Backward, Turn Backward

Backward, Turn Backward, Part Four
By Scribe

Preparation

Not Quite a Month Later

"Daddy." The voice was quiet. There was no response. "Daddy?" This time the voice was a little louder, and questioning. Still no response. Cupid continued to stare at the scroll lying on the table before him, but he didn't fool Bliss. Bliss had figured out that your eyes moved back-and-forth if you were reading, and Daddy was just staring, hardly even blinking. Bliss sighed patiently. This time the single word was accompanied by a poke to the arm. "Daddy!"

Cupid blinked. "Hm?" He looked down. "What is it, baby? Daddy's busy."

"No youse not," Bliss said bluntly. "Youse thinkin' 'bout Daddy Strife again."

Cupid blushed, but didn't try to deny it. "Well, I'm TRYING to work. That's better, isn't it?"

For the first few days after Strife had gone to stay with Gaia, Daddy hadn't done anything much but lay in bed, hugging a pillow. His priests had become concerned. When he had ignored them, they had appealed to Aphrodite. Aphrodite had cajoled, wheedled, teased, and finally bitched, but she hadn't been able to shift him either. Worried, she'd turned to Ares.

Ares had flashed into the bedroom and snatched away the sheet Cupid had pulled over his head. "What the Tartarus do you think you're doing?"

Cupid materialized another sheet and hid under it. "Go away."

Ares scowled, and the second sheet dissolved in a poof of ashes. "You're scaring you son, you great idiot! Strife's gone for Zeus knows how long, and now his father is just as good as gone." Cupid pulled a pillow over his head. "Damn it!"

The pillow seemed to explod a c a cloud of feathers. When Cupid sat up, Ares was resheathing his sword. "Dad!"

"When was the last time you had a bath?" Cupid didn't say anything. It had been the last night Strife was home, when he, Cupid, and Bliss had all bathed together. Cupid hadn't washed since then, trying to preserve the last scent that Strife had left on his body with their lovemaking. Now that Ares had asked him, he suddenly realized that the Strife-scent was gone, replaced by something not at all pleasant. "You stink," Ares said flatly. "Your hair is so greasy you might as well have rubbed a handful of butter in it, and your wings look awful. Don't you have any pride?" His son looked at him blankly.

Ares seemed to deflate a little. He sighed, and sat on the bed beside his son. "Cupid..." He hesitated, then said slowly. "I can imagine what you're feeling." When Cupid started to speak angrily, Ares talked over him. "No, I'm not saying I know how you feel--obviously I can't. It's too personal, but I can IMAGINE. I have Joxer--remember? I know how I'd feel if HE had to go away for a long time, for some fool reason that no one would explain to me." He studied Cupid. "All right, I'll say it--I think you're taking it better than I would. But son, you can't go on like this. People depend on you. You're a GOD, damn it. If the mortals see their God of Love like this, so devastated by separation, what faith can they have in their own loves? And if you won't think of them, think of Bliss and your mother. You're worrying them sick."

Cupid rubbed his face, sighing. "I know. I'm sorry, Dad. It's just..." His hazel eyes were so full of pain that it made Ares wince. Cupid hadn't even been this low during the Psyche fiasco. "It hurts so bad--not having him here, not knowing what's happening to him, if he's all right."

"He's with Gaia."

"And she wouldn't let anything happen to him--I KNOW that," Cupid tapped his forehead, "here." He tapped his chest, over his heart. "But I can't feel it here." He flopped back on the bed.

"You're forcing me to bring out the big sword, here. What would Strife think of this?" Cupid sat up abruptly, eyes narrowing. Ares nodded. "Don't you think that Strife deserves someone who's strong enough to hold himself together till he can finish what he has to do?" Ares gripped Cupid's shoulder encouragingly. "Think of it as a siege, Cupid. Think of all the love you two have shared as your stores, and the other's who love you as your walls of defense. Let what has come before sustain you till he returns, and your other loved ones encircle you with their support."

Cupid rolled his eyes. "Gee, a war analogy. How surprising." Ares tried to glower, but there was a relieved smile lurking in his eyes at the renewed life in his son's voice. Cupid stood up. "If you'll excuse me, I need to go bathe and give my wings a good preening before I start hearing supplicants. I probably have a backlog you wouldn't believe."

He had, and he was grateful for it, because it kept him busy for awhile. But he caught up gradually, and then there was just his usual routine. He tried spending even more time with Bliss, and that was good--he LOVED being with his son, and Bliss loved it to. But Cupid couldn't help it. They'd be engaged in some perfectly ordinary activity, and he'd suddenly find himself imagining what Strife would say, or thinking, *Strife would do this.*

The worst times were the nights--when he was really alone. The attendants would be gone, Bliss would be sprawled in peaceful slumber in his room, and Cupid would be pacing the floor, or staring up at the ceiling in his darkened room. He thought about asking Bliss if he wanted to sleep with Daddy, knowing that the little boy would be enthusiastic about that, but he didn't. He loved his son too much to use him as a crutch. And anyway, Bliss was missing Strife, too.

Now the little boy clambered up into his lap, and Cupid settled him securely, stroking first soft blond curls, then even softer white feathers. Bliss put his arms around Cupid's neck and gave him a kiss on the cheek. "Don't be sad, Daddy. Daddy Stwife gonna come back. If Daddy Stwife come back from Unca Hay-dees, he gonna come back from Big Great Gran'ma Gaia."

Bliss thought that Strife was just helping Gaia with something--he didn't know what was really going on. *But then, neither do I,* Cupid thought glumly. "I'm sure he will, sweetie." Cupid sighed heavily. "I just miss him, you know?"

Bliss nodded, then said matter-of-factly, "Go see 'im."

Cupid gazed down at his son. "I'm not supposed to."

Bliss frowned. "Zoos say not to?"

Cupid smiled. "No."

"Great Big Gran'ma Gaia say no? Daddy Stwife say no?"

His father sat up suddenly. "You know what, baby? No one actually FORBADE me from visiting."

Bliss smiled angelically. "Daddy Stwife say look for loopy-holes."

Now Cupid laughed. "Oh, man! You're getting an education, even without your tutors, aren't you?" He stood up, settling Bliss on his hip. "C'mon, babe, and we'll find a babysitter."

Cupid didn't like leaving Bliss with mortals. His priests were willing, but wary. A godling, especially a very active (and creative) toddler was a handful even for a full-fledged divinity. He didn't leave Bliss with anything less than a full god or goddess unless it was the most dimergmergency--and he was picky about WHICH deity, too. Bacchus and Dionysus were out--Bacchus for obvious reasons, and Dionysus because it was impossible to child-proof his temple, with all those vats and jars of wine around. Apollo simply wasn't all that good with children--too impatient, and Ace was too busy... The list ran on. He tried his first choice--Aphrodite, but she was out. Hephastus was good with children (he'd been a wonderful step-father), but Cupid just wasn't comfortable yet with having Bliss around the forge. Next stop was Ares. Actually, he'd been near the bottom of the list before he joined with Joxer, but War's Consort was a fantastic babysitter. Bliss never tired of listening to the adventures of Joxer, the Mighty. Of course, every time Bliss stayed with Joxer, Cupid and Strife had to endure several days of Joxer's theme song--lisped.

Cupid arrived in the socializing room of Ares' private quarters. Ares was sprawled in a chair, wearing dusty leather that smelled faintly of smoke, and Joxer was standing behind him, massaging his shoulders. When Joxer saw their visitors, he broke out in a sincere, dazzling smile. Cupid reflected that he believed it was the smile that had first made his father notice the wannabe warrior. Joxer's smile was like a small child's--whole-hearted. But behind it was the intelligence of a man who was more perceptive than most people had ever given him credit for. Ares had looked at that smile and realized that Joxer saw his faults--and still loved him--unconditionally, and unselfishly.

Greetings were exchanged, and Bliss started to squirm to be let down. "Go see Joxie an' Gran'pa, Daddy," he insisted. Cupid set him on the floor, and he trotted eagerly over to the other men. Ares lifted him up onto his lap, and Joxer leaned over his husband's shoulder to receive a smacking, baby kiss. "It's good to see you getting out," remarked Ares.

Joxer nodded agreement. "Will you boys stay to dinner? It's no trouble."

Ares and Cupid exchanged wry looks. Of course it wasn't any trouble--they were all gods, who could whip up a sumptuous meal with a blink. Joxer's mind still ran along mortal lines. "Bliss can," said Cupid. "I'm need to go somewhere, so I was hoping that you and Dad could baby-sit for a few hours."

Joxer was already smiling. He loved children. One of his greatest joys was when he found out that, as a god, he could bear children. He was looking forward to producing little godlings with Ares. Ares said indulgently, "Oh, I suppose something could be arranged. Some sort of official function?"

"No."

Ares looked up at the terse answer, frowning a little. Cupid tried to limit his work to the daylight hours, except for the occasional orgy or festival in the evening. He wanted to keep the evenings and nights for family (an attitude that Ares heartily approved). "No? What is it?"
Cupid was silent. "Cupid?"

"Daddy gonna go see Daddy Stwife," offered Bliss.

Ares stood, handing Bliss to Joxer. "Jox, why don't you go show Bliss that new kitten."

Bliss squealed in excitement, and Joxer carried him to the door. "His name is Mjau, Bliss, and he's as black as Nyx's hair." Just before exiting he hesitated. "Ar?" Ares glanced at him, and Joxer's gentle expression was troubled by what he saw in his husband's eyes. "Ar... Just..."

"I know, love," he said quietly. Joxer nodded, and took Bliss into the other room. Ares looked back at Cupid and said bluntly, "Don't."

"Dad, I HAVE to." Ares stared at him. "He didn't say I COULDN'T visit."

Ares sighed heavily. "We went over this when you were a child. Picking your way around the rules isn't strictly honorable, Cupid. You know that Strife intended to have this time to himself, uninterrupted--you KNOW that."

"And I know how he feels about me. Dad, he has to be hurting just as much as I am. He won't be with Gaia much longer. In a few days he'll be off to Zeus knows where for Zeus knows how long. I NEED this, Dad." He bit his lip. "I'm trying, but I'm holding on by my fingernails. If it's going to be another month, I have to see him now, or I don't think I'll make it."

"It could backfire," said Ares quietly. "When you have to leave him, it could be like ripping a half-healed wound open, and pouring in salt."

"It could," Cupid agreed. "But I have to risk it."

Ares studied him. "Yes, I suppose you do. Go on, then, and tell him that I miss him, all right? Wait," Ares grimaced. "Don't do that. I'll never hear the end of it when he returns. Just tell him I seem even grumpier than usual without him."

Cupid smiled, then disappeared, headed for Gaia's valley.

*****

Cupid appeared at the same spot he had before. This time there were no tree spirits in evidence, but he stood for a moment, listening closely, and he could almost hear fond whispers in the sound of the wind moving through the leaves. He walked out of the trees and started down into the valley, scanning the area for Strife or Gaia. He saw neither. The valley wasn't empty, though. Here and there, dryads anrth rth elementals worked, doing all the hundreds of tasks necessary to keep the valley's thousands of plants green and healthy. Cupid decided to ask one of them, rather than wander around the valley, searching.

He passed the giggling girl with maroon hair who was thinning a thick row of grainesines. Too nervous--it would take him forever to get anything coherent out of her. The youth who was turning the soil in one bare plot looked more promising.

As Cupid approached, he saw that the plot wasn't really bare--neat rows of green shoots--no more than an inch high--marched across the expanse. The young man (probably an earth elemental) was on his knees in the middle, working carefully with a trowel. He wore only a pair of loose, homespun pants, and his skin was tann pal pale, even honey. Black hair, thick and wavy, hung to his shoulders, and half in his face as he worked. "Excuse me, I was wondering if you knew where Gaia is? Or maybe her guest? You know, the Mischief God, Strife? He's staying with her."

The figure froze, then a familiar, yet unfamiliar face tilted up toward Cupid. There was no mistaking those aquamarine eyes, though. "Yeah, I heard something about that."

Cupid gaped. "Strife?"

Strife stood up, unfolding gracefully, and walked over to Cupid, carefully avoiding the fragile plants. "I guess if it took YOU a minute to recognize me, this must be workin'."

"You... look different." Cupid, still a little stunned, looked him up and down. Not A LOT different, but different none the less. If he'd spotted Strife at a distance, he wouldn't have known him--and that disturbed Cupid.

It wasn't just the hair, though that was a good bit of it. The longer hair somehow muted the emphatic planes and angles of Strife's features. He didn't look feminine--far from it, but still he looked softer. And the tan. Cupid was used to his cream pale skin. The light tan made his eyes look even paler, more startling. And there was a subtle change in his body, too. Strife had never been remotely stocky or plump, not even when he was a child, but now his leanness seemed somehow a little more--solid? Substantial? "Have you been working out?"

Strife shrugged. "My training always kept me in shape, but the work I've been doin' for Gaia must exercise different sets of muscles, different ways." He flexed a bare arm, watching the flow and bunch of muscle. "I think I've bulked up, just a little." He looked back at Cupid, his eyes unreadable, and said, "I didn't expect to see you."

"I didn't want to disturb you, but..."

Strife took both Cupid's hands, saying softly, "I didn't say I didn't WANT to see you, Feathers. I just said I didn't expect to. Nice surprise." He tilted his head toward a tiny shack a few yards away. "Want to step into my parlor?"

The tone was pure Strife--sly and suggestive, and Cupid felt a stir of warmth, even as he nodded, and Strife began to lead him to the shack.

The door barely closed behind them before they were wrapped in each other's arms, and it seemed that it would be a race as to who devoured whom. Strife kissed and bit him from neck to navel, somehow managing to nip the taut, shifting muscles of his belly. Meanwhile he was rubbing Cupid's strong thighs, and his hands slid up under the Love God's kilt to find him already hard. Strife flashed a wicked grin up at his lover, then bent and thrust his head up under the material.

Cupid groaned happily as he was enveloped in wet heat, and he couldn't, just COULDN'T, hold back. He grabbed the back of Strife's head and thrust once, twice... and came down his throat. His grip loosened, and Strife came out, licking pearly drops from his lips. "Okay, that's the quick one out of the way. My turn now."

They tumbled onto the narrow bed that ranged against one wall. This time it DID last. Cupid quickly stripped Strife. He moaned when he saw that the tan went everywhere--there were no pale patches. Cupid spent long moments reacquainting himself with his husband's body, discovering new textures and shades laid over the beloved familiarity.

There were a few surface differences, but it was still Strife. He moved the same, he sounded the same, he tasted the same. He made the same breathless noises as Cupid entered him. His skin was just as smooth, and his liquid release was just as hot. When they finally finished, he clung just as tightly.

Strife rested his head on his husband's chest, tracing circles around his lover's bellybutton. He spoke, the first time either had said anything since they'd entered. "Where's Bliss?"

"He's with Dad and Joxer. He misses you."

He felt Strife smile against his sensitized skin. "Miss him, too. Not as much as his daddy, but a lot."

"Dad's been impossible since you've been gone. I think you help relieve as much tension as you cause."

"Do what I can." He was silent for a moment, then said, "You know I didn't mean for you to come here."

Cupid closed his eyes. "I know."

"I thought it would be easier for both of us if I just did this at a full tilt run, with no distractions, and got it over with." He turned his head, looking up at Cupid. "I was wrong. I'm glad you came, babe. Can you stay the night?"

"They'll understand."

Strife patCupiCupid's belly, and started to sit up. "I'll fix dinner."

Cupid caught him around the waist, holding him. "So fix it."

"Nah, I mean FIX it--like mortals. You know--fire?"

Now Cupid sat up. "WHY?"

"I'll tell ya, but let me get up. It takes a little while if ya do it this way."

Cupid watched as Strife pulled his pants back on ("Sparks, babe--sparks."), then began to bustle around the small hearth, burying potatoes in hot ash, stewing vegetables... While they cooked, Strife came back and sat on Cupid's lap, and they snuggled in near silence.

Soon Strife stood, and patted his shoulder. "Get up, Feathers. I gotta clear the table if we're both going to eat there."

Cupid stood up, looking around to locate his kilt. When he got it on, he turned to find Strife dumping an armload of scrolls and parchments on the bed, and he vaguely recalled that the small table had been piled high. "What is all that?"

"Later. Have a seat."

Cupid did, and soon he was experiencing the novelty of having dinner served to him by his husband--food that he had cooked with his own hands. It was gave Cupid an oddly tender sensation, and he was determined to eat every bite without a wince or a grimace. He didn't have to worry about that--it was good. Strife, stirring his own food, grinned at his wondering expression. "Didn't expect that, didya? Lemme tell you--if you eat your own cooking, you learn quicker." They finished, and Strife made the dirtied plates disappear. "Some of the divine perks I'm not giving up, though."

"Are you going to tell me what's going on now?"

Strife got up and gathered most of the materials he'd dropped on the bed, brought them back, and spread them out before Cupid. Cupid picked up a scroll and opened it, scanning the words inside. He frowned, then picked up another, then another. Strife sat silently, picking up crumbs and flicking them into the fire. Finally Cupid said slowly, "These are all about Celtic history, and the Celtic gods." Strife nodded. "I don't understand."

Strife got up and went to the fireplace. He took a small wooden box from the mantle, and handed it to Cupid. "Don't touch it, okay? It's sort of temperamental. I have permission to use it, but..." he shrugged.

Cupid opened the box. It was lined with red velvet. Inside was a silver necklace that bore an emerald pendant, no bigger than half the first joint on his little finger, in the shape of a blunt splinter. Cupid frowned, bending closer to look at it. There was a lambent glow, deep within the stone. "Strife? That looks like..."

"The Chaos Stone. It's a chip."

Cupid hastily closed the box. It made him nervous just being in the same room with the sentient crystal. "Zeus, Strife, if Gaia finds out..."

"Duh! Who do you thinkE itE it to me?"

"GAVE it to you?" Cupid was feeling disoriented. He knew that there were dozens of things he could say, and probably SHOULD say--that whatever Strife was planning was dangerous, was insane, was insanely dangerous... But when he looked up at his lover, the words died.

Strife knew what he was feeling, but he continued. "Sure, gave it. It would be fucking DANGEROUS to steal that thing, then try to use it. It would resent it. I'm a little nuts, but I'm not stupid."

"I know, but I'm just not getting this. You're going to have to spoon feed me. What are you going to do that could possibly need the Chaos Stone, and how did you blackmail Gaia?"

Strife set the box back on the mantle, then sat down again. "I didn't have to blackmail her. I explained what I wanted to do, and the only way I could see it might be done. She loves me--she wants me to be happy," he paused, "and she said that sometimes it's just time for a secret to be over. I asked her. I asked her about my Mom, and my father, and what happened--how we all ended up like this. She said she didn't know, not really, but that if I needed to try to find out, she'd help me as much as she could."

He looked into Cupid's eyes and said softly, "I'm going back."