Chapter 26
From the Journal of Bobby Winchester
It was weeks after that, perhaps a month. It was hard to tell how time went in the Underworld. My hair was beginning to poke out of my scalp but it was still too short or me to do anything with. The war was still on with Zeus. This troubled me a great deal. It was no longer at our doorstep, in fact, the siege Crowley had laid while I had been a prisoner had remained. It was harder to besiege gods than men, however. They, for one thing, could fly. They also did not starve.
For a week I had hardly left the bedroom. I slept for too many hours or paced in circles in my pajamas. It wasn't specifically that I didn't want to pull myself together. But I got to the door and I just lost all my energy and my body just shook. It didn't take kindly to my commands to clean myself up and at least haunt the rest of the palace. I stalked around and around in circles. Pacing through the piles of clothing on the floor. I alternated between vivid fantasies of tearing pieces of Zeus' skin off until enough of his ichor dripped onto the floor for even him to die, and empty minded staring. My brain fogged over and I stood in enervated stillness.
I stood, greasy pajamas hanging off of my now slimming frame, staring absently at the wall. Crowley was moving behind me. He was saying something.
"Go and do something, Bobs," it seemed to take a long time between when I heard that he was talking and when I could make any sense of it. Even longer before I could think of anything to say and get my mouth to cooperate with speech.
"Yeah. I'll…train…today…I need new armor….I lost it…I suppose I should have armor." The stabbing jagged pain I had started with was scabbed over and it had left nothing in its wake.
He sloughed off his old clothes and draped himself in something. I thought he was looking at me. He didn't say anything else, but he left. I was relieved.
I was sort of absently wandering around the room. I hadn't washed myself in days. I could smell my skin. How did Crowley stand it? I began morosely picking up my reeking clothes. If anything I could at least not make him live in squalor. I lifted a muss of them to move them into a pile and heard papers crunch. I furrowed my brow and knelt down. It seemed like Crowley's clothing was amongst the pile too. A crumpled paper with many scratchings out was stuffed in a pocket. picked it up, and peered through my haze at it. Battle plans, it looked like. I sat on the ground and traced my fingers over the battle lines, interested in how the forces of Hell were going to line up against the Olympiad.
It took me a long time to decipher what had once been a language I took to. When the black ink had fought its way through my muddled mess my heart fell through my stomach and blood rushed behind my ears. This was…the worst plan I had ever seen. This was suicide. Tantamount to surrender. I didn't think that Hell could recover from the disaster that would follow trying to use this poor excuse for a strategy. My mind sharpened aggressively. Crowley wasn't this stupid. Was Crowley this stupid? I had never seen him make battle plans. Maybe he was terrible at it. Perhaps he was giving up. He couldn't give up. Something had to be done. I had to…I had to do something. My heart was pounding so roughly in my chest that I felt light headed.
In a rush I started toward the door. I was in the process of flinging it open to rush to the War Room and plead with him to reconsider when I stopped myself. I was going to have to be careful with this. Crowley wasn't particularly appreciative of criticism when he thought he was being clever. And he certainly would have nothing good to say about me turning up to the war room smelling like weeks' worth of sweat. I was going to have to have some presentation. Besides, I had never pleaded with Crowley, and I wasn't about to start. He was a King, he had plenty of people to plead with him. He had one to flick him in the ear and tell him he was being an incompetent tadpole with a plan that could have been thought up by a baby angel.
I stood perfectly still by the door for a moment and slowly turned from it, walking resolutely into the washroom. Zeus be damned. I ran myself a frighteningly hot bath and lowered myself into it gingerly. It felt good, to have a purpose. To be so carefully preparing for something. To be moving on my own volition. The shadow of being crushingly immobile hovered above me but I was a Winchester. And Hell needed to be saved. I scraped away all the sweat and grime from a week of lolling about and washed my hair, wishing that it were longer, for effect. When I was dried and perfumed I wrapped myself in my most elegant gown. It was ivory and draping, cuffed at the wrists in gold.
I inspected myself harshly in the mirror. With meticulous purpose I bent into better light and painted my face, giving myself dark lines and hard edges. I was beginning to look fierce. My lips twisted up into the first grin I had had in weeks and I lowered my crown onto my head. I looked, again, like the Queen of Hell.
Thus decorated, I stalked from the room, gripping the poorly construed plan fiercely. My heeled shoes clicked imposingly. As I stalked I swept passed my handmaiden, Anydka. She bowed and nodded at me approvingly. The guards stepped demurely out of my way.
I reached the double doors of the War Room, tall and a dark wood. I gripped both of the handles and threw them open so roughly that they smashed against the wall. I waited just a moment before entering, allowing myself to be framed in the threshold.
"Hades." I barked. "What the hell is this?"I slammed the notes down on the broad War Room table and glowered at him.
He looked back at me evenly then beamed. Not his snarky, sly little half smile. He beamed.
"Persephone," he said with relish, a real four syllables, "You look ravishing."
He leaned equally across the table, that smile still brightening his face.
I ignored that, "You came up with this? This plan is horrible. You're going to get us all killed. I thought you were supposed to be intelligent, didn't people used to think you were a threat? How did you even take Hell the first time? Was everybody else on sick leave?"
He cut me off, laughing. It was a laugh I wasn't entirely familiar with from him. Loud and resounding laughter. He looked like he wasn't breathing right. I gaped at him, lost and desperately confused.
"What's – "
He gestured expansively at the table where a large and detailed map was laid out depicting perfectly logical and not at all suicidal attack strategies. I mean, it wasn't by any means inspired, but it wasn't a death trap. I cocked my head.
Gabriel tumbled out of the upper corner of the room where he had been tucked in the unlit shadows, laughing. He held out his hand to Crowley happily and Crowley…high fived him.
"Did you guys…" I said slowly, "…con me?"
They gave me matching grins and said in adorable unison, "Yes."
Gabriel landed heavily on Crowley's shoulders and leaned his elbows on his head. I sighed at shrugged, "Ok, let's get to work."
Crowley, roughly shoved Gabriel off of him and scrunched his face at me, "We have a perfectly fine plan, milady." He said sarcastically.
I crossed my arms, "You do, but I'm here now, darling, we don't have to settle for fine."
XXXXX
From the Journal of Bobby Winchester
We spent our time after that, primarily, locked away together in the War Room, bickering about strategies and gambits. He was better at the gambits, I far more cunning with the strategies. It worked, mostly. And it was good for me to bicker and argue with him. I no longer woke in the middle of the night plagued in terror. Zeus' grip was loosening.
Still though, I wanted this war to be over. I wanted to concentrate on building Hell. I needed to concentrate on finding a weapon that would kill Hellions. I needed the war to be over. And that is when he arrived.
We were in the War Room, a great, low ceilinged place in the fortified center of the palace with a broad iron table dominating the large part of it. Right now, on the middle of the table, stood a rather large model of Mt. Olympus as well as miniature figurines of armies and gods. We stalked around it, looking at the figurines from every possible angle. Occasionally one of us would voice a thought, usually to be aggressively suppressed by the other voicing an insurmountable opposition to the idea.
"We should move these infantrymen up here." Crowley said in a low voice, reaching forward to reposition them.
I, slung in a chair with my feet splayed widely across the table, made a sound akin to a walrus dying. "That's a good idea," I said harshly, "It would certainly boost morale to watch them be shot to bits."
"It might boost mine to –" his snarl was interrupted by a knock at the door.
He turned to the door to bark at whoever had interrupted his, undoubtedly brilliant retort, but I beat him to it.
"Yes, please do come in," I called sweetly and shot him a triumphant grin.
One of the throne room guards came in, his face a mask of uncertainty, "Milady, milord…there is…someone waiting for you in the throne room." The guards always addressed us, 'milady and milord,' in that order. It irritated Crowley. It was the little things.
"Who?" I asked, a shiver running down my spine. Zeus had been our last visitor.
"Um…I'm not sure?" he said nervously, "No one can remember letting him in…he was just….there."
Crowley rounded on him, "You allowed some unchecked vagabond into OUR THRONE ROOM, YOU MORONIC GHOUL?" He erupted.
I put a hand on his shoulder and took a half step in front of him, between the guard and the raging King, "Lead us to him, Caeus."
The guard, Caeus, nodded a bit gratefully at me and turned sharply, leading us down the hallway toward the throne room. Crowley clicked his fingers and our crowns materialized on our heads. We paused outside the throne room and I reached out and touched the back of his hand briefly before we walked through the high throne room doors.
Standing, lounging really, the most loungingly I had ever seen someone stand, was a nearly beautiful man. I say nearly beautiful. His cheekbones were so high and so severely sharp that they detoured entirely around beautiful and landed very strongly on disconcerting. His eyes were not so much dark as chasms. He had curling dark hair that hung in waves around his face and a self satisfied smile. We approached with caution and I saw, as the man turned and I saw him fully from the front, that he was robed in a perfectly tailored, flawlessly elegant women's gown. Gold studded silken slippers completing the ensemble.
Crowley and I glanced at each other.
The man approached me and gave me a chilling and horrible smile. "Per-seph-ooooh-ne." he crooned, lingereing over each syllable. An odd feeling oozed off of him. Difficult to describe. I reconsidered, not difficult to describe, uncomfortable to describe. Sexuality. And wilderness.It fell off of him like a smell, I was nearly surprised that guards weren't falling over each other.
Crowley was not forgotten, the man turned and fixed my King with his daunting gaze, chill via entire lack of warmth, rather than their own coldness. His thin lips twisted into a stomach churning grin, "Hades." He breathed roughly, like a moan.
Crowley looked like he had been made uncomfortable, which to be honest impressed me more than getting unnoticed into the throne room.
"Welcome to the Underworld – " I trailed off at the end, looking at him expectantly.
He smiled at me rapturously but ignored my question, "I have heard the whispers and rumors that you and the witless of Olympus are not particularly fond of each other." He paused there and stepped forward in a languid step, he reached up with a bony and long fingered hand and touched the side of my face reverently, "I am sorry to hear about your mistreatment, Per-seph-oooh-ne."
He turned and walked away from me, shoulders swaying as he walked, thin hands held out, "As I'm sure the two of you could have spelled out all on your lonesome, you are not the only person that the son of the Titans has slighted. " When he said slighted he darkened and his voice sounded like a forgotten murder.
"No, yeah I mean… he's a pretty big douche." At that, Crowley turned his head and fitted me with an unimpressed stare.
The man spun back around and laughed. This was by far the worst, it was a high and chilling thing to hear. He clicked back over to me and leaned at me, "I could never have said it better." He rumbled.
"As fascinating as you have thus far been," Crowley started roughly, "you don't-"
"How very rude of me," he man said, interrupting him and stepping in far too close for Crowley's comfort, he gave a little bow, "Dionysus, oh Dark King."
"We've got Aphrodite too." I said, cutting in before Crowley could lose his temper.
Dionysus swung around to me, angled eyebrow raised, "What now?"
"In the alliance you were about to propose against Zeus, we've got Aphrodite too, I'm pretty sure."
He chuckled, "You think I need an alliance? That I was not coming to offer you a favor?" His voice was dark and sharp.
"Yeah, I think you need an alliance. I think you're not even an Olympian, I think if you're here you hate Zeus enough to want him dead and I think that if you could do it on your own it would be done."
He slithered in front of me and regarded me closely. He blinked his dark eyes next to mine, looking at me oddly. Then he threw his head back and laughed uproariously, "Very good, Queen of Death."
I glanced over at Crowley and I gave him a single scrunch faced look. He blinked in understanding. I walked toward Dionysus, stepping between him and Crowley.
"Di," I said with a broad smile, holding one of my hands out wide and welcoming, "Let's go someplace more comfortable and talk about this."
He smiled at me allowed me to lead him to a room down the hall with low and cushioned couches. I sent a servant after tea and cookies. Dionysus settled himself comfortably in a couch, tucking his legs under him, folding his skirt up with practiced ease.
I sat across from him and grinned, Crowley sat next to me, I glanced at him and he gave me the most minute of nods.
"So, what's your end game, Dionysus? Killing Zeus?" I asked boldly.
He laughed derogatorily, "He can't be killed, sweetling, he is an immortal."
"He can be trapped." Crowley said with authority.
Dionysus raised his spikey eyebrow, "Is all of the Underworld populated by unlettered barbarians or just the palace?"
I looked him straight in the eye and replied, "Just the palace, everyone else is quite competent."
Crowley let his fingers brush my knuckles and settled back, smirking, "I am sure he can be trapped," He glanced at me meaningfully, "An old associate of mine has done it."
I realized he meant my father and an enormous rush of pride blossomed for him. Really, Dad, thanks for that, in Winchesterian parlance, You're Awesome.
Dionysus shivered theatrically, "I think I am going to enjoy working with you."
"I'm sure you are." Crowley said smoothly.
The servant returned and Dionysus took a cookie happily, "I can find the incantation we need, I have a number of priests who dabble in the magic of binding. It's going to require blood."
"What blood?" I asked.
"The willing blood of a human unthreatened." His thin brow creased, "If it is anything like the incantations that bind other gods. And something of his."
I shrugged, "The blood I can get. I know who to ask."
He munched his cookie, "Then are we agreed? Call me when you have the blood." He rose.
Crowley raised an eyebrow, "Not quite so quick, Dionysus, we still need to discuss repayment."
A darkness settled in his eyes, "Repayment?" he asked coldly.
"There's no reason for us to work with you. We could stop this war now, he can't get into Hell and he knows it and by the howling of a thousand hellhounds, we don't want Olympus. So how will you make it worth our trouble?"
I resisted nudging Crowley uncertainly. It sounded like picking a fight with our only ally, but Hell, this seemed like his thing.
Dionysus spoke next in a rough snarl, "I won't allow you to act as though I am doing you a favor." He said snakilly, "I will repay you NOTHING!"
Vines had begun to crawl down the sides of the room. Crowley, looking bored, snapped his fingers and they lit aflame, curling back. Dionysus looked about stubbornly but a bit less sure.
Crowley shrugged nonchalantly, "If you don't want Hell's assistance, then I believe this meeting has reached its end. Darling," he said, turning to me, "why don't you go find Gabe and we can take a walk in the courtyard before dinner."
I put a staying hand on Crowley's shoulder and gave him tenderly chiding eyes, I turned slightly to Dionysus, "Oh, he meant to disrespect, Dionysus, would you be requiring hospitality? It would be our pleasure to have you as a guest."
His glower broke into a mad grin, "I do like you, my Lady Queen. But I do not need your favors." He rose, licked his fingers clean of cookie and began to leave. I rose and put a hand on his arm, stopping him gently. His skin was scorching to the touch.
"Stay, Dionysus. You have been travelling for a long time." I used my softest voice.
He paused and considered. In a different voice, a voice free of theatrics and pomp, he said, "Its seems as though I have always been travelling."
"You must be very tired." I soothed, "You are welcome here, we will not chase you out, wouldn't it be nice to rest?"
His face was softening, the angles becoming less extreme, "I have not…not in so long…I have not had a….."
I gave him a tender smile and rolled the dice, "Make a home here."
His eyes blinked and wavered, "I wouldn't- "
"You would not be the first to come here for sanctuary. You are welcome as long as you wish."
He looked back and forth between me and the door, "The boy he spoke of, Gabriel…he is your son?"
I allowed my face to melt, "A young angel out of Jerusalem."
He straightened and looked down his incredibly thin nose at me, "I require sanctuary."
I patted his shoulder, "Dinner is in an hour," then I sashayed out of the room, followed closely by Crowley. I turned to one of the servants waiting outside the door, "Show Dionysus to a room, would you?" Then Crowley and I walked silently and in step to the relative safety of our room.
The door clicked closed and I turned to him, already laughing.
I mimicked his gravely, accented voice, "We need to talk about repayment, fuck your vines, you owe us."
He replied in a high pitched screech dripping in fake sweetness, "You look so lost and lonely, do you need a new HellMother?"
We dissolved into laughter, then he looked at me with fondness, "This ruling Hell business is quite a bit more fun with you."
I took his collar gently in my hands and, for the first time since I had been captured by Zeus, kissed him softly. He wrapped his hands around my waist securely. I leaned my forehead against his and nuzzled him, "Of course it is, you dolt, I'm a delight."
AN: Sorry that took so LONG. To be honest it took me forever to get Dionysus right. I did my undergraduate thesis on him and I felt like I was!letting him down if I didn't nail it. So sorry about the wait, I was under self induced duress. Let me know what you thought of him! AND EVERYTHING ELSE!