When he finds her again after a long winding journey that often led him astray into dead-ends of madness and sex, he keeps thinking she should be younger. That the palace she's in shouldn't feel so safe, or be on the mainland. Her father should not be so just, so humble and his queen so sane.

"Go away, Agrios." Ariadne says flatly when she sees him again. Her black hair was combed and pulled back. He liked it loose and wild. She was clothed. He liked her better nude, sun darkening every inch of her skin.

"I love you." He insisted, which was true. Hair pulled back and body clothed it was still his Ariadne. She was still the same, her eyes were still the same.

"I know I've tasted your love's jealousy." She answered sitting like the queen she should have been by right.

"Ariadne, I promise-"

"I have already had enough of your promises." She hissed, and her eyes narrowed. Gods be what must the other divines think of him grovelling before this mortal girl half his age?

"You are my consort or will be soon enough."

"Ha! As Hera or my grandmother were the consort of Zeus or my mother was to my father? As my sister was to Apollo?"

Dionysos growled and lept at her hand tightening against her throat. "You go too far, I am not my father or my brothers!"

"You are a god and I am sick of your favor."

His hand loosens, "I have known goddesses less terrible than you. Be thankful it is I who favors you, the rest of my family would smote you for such hubris."

She scoffs, "Do not play the innocent, I know you. You've driven others to madness for less. . . Why do you not do the same to me?"

He pulled away from her, "Because I want you. Madness won't make you mine, I've learned that much from as you said driving others to it for less."

"Then why come here?"

"We are going in circles now, beloved." He leans forward and reaches into her robes, pulling out the golden thread. He tosses it, only for it to roll back to his feet.

"What are you doing?"

"Trying to find something." He murmurs and picks it up, winding the thread between his fingers the way a little girl once had with red yarn. "What is it you really wanted Ariadne?"

There is silence, and he sees her pull into herself but letting down the pride, the anger, the hurt and other walls as she does so. He can look straight through her into her heart where he sees a small child trying to survive in a labyrinthine palace, her brother's life and family's secrets and the gods' judgements on her shoulders. "I want what you promised me."

"Freedom?"

"Yes."

"The freedom to what?"

"Aaah, you were raised a woman and you have them follow you everywhere. Surely you can guess."

"Have I hurt you that deeply? Been so selfish?"

"You have."

He leans forward and pulls her into his arms, stronger than his slender body would make one believe. "Marry me? You know me, there will always be others. . . But there will only one you, one wife."

"As long as you let me go when I need to, to have others as well. Your love is like a burden sometimes and I can't always save you, not when I can't even save myself."

He sighs, cold air coming into his lungs and giving him a clarity he has rarely felt since Ampelos' death. "You will have to patient with me, while I learn to share you."

"And you will have to be patient with me too."

"Ariadne?"

"Yes?"

"I like this, us saving and trusting each other."

She smiles softly, and oh gods it feels like a warm wave of forgiveness on his soul when she does that. "I like it too, Dionysos."