W H I S K E Y | Dionysus

Ampelos

Dionysus had spent longer than he was willing to admit on preparing the little picnic on the hill. He was determined to make it seem like he had put in a worthy effort without seeming like a desperate man on a mission. Which he was, but he didn't want Mila knowing that. The longer he thought on it, the more he was determined to win this bet. He had spent too long without the sweet taste of wine coating his lips. Or really anything. He missed alcohol more than anyone could ever realise.

His father knew exactly what he was doing when he stripped away Dionysus' ability to drink alcohol. The pain that it would cause. Being forcefully parted from the one thing he had left of his darling Ampelos. The one who held his heart through all time and who had been so ruinously ripped away from him. His darling Ampelos who lived on through the grapes that made the ever so sweet wine that he could no longer access. His darling Ampelos who he could no longer savour. His darling Ampelos who scratched and clawed at his heart until it was a bloodied rag of what it used to be. Sometimes he wondered if there was anything left or if there was just a cavity in his chest where his heart was meant to be. When his thoughts became as morbid as they currently were, he liked to imagine that in the cavity, the gaping hole in his chest, was a small grapevine. His darling Ampelos was always alive as long as he held that grapevine in his heart.

He felt a tear track its way down his cheek as his mind spun with images of his love.

"Darling, are you well?" Dark skin and tight curls entered into his vision. Ampelos. He held a whip in his hand, his hooves kicking up the dirt around them.

"Yes, quite. Merely looking at the scenery." He felt himself answer without meaning to. He knew this. This vision had haunted his nightmares for millennia. Yet he watched on just to be able to see the soft features of Ampelos as he walked forwards and to the herd of cows in front of him. He shivered with the knowledge of what was to happen.

His hand reached out, attempting to grab at the satyr who didn't look back at the demigod behind him. Dionysus' heart was in his throat, it was gagging him, stopping him from yelling for him to stop, to turn back around and to save himself. Dionysus could take being mortal if it meant he had Ampelos by his side. He could live with being a nothing demigod if he got to share that life with Ampelos. He knew he couldn't, but every fibre of his being wished that Ampelos would just return to his embrace. But the next time he held the satyr, his skin would be cooling and the light in his eyes would be fading. A river of red would be running away from the both of them.

"Hey, you going to watch me?" Ampelos called back, his hips swaying as he came up to the fence and hopped over into the field of cows.

"Of course, I wouldn't miss it." No. Please no. He couldn't watch it again. Not again.

He saw the bull before Ampelos. Just as he always did. Giant horns and fire in its eyes. It had become an omen of death for Dionysus. He wasn't ashamed to admit that bulls had become one of his worst fears since this day of horror. His body finally began to obey him, though he knew it was merely because he had reacted this way in the first place. He had seen the carnage that the bull would bring even on that day.

He ran from his seat toward the fence. The bull ran too.

"Ampelos! Look out!" The smile on the satyr's face fell as he saw the fear stricken face of his lover, he turned. He turned just as the bull met him. The scream caught in his throat. No. Blood pooled at his feet. No. The colour drained from his face. No.

Dionysus didn't care if he would die, he ran to his lover. To his darling, the man who held his heart and soul as if they were the most important thing in the world. The man who made him feel as if he were the most important man in the world. Not just another son of Zeus who had yet to prove himself as a hero.