Bonus Content - Alekto POV

Hey everyone!

As you all voted for, this month's bonus content features Alekto with a hesitant, warm Dionysus. Have a handful of nonsense, with little daubs of both angst and fluff, because it's Alekto.

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For a while, the two of them simply walk through the grasses, enjoying the exercise and the changes to a familiar environment. Not unexpectedly, there are very few words exchanged, and the majority of those are not spoken aloud. Of course, Alekto’s mind is still churning, because of course it is. She has something to tell him, and it’s not going to be an easy thing to say. She wants to, but she has also long learned that sometimes the things you want the most are also the most difficult.

After a while, though, she turns to him with a serious expression, and begins to speak slowly. Not precisely on the topic she wants to get to, but something adjacent, at least. "Do you wish to have your marriage annulled?" she asks. "Hades was going to ask you this, soon, but I requested that I be the first one to broach the topic, because I wanted you to understand the options." She looks to the side for a moment, before her eyes slip back to his. "Obviously, the benefits of an annulment are obvious, but you should also consider the protection the marriage affords you, when making your decision. But the choice is yours. We will all abide whatever decision you make."

Dionysus is quiet for a moment, thoughtful, as he often is, running a hand back through his short, dark curls before he resets his hands for signing. "I suppose that kind of protection is something it might be better to keep. But is that really all right?"

The question is loaded, his motions heavy with the implications. But Alekto expected this. Dionysus is, always, considerate of the feelings of others. He can see the practical value in keeping the marriage, but he will also worry how Hades feels about that, considering they are the furthest thing from a couple. He will worry how the others feel about his position as Consort. He might even worry how she—

No. It’s best not to assume her particular opinion matters to him more than anyone else’s does, even if Hades blinks at her slowly when she outwardly rejects the notion, or Hermes rolls his eyes, or Hekate gives her a look both knowing and skeptical. None of their opinions have any weight in this matter.

She blinks slowly herself, knowing well where she picked up the expression. "Of course it's all right," she replies, fixing him with a solemn stare as her hands move. "If that is what you want to do, or feel you need to do for the sake of your safety, then you should do it. We didn't present the choice to you secretly hoping you would reject it. We wanted—want—you to choose what feels like the best thing for you. No one will blame you for keeping a measure of defense against the kind of problems we know you may come up against."

It is important that he knows this. Whose opinion matters most is irrelevant. They all have the same one, in this, and she is glad for it.

She can see some tension leave his body, and it makes something in her chest ache. Does he still expect, after all this time, that his own efforts to protect himself, protect the life he wants to live, will be met with denial or rejection? What was it really like for him, on Olympus? He loves Demeter dearly, and Hestia too, and yet there’s always this sense in him that he is waiting for rejection.

Alekto comes smoothly to a stop, to all appearances looking out at the fields with interest. She wants to know why, of course. Like she wants to know a great many things about him. But there are things she must say, as well as ask, and she needs to do that now. Before she loses whatever mad courage is propelling her this far.

So she turns to him, expression as serious as it’s ever been, and gently disengages their arms so as to be able to lift both of hers to speak. One-handed signing works reasonably well if you know the other person, but not for anything all that complicated, in her experience. Better to have full use of her second instead of working with it looped through his, as he’s been doing thus far.

"I don't know how to say this in a way that sounds… natural,” she begins, adding her voice to her words just in case. He’s still learning, after all, and the last thing she wants is to have to clarify what she means after she’s managed to say it. “But I think I want to say it enough that that no longer matters to me. You…”

She looks down slightly, into his eyes, feeling a prickle on the back of her neck that she wills to go away. Why is it so difficult to be honest about this one thing? Why is it so much more terrifying than facing down Echidna’s daughter?

Be brave, for once in your life.

“You are important, to me. I am better for the fact that you are here. Have been here, over the time that you have. And I wanted you to know that you belong here, and we are glad to have you."

She winces, knowing she’s lost the thread, taken a left turn somewhere when she’d meant to plow straight forward, but her hands drop. She should at least give him the opportunity to speak. It’s meant to be a conversation, not a lecture.

"Is it... is it really okay for me to believe that?" Dionysus looks back up at her, just the inch or two that separate their eyelines, and the wideness of his eyes lends her the cue that she has trouble picking up from a voice she can only barely hear.

It is a genuine, vulnerable question, and her hands itch for the throat of whomever made him doubt his worth.

Not a productive instinct, and one she suppresses immediately. Especially because it might have been—

Stars, she hopes it wasn’t. But the beginning was tumultuous. Rocky. Entirely her fault.

She furrows her brows, trying to decide what to say, then lifts her hands again. "I… feel I must apologize again," she says, pressing her lips together. "I know my attitude towards you when you arrived was regrettable, and I do regret it. But no trace of it remains, and I would like you to believe what I have said just now, yes. If you can."

She pauses, then: "If you cannot, I suppose I will simply have to do my best to prove it to you, over time."

And find some way to make it up to you. Somehow.

"I… it's okay," he replies, slowly, still a little hesitant with unfinished thought. "I believe you. It's…this is just a 'me' thing, honestly."

Alekto is still for a moment. Perhaps it isn’t her fault? She can’t feel more than a little relief at the prospect. "Even if that is so," she replies, "you do not have to overcome those ways of thinking alone. I didn't; in truth I don't think I could have. Some pains need more than one healer, and I would be… pleased if I could somehow assist you in this."

That’s what it comes down to, really. She has to hope this is the kind of problem she can help with, even a little. If not… where does that leave them?

She turns her eyes towards her feet, a tightness around her eyes that she does not put there intentionally.

Maybe, just maybe, knowing how she really feels would help. Even a little bit. Because he should believe that his presence is important. That he’s wanted. That she doesn’t know how not to want him, anymore. His simple presence is enough, and yet she suspects some day it will not be. That she will get greedy. That she’ll—

She’s getting ahead of herself, and Alekto takes a deep breath, steadying her resolve.

"I… don't know how to say this, either," she admits, she swallows thickly. "I'm not even sure I should say it. But I suppose…" Her hands still for a long moment, then resume. "Would it be… accurate, to think that—if, somewhere down the road, my feelings became… different, than they are now. More… inclined to an association other than friendship, that would still preserve the friendship… would that be something you might be receptive to?"

Her signs are too jerky, unfluid, her mouth twisted in a way that conveys more of her emotion than she wants it to. It’s agonizing, to put such a question out into the world without knowing the answer.

"I... um. P-probably?" Dionysus looks like an antelope with nowhere to run, and she, the lioness. It makes her heart clench, and not in a good way.

She needs to make this situation better, instead of worse. Forcing her features back into neutrality, she likewise makes her body relax, from her toes up to her face.

"I… see,” she says slowly. “That's…" Her hands pause. "Thank you for answering."

She doesn’t know what to make of the answer, but she does know not to press. She has made him uncomfortable, and that’s precisely the opposite of what she meant to accomplish.

Not that she knows what she was trying to accomplish, with a question like that. Not really.

At least he hasn’t fled. There’s… maybe she can read something positive into that.

For now, though, they should definitely head back to the others. Not be alone, where the awkwardness she feels can fester.