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winxanity-ii · 21 hours ago

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⌜Godly Things | Chapter 32 Chapter 32 | of gods and beasts⌟

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As you followed Telemachus through the dense woodland, you couldn't help but glance back every so often, checking behind you, half-expecting the fox to be silently padding along in the shadows.

But each time, the path behind you was empty.

Not even a rustle. Not even a flicker of movement.

It was as if the creature had never been there at all.

"You're looking for it, aren't you?" Telemachus' voice carried over his shoulder, amusement laced in every syllable.

You whipped your head forward, quickly composing yourself. "No. Of course not. Why would I?"

"Uh-huh."

"You're imagining things."

"Right," he hummed, stepping over a fallen branch with ease. "So you're not worried that you just bonded with a creature that should've eaten you?"

You exhaled sharply through your nose. "It didn't eat me," you muttered, stepping around a moss-covered rock.

"Not yet," he quipped, shooting you a sideways smirk.

You groaned, picking up your pace to get ahead of him.

Eventually, the two of you broke free from the thicker part of the woods, and the first thing you noticed was the sky.

The sun had begun its descent, stretching gold and pink hues across the horizon, staining the treetops in a soft, amber glow. The light filtered through the leaves, casting long, shifting shadows along the earth as the air cooled, carrying the crisp scent of water and damp earth.

The path sloped downward, golden light spilling over the ground in warm, shifting rays. Somewhere ahead, the soft murmur of flowing water filled the air, growing clearer with each step.

The watering spot was beautiful.

A long, slow-moving river cut through the land, its surface shimmering in the late afternoon light.

A few minutes down from where you stood, the river trickled into a smaller pond, tucked into a secluded alcove where large rock formations jutted from the earth, creating a natural barrier.

A thin waterfall cascaded over one of the cliffs, feeding the pool below, the sound of rushing water mixing with the rustling of leaves.

The entire area was enclosed by towering trees, their sprawling roots twisting over the rocks and dipping into the water's edge. The light filtering through the canopy cast shifting patterns over the river's surface, giving the space a serene, almost untouched feel.

You sighed softly, feeling the tension ease from your shoulders as you took it all in.

Telemachus dropped his hand from the knife at his belt, stepping forward to inspect the riverbank. "This'll work," he murmured, nodding to himself.

Then, turning back to you, he motioned toward the pond. "Stay here. I'm going to leave some markers for the others so they can find this place when they eventually get here."

You raised a brow. "What, afraid I'll wander off and befriend another man-eating creature?"

He smirked but didn't deny it.

"Just—stay put," he said before turning and making his way up the riverbank, disappearing into the trees once more.

And this time, you didn't look back.

Taking a few more minutes to look around, you made your way toward the edge of the river, the smooth stones cool beneath your steps. The soft trickle of water filled the quiet, mingling with the rustling leaves overhead. Crouching near the riverbank, you leaned forward, peering into the glassy surface.

Your reflection stared back at you—yet it felt strangely unfamiliar.

Despite everything—the lack of rest, the stress that had coiled itself around your chest over the past few days—you didn't look tired. No dark circles beneath your eyes, no dullness to your skin. If anything, you looked... refreshed, glowing even, as if untouched by exhaustion.

Your skin was smooth, your eyes bright, and there was something unnervingly pristine about your reflection, like a polished statue carved with divine precision.

Your fingers twitched, hesitating before lightly grazing your own cheek. Weird.

"You know, staring at yourself for too long might make you fall in love," a voice hummed right beside your ear, teasing and impossibly close.

You jolted violently, nearly losing your footing as your head snapped toward the source. Your mind immediately went to Hermes—who else would sneak up on you like that? "Herme—" The name barely left your lips before your breath hitched, realization striking you mid-word.

It wasn't Hermes.

The boy floating before you let out an exaggerated sigh, flipping midair to rest on his stomach, chin propped in his hands. "Hermes?" he repeated, lips curling in amusement. "My, my, my. I suppose I could take that as a compliment, but really, how many men—both god and mortal—do you have on your list, muse?"

His golden curls bounced as he shook his head, lips pulling into a sly, knowing grin. "First Princeling Telemachus, now Hermes—what a heartbreaker you are." His grin widened, something sharp glinting behind his teeth. "I wonder, do you even keep track of the names anymore, or do you just collect admirers as you go?"

You sputtered, completely thrown off guard. "What—"

He sighed dramatically, flipping onto his back, arms spread wide as if he were lounging atop an invisible cloud. "Oh, come on. Don't tell me you don't recognize me." His voice dripped with mock offense. "That stings, truly. What a shame, what a heartbreak—I was looking forward to our meeting, you know."

Your mind raced, taking in the small figure before you—the golden curls, the lazy smirk, the way he floated weightlessly as if gravity were beneath him. Then, there were the wings. Small, delicate things, fluttering lazily behind him like an afterthought. A quiver of arrows slung over his shoulder, the faint shimmer of something otherworldly woven into his very presence.

Your stomach dropped.

"Eros," you whispered.

The god of love grinned. "Ding, ding, ding! Looks like you are more than just a pretty face." He twirled midair, coming to a stop just above the riverbank, gazing down at you with far too much amusement. "Though, between us, I was really hoping I'd be higher up on your list of divine visitors."

Your lips parted, still struggling to process what was happening. "Why are you—"

"Oh, no, no, no," he interrupted, wagging a finger at you. "Let's not start with that boring question." His golden eyes gleamed, full of mischief. "I'd much rather talk about you."

You blinked, your thoughts stuttering over themselves. Me?

The way he said it, the way his golden eyes gleamed with something unreadable—mischief, curiosity, something else—made your stomach twist.

Quickly gathering yourself, you straightened, smoothing your hands over your clothes as you took a step back. "What do you want with me?" you asked, voice firm despite the strange tangle of emotions tightening in your chest.

Eros let out a soft hum, twirling midair before flipping upside down, his curls bouncing as he floated in lazy circles around you. "Can't a deity be curious?" he mused, his voice thick with amusement. "You are quite the talk of Olympus lately."

You scowled, crossing your arms. "That's not an answer."

With a dramatic sigh, Eros righted himself, dropping down onto the riverbank with effortless grace. Now standing before you, he tilted his head, examining you in a way that made you want to shift under his gaze—like you were a particularly interesting puzzle he was trying to solve.

Then, to your surprise, his usual teasing smirk faded into something softer. "Alright, alright. I suppose I should start with an apology."

That threw you off. Your brow furrowed. "An apology?"

Eros exhaled, placing his hands behind his back as he rocked on his heels. "For indirectly being the cause of your prince's rather passionate behavior weeks ago."

Your breath hitched.

Telemachus. That night.

The heat of his touch, the way his hands had held you so firmly yet so reverently. The rasp of his voice when he'd spoken your name, his confessions, the way he'd looked at you like you were something sacred—something he couldn't let go of.

And then Aphrodite's words echoed in your mind, the memory hitting you like a wave crashing against the shore.

"And, of course, my son Eros sometimes takes things a little too far, but that's love for you."

Your throat felt tight as you forced yourself to remain composed, to ignore the way your pulse betrayed you. You inhaled through your nose, exhaled slowly. "You mean..." Your voice came out measured, restrained—because if you let your emotions get the best of you now, you weren't sure you'd stop. "...the love potion."

Eros winced, rubbing the back of his neck like a scolded child. "I mean… yeah. That." He clicked his tongue, shaking his head. "Though, to be fair, I wasn't the one who decided to meddle. That was all her." His lips curled—not quite a smirk, but not exactly a frown either. "But..." He rocked on his heels, tilting his head. "I won't pretend I didn't enjoy the outcome."

You exhaled sharply, crossing your arms over your chest. "Oh, well, that's just wonderful," you deadpanned, raising a brow. "I'm so glad my personal life has been a source of entertainment for the gods."

Eros pouted. An actual pout, his golden curls bouncing as he dramatically clasped his hands over his chest like you'd just mortally wounded him. "Come on," he whined, "don't be mad. I meant well."

Your expression remained unimpressed.

Sensing he wasn't winning you over, he sighed, rubbing his temples before launching into what you could only assume was meant to be a heartfelt explanation. "Look, princeling over there is a wreck. I mean really—have you heard his prayers? There's never-ending!" He rolled his eyes, floating backward lazily. "It's all oh, gods, what do I do, and oh, please, let her see me and if she looks at me like that one more time, I might combust where I stand! It's honestly pathetic."

Your lips parted, blinking in surprise. "He still... prays about me?"

Eros gasped, grinning as he pointed at you. "Ha! I knew that'd get your attention."

You scowled.

But the words stuck.

"Have you heard his prayers? They're never-ending."

The fact that Telemachus was still sending prayers about you to the gods was shocking enough. But knowing it wasn’t just passing thoughts or idle dreams—that he had sent his words beyond himself, had let his wants slip into the hands of the divine—and that Eros had listened…

Your fingers twitched.

"Listen, love," he continued, floating closer. "I wasn't trying to make things difficult for you two. I just thought, you know, maybe he needed a push. And maybe you did too. I mean, come on—you were both skirting around each other, it was exhausting just watching it."

"Why are you telling me this?"

Eros considered you for a moment before shrugging. "Because I like you," he said simply. "And you intrigue me. I don't really do apologies, but..." He met your gaze, something unreadable flickering in his golden eyes. "I suppose you deserve one."

You weren't sure what unsettled you more—the fact that Eros was apologizing at all, or the way he was looking at you now, the teasing edge of his usual demeanor dulled into something almost sincere.

You pursed your lips, trying—really trying—to hold onto your irritation, but something about the way Eros said it, the way he seemed so earnest in his own, frustrating, mischievous way... It made it difficult to hold onto your anger.

Eros, ever perceptive, caught the way your shoulders loosened slightly, the way your expression softened just enough to give him an opening.

His golden eyes brightened, and in the next second, he bounced toward you, wrapping his small arms around your own in an eager hug. His curls tickled your skin as he grinned up at you, his expression completely unapologetic. "So, we're good now, yeah?" He batted his lashes, flashing an innocent smile that you knew was anything but.

You sighed. "That's not how apologies work."

Eros only grinned wider. "But you forgive me, don't you?"

You glanced up at the sky as if seeking divine patience. "I—"

His eyes sparkled, squeezing your arm lightly. "Come onnnn, you like me, don't you?"

You groaned, head falling back. "Why are you like this?"

Eros laughed, and you weren't sure if it was at your expense or out of pure delight. Probably both.

Just as you were about to pry Eros off of you, a voice cut through the clearing. "They shouldn't take long. The markers were obvious enough—"

Both you and Eros snapped your heads toward the source, freezing as you found Telemachus standing at the edge of the trees. His words faltered mid-sentence, his expression hardening the moment his eyes landed on the cherubic deity still clinging to your arm. His jaw clenched, the muscle twitching as his sharp gaze darkened.

"Eros."

The name was spat like a curse, and in response, Eros only tilted his head, batting his lashes as if he hadn't a care in the world.

Telemachus took a step forward, his shoulders squared, his entire frame tensed with restrained irritation. "What are you doing here?" His voice was low, edged with barely-contained anger. "Haven't you caused enough trouble already?"

Eros gasped dramatically—though you didn't miss the mischievous glint in his golden eyes.

Instead of answering, the little god darted behind you, clutching your arm like a frightened child, burying his face into your sleeve with an exaggerated whimper. "Oh no, he's so scary," he whined, gripping onto you even tighter. "Save me! Protect me, divine one! Your princeling is going to tear me apart, and I—" He sniffled, rubbing at his eyes with a pout. "I'm so sorry! I have learned the error of my ways! My heart weeps with regret!"

Telemachus' nostrils flared. "Get off of her."

Eros clung tighter, his lower lip jutting out in a dramatic pout. "But she likes me, don't you, dearest?" He turned his wide, golden eyes up at you, feigning heartbreak. "Tell him! Tell him we've made amends and he has no reason to be such a grump!"

You opened your mouth, trying to find the right words before Telemachus actually exploded, but the prince had already taken another step forward, his glare sharpening.

Eros, sensing he was losing, peeked out from behind you and hummed, tilting his head. "You know, princeling," he mused, tapping his chin with a finger. "You're even more tense than last time. I really did a number on you, huh?" His smirk widened. "Or maybe it's just her—"

Before he could finish that thought, Telemachus' patience officially snapped.

He lunged forward.

With a delighted shriek, Eros ducked further behind you, using you as a shield as Telemachus lunged. You barely had time to react before instinct took over, your hands shooting out to press against Telemachus' chest, stopping him mid-motion. His muscles were coiled tight beneath your palms, tense with restrained frustration, his breath coming fast.

"Telemachus!" you scolded, your voice firm despite the ridiculousness of the situation. "Stop it!"

Eros peeked from behind your shoulder, his golden curls bouncing as he snickered. "Yes, princeling, do calm down. It's very unbecoming for a future king to lose his temper like this." His fingers dug into your sleeve in mock fear. "Honestly, you'd think I actually ruined his life instead of just giving it a little push in the right direction—"

"A little push?" Telemachus barked, his glare sharp enough to cut through steel. He sucked his teeth, rolling his shoulders as if physically restraining himself from grabbing the god. "You're lucky you look like a child, or else—”

Eros cut him off with a loud, exaggerated snort. "Child?" He scoffed, the word tasting like offense on his tongue. "Oh, dear princeling, I am no child."

Before you could blink, the air around Eros shimmered—a pinkish hue wrapping around him like silk before stretching, shifting, expanding.

His small frame elongated, limbs lengthening with an effortless grace, his cherubic softness melting into something far more refined. His golden curls remained, though they now framed a sharper, more angular face, one with high cheekbones and a jawline that could put even the most beautiful of mortals to shame.

His boyish mischief evolved into something undeniably more alluring—his smirk teasing but dipped in a confidence that was far more dangerous than before.

Gone was the childlike god. In his place stood a man draped in effortless charm and divine beauty.

His toga had adjusted with his form, sitting in a way that was far too perfect to be accidental—one shoulder bare, revealing the cut of his muscles beneath smooth, sun-kissed skin. His golden bracers gleamed against the flickering light, and his wings—once small and delicate—were now grand and regal, their pearlescent feathers shimmering faintly as he stretched them lazily.

Eros rolled his shoulders as though shaking off the last remnants of his smaller form, flexing his fingers as he glanced between you and Telemachus. "See?" he purred, tilting his head. "The other form is far more practical. Easier to get things done when you look like something no one would outright hit."

Silence hung between you and Telemachus as the reality of what just happened settled in.

You swallowed hard, your fingers still resting against Telemachus' chest. He hadn't moved, his jaw set tight as he stared at Eros with narrowed eyes, his expression unreadable.

You weren't faring much better.

The impish boy who had once clung to your arm in false fear was now a man who looked as though he belonged carved into marble and worshipped at the feet of altars. His golden eyes burned with knowing mischief as he watched your reaction, and you hated the way your stomach twisted at the sight.

It was still Eros. That much was clear. The glint of trouble was ever-present, woven into the curve of his lips, the taunting gleam in his gaze. And yet, the shift was... jarring.

Telemachus exhaled through his nose, his fists still clenched at his sides. "Is this supposed to impress me?" he muttered, unimpressed.

Eros laughed, his voice richer now, carrying more weight. "Oh, princeling," he said smoothly, stepping closer. "You impress so easily. But no, this isn't for you—this is for her."

Then, with deliberate ease, he turned his gaze onto you, his golden eyes latching onto yours with something that made your pulse stutter.

"Tell me, divine one," he mused, his voice a lazy drawl. "Do you like this form better?"

You nearly choked on air.

Lips twitching in amusement, Eros leaned in closer, his golden eyes half-lidded with mischief. He tilted his head, voice dropping to a purr. "Oh, come now, muse. Don't be shy."

Before you could react, his fingers lifted—light, teasing—as he tilted your chin up, forcing your gaze to meet his. His touch was featherlight, deceptively soft, yet it held a quiet command, his thumb barely grazing your jaw. "I asked you a question," he mused, lids lowering further, his smirk curling. "Do you like what you see?"

Your breath hitched, heat creeping up your neck, but before you could so much as form a response—before you could decide whether to swat him away or stammer out some semblance of an answer—you were yanked backward.

A startled gasp left your lips as you stumbled, colliding with something solid and warm. Hands steadied you—broad, familiar hands—gripping your arms as your face met the firm expanse of a chest. Telemachus.

The prince moved you behind him, shielding you from the god’s reach. His body was tense, radiating barely contained ire, and when he spoke, his voice was low, edged with something dangerous. "Watch yourself, Eros."

Eros merely blinked at the sudden aggression before snorting, utterly unbothered. "And what if I don't?" he challenged, tilting his head in mock innocence. His wings fluttered once, lazily. "What exactly will you do about it, princeling?"

The space between them crackled with tension, an invisible pull that felt like the start of a storm, but before you could intervene—before you could even begin to think of a way to de-escalate—Eros suddenly faltered.

His smirk wavered for a fraction of a second.

Then, just as quickly, it was back, sharper than before, though this time his golden gaze flicked past Telemachus, as if sensing something beyond what mortal eyes could perceive. "Well," he exhaled, tipping his head to the side. "A pity. Seems my fun is being cut short."

You frowned, confused, but before you could ask what he meant, Eros grinned wide, as if to make a point of it, his voice singsong as he dramatically placed a hand over his heart. "Alas, duty calls. But don't worry, little muse—I'll be back soon." His gaze flickered to Telemachus, and his smirk deepened, teasing. "Maybe."

Telemachus scoffed, but before he could snap out a reply, Eros merely laughed. And with that, his body shimmered—light blooming around him in soft golden dust, his laughter echoing in the air as his form dissolved into nothingness.

The forest was silent again, save for the distant rush of the river.

Gone.

But even as he disappeared, the warmth of his presence lingered, the ghost of his touch still pressed against your chin, the weight of his words swirling in your mind.

"Tell me, divine one, do you like this form better?"

You exhaled sharply, shaking your head as if to physically dispel the thought. Ridiculous. Yet, your skin still prickled from where Eros had been, as if the god's very essence had left behind an imprint.

The silence between you and Telemachus stretched, filled only by the rustling of leaves and the distant rush of the river. The prince hadn’t moved much, his arms crossed tightly over his chest, his lips pursed in something dangerously close to a pout.

You cleared your throat, shifting awkwardly before murmuring, "I... I'm sorry."

That got his attention. His head snapped toward you, brows furrowing in confusion. "What?"

You swallowed, pressing your hands together. "About, um... about what happened. With the potion. With everything." You hesitated, your fingers curling slightly. "Technically... I was the reason it happened."

Telemachus' expression darkened slightly, but instead of looking at you, he exhaled through his nose and rubbed at his jaw. Then, with a shake of his head, he muttered, "It's not your fault."

"But—"

"It's not your fault, ____," he repeated, more firmly this time, glancing at you with something softer beneath his frustration. "You didn't ask for any of this. You didn't make the gods stick their noses into your life."

He sucked his teeth, arms tightening over his chest. "Besides, it's not like Eros is the only one making a mess of things," he grumbled, voice low and bitter. "Apollo keeps throwing gifts at you, Hermes keeps showing up, and even C—"

He cut himself off, snapping his mouth shut. A muscle in his jaw twitched.

You blinked, watching him carefully. His shoulders were tense, his fingers twitching slightly against his biceps. The tips of his ears had gone pink, and despite his attempt to seem unaffected, you could see the slight downturn of his mouth.

Your lips twitched.

Without fully thinking, you tilted your head and asked, voice light, "Telemachus... Forgive me for assuming, but are you perhaps... jealous?"

The reaction was instant.

Telemachus stiffened, his head jerking toward you as if you had just accused him of treason. "What? No! Why—why would you say that?"

You bit back a laugh, watching as his face rapidly flushed, his hands uncrossing just so he could gesture vaguely at the air, looking utterly and completely caught.

"You are jealous," you teased, voice turning almost sing-song, delighted by the rare sight of a flustered Telemachus.

He sputtered, jaw working as though trying to form a rebuttal but failing miserably. Instead, he turned abruptly, pretending to cough into his fist, his shoulders now unnaturally stiff.

"I just—" He coughed again, still not facing you. "I just think they—the gods—should mind their own business, that's all."

You hummed, stepping closer, your smile growing. "Mmm. Sure. Has nothing to do with Eros holding my chin, or Apollo's gifts, or Hermes—"

"Enough." He groaned, rubbing his forehead. "Enough."

You giggled, feeling an unfamiliar lightness in your chest. Telemachus scowled at you, but the redness on his face betrayed him entirely.

Telemachus let out a sharp huff, shaking his head as if trying to rid himself of the embarrassment clinging to him.

You watched, barely suppressing another laugh as he muttered something under his breath—words you couldn't quite catch but sounded suspiciously like not jealousy and reasonable. His hand raked through his curls in frustration, tugging at them slightly before he exhaled deeply, as if to steady himself.

"I'm going ahead," he finally grumbled, still avoiding your gaze. "Getting a fire started before the others arrive." And without another word, he turned on his heel, stalking away with stiff shoulders and hurried steps.

His voice was flat, forcibly neutral, but the way he turned—just a little too fast, his ears still tinged with color—told you everything.

You bit your lip, rocking back on your heels, watching him disappear between the trees. The warmth of amusement still lingered in your chest, but beneath it was something softer. Something... fond.

The mighty Prince of Ithaca, flustered beyond belief.

It was a sight you weren't sure you'd ever get used to.

☆

The firelight flickered in the distance, a warm glow against the encroaching darkness of the forest. The sun had long since dipped below the horizon, leaving behind a sky painted in deep indigos and violets, the first few stars beginning to peek through. The air had cooled, carrying with it the faint scent of pine and damp earth, mingling with the distant aroma of roasting meat from the camp.

You crouched near the water's edge, the soft gurgling of the river filling the quiet as you worked. The pond reflected the night sky like a fractured mirror, rippling softly each time you dipped a jug beneath the surface. The water was cool against your fingers, sending small shivers up your arms, but you welcomed it.

It was a distraction—a quiet task away from the sharp knives and the guttural sounds of fresh kills being prepared.

Not too long ago, the hunting party had returned, trailing in with triumphant grins, a few carrying their successful catches slung over their shoulders. Some had managed to track down a few more animals along the way—hares, fowl, even a decent-sized boar that had taken a group effort to bring down.

Telemachus and the others had immediately set to work, their practiced hands moving with efficiency as they prepared the night's feast. You had been quick to volunteer for water duty, taking any excuse to be away from the process of skinning and gutting.

It wasn't something you found disturbing exactly—you'd lived in Ithaca long enough to be used to such things—but if you could avoid watching it, you would.

Humming softly under your breath, you set aside the jug you had just filled and reached for another. The repetitive motion was soothing, keeping your mind pleasantly blank as you focused on the task. You counted the jugs lined up beside you—three full, two more to go. You were nearly done.

The gentle rhythm of the water, the distant crackling of the fire, and the occasional murmur of voices from the camp settled around you, peaceful in its own way. It was easy to lose yourself in the quiet work, the rest of the world slipping into the background for just a little while longer.

Just as you finished filling the fourth jug and reached for the last one, a strange movement in the water caught your eye. The gentle ripples along the pond's surface were shifting—spreading outward as though something unseen had disturbed them.

You stilled, your fingers tightening slightly around the jug as you scanned the darkened waters, trying to make sense of what you were seeing.

Then, just beyond the shimmer of reflected starlight, a pair of familiar dark, onyx-like eyes locked onto yours.

Your breath hitched.

The Askálion.

Shock jolted through you, and in your attempt to push back from the water's edge, your foot slipped against the slick river stones. You let out a sharp yelp as your balance gave way, arms flailing as you tumbled forward into the shallows.

Cold water soaked through your clothes instantly, and you barely managed to catch yourself with your hands, stopping just short of fully submerging. The front of your garments clung uncomfortably to your skin, the sudden chill sending a shiver up your spine.

Before you could even scramble upright, a blur of dark fur and glowing ember-like ears leaped toward you. A startled gasp turned into a breathless laugh as the fox-like creature landed right on top of you, paws pressing into your chest, its weight knocking you fully onto your back with a soft splash.

The Askálion let out a series of excited yips, tail wagging in long, sweeping motions as it circled you, the cool night air carrying the sound of its clear delight. You barely had a moment to register its playfulness before it nuzzled against your neck, making you squirm as laughter spilled from your lips, the sensation oddly ticklish.

Despite the warning Telemachus had given you earlier about its nature, it was hard—impossible—to associate the creature currently rolling against you with the ruthless predator he'd described. It was warm, its fur softer than you expected, and the way it nudged insistently at your hands reminded you of an overeager pup desperate for affection.

"You—you're not supposed to be this friendly," you managed between giggles, halfheartedly trying to push the Askálion off. "Didn't anyone ever tell you that?"

The creature merely let out a chuffing sound, unconcerned with your protests as it pressed its head under your chin, seemingly claiming you as its own.

And, gods help you, you let it.

Hearing the telltale crunch of approaching footsteps, you stiffened.

Your heart lurched into your throat, and without thinking, you quickly gathered the Askálion into your arms, cradling it against your chest. It let out a small, surprised yip but didn't struggle—just stared up at you with those gleaming onyx eyes, its damp fur pressing cool against your already-soaked clothes.

Panicked, you turned your back to the treeline, making sure whoever was coming wouldn’t immediately see the creature in your arms. "Shhh," you whispered urgently, running your fingers over the Askálion’s sleek fur in a desperate attempt to quiet it. The fox-thing merely panted up at you, its tail flicking lazily in what you could only describe as amusement.

The footsteps drew closer, and then—

"What's taking you so long?"

Telemachus.

You sucked in a breath, whipping your head up to see him standing just at the riverbank, his arms crossed and his brow furrowed. He wasn't impatient, but he was clearly puzzled, scanning you as you sat half-submerged in the shallows.

You swallowed thickly, trying to compose yourself. "The fox—" you hissed, voice just above a whisper. "It followed us."

Telemachus frowned, clearly not believing you. "What? No, it didn't."

You exhaled sharply through your nose, barely resisting the urge to roll your eyes. Of course, he wouldn't take your word for it. Fine. He wanted proof? You'd give him proof.

Gritting your teeth, you shifted slightly—just enough to tilt your body so he could see over your shoulder.

The Askálion's ears perked up, recognizing him instantly. Then, to your horror, it let out another delighted yip.

Telemachus froze.

His gaze flickered from you to the fox, then back to you again.

The Askálion, utterly unbothered, wriggled in your grasp before reaching up to paw at your hand, clearly demanding more scratches.

For a long, drawn-out second, neither you nor Telemachus spoke. The prince's jaw clenched, his nostrils flaring slightly as he stared.

Then, he sighed—long and slow, pressing his fingers to his temple. "Of course it did." He took a slow step closer, squinting down at the drenched creature curled contently in your arms. His jaw ticked as he exhaled, then, glancing up at you, he asked, "Where did it even come from?"

You swallowed, shaking your head. "I don't know. I was just filling the last jug when I saw the ripples, and then—" You glanced down at the Askálion, which blinked up at you before nuzzling into your chest, its tail flicking idly over your lap. "It was just... there."

Telemachus hummed, his expression unreadable as he crouched down, balancing on the balls of his feet. He kept a slight distance, eyes locked on the fox as though it might lunge at any second.

"They don't usually leave their dens," he murmured, tilting his head. "Not unless they're hunting or migrating to new territory."

Your eyes widened slightly. "So you think it'll... go back?" you asked, the words leaving you before you could think them through.

The Askálion’s ears twitched.

Telemachus caught the way you tightened your grip around the creature, how your fingers subtly curled into its thick fur. He sighed again, rubbing a hand over his face before resting his elbow on his knee.

"That's what it should do," he admitted. Then, leveling you with a look, he added, "But something tells me this one doesn't care much for what's 'supposed' to happen."

Before you could respond, the distant crunch of footsteps over leaves sent a jolt through your spine. Voices—familiar and loud—filtered through the trees.

Callias and Kieran.

Your eyes snapped to Telemachus at the same time his locked onto yours, a shared moment of wide-eyed panic passing between you.

"Come here," you hissed, beckoning him urgently.

Telemachus barely had time to react before Callias' voice rang out through the clearing. "Oi! How much longer are you two planning on taking? We're starving over here!"

Kieran grunted in agreement. "You should've been done ages ago. What's taking so—"

Both voices cut off abruptly.

From behind you, you could feel their gazes settle on the scene.

The pond was bathed in the soft glow of the rising moon, its silver reflection shimmering against the water's surface. Telemachus stood directly in front of you, waist-deep in the river, his figure outlined by the cool luminescence. From an outsider's perspective, it must have looked intimate—almost painfully so.

A prince and his Divine Liaison, standing chest to chest in the rippling water, faces close enough to share a breath.

Except, of course, for the small, dark-furred creature wedged comfortably between the two of you.

The Askálion sat smugly, tail curled around its body, looking completely unbothered as it rested its head against your collarbone.

A thick silence stretched between all of you.

Then—

"Ohhh," Callias practically purred, dragging out the sound as if savoring it.

Kieran barely had time to blink before Callias shoved him backward, hissing under his breath, "We are absolutely interrupting something."

Kieran, not one to miss out on an opportunity for chaos, still managed to call over his shoulder, "Sorry for the interruption, lovebirds!"

The two of them barely dodged the splash of water that Telemachus sent their way, their laughter trailing off as they disappeared back into the trees.

Silence settled once more, save for the soft lapping of the water against your legs. You exhaled shakily, glancing at Telemachus. He still looked vaguely exasperated, his hand resting on his hip as he shook his head.

After a few more moments, you hesitated, then whispered, "Are they gone?"

Telemachus sighed, rubbing his temple. "Unfortunately, yes."

You let out a breath of relief, shifting the large animal in your arms. Your hold was starting to falter, the weight of the Askálion beginning to strain your muscles. Its thick fur, now damp, made it heavier than you anticipated, and you struggled to readjust your grip.

Seeing your struggle, Telemachus took a small step forward, reaching out instinctively. "Here, let me hel—"

A low, warning growl rumbled against your chest.

You both froze.

The Askálion's ears flattened slightly, sharp eyes locking onto Telemachus. Though its body remained relaxed in your hold, its tail twitched, and its lips curled ever so slightly, baring sharp teeth in a silent warning.

Telemachus slowly straightened, his eyes narrowing. The growl ceased immediately. The creature's ears perked up once more, its expression shifting into something far too smug for a wild animal. Its tongue lolled lazily out of its mouth, as if it hadn't just threatened a prince of Ithaca.

You swallowed thickly, looking from Telemachus to the fox and back again.

Telemachus arched a brow at you, then let out a dry chuckle. "Looks like you've got a new pet."

You let out a groan, tipping your head back dramatically before sighing in reluctant acceptance. "Great. Just great." Looking down at the fox nestled against your chest, you muttered, "I'm convinced Apollo has something to do with this." It made too much sense—the god had been relentless lately with his gifts, and now, an unnaturally docile, potentially mythical creature had decided to follow you around.

Of course, it had to be divine intervention.

Shaking your head, you finally stepped out of the water, wincing slightly as your damp clothes clung to your skin. The cool night air bit at your arms, but you ignored it, more focused on lowering the fox gently onto the ground.

As soon as its paws hit the earth, the Askálion gave an exaggerated shake, sending water droplets flying everywhere. You lifted your hands to shield yourself, barely suppressing a laugh as it gave one last dramatic shake, fluffing out its thick black fur. Then, with a pleased huff, it trotted up beside you and sat at your feet, its tail curling neatly around its paws.

Telemachus, who had just wrung some of the water from his own tunic, flicked a glance at the creature before leveling you with an unimpressed look. "Oh yeah, wholly normal behavior."

You huffed, crossing your arms. "Don't look at me like that. I didn't ask for this."

The fox let out a soft yip, tilting its head at you before pushing its nose against your leg. You sighed again, bringing a hand down to scratch between its ears. "Looks like I don't have a choice now, anyway."

Telemachus ran a hand through his damp curls, shaking his head with a small, knowing smirk. "You really don't."

You groaned, rubbing the bridge of your nose as the weight of your predicament settled fully onto your shoulders. "How in Hades' name am I supposed to hide it at the palace?" You gestured vaguely at the fox, which merely blinked up at you, utterly unbothered. "I mean, even if I tried leaving it behind, it'd probably just follow me there."

Telemachus hummed thoughtfully, stepping over to the jugs you had filled earlier. With an ease that had you both impressed and mildly annoyed, he hoisted four of them at once, carrying them as though they weighed nothing at all. "Well, you are the Divine Liaison now," he mused, glancing at you with a teasing lilt to his voice. "I'm sure my parents won't mind too much."

You spluttered, staring at him wide-eyed. "Weren't you the one going on about how dangerous it is?" You gestured at the fox, which was now happily trotting in circles around your feet, as if mocking your plight.

Telemachus only shrugged, an infuriatingly relaxed smile tugging at his lips. "As long as it does no harm to you, then it doesn't matter." He adjusted his grip on the jugs before nodding toward the direction of the camp. "Come on, grab the last one. We should head back before Callias and Kieran assume we drowned."

You opened your mouth, ready to argue, to remind him how ridiculous this entire situation was, but then you stopped. What was the point? The fox had already chosen you, and if divine intervention was at play, you doubted you had much of a say in the matter.

Letting out a long, weary sigh, you ran a hand down your face before looking down at the creature sitting so proudly at your feet. "Fine," you muttered, more to yourself than anyone else as you went to grab the last jug. "Guess I have a new shadow."

The Askálion yipped in delight, and as Telemachus chuckled beside you, you begrudgingly followed him back toward camp—your newest, unexpected companion padding faithfully at your side.

A/N: listen, i swear i want them to bang—i mean, kiss—just as much as everyone else, but alas, everything is already written in stone, and i'm just editing and posting. 😭 this is my first attempt at slow burn, and i don't wanna throw away my discipline by indulging in fan service too soon like i usually do with my fics/one-shots. hope y'all understand. also!! since i'm new to the whole fanart thing, if anyone wants to send some my way, you can email me at [email protected] (??!?!?! i can't believe i can actually say that now lmao). oh—and before i go, i heard y'all's pleas and couldn't help myself—so yeah, the fox is staying. 😌 i'm a sucker for canines, can you blame me?? my favorite pokémon is literally vulpix. i even have a fox!reader fic somewhere, so really, this was inevitable. 🦊😂 see you all next update! 💕

also, i've been blessed with more fanart, hehehe

from @Xyxxeviya works (@alucardswifeyy on tumblr)

AHHH IDKY BUT THIS HAS TO BE MY FAV 😩❤️ ⬇️

here's fvckcare (idk but i feel like i shouldnt be looking 😭 like ahhh, yall not me being shy over a drawing)

EKKK ANd I GOT ANOTHER FANART SUBMISSION from iconic-idiot-con----(this is exactly how i imagined the fox! cute but with a lethal rbf, my spirit animal fr)

YESS YESSSS YESSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS I swear fanart just does something to me as a writer, it's like i'm seeing the way my words being brought to life just---ACCKKK my heart ❤️😩😩😩😩 the way imma (selfishly) need this for the rest of my life, i cant go back 😔❤️

Tag List: nerds4life246 ace-spades-1 uniquetravelerone alassal thesimppotato11 jackintheboxs-world kahlan170 akiqvq matchaabread danishland uselessmoonlight apad-ravya suckerforblondies jolixtreesunn dreamtheatre woncloudie byzantiumhollow kisskisskys b4ts1e sarcasticbitchsblog trashcannotbealive

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