Chapter Three
Ambrosius was very quiet when we returned.
While I'm sure his visit into town had been one of excitement and new experiences, it probably depressed him to know that he would probably never be able to join in such festivities. Or so he thought anyway. I made sure to keep the alcohol and special herb a secret from him as I put them away in the kitchen.
And true to his father's orders, Ambrosius followed me everywhere, like my shadow. He was as silent as a ghost, as watchful as a hawk, and as beautiful as the most forbidden of fruit. A fruit I wanted to sink my teeth in and taste.
Why is it that this is the first time I'd felt such for someone else? I'd slept with plenty of other people, just one-night stands there to sate the animalistic need of sex. None of them ever gave me goosebumps or made my heart flutter like Ambrosius did. No one had ever set my blood on my fire and made my groin throb with this much need. There was something particularly delicious about Ambrosius. Maybe it was the fact that I knew I couldn't have him that made him so tempting.
Or the way his lips slightly parted whenever he got lost in thought. The way his eyes slid around every room we entered, as if scanning for some sort of threat. The way he walked, the way he talked, the way he breathed.
Christ, he was mouthwatering. No wonder Hades valued him so much.
"You're burning holes in my back." Ambrosius deadpanned. I blinked, zoning back in from my dirtiest fantasizes to see Ambrosius studying the artifacts on my walls as we occupied my office. I had completely forgotten about my work and had let my eyes wander to gaze hungrily at Ambrosius's backside while he'd gone off to study the framed weapons and scrollwork on my wall.
"Apologies," I replied nonchalantly, "It's difficult to concentrate on my work today. I think I'm going to break for today." Ambrosius frowned.
"You can do that?" He asked, moving away from the other side of the room to approach my desk. I nodded, getting to my feet and pausing to crack my neck and knuckles before looking at Ambrosius, who continued to watch me with an analytical stare.
"It's my realm. I can do what I please. It might slow things down for my father, but to be honest, he's not particularly in my favor right now." I admitted with a light shrug before moving past Ambrosius for the door. As expected, Ambrosius was just a few steps behind me as we made our way out of the room and down the stairs to the main lobby.
"Why is that?" Ambrosius pressed as we turned down the hall to the kitchen. I tried not to smile at Ambrosius's immense curiosity.
"He didn't tell me about allowing pagan souls into my realm ahead of time and it irks me that he thinks he has complete control over me. I'm a big boy. I know what I want and what I don't want." I responded as I went to the fridge to take out some ingredients to make pizza. Ambrosius was watching me, fascinated by my movements before meeting my eyes curiously.
"But he's Lucifer."
"And I'm Thorn. What's your point?" I asked. Ambrosius obviously didn't comprehend the fact that my father had no control over me, and he didn't want to usually. Lucifer was quite lenient with his children. He knew very well that we weren't minions to be commanded, but his children to be loved and protected. But we were his children and there were times when Lucifer felt he had a say in what happened to us. This was taking it too far, though, making a deal with Hades.
I personally did not want to let the pagan souls reside here. It meant more work for me and that I may have to hire some assistance and Remi was just enough for me. I couldn't handle speaking to more people. It wasn't anxiety so much as the little things about people that irritated me.
And oddly enough, Ambrosius didn't irritate me. Even with his strict attempts at trying to please daddy and trying to be the best soldier of the litter. It wasn't his fault he'd been molded into what his father wanted him to be. Maybe it was because I saw the desperation beneath that mask Ambrosius wore. His desperate need to be free. He was a bird trapped in a cage and he wanted to be let out. He wanted to spread his wings and take flight.
And I'd be happy to open that door for him.
I stripped off my robes and draped them over one of the seats, so I was wearing only my white loose pants, similar to Remi's parachute pants, but not quite as baggy, and a black tank top to go with it. I started to mix the ingredients together, mixing the pizza dough. I watched, from the corner of my eye, as Ambrosius took a seat across the counter from me, his eyes watching me like it was just another dance to him.
"Have you ever cooked before?" I asked him as I kneaded the dough until it was well enough to be spread out into the actual pizza shape. Ambrosius blinked, then lowered his eyes, resting his elbow on the counter and laying his cheek against his fist.
"Not allowed in the kitchen." His response was clipped and brief. He didn't want to discuss it. I respected that as I continued to spread the dough out on the baking sheet and grabbed a jar of homemade pizza sauce I'd bought in town last week.
"Well, since you're here, you should assist me." I stated. Ambrosius looked up at me and there was a glitter of excitement in his eyes before it was quickly diminished.
"I don't know what to do." He deadpanned. I shrugged.
"That is no excuse. Remove your robes and go to the fridge. There is a white tupperware bowl labeled cheese. Take that out and begin to sprinkle it over the sauce." I commanded. Ambrosius hesitated a moment longer before obeying, taking off his robes and placing them over a bar stool. My eyes followed him and the way he looked in the pants that were like mine, but black. He also wore a sleeveless cropped turtleneck that showed me a lickable path of abs.
I am so good at picking out clothes.
My eyes flickered down as Ambrosius stooped inside the fridge to get the cheese. My mouth went dry at the way the pants cupped his butt for that split moment. I quickly looked away as Ambrosius straightened and brought the bowl over. I stepped aside to let him sprinkle the cheese on while I cut up the mushroom and spinach leaves. His fingers were slender and long, hands definitely soft and the exact opposite of what a real soldier's hands looked like.
It would seem, despite Hades's intense training, Ambrosius had actually never seen battle. He was just being trained and honed to the marrow of his bones for it. It was a sad existence.
"Very good," I commented as Ambrosius paused to dust the cheese off his hands before looking at me, "Scatter these across the cheese." I handed him the pieces of mushroom and he obeyed. He looked surprisingly relaxed as he did this. I left him to the pizza since I had mostly cut up all the toppings so all he had to do was place them on top and stick the pizza in the oven. I went to the fridge and took out the wine and herb, moving to the stove. I poured all the wine into a large pot and sprinkled the herb inside before taking a spoon and stirring it all up as I placed it on a medium heat.
"Do you always make your own food?" Ambrosius asked as he put the pizza in the oven before rinsing his hands off. I nodded, letting the drink heat while I fetched a couple of wine goblets from the cupboard.
"If I don't, who would?"
"Remi."
"Oh, no. I can't let Remi in the kitchen. He'll burn my house down."
"He can't cook?"
"No, no, he can cook. He just does it when he feels like it. Asking him to do it is just asking him to burn my house down. He's a bit fiesty." I said. Ambrosius wrinkled his nose adorably at that. God, what a beautiful face. I wanted to nip those pretty lips of his.
"My father would have him killed if he behaved that way." He replied. I smirked.
"So would mine. He thinks Remi is a very well-behaved slave."
"He has no idea he's... rebellious?"
"Not at all, but I enjoyed Remi the way he is," I explained, feeling Remi's ring on my finger heat as a response to his emotions squirming inside at my compliment, "He's ever loyal and fun to party with when I'm feeling down. I could ask for no better." Ambrosius looked envious before averting his eyes. I smiled at that.
"We find friends in the oddest places, Ambrosius. I'm sure one day you will find someone whom you can trust." I offered. Ambrosius gave me a doubtful stare.
"I've been told to trust no one."
"Oh?"
"I'm a god," He answered, "A Greek god no less. We're not exactly known for being very trustworthy. I can't let anyone use me." I almost felt sorry for him to have such a jaded perspective at such a young age. The world wasn't all daisies and sunlight, but it wasn't a complete misery.
I said nothing more on the topic as I turned the heat off on the wine and stirred it around a bit more before returning it to the bottle. I took the bottle and the goblets with me as I made my way from the kitchen to the large open living room just to the left. Ambrosius followed behind me the whole way.
The living room was huge, and for what reason I have yet to understand, so most of the space was occupied by more artifacts and collectables. Walking in through the large square archway either side of said opening were two large China cabinets home to pottery and glass figurines. Straight ahead were two long white sofas, L-shaped with a space between them so that someone could walk through them. Mounted on the wall was a huge six by six flat screen television, hanging over a cabinet of movies and television series that my sister had brought to me. On either side of the television were gorgeous and intricate paintings from the Italian Renaissance that were framed by heavy gold drapes.
The walls to the left were completely lined with floor-to-ceiling windows that looked out at the courtyard. The rest of the walls were covered with ancient weaponry and paintings, an occasional stand with a glass box protecting the skulls of long extinct creatures.
"Wow." Ambrosius breathed, awed at the sight of the place. I smirked at that, watching him go straight to one of the China cabinets to admire the glass items inside. I went through the sofas and placed the wine and goblets on the glass coffee table before going to the television.
"Anything you prefer to watch?" I asked. Ambrosius turned to look at me, confused.
"I... don't know."
"You've never watched television?"
"I've watched the news."
"You are truly deprived of luxeries," I decided, turning away from his scowl to open the cabinet of movies, "All right, I'll find one of my favorite movies. It's a bit violent with explicit scenes, but the plot is very complex and intriguing." Ambrosius said nothing, just watched me curiously. I put the movie in and let the previews play as I went to check on the pizza. Surprise, surprise that Ambrosius followed me to the kitchen again. I took the pizza out and carried it to the living room with Ambrosius following me every step of the way.
"Are you sure you shouldn't be working?" Ambrosius asked, furrowing his brow as he watched me cut up the pizza and then pour the wine. I shook my head, handing him a goblet and watching him look into it in confusion.
"Ambrosius, life is not entirely made up of working. If that were the case, most of us would probably be dead. No," I said, shaking my head and taking a bite of pizza, "Life is not suffering. Life is meant to be loved and lived. Why do you think the words sound so much alike? You need to take a breath of fresh air once in a while." Ambrosius still looked skeptical of that, but he took a sip of the wine anyway and a slice of pizza. I sat back on the sofa and Ambrosius sat on the one across from me. While I was lounging back on one of the arms, Ambrosius just sat with both feet on the ground and back straightened.
This might take a while, I thought wistfully.
Actually, it didn't. We watched the movie and Ambrosius squirmed at the fighting scenes, like he could actually feel his body reacting to wanting to hit someone with a sword. And during the sex scenes, he would suddenly be interested in the floor. It was highly amusing, and even more so when I could see the beverage taking affect on him.
"That looks horrifying," Ambrosius said, baffled at one of the beheading scenes, "Does it really squirt like that?"
"It just depends on how you're hacking it off. There is an artery there."
"Gross," Ambrosius bleghed and shook his head, putting his fifty pizza slice on the table again and shuddering, "My father never mentioned that."
"Oh no?"
"No way," Ambrosius shook his head again, shifting in his seat so now he was leaning back against the back of the sofa with his legs folded up beneath him, "He doesn't going into detail about what it's like after they die. He just explains up until that point. He never shows me videos, though. He says it's disgusting. How odd, though. The god of the underworld thinking death is disgusting."
"It is," I agreed, then smiled when Ambrosius sucked pizza sauce off his finger in a way that made my body ache, "What about sex, Ambrosius?" Ambrosius looked up at me, confused by the question.
"What about it?"
"What did your father teach you about that?"
"Uh, he definitely didn't show me anything about that." Ambrosius replied slowly, making a face. I laughed at his innocent humor and shook my head.
"I meant did he give you the talk?"
"The talk?"
"The birds and the bees?"
"I don't see what birds and bees have to do with sex," Ambrosius told me in confusion, making it so hard not to laugh, "I know what it is and I know what it does. But I really don't have time for it. Between training and working, it's like having a hobby. I just don't have time."
"That's a pity," I admitted, "What about dancing? You seemed to like the dancers in town. Can you dance?" Ambrosius looked around, like he was waiting for someone to jump out and catch him, then his eyes locked on me.
"Well... I like it," He said slowly, as if choosing his words carefully, "It's almost like... a battle. Fighting is like dancing. Intricate movement, patterns, meanings behind every step and every stroke."
"Is that truly what you think about dancing?" I asked. Ambrosius nibbled his bottom lip and took another huge gulp of wine. I smiled.
"Ambrosius, you do not have to be so stern with me. Think of this as a vacation from home. What happens here, stays here. You can act freely. I won't tell your father."
"How can I believe you?"
"You don't have to. Your father told you to do what I say. And I'm saying to relax and tell me the truth, Ambrosius. Do you like dancing? Why?" I questioned. Ambrosius was silent for the longest time, just staring at me before he averted his eyes.
"It's... an art, like you said," He admitted reluctantly, then he sucked in a deep breath, let it out and closed his eyes, "It's like the music is liquid flowing through my veins. It's a gentle breeze. It's so fluid and mystical. I love the different combinations and making my own."
"You dance then?" I asked. Ambrosius's cheeks lit up.
"N-No, I don't--"
"Don't lie to me."
"I-I'm not--"
"Ambrosius, tell me the truth. Do you dance?" I asked, arching a brow. I dared him with my eyes to make up an excuse and Ambrosius stared at me helpelessly before his shoulders slumped in defeat.
"Yes." He whispered. And then I felt it. Pain pierced my heart at the shame in his voice. He was ashamed of having this hobby. The worst part was that it must have been something his father had caught onto. I could only imagine Ambrosius dancing and his father finding out about it. Probably mocking him and insulting him to the point where Ambrosius felt miserable about it.
"Why do you sound so ashamed?" I asked. Ambrosius looked at me in pained confusion.
"Soldiers don't dance."
"You're not a soldier." I reminded. Now he just looked like I'd slapped him.
"I'm trying," He said suddenly, frustrated, "I'm doing everything he tells me to do. Everything. I took eveything out of my room and it just... looks so plain. I got rid of all my toys and all the color. I stuck to one color. I stopped talking to everyone like he told me to. I stopped eating the foods he told me weren't right. I wear my armor all the time. I trained every day. Six hours a day. The rest was spent working, doing things he told me to do. I ran his errands and I made sure not to speak to my brothers whenever he told me to do things for him that involved them. I-I told my bodyguard we weren't friends, just employer and employee and even though I know it hurt his feelings, I did it anyway because that's what I'm supposed to do. He told me to stop caring about it, about everything, and I tried. I'm still trying. I'm going to do better."
I don't think I'd ever been heartbroken before. No one's story had ever reached out to me for help before. I couldn't remember a time my heart broke for someone else.
There was a raw agony in Ambrosius's voice. A desperation. He wanted so badly to become what his father wanted him to become. He was fighting himself to be his father. He gave up what he loved most because his father told him to. He gave up his only friend because his father told him to. He was trying so hard to become the doll his father wanted him to be.
And what hurt was knowing that he thought that was right. To become what his father wanted him to become. He wasn't sad because he couldn't be himself. He was sad because he couldn't be what his father wanted him to be.
What kind of person did such a thing to their child? Hades had crushed even the smallest sliver of hope Ambrosius had for himself. He'd twisted Ambrosius to become desperate for his attention and his approval. I think Ambrosius was the first god that felt inadequate. The first god that didn't feel like a god, but felt like a worthless child.
Ambrosius was incredibly hurt when I'd told him the thing he feared most. He wanted to be called a soldier. The obedient marionette for his father.
"Ambrosius," I said at last, trying to find the right words so as not to hurt him again, "Do you like being a soldier?" Ambrosius appeared confused.
"What?"
"Do you like being a soldier?" I repeated. Ambrosius furrowed his brow, studying me like he was trying to figure out if I was plotting something.
"Yes." But his answer faltered.
"Ambrosius," I tried again, setting my wine down and leaning my arms forward on my knees, "Do you like being a soldier? I'm not asking you what you should do, or what your father wants you to do, or what your father wants you to like. I'm asking you personally as a person. Do you like being a soldier? Waking up each morning with a set schedule of training and working, training and working, then sleeping and waking up the next day with the same routine?" Ambrosius stared at me. It was like watching an electronic device trying not to fry itself. He seemed both confused and annoyed, but he wasn't blowing up on me, just struggling to understand.
Struggling to understand that he wasn't his father. He was himself.
"You like dancing, don't you?" I asked. Ambrosius looked embarrassed.
"I did--"
"You do. I saw the way you watched those dancers in the square. The way you react to music. You weren't meant for rigid stance and marching in your father's shadow. You were meant to move freely, fluidly."
"I'm not a dancer," Ambrosius insisted, "I'm a soldier."
"Are you?"
"Yes?" It was a question, like even Ambrosius wasn't sure anymore. I nodded at that and got up, heading to the television. I shut the movie off and Ambrosius watched me in confusion as I took the DVD out and stepped back, changing the channels until I found the one I wanted before I turned up the volume. Exotic music filled the air with a sprinkle of mystical lyrics spoken by a woman with a smooth alto voice. I turned to Ambrosius, who looked horrified at what I was doing. I approached him.
"Get up. You're going to dance for me." I commanded. Ambrosius paled.
"I-I'm not a dancer."
"You're lying."
"I can't," Ambrosius tried again, looking around like he was trying to find a way to escape, "You don't understand, I can't. He'll find out. He'll--"
"Your father will not find out. What happens in my domain stays in my domain. I am lord here and what I say goes and what I'm saying is that I want you to get up and dance for me. I don't want to see the Ambrosius Hades created. I want to see the real Ambrosius." I told him. Ambrosius still looked petrified. What had Hades done to him that made him not want to dance? Was it the same thing he used to threaten Ambrosius should he embarrass him?
I slowly sat down on the sofa beside Ambrosius as he averted his eyes, sitting stiffly and uncomfortably with hands clasped between his knees. His whole body was tense and he was avoiding my face. He was trying so hard not to show the unease on his face, but it was just plain obvious.
"Ambrosius, what would your father do to you if you did this? What could he possibly do to you that would scare you so much?" I asked gently. Ambrosius looked away, his lips parting like he was about to answer before he pursed them together tightly.
No child should ever fear their parents, Thorn. I do not want you to be afraid of me.
Lucifer had told me that when I was a child and I had broken the window in his office. I had been so scared he would strike me for it that I hid in one of the closets. I had curled up into a ball, hearing the guards move through the hallway, trying to find me. When they finally found me, I remembered crying because I knew I was in trouble. But Lucifer never hit me. He'd taken me into his arms and embraced me tightly. Come to find out, the guards hadn't been looking for me. When I'd hidden, Lucifer was afraid that he couldn't find me, not angry that I'd broken the window.
"Please don't be afraid of me," Lucifer had said to me, wiping away my tears, "I want you to come to me when you are afraid of something. I will never harm you, Thorn. You are my child. I could never hurt you." I remembered sniffling and sobbing.
"But Raphael told me you'd hit me if I was bad." I had choked, referring to one of the bodyguards Lucifer had hired for me. Lucifer had been horrified when I told him.
"Never! Thorn, I do not use fear for my children to behave. I want you to behave because you yourself know it is right. Not because if you don't, you will be punished. I will not hurt you, Thorn. You are my precious gift. I harm none of my children."
Part of me wondered if Lucifer's reaction had to do with what had happened to him. His father had thrown him from Heaven for wanting to rebel. And while Lucifer didn't fear God, he felt betrayed and hurt. He didn't hate Him.
"Ambrosius," I said again, tuning back into reality to see Ambrosius trying to drown the conversation out by drinking more wine, so I reached out and took it away from him, placing it on the coffee table and tilting my head to gaze into his face, "What would your father do?" Ambrosius stared at me, blinking a few times. Judging from the way his pupils dilated, the herb was taking effect. As well as the alcohol itself. He gave a breathy laugh, but his eyes did not laugh.
"I have to go to The Room," He replied, "It's always dark in there. Always too quiet. Sometimes days, sometimes weeks. It depends on what I did... I'm stupid, so I go there a lot."
"You are not stupid."
"How would you know," Ambrosius demanded, "You don't know me. I really am stupid. Sometimes he'll tell me to do something and I do it wrong. Like the time he told me to take files to my brother, Theo. I did that and he told me not to take too long. But Theo wanted to talk to me. He said I was getting taller and I looked like Hades. I remember... that made me really happy. Nobody ever said anything like that to me before. I didn't really want to leave, because I liked talking to Theo. I thought he would hate me, to be honest. I heard the servants talking one time about how Theo was Hades's favorite before I came along. So maybe Theo would hate me for that, but he didn't hate me. He just wanted to talk. And then I came home... and I had been gone for two hours." His jaw tensed and he ran his tongue along the inside of his teeth before pursing his lips in a bitter smile.
"Don't take too long, he said. Well, shit. Not stupid? I'm incredibly stupid. He just told me, not to take too long, but I did anyway. Gods, I'm stupid. I can't even get back home on time. And when he found out it was because I was talking to Theo, he got even more angry. He was always telling me not to talk to them. He told me they were defective. And he didn't want me to be like that. He's always trying to make sure I'm perfect, but I'm so so stupid. I never listen to what he says and that's why I'm becoming defective."
"You are not defective." I tried, but Ambrosius wasn't having any of it. He shook his head and ran a hand through his hair in frustration, his breathing becoming rapid.
"I'm doing it again," He managed, "I'm not listening to what he says. He told me not to do anything stupid, not to embarrass him and I'm doing it again." Genuine fear came into his voice and he quickly got to his feet, stumbling. I was on my feet in an instant, reaching for him to steady him, but he pushed my hands away, moving away from me, looking panicked.
"I don't know what I'm doing," He stammered, then looked past me at the television and quickly shook his head, covering his ears, "I'm not supposed to be listening to that. He'll get really angry."
"Ambrosius, it's okay." I said, trying to calm him down. Definitely not a good idea to have drugged him. It was having the exact opposite effect on him. Damn, Hades, I thought bitterly. He'd scared his own son so badly that even alcohol and herbs couldn't calm him. It was just scaring him.
"No, it's not okay," Ambrosius managed, trying to get away from me, but he stumbled and almost tripped over his own feet, but caught himself on the sofa, "It's not okay. I'm not supposed to listen to that. You have to turn it off."
"Ambrosius--"
"I shouldn't be here. I should be training. It's late. I have to... not be here. I can't be with that sound. Turn it off! He's going to hear it!"
"Ambrosius, stop," I ordered, finally grabbing him by the shoulders and spinning him around to face me, his blue eyes wide and panicked, "Stop. Stop thinking about him. Stop trying to be like that. You're nothing like Hades." Ambrosius looked heartbroken, like I'd just hit him.
"I'm trying," He managed, voice shaking, "I'm really trying. Don't tell me that, please. He's going to be upset. He's going to hate me like he hates everyone else. He's the only one I have. I don't want him to hate me."
I suddenly felt incredibly guilty. I had moved much too quickly. I hadn't anticipated this kind of reaction from Ambrosius, this kind of treatment. Worst of all was that I hadn't expected to care this much. I had never cared this much for anyone before, especially someone I had just met. But there was so much pain, so much desperation in those blue eyes... Ambrosius was beautiful and he was intelligent. He loved learning about the world around him and he loves music and dancing. He loved art and history. He still had so much to experience, so much to enjoy.
But he was locking all that beauty away, throwing the key out, and trying so hard to please his father, trying so hard to be just like him. He had been forced to push everyone away from him and focus solely on his father. The only person Hades had allowed Ambrosius to love was him.
"I don't feel good," Ambrosius said shakily, backing away from me, "I think I'm going to be sick."
"Ambrosius," I said gently, approaching and touching his shoulder gently, and thankfully he didn't run away this time, just stood there and struggling not to vomit, "Maybe you should just lay down, all right? It's okay. You've just had a little too much to drink. I'm sorry I tried to push you, and I'm sorry if I've insulted you... I just feel there is more to you that you're not letting yourself be, and honestly? I like the real Ambrosius better." Ambrosius looked at me, tilting his head like a confused puppy before he flinched and covered his mouth. I grabbed the nearest thing, which happened to be a relatively expensive art piece that was bowl shaped.
He dropped to his knees and vomited into the bowl, trembling violently and panting for breath. I frowned, standing over him as he puked.
"I have this itching sensation that you've never drank alchol before." I said. Ambrosius paused to shake his head quickly before puking again. I sighed and went over to the television to turn off the music.
"Wait," Ambrosius said, making me turn to look at him curiously as he leaned against the side of the sofa now, "Uh... Could you... leave it on...? Just for a minute." I studied him curiously, but did as he asked. Ambrosius closed his eyes and rested his head on the cushion. I walked over to him and waited until I realized he had fallen asleep. I picked up the bowl and took it to the kitchen, leaving it there to clean in a bit before returning to the living room. A second later, smoke coiled out of my ring and Remi appeared beside me, staring at Ambrosius.
"I take it you heard everything?" I asked Remi without looking at him.
"Yup. You have one damaged package, boss."
"Indeed..."