In the middle of the night

Fuck.
The hackles along his spine began to relax as his mind became clearer. The silence in the darkness had stretched on as he waited for Gany's response. The tears, and the smells all threatened to overwhelm him.

A cold breeze cut into his wet side and wafted the smell more into his nose. Tilting his head to it he finally noticed it and pinned his ears. The terror of the night had made Lailah wet herself with her small squished bladder and he had been right next to her. He glanced around again, making sure they were safe before he turned and slowly walked away after he heard the murmur of Gany admitting to memories. He knew which memories. They shared opposite memories.

He didn't have to walk far to find a small bubbling stream. He laid down and dipped his piss-wet side in it. It wasn't the first time he'd been peed on in the middle of the night, legs wrapped around a lover suffering from nightmares.

As he let the cold stream carry away the acrid smell he looked up into the sky. The night was speckled with bright stars between the shadowed branches of freshly bare trees. He tried to remember that night. Storming the birthday party of the Morningstar royalty. It wasn't the first kingdom he had conquered with his father, but it was one of the most horrifying. He remembered the smell had made him wretch at first until his father scolded him for it. He remembered saving a younger boy, younger than Ganymede had probably been, from his father's services the next morning. Made the boy his personal kitchen boy where no one would dare touch him. He couldn't keep them all in his service. He was lucky his father had let him have that one boy.

He could almost remember that fateful day. But the memories were mixed with another kingdom. Toppling statues, setting the crops to light, the screams of the poor little godless heathens... Why didn't they understand? Why didn't they just say he was their god and they'd be left alone? Would they have been left alone?

He looked back down and watched the starlight play in the water over his paws. He didn't feel like a god washing the piss away. When he was retching when the smell of burnt flesh, piss, and feces assaulted his nose when the victory was so close at hand. Why would the actions of a benevolent god cause such nightmares? It wasn't him. It was his father. His father was the one driving the armies. He knew nothing else until his angel quietly told him what had actually happened.

With a sigh, he rose and shook the water from his pelt. The fresh stream had done its work. He watched the water one more time, remembering the delegate ball, several kingdoms had come to pay homage and pledge their loyalty to Ultyr and his father. To Archnemes. How he had paraded his lover before them all, a Prince of Judila, his personal slave. Then watched with satisfaction as each delegate, king, and princess had their throats slit at the feast by their servers. His Angel had not spoken to him for a week after that. Neither had Mama Rosa.

Slowly he returned to the two, perhaps they had some time to speak or just soothe each other's company. He pushed aside the foliage purposefully, dragging his paws through the leaf litter noisily. Letting them both know that he was returning.

"It's Ultyr." He rumbled, a touch of mourning in his tone. Yes, the image of their abuser, conqueror, demon walking toward them. Ultyr was much taller than his father. More robust, and his eyes were of active embers, unlike his father.

"Ganymede..." He spoke, his voice a rumble but soft, a breath above a whisper, "I will not harm you. I promised that you may walk away at any time. I am not my father. You may ask Lailah if I have ever hurt her." Shit... he did once, he regretted that... But gods do not regret their actions... He had been scared... Gods are not supposed to fear... His eyes betrayed his thoughts for once, uncertainty, glassy eyed and misty... Gods are not supposed to cry... He turned away from them, unable to hold back his own sniffing.