Page 25 of Song of Memories

I am no mere flower, Orpheus, and I am not your object.

13

Eurydice lost track of the time as Orpheus serenaded the raucous party. She let her mind wander, completely disassociating from the chaos around her, blocking out each of Orpheus's lyrics. They all plucked at her heart strings, and she wasn't ready to reconcile how he made her feel as opposed to his actions. They were at odds with one another, and she wasn't going to try and decipher them in the middle of a party.

When Orpheus paused in between songs to grab some water, Eurydice took the opportunity to feign that she was going to look for the lady's room. She quickly stepped off the stage and disappeared into the crowd, barely listening as Orpheus dedicated another song to her and started up his set again.

Eurydice returned to her previous hiding place in the corner, grabbing a cup of wine for herself and watching the rest of the party unfold. A few people had begun to turn away from Orpheus and were sneaking off to dark corners or helping themselves to the banquet. Eurydice was debating a quick exit when there was a sudden pulse of power from beside her, the pressure in the atmosphere dropping drastically. Eurydice was too familiar with immortals not to recognize the telltale sign of their arrival, but the rest of the party didn't seem to have any idea what was going on. The ripple of magic echoed from beside her, making her shiver.

Eurydice turned around and bit back a little gasp of surprise, realizing none other than Hermes and Dionysus had arrived at Perseus's drunken house party.

“By the gods,” Eurydice exhaled heavily. “This can't be that good of a party.”

Hermes was smirking, leaning against the wall with a golden circlet adorning his blonde curls. He was wearing a short toga with shining sandals, with matching wings and straps that criss-crossed up to the knee.

“My darling muse,” Hermes smiled, perpetually looking like he was keeping a secret, “every party gets better when we show up.”

Dionysus's laughter boomed in agreement. “Besides,” Dionysus's expression intensified, “my wine means my rules, and I don't trust a single one of these fools.”

“Isn't it all your wine?” Eurydice asked gently.

“Exactly the point he's making, lovely,” Hermes cooed. “Dionysus doesn't like it when men get too handsy and blame him for it.”

“I don't like it when anyone gets too handsy and blames me for it,” Dionysus added, crossing his arms over his broad chest. “Revelry and consent are not mutually exclusive.”

Eurydice said nothing, still slightly in awe that she was face to face with Hermes and Dionysus. She was used to being around immortals, especially the Underworld gods, and Pan was a deity too, but there was a great difference in power between immortals and some of the major gods of the pantheon.

“He has a bit of a thing for castrating people.” Hermes waved his hand in the air like he was shooing a fly. “It's rather endearing, actually.”

Dionysus only grumbled something in response, too low for Eurydice to hear, but Hermes started laughing in response. She knew it was rude, but she couldn't stop staring at Dionysus. Was it rude, though? Eurydice's thoughts started running wild. The gods thrive on attention and devotion.

Dionysus was nearly double Hermes's size, with a broad chest and wide shoulders. His chiton was a deep, dark purple, and his hair was black and streaked with gray. It hung down to his shoulders in elaborate curls. He didn't have a circlet or any other obvious identifier of his divinity, but his entire demeanor radiated immortality. His skin was ruddy and tanned from orgies and parties out in the sun and days spent in the grape fields, with warm lines by his eyes and mouth, which betrayed how much Dionysus laughed. As intimidating as he was, there was a warmth around him that Eurydice found herself drawn to. She knew Dionysus and Pan were very close, and that paternal feeling was rubbing off on her too.

“Are you not having a good time, friend of Pan?” Dionysus seemed to read Eurydice's thoughts, leaning toward her and lowering his voice. Hermes's brows shot up.

“You're not having a good time, are you?” Hermes echoed, as if this was a sudden realization for him. Eurydice sighed heavily and turned away from the gods, her eyes going to Orpheus on the stage. She must have been silent for a second too long because Dionysus and Hermes both nodded in understanding.

“Of course I'm having a good time.” Eurydice almost visibly cringed at her feeble attempt to deny Hermes's accusation.

“I would know,” Dionysus stared at Eurydice, “and you are not the picture of a party attendee who's enjoying themselves.”

“Well,” Eurydice balked under Dionysus's unwavering glare, “it's been...difficult. Adjusting to being in a relationship again. That's all.”

“Should we petition Eros on your behalf?” Hermes smirked, his brow raising slightly. There was nothing mocking in his words, but something in his tone made Eurydice blush with embarrassment. Hermes was Pan's father, after all, and he had a way of being incredibly protective over his son. Even, apparently, protecting his son from his own friends.

“It's normal, I'm sure. We've been through a lot that most couples will never even begin to understand.”

Eurydice was cut off by a sudden barrage of exuberant screaming, getting everyone's attention. Perseus and Orpheus were in the center of a small crowd, aggressively chugging jugs of wine that were being poured directly into their mouths by lovely serving girls. Eurydice's stomach dropped at the sight, and the sick feeling of nausea returned.

“Bastards,” Dionysus growled. “They didn't even let that wine breathe.”

“I don't think this is the crowd to appreciate a good vintage,” Hermes chuckled as he watched Dionysus's angry expression. “You are so pretty when you're mad though.”

“Save it for Hercules,” Dionysus grunted. Hermes turned his attention back to Eurydice.

“No one would blame you if you left him,” Hermes suddenly blurted, jumping straight to the heart of the matter.

“What?!” Eurydice blanched, the color draining from her face as a few thorns exploded on her shoulders. “I mean... I couldn't... What would everyone say?”

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