five maybe. Artemas shook his head, clearing his thoughts. If the note was a brush off, it was in direct contrast to the message from the flowers, and who would send flowers to someone they were breaking up
with?
I’m going salt shaker crazy, Artemas thought as he untied the card from the beautiful display. Just seeing his name in Silvanus’s elegant script made his heart skip a beat. Flipping the card over, Artemas read.
My dearest Artemas,
I have never been prouder than when you stood up to the Fates and let them know your true worth. While I’m mortified beyond belief that my own foolish actions caused the situation, I am praying that you won’t hold my words and actions, done before we ever met or I knew of your existence, against me.
I have a gift for you. Something that I hope will convince you of the honesty and sincerity of my emotions. Unfortunately, it is not something I can deliver, or something you can actually own. But can I tempt you to visit a place no eyes have seen in thousands of years?
The co-ordinates are below. I’ll be waiting there, your loyal, and loving mate,
Silvanus.
There were some numbers underneath Silvanus’s name. Artemas closed his eyes, imagining his mate speaking those words in his head. The note was more than he could’ve hoped for, but it left him with so many questions, not least of all, the idea of sex between them.
Yes, from a logical perspective, Artemas knew many gay men had long term relationships without ever having anal sex. Some men just didn’t enjoy it and that was understandable. A relationship was worth far more than where a person could stick his dick. He’d enjoyed previous similar liaisons in the past. But they were never meant to be long term. As a god, Artemas always had the aging issue to contend with when he hooked up with humans.
But this was different. Silvanus and he were joined for eternity – or at least Artemas assumed they were. There was nothing in his mate’s note to suggest Silvanus agreed to the bond being broken, and surely, if Silvanus was keen to stay bound to him, the Fates wouldn’t ignore his wishes. Just like Orin predicted, Silvanus had come begging Artemas’s pardon and offering gifts instead. That little cat will be unbearably smug when he finds out, Artemas thought with a wry grin.
