Till Sunrise┊Luke Castellan

15 .·:· The God of the Grape

Unknown. 'Antinous as Dionysos'. First half of C2 CE. [Detail] ⋆.ೃ࿔*:·

Words: 1,031

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three days before the summer solstice

The sound of a cough sliced through the air, shattering the peacefulness of the morning and jolting Phoebe and Luke from their slumber. Groaning softly, they blinked owlishly, their minds still foggy with sleep as they attempted to rub away the remnants of dreams from their eyes.

A shadow blocked the warm rays of the sun, casting a dark veil over the pair as they blinked up at the looming figure above them. Straining their eyes against the glaring light that peaked out from behind the shadow, they were met with the sight of a man looming over them, draped in a flashy leopard-skin jogging suit. The sharp scent of wine filled their nostrils, mingling with the dewy freshness of the morning air, and a sense of unease crept over them.

For a moment, there was silence as they exchanged glances, anxiety slightly gnawing at them as they waited for the inevitable chewing out for sneaking out past curfew. Then, with a disdainful expression, the man broke the silence, his voice cutting through the air like a knife. Pointing a finger accusingly at Luke, he delivered his verdict with a tone dripping with unimpressed disapproval. "You've got places to be."

Then, with a sudden shift in attention, the man redirected his accusatory finger and piercing gaze towards Phoebe. "And you," he began, his voice tinged with disdain as he turned his gaze towards Luke. His expression twisted into one of mild disgust as he nodded towards Luke. "Really? Him?"

"...What?" Phoebe questioned, her voice full of uncertainty as she looked up at the looming figure before her. Realising the implication behind his words, she felt a wave of discomfort wash over her, her eyebrows furrowing as she started to clam up.

"I don't know... um.. he's funny?" she offered hesitantly, her voice trailing off as she wished she was anywhere else right now.

"If he's funny. Laugh," Mr D remarked with disdain as he rolled his eyes in exasperation. "Whatever," he muttered dismissively, throwing his hands up in frustration.

"This place is the worst," he declared, his voice dripping with disdain as he looked down at them, his face contorted with a mixture of judgement and disgust. With a final glare, he turned his head, and in this light and from this angle he appeared differently to Phoebe. He seemed to have shed a couple thousand years, appearing more carefree. His eyes almost danced with ecstasy, or at least the memory of it, as they sparkled in the sunlight. His cheeks glowed like red wine in the sun, radiant and warm. He was orphic.²

In that moment, Phoebe could almost hear the echoes of frenzied laughter, as if just beyond the forest line, amidst the whispering pine trees, the maenads were dancing in wild abandon. And Phoebe wondered briefly, could they even dance without him? Did they even want to?

The god of the grape. Who's very blood mortals would poor out to offer thanks to the Gods. To beg of the gods. To apologise to the gods.³

Bromius. Bacchus. Dionysus. The liberator of inhibition.

But then she blinked, and the god once again looked impossibly old, and had turned on his heel and begun to trudge away.

Phoebe and Luke exchanged bewildered looks, their confusion slowly giving way to amusement as they watched the god depart, their heads still spinning from their strange conversation with him. Shaking her head in disbelief, Phoebe couldn't help but mutter under her breath, "gods, he's such a douche."

"But you think I'm funnnyy" he responded brightly, drawing out his words as he nudged Phoebe playfully.

Shrugging her shoulders nonchalantly, Phoebe offered him a mischievous smile. "Did I say funny? Must have been a slip of the tongue."

"I am funny! I simply ooze funniness," Luke insisted, a wide grin stretching from ear to ear.

As they lounged on the hill, now without the wine god's figure blocking the view, allowed Phoebe and Luke to take in their surroundings fully. They now became aware of a group of younger campers passing by. The sounds of their giggles and whispered conversations floated through the air, drawing the attention of the pair. Caught in the spotlight of the younger campers' curious gazes, Phoebe and Luke exchanged amused glances, their presence evidently capturing the interest of their fellow demigods.

Clicking his tongue as he glanced down at his watch, Luke let out a loud sigh, feeling a sense of frustration creeping up his spine. He stretched his arms and legs, producing a series of soft cracking sounds as his joints adjusted to the movement. He then stood up and turned to Phoebe, and offered her a warm smile before extending his hand to help her up. She reached out and grasped it without hesitation and in one smooth motion, he lifted her up from the ground, supporting her with his strong arms as she regained her balance. Then he knelt down gracefully and began to fold the woollen blanket into a neat pile, placing it carefully into his backpack.

As Phoebe watched him pack up, curiosity flickered in her gaze. "Where do you have to be?"

"Sword training for the Demeter kids," Luke replied, a hint of reluctance in his tone.

Phoebe grimaced sympathetically. "Ah man, good luck."

"Yeah, gods know I'll need it," Luke chuckled ruefully, shaking his head. "Last week, three of them straight up wouldn't even touch the wooden swords."

Phoebe couldn't help but laugh. "Did Katy pull the 'I refuse to participate in activities that encourage the senseless slaughter of our arboreal friends⁴' routine?'" she asked, raising her voice slightly to mimic the head of the Demeter cabin.

"Yep," he said, clicking his tongue. He looked at her with a wry grin. "Like I respect her position on 'anti-wood' but at the same time, I'm just trying to teach her how to use a sword so she won't die."

Phoebe shook her head, trying not to laugh as she reached out to pat him on the back. "Come on, you big baby," she teased affectionately.

The pair set off down the hill, the smell of summer and the hum of bees following them down.

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.・゜゜・Transaltions

² "Orphic"

-adjective ︳Mysterious and entrancing; beyond ordinary understanding.

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¹ Crane, David and Kauffman, Marta. 'Friends.' Season 8, episode 10, 'The One With Monica's Boots'. 2002

³ Euripides. 'The Bacchae'. 405 BC

⁴ Tracz. 'The Lightning Thief: The Percy Jackson Musical'. 'Another Terrible Day' 2017

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I know that some authors put a playlist for their fics,

is that something you guys would would like?

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Also do you wish I had got Luke and Pheobe to join the others on the quest?

Because ive noticed that a bunch of the other Luke fics have done that