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All through the feast, the House is abuzz with music and conversation. Not the mournful harmonies and furtive whispers that Zagreus is used to, but rather a joyful babble of unprecedented revelry that fills the vast hallways. It's a welcome change, one he hadn't dared to hope for even as he fought to bring it about.
It's not the only such change.
He puts his cup down on the banister and exhales through his mouth when he hears Meg approach from behind. Hard to explain how he knows it's her, but he does. It's her footfalls. Measured and confident, in no rush to reach him because she knows he won't get away. Not anymore. The only thing he can do when she approaches like that is focus on breathing, so he does.
"Zagreus," she says. Her voice cuts through the noise drifting from the main hall, though she doesn't raise it above her usual timbre. It sends a frisson down his spine. "Didn't think I'd find you all alone here."
She places a hand on the small of his back. It reminds Zagreus of her leading him in a dance just a short while ago, in full view of every god and shade present.
They're all watching us, Zagreus had told her, wishing he were sober so he might recall all the steps and avoid embarrassing her. It's been a long and difficult time since their last. But she had just smiled, and curled her wing around him as she said, Then let them watch.
His chest feels tight. It takes him a moment to recall the implied question in her greeting.
"I'm not trying to miss the party, Meg, if you were wondering. Just needed a moment to reassure myself it's really happening, you know?"
"And how has that worked out for you, Zag?"
Laughter rings out from the main hall, bright and loud. It's a foreign sound, but it makes the House feel more like a home.
"Well, if this is all a dream devised by Hypnos to trick me into relaxing for once, he's doing a wonderful job of it. The wine is good, too. Did you have some?"
Megaera snorts, and the hand on his back turns to loop around his waist. He expects to see her move out of the corner of his eye, but then she wraps her other arm around his shoulders and instead of seeing he can feel her pressed up against his back, holding him from behind. Zagreus forgets his efforts to breathe slowly.
"I did," she replies, and yes, Zagreus can detect a pleasant trace of Dionysus' gift in her breath. But he knows that she never drinks to the point of losing control of herself or her tongue. She's being honest when she says, "You deserve this, Zag. And it's going right. Quit worrying."
"I'll do my best," he says.
"You deserve this," she repeats, in her tone that brooks no argument. It's persuasive, especially so close to his ear. She slides her leg between his, and lowers her voice to a rasp. "I deserve this, too."
Zagreus needs to grip the banister then. His knees are weak. He doesn't know what he's done to deserve a second show of public affection in such a short time. "Uh, Meg?"
"You're sweet, Zag."
The fondness in her voice is palpable. "Ah... Am I?"
"Don't make me say it again," she snaps, but there's no real bite to it. Her fingers slip under the hem of his formal chiton and trace his collarbone, then up along the curve of his throat.
Zagreus feels like he's prey that has been caught, and as always the idea warms him all over. He's caught because she chose to chase him. He is hers because she chose him, and she doesn't care who knows.
Meg places a kiss on the corner of his jaw, and he can feel her smile against his skin.
"Don't say anything and come with me," she tells him. Happily, he obeys.