Halrloprillalar hal@prillalar.com http://prillalar.com/ December 9, 2001 RATING: R for M/M sexual situations. FANDOM/SPOILERS: Greek Mythology. SUMMARY: For love is as strong as death... DISTRIBUTION: Archive anywhere. Email forwarding allowed. NOTES: Thanks to Sheila for the Stoppard quote, Laura for sending me The Invention of Love in the first place, and my lady Eris for bemusement. Su d'auta summachos esso. Charon: Could you keep quiet for a bit? AE Housman: Yes, I expect so. My life was remarked by long silences. --Tom Stoppard, The Invention of Love AS I WENT DOWN IN THE RIVER TO PRAY by Halrloprillalar - hal@prillalar.com The first thing I remember is the empty cup taken from my lips, the arm like iron around my shoulders and his hard grey eyes looking into mine. I remember him standing, looking down at me as I blinked and stammered. Him walking away, straight-backed and tall, leaving me in the twilight garden. I remember my anger and my fear and my struggles to rise from the bench that held me fast. The hours spent alone, calling and swearing. I remember his return and that he soothed me somehow. My host, who will not tell me his name and will not tell me mine and who can make me believe that things are best that way. And I remember nothing else, nothing before. I spend my time here in the endless dim, never hungry, never thirsty, sitting on the stone that will not let me go. Whenever my host comes to me, smelling of his woman or of blood, I ask my questions yet again. But he silences me, his fingers hard as bronze on my arms, his tongue a piece of ice inside my mouth. I grow cold beneath him; it rouses me, stirs me and I embrace him. When he leaves, I miss the chill. His lady visits other times, tending the garden or sitting beside me, combing her hair and telling me stories. There is warmth in her, in her shining face and red-stained mouth. When I ask her questions, she laughs and lowers her eyes. The light is brighter when she's there and she braids flowers into her hair before she goes. At times they both are with me. I touch his face, smell her perfume. He bends me back over the bench and she cradles my head and shoulders in her arms. She kisses my forehead and my cheeks. I imagine they are streaked red as her lips, but I have never seen my face. His hands slide once down my body before he enters me and the cold pulses through my limbs. I grip his arms tightly, but can never leave a mark. His face is grave, our gazes locked. Frost runs through my veins, snow drifts over me. When the moment comes for me, I shatter, destroyed by pleasure. Every time. I do not know how long I've been here. Lately, when my host is with me, I ask him to set me free so I can accompany him, to serve him and to fight for him, to watch over his household, to fetch and carry -- whatever he desires. I swear, he almost smiles when he tells me, "Not yet." Right now I'm alone, waiting. No boredom, just repose. The air is cool and the flowers are blooming. Someone enters the garden and I look up in anticipation. It's a man I've never seen before. He's tall, slim-hipped, running towards me and calling out: "Peirithous!" Peirithous? Is that my name? "I've come back for you, Peirithous." He's kneeling before me now, holding my face in his hands, stroking my beard. I pull back. "Who are you?" "You don't -- it's Theseus -- she said you might not -- " He pushes something into my mouth before I can turn away. It's bitter on my tongue. As it melts away, my memories thaw and flood me all at once. I'm Peirithous. You're Theseus. I remember now. I remember when we met: I fled, you pursued me until I stopped the stolen cattle in their tracks and turned to meet you as a friend. I remember the boar hunt, I remember the Amazons. The centaurs at my wedding and you asking if I'd laid on the entertainment just for you, you slew so many and with so much joy. The days of friendship and the nights of love. Carrying off the child Helen together, casting lots for her. I lost. And so I remember where I am and why I'm here. As if called, they appear: my host, dread Hades, and his lady, proud Persephone. She's smiling at me and I burn with shame. Theseus stands to face them. "Lord Hades, I come to--" Hades looks past him, straight at me and I shiver. "You're free to go," he says and I stand, free to go. Theseus puts his arm around my shoulders, a firebrand against my skin. I spend a long moment looking at my host, then Theseus leads me from the garden, past Kerberos, who only watches, out the gates and to the river's edge. He clasps me in his arms and kisses my mouth. I'm scorched where we touch. I hold him at arm's length. "How did you come here, Theseus? You shouldn't have risked another journey here." The river is dark and wide. Charon waits to take us back where we belong. Theseus will have to pay him. "Pallas Athene aided me. She got me safe passage, gave me the cure for your forgetfulness." He slapped me on the back. "It's good to have you back. It will be just like before. Sorry we couldn't take Persephone with us, but we'll find you another wife. The daughter of Deucalion is being married to Tlepolemus and we'll carry her off at the wedding. What sport!" What sport. I remember my arrogance, my insolence, my swagger. I remember my punishment. The voice of my host: "Have you had enough? Then drink and forget." The cup of water raised to my lips. The arm like iron around my shoulders and the hard grey eyes looking into mine. I kiss Theseus once, wondering if I'm like ice to him. "I already have what I came for." Then I turn and walk back to my garden. They are waiting for me there. I sit down on my bench and open my arms. They take me in, my lady and my lord. I shatter. Every time. F I N I S [23] Having made a compact with Pirithous that they would marry daughters of Zeus, Theseus, with the help of Pirithous, carried off Helen from Sparta for himself, when she was twelve years old, and in the endeavor to win Persephone as a bride for Pirithous he went down to Hades. ... [24] But when Theseus arrived with Pirithous in Hades, he was beguiled; for, on the pretence that they were about to partake of good cheer, Hades bade them first be seated on the Chair of Forgetfulness, to which they grew and were held fast by coils of serpents. Pirithous, therefore, remained bound for ever, but Hercules brought Theseus up and sent him to Athens. -- Apollodorus, The Library, English Translation by Sir James George Frazer, E 1.23-24 Halrloprillalar hal@prillalar.com http://prillalar.com/