AnimeWriterTycoonGirl: Hello everyone! I'm back! I'm so flattered by everyone's praises on the last chapter. Forgive me for taking so long to write this one. Anyhow, I've tried to make a goal of writing at least 10,000 words per chapter. It's long, but this story isn't going to have as many chapters as, say, AO. Of course, it's going to move much faster. So let's get back to it!
Chapter Warnings: Slight angst, hilarity, flirting/courting, Second Date! tiny history lesson, boost of self-esteem, swearing (Panthera strikes back), cuteness
Chapter IV
…
Isidore stood in front of his family home, unsure how to explain his sudden fortune. Should he outright admit to be courted by a god? It wasn't unusual for the gods to take human lovers (Gaia knows how many Zeus has taken over the years), but he still struggled with knowing a god fancied him.
"I'm home," he called out as he walked in. Iason looked up from his herbs in surprise.
"Isidore! Is everything alright? Was there trouble in the city?" He asked, troubled by how quickly his son had returned. They hadn't expected him back for another two or three days.
The farmer smiled gently. "Everything is…wonderful," he admitted. He still wasn't sure if he should explain everything all at once, so he began with the lesser of the great news. "I sold practically everything within two days. I was even able to purchase some necessities afterwards."
Iason was overjoyed at the news, and impressed by the comfortable looking quilt his son showed him; Mannara would love the gift and the whole family would relax knowing she'd be comfortable during the colder months.
"By Zeus though…I've never seen you bring back so much coin!" he announced, eyes wide at the (much larger) money pouch filled nearly to the brim. "My boy, which god did you pray to in order for such fortune to smile down upon us?" he asked, utterly astonished.
Isidore chuckled softly. "Quite a few honestly. Naturally I prayed to Athena," he began. Iason nodded; he knew his son chose her as his patron. "But I also prayed to the god of luck and even Aether." He added, cleverly realizing how he can bring up the potion (safely hidden in his clothes) which would answer all their prayers.
Iason squinted in confusion. "Aether? The god of light? I…don't quite understand," he managed, clearly confused. He's prayed to many gods himself, but he's never honestly thought to pray to the god of light for anything before.
Isidore held out his hands. "He is more than the god of light father," he countered. "Aether is also the god connected to dedication. My desire to care for our family spoke to him, and he even commended me in the flesh for my resolution." He declared, pulling out Aether…no…Grimmjow's amulet as proof.
Iason's eyes were almost the size of plates once he gazed upon the grand necklace. "My son was blessed by a god…" he breathed out in astonishment.
Isidore's smile widened. "There is even better news," he admitted, pulling out the precious potion. "He commended my commitment to our family, and upon hearing my plea to save mother, commissioned Asclepius to create a cure. Mother will live!"
With trembling hands, Iason received the potion from his son, before promptly falling to his knees in reverence. "By the heavens…a truer miracle could not be conceived!"
The two men laughed at their new fortune before launching into a quick discussion of how to break the news to the women of the house. They agreed to share the news over dinner, and present the potion to the ailing matriarch then and there.
Isidore could hardly hold his excitement when for when dinner finally rolled around later that night. He had gone back to his olive trees to check their condition, and smiled when he saw a cluster of bright blue irises, the same as the ones left in his room, had been placed at the bottom of one of his trees.
They looked so much like the god's true hair and eyes, he thought to himself as he tenderly cradled the bouquet. He sighed, and placed them carefully in the shade before returning to his work of tending his trees.
Later that afternoon, he returned the oxen to Claas, who he proudly shared the secret behind his new amulet. Unlike with his father, he shared the courting interest as well.
Claas blinked in surprise and stroked his beard. "By the gods above and below, this is incredible!" he exclaimed, a small feat for a man normally so unperturbed. "I must apologize; Isidore, I should have never doubted your premonitions." He added with a guilty smile.
The redheaded farmer laughed and waved his hand. "Think nothing of it, we have prospered despite the doubts after all," he soothed. It was almost impossible for bring his mood down today. Too many wonderful things went on.
Claas nodded, smiling as well. "Indeed. To think after all these years of feeling undesirable, you would be courted by a god. A powerful, ancient one at that. Such an honor can never be taken lightly." He praised.
Isidore chuckled, ruffling his trademark hair. "Indeed, and to think there are even others out there who share my strange coloring. It is a great relief to know I was not cursed by a wicked spirit or demon of any sorts." He admitted.
Claas gave him a soft look. "Isidore, you are far too good a person to have been cursed by a spirit." He said warmly. "Is your new fortune not proof enough? To hold the favor of a god speaks highly of what your character proves. I could not be happier for you, my friend."
Isidore's smile seemed permanently etched to his face. "Thank you kindly for your words, Claas. I am lucky to have such a caring friend such as yourself."
Claas's face warmed slightly; the gentle giant was very humble. "Ah, I suppose now would be a fortuitous time to give you Herms. We never did complete my part of the trade." He realized.
Isidore hummed. "Oh! I completely forgot about him. Are you really, truly sure you want to give him to our family?" he asked, just to be 100 percent sure. Claas huffed and gave him a look. "Alright, alright! I had to ask!" he insisted, laughing at his friend's exasperation.
The mixed blooded man sighed. "Only you would try to back out of a trade for your benefit," he accused lightly, to which the farmer looked away with a guilty expression. "Cannot be helped I suppose; it's your nature to be wary of asking for too much. I wonder how this godly suitor of yours will handle that."
Isidore chuckled awkwardly. "Very persistently so far. While under the guise of a human, he chastised me often for overlooking my own health or interests for the sake of money or my family," he admitted. "He traded many valuable things to me for far less than they were worth, similar to you, I might note."
Claas laughed. "True, but I never secretly intended to court you from the process," he teased, earning a hard punch to his arm. "Though I can guess why he would do so. I do not believe he was trying to flaunt his wealthy by trading carelessly. He wanted to aid you with material things to prove himself as a caretaker. Even a god wishes to prove their worth to those they care for." He reasoned.
Isidore crossed his arms, the pendent brushing against them. "I suppose, but I've always been poor. I have no desire for shows of excessive wealth through materialistic displays or anything like that. I'm happy with bare needs." He pointed out.
Grimmjow, who had been watching his new consort from afar, listened carefully to the conversation. So…his lover wasn't about glitz and glam? That's fine; he knew several courting measures he could take without going overboard with gifts that would overwhelm the humble man.
Come to think of it, Isidore seemed like the person who would appreciate personal and well thought out acts over flashy displays. Being without money left him understandably mindful of it, yet he wasn't consumed by need of it.
He was more flattered by the thoughtful gifts Mikolas had given him for the sake of his family. He already knew he wanted to give Isidore's family the rewards they deserved, such offering his sister the chance to work her dream craft and a better home. As a result, he believed doing so would end in his favor to further court his beautiful redhead.
"To be honest, I simply take relief that I was capable of attracting someone's attention," Isidore said, bringing Grimmjow out of his musing. "So many years of being warily judged for my strange appearance left me less than proud of myself, as you well know." Isidore added, a sad smile reappearing.
Grimmjow frowned; he was doubting his appeal yet again. What would it take for his little redhead to stop loathing himself? Immediately after the thought, an idea crossed the immortal's mind, and he bit back a chuckle. Let the boy wallow for now; he'll have no reason to do so in the very near future.
Claas seemed to feel the same way. "Isidore, again I ask is this not proof of your worth?" he reminded, a frown setting on his face. "Why would a god waste his time wooing a person they had no interest in? Clearly, the great Aether believes you are worthy of his time and attention, lest he have simply answered your prayers for healing and left from there." He pointed out.
Oh, if he wasn't hiding himself, he'd give the man a hearty slap on the back, offer him fine ale and loudly agree with him, Grimmjow thought with a wry smile. Few as his friends may be, Isidore had loyal companions.
Of course, that was easier said than done. More than two decades of isolation and being branded the black sheep of society left him constantly demeaning himself and doubting his values. The deity knew it would be impossible to remove Isidore's paranoia and low self esteem in one night, hell, it might take a few years to truly overcome his doubts.
He would start tonight though. His courtship will plant the seeds of self-worth in his new beloved. It might take some time for the youth to adjust to his methods, but rest assured, the boy would learn to love himself for his unique beauty and talents the way Grimmjow did.
…..
Isidore returned home later that day with Herms in tow. The grouchy goat walked with a surprising spring to his step for his age, and the farmer thought back to its former owner, how Claas scolded him over and over to not question his own good fortune.
He wondered if Aeth…Grimmjow would have scolded him as well he thought sheepishly as he tied the goat to his new home.
That night, everyone rejoiced their overall good fortunes with the cure immediately given to Mannara during dinner. Karin and Yalena kept pestering him, trying to coax more information about the god who visited his dreams and then traveled with him to Syracuse. They were still so young, he thought fondly as he laid in his cot.
Perhaps he would take advantage of his consortship to plead with his god to ensure his sisters met good men to marry. They would be old enough within a year or so. Hm…his god…he somewhat enjoyed the notion that Grimmjow was exclusively his, despite how selfish it sounded. Bah, he's earned some selfishness, he wagered, before he relaxed and allowed himself to fall asleep.
However, instead of his normal dreamless sleep, he found himself in what appeared to be a grassy plain, with the ocean stretched out in front of him. How he knew it was the ocean he wasn't sure, but he knew it was. The sun apparently hasn't set yet, though he swore it had.
"Beautiful, isn't it?" a familiar voice called out behind him. Isidore whipped around in shock, revealing the god of light in all his glory. Grimmjow chuckled at the mortal's confused expression.
"Grim…jow…" he managed slowly, wincing at the poor pronunciation. "Where are we?" he asked, trying to ignore the ancient god's snort of amusement.
Grimmjow couldn't help himself: his consort was so damned cute trying and failing to say his real name. "We're in what the natives of this island call Eire [AN: Ireland BC]. It's far cooler than Crete so I took the liberty to give you more appropriate clothing." He explained, almost in apology for intruding on him.
Isidore blinked and looked down. He wore strange, brightly colored garments. The tunic was familiar in pattern, but it was a color that imitated the ground, a bright shade of green that reached his thighs. The bottom garments were unusual in texture and a color much darker than Grimmjow's hair. Wrapped around him was a cloak lined with warm fur, though he could not place it.
When he looked up, Isidore realized Grimmjow had changed his clothing as well. A cloak the color of blood graced his muscular frame, and he wore dark leggings that clung to his skin. Belatedly, he realized the god was grinning at him, giving him a once over as well.
The farmer coughed and glanced away in unease. "I appreciate your consideration. However, why are we here?" he asked, taking in the expanse of water once again.
The god chuckled. "We are here, because there is something I dearly want you to see. I believe you will find yourself enamored with this isle despite its foreignness," he offered, conjuring his, very cross, twin back in stallion form.
Isidore's eyes lit up. "Ah! Your stallion!" he cried out cheerfully, happily rubbing the horse's snout, which Panthera encouraged enthusiastically.
'Told you he'd miss me, asshole,' The darker god muttered to his other half, which Grimmjow dutifully ignored.
"He truly has taken a liking to you. Less than a day, and he persisted and whined for your company." The light god explained. And how…the bastard bitched at him to no end about how unfairly he banished him without a proper goodbye.
Isidore laughed as he embraced the horse by the neck. "Nonsense; a beautiful beast such as this cannot be so childish." He announced, to which Panthera preened.
'Baby Boy already likes me more,' the horse shifted god taunted in a sing-song voice. 'Take that you self-absorbed fucker!' he snorted as he purposely drew out a long lick against the farmer's neck.
Grimmjow's eye twitched at the baiting and coolly put himself between their soulmate and his lecherous brother. "Trust me, even a seasoned stallion can be found to brood. But let us not waste too much time. The sun will set if we linger too long." He suggested, helping his beloved onto the horse's back.
Some telepathic threats had to be made, a quiet war between the brothers as Panthera childishly refused to let Grimmjow climb on, still sore about being left out earlier. Isidore couldn't help but laugh at the god's frustration; even gods could feel it, he supposed.
"You clearly can use magic to take us anywhere, why did you insist on bringing Panthera once again if you have that power in the first place?" he asked in amusement.
Grimmjow huffed before pinning his brother with a look. "True this may be, I felt you would appreciate the scenery of a new country before we reach our destination and again, the horse was fond of you, so I took his pleas into consideration." He answered somewhat curtly, mostly towards his unruly other half.
Panthera snorted, feeling thoroughly chastised, allowed the god onto his back with a halfhearted apology.
Isidore chuckled, oblivious to it all. "I take it you can understand the language of animals then?" he asked as they set off.
"Hmm? Ah, I suppose so," He hummed. "Most gods can understand the tongue of all creatures, with a few exceptions. I believe a few child gods are actually better at the craft since they have less responsibilities and tend to listen to creatures more sincerely."
"I suppose that makes sense. As a god, you would need to understand all people's speech to answer their prayers," Isidore reflected as he did, in fact, appreciate the scenery around him.
For a while, god and man were silent as they walked through the lush forests, so different from the landscape Isidore was used to in Crete. The only sounds were that of nature around them and the steady footfall of Panthera's hooves.
"…So as the god of light, you must travel to countless countries to perform your work, yes?" Isidore asked suddenly. Grimmjow quirked an eyebrow at the odd question.
"Indeed, but not for that reason. I am god of light, but my job is mostly providing the heavenly air for the other immortals and gods in our residence above the clouds. Apollo is the one who carries the light for you mortals to see. Why?" he asked cautiously.
The farmer shrugged. "I was just thinking back to those stories you regaled me with disguised as a human. I can't help but yearn to have such worldly experiences." He admitted.
Grimmjow chuckled as he tugged the mortal closer to his chest. "Fear not…I can make that desire a reality. This is not be the only country outside of Greece I will take you to. Rest assured of that." He said warmly.
Isidore became flustered briefly at being pressed so close to the ancient being, but upon feeling how warm he was, and how comfortable the sensation made him, relented with a soft sigh.
"What is your favorite country, Grimm...jow?" he asked shyly. Saying his name was still a struggle, but it was becoming easier over time.
The deity laughed. "Such a difficult question! There are so many, and they all have endearing qualities with different kinds of people and personalities and cultures throughout the years," he deflected jovially before a devious grin spread while Isidore couldn't see. "Though I would have to say, I'm feeling rather particular to Crete at the moment."
As he revealed his thoughts, the god gently took Isidore's left hand, turned it inward toward him, and kissed the inside of his wrist.
Flushed a brilliant shade of red, Isidore coughed loudly to try and hide his embarrassment, albeit poorly. Despite this, he never attempted to remove the god's grip from his hand.
…
The three soon made their way to a strange town where the homes and buildings seemed to be built directly into the earth and shaped like circles. Grimmjow explained that building the homes into the dirt helped the inhabitants stay warm in the winters and cool in the summers. It made sense, though they still looked so bizarre.
Soon, they grew close enough that they could soon see people. Isidore gulped, suddenly feeling self-conscious.
"What is wrong, Isidore?" Grimmjow asked, noticing how tense he had become.
"…" the farmer couldn't speak, instead finally pulling away from Grimmjow to cover his head with the hood attached to the cloak. Grimmjow understood and chuckled, pulling the hood off.
"No, no…there is no need for that. Take a good look at the inhibitors of this land." He admonished softly with a smile.
Reluctantly, the farmer did as the god requested, and his eyes widened in shock.
In the not so distance, a small group of children were playing a game of sorts. They wore the same strange garments as the two men were, only not so brightly colored or lined with furs, which must mean they were either peasant children, or did not see the need to wear such.
What really caught his eye, however, was their hair coloring. Some of the children had hair either the right shade of gold or just a touch or so lighter, reminding him of the early morning sun. Such brightly colored hair was rare to him, and he could not help but find it stunning.
However, what really surprised him were the many children who had hair exactly like his. Various shades of red-yellow flitted across the fields as the children happily played their game. Some were girls, and their hair was long and decorated with various flowers or even braided in intricate styles. The boys wore their hair in a circular fashion, both the golden haired and the red-yellow ones.
The strangest thing of all was the lack of fear or sadness in the children with the unusual colored hair. They laughed. They played. They sang and dance with the other children without persecution. Moreover, the other children did not shun or mock them for their unusual colors. Isidore watched with wide eyes as he realized exactly why Grimmjow brought him to the country of Eire.
"You wished to cut down my sadness over my strange hair coloring by showing it isn't so strange after all, didn't you?" he breathed, turning towards the god only to blink in surprise.
Grimmjow had slightly changed his features to blend into the country better. His skin was slightly paler, and he now sported a pale gold hair coloring with accompanying facial hair. His hair was much longer now, and plaited not un-similar to the way the children wore theirs.
Isidore blinked in surprise. "Eh? You changed so quickly." He muttered in awe. Grimmjow chuckled. Isidore hadn't noticed he too changed; Grimmjow gently lightened his skin to blend in better.
"My power to transform is infinite so I may blend into whichever culture I traverse to," the primordial god explained. "It would not do to appear with darker skin and hair. Such coloring is considered a savage here. In fact, you are a better foreigner here than say, your friend Claas, who would be feared for his darker appearance."
Isidore was in awe once more. "Ah, wait! How did you know about Claas? I don't believe I spoke about him to you." He asked in surprise.
Grimmjow briefly panicked; shit, Isidore would definitely feel uncomfortable knowing he was watched in secret. "Ah, but you did: you simply thought I was Mikolas, remember? I asked you about your family and friends and he was the one who loaned you the oxen, am I correct?" he smoothly corrected, despite Isidore never actually mentioning Claas's name during the trip.
Isidore blinked in surprise. Ah, that must have happened. He simply did not remember. Sheepishly the human apologized and turned back to the children. "Still, I cannot believe you did all this for me." He admitted.
"How did…how did you know this vexatious hair was bothering me?" he managed to ask softly.
Grimmjow smiled and patted the young man on the shoulder. "You are my soulmate, I won't have you cursing the gifts you were blessed with. This 'vexatious hair' is nothing of the sort," he declared, running his hand gently through it to prove his point.
Isidore flinched at the initial touch, but upon realizing there was no pain following, held still as Grimmjow continued to shower praise upon him, never once removing his hand from his hair.
"You are handsome in a way no other Grecian man can imitate," Grimmjow continued. "Humans tend to either eschew or venerate the extraordinary. The gods are admired for their power despite their appearances, and the ordinary man with unusual or rare gifts can be spurned in misguided fear."
Here he chuckled. "Tell me, were you disgusted by my true appearance? My hair matches the color of the sky after all. Far more bizarre than you could ever be seen as," he teased.
Isidore turned to him in alarm, forcing the god to remove his hand from his hair lest he accidentally harm him. "Never! The color, though admittedly never seen before, is stunning on you!" he insisted, sincerity in his eyes. "It suits you far more than when you approached me as Mikolas, and even then, you were beautiful!" he added, looking away in slight embarrassment after his outburst.
Grimmjow felt a surge of pride and endearment for his lover, who blatantly admitted his wholehearted attraction to him and kissed his love's side of the neck, causing the man to sputter in surprise.
'Tch,' Panthera chuckled darkly. 'He thinks your fairy-looking ass looks good, wait till he sees this drop-dead gorgeous package,' he taunted, only to snort in pain when Grimmjow roughly squeezed his sides with his legs, Isidore blissfully unaware.
"You are feared in Greece for your unusual coloring, but here, you are no different from anyone else, if not tanned from exposure to the sun," he continued, ignoring Panthera's darkly growled out, 'Fucker.' "What is strange and frightening in one place is normal or even desired in another. You have no reason to be ashamed of who you are, Isidore. Make no mistake on this." Grimmjow said seriously, though his eyes were kind.
Isidore felt a burning in his eyes and he turned away to furiously wipe at them. He couldn't cry. He hadn't cried in years. Crying was weakness, and he'd be damned if he cried in front of another person, much less an all-powerful deity.
Thankfully, Grimmjow seemed to understand, and he simply squeezed the mortal's shoulder, and a peaceful moment passed while Isidore recollected himself. "Would you like to get closer? Worry not about the language barrier; I will guide you if needed." The god promised.
Isidore looked longingly at the children; he had never had a childhood to speak of due to his neighbors being frightened of him. "Can we?" he asked hopefully.
There was so much he wanted to learn and explore. Were there adults here that looked like him? What other things were there to be seen? Were there other cultures similar to this one? How come the scenery was so vividly colored? So many questions swirled within his mind, and the curious mortal excitedly yearned to find the answers.
Sensing his mortal lover's enthusiasm, Grimmjow chuckled and urged Panthera forward. The darkness god was tempted to drop his brother's ass and run off with their shared love, but the youth nestled himself closer to the god with a warm smile on his face, much to Panthera's disappointment.
Meanwhile, the children who were playing in the field stopped upon seeing the magnificent horse.
"By Dagda! I've never seen such a glorious beast!" one of them exclaimed loudly, his eyes shining with wonder. Isidore was in awe at the child's tone; it was light and musical, but the strangest part was he could understand him perfectly.
Grimmjow laughed heartily as he eased the three of them to a halt. "Quite a beast isn't he lad?" he answered, his voice taking on that strange melodious sound. "Still quite the youth though, so don't go prodding where you shouldn't!" he warned.
Panthera held quite still as the boys awed over his size and the girls shyly touched his pure black coat. He hardly minded; he actually had a bit of a soft spot for kids. Him and Grimmjow for that matter. They were mostly innocent creatures, and their lightheartedness drew both gods in, refreshed by their purity and lamenting the knowledge several could end up in the underworld as cursed souls.
"Does he have a name, great chieftain?" another child asked as he too braved a touch.
Grimmjow chuckled at the title. "Aye, but he doesn't belong to a chieftain, that's for darned sure." He teased as he slid off the horse and offered a hand to the still stunned Isidore. "Nay, he's but the horse of a humble warrior like myself." He offered modestly.
Isidore idly noted how easy it was for Grimmjow to spin such tales with ease. Now it made sense why he was easily allured by Mikolas' tales. With a start he noticed some of the children were staring at him.
'Feel free to speak to them, Isidore. I have ensured you can understand and speak their tongue while we are here.' Grimmjow mentally soothed him while continuing to talk about some great battles he's seen to the boys.
Several of them seemed to be scrutinizing him. "You don't seem to be a warrior sir," one girl with hair just like his took note. "What skills do you have?" she asked, a small frown of curiosity on her face.
Isidore smiled softly, and trusted Grimmjow's words. "Indeed. I am not a warrior." He admitted, the sound strange coming from his throat but effortless in execution. "I am actually a…herder." He wasn't sure what compelled him to say that instead of farmer, but it seemed to fit for this strange world.
Grimmjow nodded behind him. "Indeed! This man raises some of the most powerful horses I've ever seen in my life. He's hired me to come with him to scope out some potential fillies to raise into chariot wielders." He explained.
Chariots? By the gods, he was making them off to sound so wealthy! Isidore blinked in surprise before going along with it. "Yes! Would you happen to know if any mares have reared foals around here?" he asked the young girls with a smile.
The girls tittered with excitement; a herder in their quaint little town, how surprising! The boys seemed equally impressed. A golden-haired boy, however, seemed less enthused.
"There aren't many horses around here. Far too expensive for our village," the boy said sadly. That really put a damper on the rest of the children's' moods; surely the two men would leave now.
Isidore adored children himself; they were less likely to mock his strange hair unless told to by their elders. These kids especially seemed less likely to mock him so.
"What game were you playing just now?" he asked. The light came back to most of their eyes.
"Just a simple game of Rats n' Rabbits*," the redheaded girl piped up. Isidore furrowed his brow and she gasped. "What? Don't tell me you've never heard of it?!" she asked, visibly horrified.
The false herder gave a sheepish look. "No, I can't say I have," he admitted. Even as a child himself, he was excluded from several games. Even if the Greeks had a similar game to this rats and rabbits, he wouldn't have been allowed to join.
The children pulled away to chat amongst themselves. Isidore looked to Grimmjow, who only chuckled and patted the horse on its head. Somehow, to Isidore, it looked like even Panthera was amused. Within moments the ringleader of them all, the tallest boy with hair just his shade gave him quite the serious look.
"We insist you join us. Everyone should play Rats n' Rabbits at least once in their lives!" he said sternly. Apparently, games were taken seriously around this country.
Isidore laughed and agreed. As the children gathered around him to explain the rules, Grimmjow had a quiet conversation with his twin.
'This was a good idea; don't you think Pan?' he asked as he leaned against the horse disguised god. As two parts of the same whole, there were plenty of times they got along just fine. This was one of those times.
Panthera snorted, both as a horse and a god. 'I'll say. Look how happy he is. I bet he never got to play games as a child himself.' He noted sadly as he watched Isidore appease the children, who were arguing over whether he should be on Team Rat or Team Rabbit.
The disguised god of light sighed, and nodded. 'Unfortunately, so,' he agreed, smiling for show as the children resumed their game with the red-haired man joining them. 'His early life was filled with cruelty and strife. Such an unfitting fate for one named Strong Gift.' he noted quietly.
Panthera shook his head. 'Nah, I think it's the opposite, brother of mine,' he argued. 'He persevered despite the cruelty and even rose above becoming someone embittered with hatred to others. He mistrusts many people yes, but overall, he's kind and generous to a fault. He lives up to his name in full.' The darker deity decided.
Grimmjow tore his eyes away from his lover to gaze into his brother's visage, which he could see beyond the horse façade. "You've grown so much in the course of a mortal week Pan," he noted out loud. No one else would have noticed; the children and Isidore were having far too much fun playing their game.
Panthera ducked his head, slightly embarrassed. 'The fuck you talking about? I've always been flawless,' he bragged with false courage. The light deity pointedly did not call him out on it. The 'horse' pawed at the ground. 'Maybe I want to meet him too. The right way…not as a damned transportation service.' He admitted.
Grimmjow sighed sadly, his heart sinking for the sake of his brother. 'I know you do Pan. I'm not trying to be greedy,' he soothed, rubbing the top of his twin's head. 'Give me just a bit more time. I want him to be comfortable before I throw the shock of having not one god lover, but two. Not many humans entertain the thought of having two lovers. It's a practice done only by the incredibly wealthy in some cultures, and even then, it's not practiced often.' He pointed out.
Panthera hummed quietly, both brothers grinning as Isidore dramatically fell, captured by the Rats, laughing loudly as he did. 'Yeah, stupid human ethics and modesty rules.' He grumbled, still amused by the games playing out in front of him. 'Grim…You think he'll be scared of me?' he asked softly.
The primordial god of light's smile faded as he processed his brother's question. 'Don't talk like that,' he chastised. 'I said he'd be scared of you without a chance to get comfortable with the life of a divine soulmate. Everything is too new and strange for him right now. I don't want to overwhelm him and well…you have a knack for doing just that Pan.' He reasoned.
The god in disguise ducked his head again, knowing fully well he did tend to go overboard with plenty of things, before looking back at their shared lover. 'I know…but maybe he'll see past my job and appearance,' he thought hopefully before grinning. 'Who knows? Maybe he'll decide I'm the better twin.' He teased as Isidore joined the Rats this time.
'Fuck you, and to think I was feeling sympathetic to you right now.' Grimmjow snorted. Panthera snickered.
'Fucking a horse?' he asked in mock horror. 'You take your Western culture changes so seriously!' he teased as the other god gave him a deadpan look.
'This is Eire, idiot! Loki is a Norse god and you know damn well I don't take that title, dumbass.' He hissed out as the games seemed to be coming to a close. Panthera just laughed from his equine veneer.
Meanwhile, Isidore was having a wonderful time. The game was rather simple; one team chased the other and tried to capture all the members unless someone shouted the opposite team's mascot and started over. The children insisted he play on both sides to see which he liked better.
Grimmjow clapped his hands once it seemed the group was taking a short breather. "I hate to be the bearer of bad new, sire, but we should head into town to gather supplies and get back to our journey. Night will fall soon enough," he suggested, taking back his warrior persona.
The children whined and begged for one more game, but Isidore simply smiled, thanked them for including him and insisted it was the best game he's ever played. Begrudgingly they waved the three of them off as they drew closer to the village.
Isidore chuckled as he waved at the children. "That truly was the most fun I've had playing a simple game." He said earnestly. He was panting lightly from the exertion, a thin sheen of sweat on his brow, but it only made him appear to glow with his enchanting smile.
Grimmjow laughed. "Glad to hear it. It was certainly worth it to see you having fun as you did. You are quite popular with the children around here," he teased, as some of the kids chased after them for a few feet to wave farewell just a little longer.
Isidore rubbed the back of his head, slightly abashed. "I had no idea how much fun it could be to be like a child. It was nice. They seemed to like you as well, so enthralled with your warrior tales," He teased before a thought came to him. "Say, Grimm…jow…how do you feel about children honestly?" he asked, offering his best innocent curiosity look.
Grimmjow had the decency to look guilty about spinning wild tales again before he registered Isidore's question. "Hmm? I enjoy their games and imagination as much as the next person I suppose. Why do you ask?" he tilted his head in slight confusion.
Quietly filing the adorable image away for later, Isidore looked down at Panthera's mane. "Do you…have any?" he asked quietly. He wasn't sure why, but he dreaded the answer, yet he had to know at the same time.
Understanding dawned on Grimmjow and he heaved a sigh. The dreaded ex talk, he realized with a small smile and shook his head. "I'm afraid not. I am a rather solitary god. I have never taken much interest in looking for temporary affairs, so I have no children to call my own." He answered honestly. "Though some Greeks seem to believe I fathered Ouranos for some bizarre reason," he added as an afterthought.
The god of light fathering the god of the sky. Heh…just because they worked together hardly meant they were kin of that sort.
Panthera snorted so strongly even Isidore took notice. 'Takes sex to have kids, doesn't it?' he snickered.
Grimmjow gave a flat look as he flicked the 'horse' across the nose. "Must have gotten something into his nose, this troublesome one," he offered nonchalantly to his lover, much to Panthera's aggravation.
'One word: Athena.' He growled mentally to his brother. The horse shook its mane and said nothing, though it was clear he was fuming.
Yeah, Sunnera actually was born from the head of her father. It was too weird not to share, even among the gods.
Isidore, always unaware of the internal arguments taking place, hushed the horse who showed his agitation. "Poor thing. You didn't have to flick his nose like that," he scolded lightly. He always had a softer spot for the innocent creatures, like animals and children.
Panthera remained smug for the rest of the journey into the town.
Isidore was just as amazed with the village as he was its youngest inhabitants. There were so many people who…really did look like him! They were craftsmen and traders, farmers and barterers, and above all, they were friendly.
Being blessed with their tongue, if only temporary, Isidore was happy to chat and ask about their culture. Grimmjow spun a tale of them being surveyors from the neighboring country and looking for potential trade allies.
Several merchants came forward with possible items of trade. Isidore briefly feared taking their gifts without having anything to offer back, but the immortal was prepared for that too, producing bottles of wine as a means of trade from Panthera's saddle. From the looks of excitement on the villagers' faces, wine was incredibly valuable here.
In the end, Grimmjow looked to him to make a choice, which flustered the farmer as he looked over their offerings once more. Some offered clothing, with intricate knots and patterns in the cloth. It looked delicate but practical. He approved of that. Many of them had gorgeous metalwork to offer, including jewelry and tools. In fact, it was the tools that caught his eye the most.
Isidore asked the man holding the strange weapon if he could examine it closer. The metalworker proudly handed over the sickle with the beautiful design carved into it. It was artfully crafted, and he ran his finger across the knot styled designs.
Grimmjow watched his awe with a smile. That was it then, he admired unique and personally made goods. This had been his motivation for letting Isidore choose the gifts to trade the wine for.
Overall, Isidore chose the sickle, some jewelry for his mother and one jewel colored blanket he planned to give to his sisters (they shared a bed) for four bottles of wine. Grimmjow assured him quietly the trade had been fair.
The villagers certainly seemed pleased, and begged the men to join them for a feast. Grimmjow heartily agreed for them, and as the men and women rushed about preparing their meal. The sun began to disappear into the ground, which reminded Isidore of his earlier question.
"Grimmjow," he whispered, as they lead Panthera to wait with other horses (Grimmjow growling at his brother not to do anything stupid in secret). "How is it the sun disappears once again when it had set in Crete?" he asked.
Grimmjow chuckled. Ah, so he noticed. "The world is not a flat plane, Isidore," he explained. "It is round, so light touches the world very differently everywhere. Why, in the truly far east, it will be almost morning by now." He pointed out to his wide-eyed lover.
Isidore held on to every word, always eager to learn. "Amazing. The world is far larger than I imagined." He admitted. He looked back to the village. "Clearly so. To think there would be so many people like me, yet they are hardly hindered by it at all." He muttered softly.
Grimmjow stroked the very hair he was pondering about. "Did I not tell you so? You were blessed with beautiful features, whether the Greeks agree or not, I know it to be true. I'm not the only one who thinks this it seems," he grinned, gesturing to some young female villagers who were tittering amongst themselves and looking at the redhaired man.
Isidore glanced in their direction and they blushed and giggled, some daring to smile directly at him. He was at a lost. "Are…you are sure they aren't looking at you?" he asked feebly. So much sudden attention was disconcerting.
The god shook his head and slapped the stunned farmer on the back, gently, with a laugh. "Give yourself some credit Isidore!" he chuckled as the youth stumbled anyways out of surprise. "You are quite easy on the eyes, especially in this country. Isn't that why I brought you here?" his eyes softened. "You are now someone very special to me. I won't have you doubting your self-worth because of your past. I am here now. I will always protect you from now on." He swore.
Isidore smiled, feeling warm all over. "You swear?" he asked sheepishly. It was a risk, asking so much from such a powerful being.
Grimmjow placed a warm hand on his shoulder. "I do." He vowed seriously. The two men gazed into each other's eyes, looking for any hint of doubt. Neither could find it, so they turned back to the villagers, who coaxed them into a large circular building which was enough to hold all of them.
Having eaten light at dinner, Isidore was willing to all of the food the Celtic people had to offer. He especially liked the salted meat [ham] despite not usually eating much meat outside of fish and chicken. He noted that the men and women here did not water down their wine, so despite feeling barbaric, he followed suit to avoid seeming rude.
He laughed and talked amongst the farmers and herders, trading methods of cultivating animals and fruits, though Grimmjow warned him they would not recognize olives. He simply changed the story to growing grapes, which were similar enough in theory.
During this time, the children from before approached him, and a young girl shyly handed him a braided flower bracelet and ran off. An older man guffawed at his surprised look.
"It seems the little lasses around here have a fondness for you. Those bracelets take several days to make you know." He slurred, already drunk from the wine and other alcohols shared during the feast.
Isidore, not wanting to offend anyone, thanked the man and carefully put it on, admiring the work put into it. The flowers were dried carefully, so it would not fade or shrivel up after a few days. No wonder it was considered a time-consuming piece, Isidore noted. However, given the coy looks he was receiving from the women not too far away, he fretted it might have been a mistake.
Grimmjow took this as a chance to laugh loudly. "Oi, you better not let your woman see that when you get home!" he warned jokingly. "Feisty temper that girl has." He added.
Isidore breathed a sigh of relief as the women looked disappointed in his apparently married status. "Her passion is what makes her lovely," he argued, trying and failing not to smile as he defended his fake wife.
The meal went on, talking and laughing and more. As the night fell upon them and the children were sent off to bed, Grimmjow pulled himself and the far more sociable Isidore away, insisting they had to be at a certain town by sunrise and thanked them for the hospitality.
Isidore was noticeably drunk by time Grimmjow coaxed him into climbing back onto Panthera's back. He was far more relaxed, and even a little giggly and hands on, much to Grimmjow's amusement. His lover was the touchy feeling sort of drunk, it would seem.
Isidore giggled to himself as he turned himself around on the horse to face Grimmjow. Panthera snorted as the young farmer stumbled slightly, before setting off at a slow trot. 'If this is what normal wine does to him, imagine what some divine wine will do.' He snickered.
Grimmjow snorted as well, especially as the mortal shamelessly started to run his hands through the primordial god's hair and made his way down, tracing the shape of Grimmjow's bottom lip. The god sat silently with a smile as he allowed his lover to trace and explore the planes of his face, but took action when the mortal made to move through his clothing.
"Ah-ah," he shook his head, grabbing Isidore's hands before he got too far. "Isidore, there is a time and place for such a thing, but not here." He said calmly while the other man pouted. By the heavens wasn't that adorable.
'Fuck that!' Panthera snorted. 'Nothing wrong with an extra bumpy ride on top of the horse!' Grimmjow could hear the grin on his perverted twin's expression.'
'One, that's vile,' Grimmjow countered flatly. 'Two, his first time should be somewhere far more meaningful and finally, there's no way in Tartarus I'm having sex on top of you." He glowered in distain for his twin's raunchiness.
'Damned prude.' The darkness god grumbled once again. They both wondered how they ended up with such a mirror opposite double.
A soft sigh interrupted them as Isidore leaned into Grimmjow's chest. "This night was wonderful." He declared as he played with the bracelet still on his wrist. "I cannot thank you enough for all you have done for me." He said to Grimmjow's collarbone.
The god smiled softly. "I was more than happy to do this for you. Do not feel as though you need to offer anything in return. All I desire is your company, nothing more." He stated sincerely.
That truly was all he wanted. The fact he found his soulmate was more than enough for him to be happy. He didn't need special sacrifices made to him, or gifts made by the farmer. Hell, if Isidore was not comfortable with the idea of having sex with a man, he'd be content with just being with him.
Isidore lifted his head to look at the god. "I miss your hair." He mumbled, still staring at blonde where there should be blue. "It suits you more." He insisted.
Grimmjow quirked an eyebrow and let the glamour fade away, returning to the rich honey skin, electric blue hair and eyes he was known for. "Is this better?" he asked, his voice dropping an octave.
Isidore swallowed thickly and nodded, caught in the god's ultramarine eyes. "Mmhmm." He managed, unable to look away. Unbeknownst to the young consort, his own tan coloring was reverted back as well. This entire time, Isidore had no idea Grimmjow had lightened his skin too.
"Well…I am pleased to know this appearance satisfies you." He teased, lifting the farmer's chin up ever so slightly and dipping his own down to capture his soulmate's lips in their first true kiss.
Isidore felt his whole body light up with warmth and a strange rush he could not describe. Clumsily he reached around to clutch at the deity's back. He pulled away for a moment to catch his breath, and let Grimmjow closer, deepening the kiss. The god's kiss was languid and sweet, yet still managed to bring a fire roaring through his veins. Perhaps this is what Prometheus felt when introduced to the very flames he swore he felt, Isidore managed to think before going blank from pleasure.
Grimmjow felt as light as the atmosphere he reined over. By the Fates, he's waiting so long to have this moment with his perfect half. Isidore tasted like the wine he'd gone drunk off, plus a slightly sweeter taste he was having trouble placing at the moment. Then again, he wasn't trying too hard to recall it, as he explored his mortal lover's mouth with care and utmost attention.
Their sweet moment lasted for mere seconds, but to both mortal and deity, it felt like hours when they finally broke away, Isidore left gasping for breath. Blinking away his daze, he realized the horse they rode had moved them quite far from the village. In fact, he could hardly see it any longer.
Grimmjow noticed as well and sighed. "It would be best to return you to Crete now," he whispered, though Isidore hear him perfectly clear. "I would not want to keep you from your tasks at hand tomorrow. You need your rest." He decided.
Still drunk, both on wine and his passionate moment with the man in front of him, Isidore pleaded for more time. Part of him was scared that none of this was even real, and he had merely dreamt it all.
Grimmjow hushed him with a gentle but firm look. The boy was drunk and simply enjoying himself, no need to scold him harshly, he thought with a smile. "Do not argue with me Isidore," he warned with a grin. "More nights such as this will follow, I assure you. For now, I want you to be well rested." He repeated quietly.
Isidore slumped forward. "Can I be selfish…and ask for just a little longer then?" he begged just as quietly, looking up with pleading hopeful eyes. Ah hell, Grimmjow thought with a tender expression. It was going to be so difficult not spoiling the young man and giving in to his every urge and whim.
Such was the arduous task of being the worldlier of the two and therefore responsible one in this relationship. With a small sigh, the god relented.
"Alright…five more minutes," he agreed, loving the way Isidore's eyes lit up with happiness. He eased the young farmer off Panthera's back (much to the darkness god's dismay) and guided him towards a cliff to view the waves crashing on the distance shoreline.
"So pretty…" he slurred, leaning into Grimmjow's shoulder as they simply stood there. Grimmjow had to agree. The moonlight did wonders for Isidore; his tan skin turned pale and appeared like marble, and his hair appeared to darken in color, but not so much you could mistake it for brown.
"…two more minutes Isidore." He warned, noting the young man was beginning to nod off. not surprising; he should have been asleep in Crete more than two hours ago, not to mention all the added activities, alcohol and heavy food he had here.
The farmer grumbled and tried to move closer to the deity's warmth, but was denied firmly. "Isidore…I gave you the additional time as you requested. It's time to go." He said with utmost conviction, his eyes even flashing a sharper blue.
Isidore looked down at his feet like a petulant child. "Very well," he agreed mournfully. Grimmjow shook his head at his silly consort and tutted softly.
"Ah-ah, shouldn't you bid farewell to Panthera first?" he teased, deciding to give his brother a break (because he was the better twin after all) and actually give him a chance to say goodnight.
Panthera's ears perked up and happily trotted over to his soulmate, who had giggled and agreed it would be rude to leave without bidding the horse farewell. Being forced to parade around as a horse would be all worth it when he could finally touch the pretty redhead the way he wanted to. For now, he would accept all the head strokes and hugs that came with this form.
Isidore smiled brightly as he stroked the horse's pure black neck. "You're such a smart creature Panthera. I hope to see you again soon." He stated, before leaning down to kiss the disguised god right on his nose.
Grimmjow had to swallow down the hysterical laughter threatening to escape; he could see Panthera's true body, and the look on his face was priceless. Wide eyed and mouth agape, the feared ancient god of darkness who struck fear in millions of dead souls…was blushing like a young maiden.
The horse appearance simply stiffened and then shook a little to provide some reaction. The god known as Erebus eventually recovered and retaliated with an eager lick up the young man's throat, which caused Isidore to giggle yet again and irritate the hell out of Grimmjow.
"Alright you two. You've had your fun," Grimmjow said dryly, eyes set at his brother in particular. "Pan, go home." He announced, daring his twin to challenge him.
The horse snorted and turned to leave, walking straight into the forest and melting into the shadows, leaving Isidore in awe.
"Wha-wha…he just…disappeared!" he cried, flabbergasted. Grimmjow chuckled as he pulled the stunned farmer back into his arms, forcing him to look into his eyes.
"He's a creature of darkness. We get along well, so I tend to use him for my more mortal travels should the need arise." He explained smoothly. Technically, it was even the truth. Panthera really would follow him when he would travel around the world in his human guises, just either as a fellow traveler or some other disguise. Being a horse had actually been Pan's idea in the first place.
Isidore itched to look back where the horse had disappeared, but was too drawn in by Grimmjow's gorgeous face and eyes. When he finally could pull himself away, he realized they had been transported out of Eire and back into Crete. More precisely, his bedroom.
Isidore started, and pulled away in slight embarrassment. Not so much for having a man in his room, oh no… he was ashamed at how lowly and poor his room was. Compared to a divine lord of the skies such as Grimmjow, his room must seem paltry and pathetic.
Grimmjow tutted, knowing exactly what he was worried about (the man wore his emotions on his sleeve, especially drunk). "A room is a room, it is meant to hold purpose. I care for you, not the state of your wealth or skill in your trade." He added, looking quite serious.
Isidore smiled meekly; he was so easily found out too. "Forgive me for all my constant doubts, Grimmjow…I am not used to such kindness being directed toward me." He admitted.
Grimmjow sat the farmer onto his bed and stroked down his jaw to his chin, Isidore's eyes unconsciously closing as a result. "You shall never feel unloved ever again Isidore Karousakis," he vowed, eyes flashing bright blue in his promise. "Rest, and enjoy time with your family and friends. I will send a sign when it is time for our next day of courtship." He promised.
Tired and overwhelmed with emotion, Isidore slurred out his farewell and fell asleep near immediately. Brushing some stray hairs out of the exhausted man's face, Grimmjow made to left with a smile on his face.
He arrived in his home to see Panthera was already there, lost in thought. "You're welcome." He said flatly, though it was done with a smirk.
The twins did live together, but they rarely slept at the same times. Their chambers were vastly different from one another, and it showed in their décor. For now, they were in the common space, where they agreed to decorate neutrally in the event of guests.
Panthera jolted in surprise. He hadn't expected Grimmjow to arrive so quickly. "Tch, he would have asked to say goodbye without your help," he countered, though it was hard to find it frightening or intimidating in the least when his face was still partially flushed.
Grimmjow swallowed his retort. It had been a good night overall, no need to end it by fighting. "He really is a wonderful soul." He offered instead with a smile.
A twin smile crept onto his darker twin's face. "Yeah, he's damn near perfect. Hopefully now he won't doubt his beauty and worth anymore." He said wistfully, falling back to land onto a nearby couch before looking back at his twin. "So, any plans for the next courtship date?" he asked, perfectly serious.
Grimmjow hummed as he took a seat himself. "Honestly no," he admitted. "This one had been purely out of whim after all. We'll come up with something by next week."
"Next week?" Panthera whined. He barely got to spend time with his soulmate as it was.
"Patience Pan. He'll be ours for eternity once the courtship is over." Grimmjow soothed before stretching. "I'm going to get some rest. Might be able to come up with something by then." He decided before a grin stretched across his face. "Want me to kiss your nose goodnight?" he teased.
Panthera flushed red once more. "Fuck you, you prick!" he snapped, as Grimmjow left laughing back to his rooms. The god of darkness grumbled at the ribbing before calming down in the privacy of the empty room.
He reached up then, and once again gently touched the spot on his nose where Isidore had kissed him.
Isidore woke the next morning feeling unbelievable refreshed before sitting upright immediately. Last night hadn't been a dream, had it? He looked down. He was back in the clothes he had fallen asleep in before awaking in Eire.
Isidore sighed in disappointment. It had been a dream after all. At least, had thought so until he turned to his small little table, smiling so brightly it almost hurt.
Lying underneath Grimmjow's pendant was the ornately carved sickle, the blanket for his sisters nicely folded and the braided flower bracelet given by the young girl.
AWTG: Woo! Another chapter done before the new year! Hope this was worth the wait! I'm still a little iffy about the next date, but please bear with me! Thank you to everyone who's followed me and this story. I'm already looking forward to the next one.
How was the first date? Let me know if you liked the mini-history lessons. Thanks once again!
~Ciao!
*Rats and Rabbits is technically a modern version, but I do believe there really were games like this played in ancient Ireland. If someone is better versed in ancient Ireland, please feel free to correct me and share the real games the ancient kids used to play.