FATE\Deus Decipit

Chapter 111: Shaken or Stirred

...

"I said: Have a seat."

Gravity seemed to shift, and she and Chrysaor both began to fall, as if thrown, towards the far window. Each of them landed squarely in one of the armchairs- they spun with the force as if on wheels before righting themselves towards the coffee table. At the same time, metal bands burst from the arms and underside of the chair, binding their legs and wrists. They struggled against the shackles, but in vain.

Back at the bar, Dionysus placed the glasses and ice bucket on a silver tray sitting in his hand, carrying the bottle of whiskey in the other and bringing both to the table, taking his own seat on the sofa across from them.

Athena continued to fight uselessly against her bindings.

"Let us go!"

"No can do, my fair lady. But, so long as you're my captive audience, you may as well listen to what I have to say. I rather have a proposition for you."

"Why should we listen to a word you have to say!?"

"Because, my lady, my wish is your wish. Our aims are aligned."

"How it that?" She spat, "You don't know me. You don't know what I want."

"Ha. You underestimate me." He gestured a lazy hand towards Chrysaor, "He is your wish, no?"

She reflexively backed deeper into the cushion of her chair, remaining silent. How did he know? Had he been watching her? For how long?

"Yes," He responded, as if to her inner thoughts, "I've seen it all. How you faun over one another. How you cozy up underneath the covers. How you truly care for one another."

He raised his hands, as if to deflect an accusation that had never come, "Don't get me wrong. There's no judgment. I support you completely. Which is why I propose a thought experiment. Imagine a world where you and he could spend your eternity together-"

The world seemed to fall away, and her vision went dark. Her other senses, contrarily, seemed to tingle, her ears and her skin both responding to the must subtle movements of the air.

"You could be with him forever. And not just him-"

She felt hands moving up and down her body, fingers gently caressing all her corners. She arched her back, lurching in response to the sensitive and sudden touch, but soon recognized the hands as that of her friend, of Chrysaor, and couldn't help but lean into it, even though the hands were countless, and more than any one man should have.

"You could have your Chrysaor. You could have three, thirty, three hundred-! As much or as little time with your beloved or beloveds as you wish. A world, a romance, of your very own design."

She bit her lip, and the hands fell away. She found herself back in the parlor, and her senses normal except for the severe flush in her cheeks.

"I- no. Why would I want that? How could I ever ask for that? That's not real."

"What is real? Why should it matter?"

"It matters-" She paused. It was difficult to put into words, "Because it doesn't have any value otherwise."

"And why is that?"

"Because-! How else am I supposed to know that he loves me?"

"I do love you, Athena!" Chrysaor shouted out, with a degree of frustration and desperation in his voice, "Don't listen to him!"

"The adults are speaking." Caster waved his hand, and Chrysaor, along with his chair, were gone in a blink, as if they were never there, "He does love you, Athena. I know this. You know this. What I'm giving you is the chance to have his love forever. You and your Chrysaor, your friend. You will never be apart, not so long as you wish it so. Moreover, when I seize the Chalice, I will make this a reality for everyone who should wish for it. Everyone who loves as deeply as you two. All will see their dreams come to life before their very eyes- you included, dear."