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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He didn't hurry his tending to the mortal girl, however. He let Nyx wait. There was bitterness in his heart, and as much as he told himself he was being foolish -- he knew this would happen sometime -- it was still difficult. He wished he could show her what it felt like.
On one of her visits once, Nyx had brought him the essence of a small red flower that soothed the nerves. He used this substance on the girl in the fashion Nyx had shown him, settling her down into a twilight sleep. It made him smile to use Nyx' gift on the girl.
Finally, once he was assured that the girl was as comfortable as he could make her, he stepped out of the room, pushing aside the curtain that separated his sleeping area from the living area.
He was smeared with the mortal girl's blood, and looked rather grave. That did not preclude him from greeting Striding over to his wife, he bent down and kissed her cheek briefly. "Nyx."
She smelled like tobacco and nighttime and him, under all of it, just faintly, him.He drew away, ( ... )
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Pulling out a chair for Nyx to sit in at his small wooden table, he sat down himself, placing the glass on the surface of the wood.
"Yes," he said, his voice pitched deliberately low so as not to wake the one in the other room. "She needed someone."
Nyx wouldn't like that.
Erebos took a long drag of the cigarette his wife brought him, then brushed a leaf of tobacco off his lip. He cast a look over his shoulder toward the separating curtain, then back at Nyx.
"Surely you're not jealous."
He knew she was, or was getting there.
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And then he felt his wife's arms about his waist, her cheek against his back, and heard her soft words. He always enjoyed it when she called him a beast. At the moment, however, he was irritated with her. She expected him to just roll over and take it when she went to see him, but the moment there was even a whisper of a suggestion that he had taken himself a lover, like she had, the claws came out.
And she hadn't even asked. She'd assumed. He had never taken a lover apart from Nyx. He had never seen the point. She was his, and would always be his, and there was not a force in the universe, now, that could change that. Even if, at times, they hated each other, they would never be apart. Could never be apart. It was the way of things ( ... )
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The him that Erebos hated so, the him that Nyx was surprised he hadn't tried to throttle with his bare hands, was inconsequential, when it came down to it. She wasn't sure Ere knew that, but she also wasn't sure how to tell him that - if it would matter, if it would help. She felt guilt, deep and piercing now, for what her pleasure, her freedom, cost her husband. Having a lover was simply a consequence of needing to experience the brighter, luminous parts of herself. Darkness was impenetrable, but Night ( ... )
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Yes. Taking a lover was beginning to sound very good indeed.
"You are who you are," he said, his voice flat and unemotional, but not unkind. "You have told me countless times that you need this. I will not be the one to deny you your needs, nor will I permit you to do it yourself because you think I would be better off. It does not work like that."
He turned around and looked down at her.
Maybe in a few more centuries he could understand where she was coming from. For now....
For now, he just....
"Why did you come, Nyx?" he asked softly, once more tipping her chin up so that he could meet her eyes.
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