Chapter Text
Settling into being a “senior” councilor in the off season was like suddenly finding yourself to be the pied piper- children following you around like ducklings. Since somehow- all the usual year rounders had graduated, got into some sort of school program they wanted to be in, suddenly wanted to be with their mortal family, or were part of the New Rome exchange program that let them do classes at their high school which made college transferring much easier than it was at Camp Half-Blood. Much lower chance of Mist screw-ups.
Plus- a lot of them were year-rounders because their families were from the west coast- having directions to Camp Jupiter if something was going to happen made a lot of them feel more comfortable going home and spending time with their mortal families.
So now it was just Nico- who was trying to avoid living in the Underworld year round (as Will and Mr. D pointed out- it would be atrocious for his mental health) or Camp Jupiter (and he and Will already tried that, Nico isn’t staying there, way not his speed even though he’d be happy to see Hazel more often).
Will’s mom was touring and he didn’t really want the drama of a boarding school or being all the way in California away from Nico. It wasn’t like Nico di Angelo- big three demigod from the 1930’s who had been MIA from when the camps for several years before now- had no transcripts to get into boarding school with Will. The Mist was powerful, but not that powerful.
It was pointed out that Camp Jupiter could probably make some compelling fake transcripts themselves with how much the Romans loved paperwork.
Then Nico countered that he was far enough behind in school as it was that it didn’t really matter. Traditional schooling wasn’t going to catch him up anyway and it would be a nightmare.
So the idea was quickly dropped.
Suddenly they were the only senior campers.
The trickle of new campers all seemed so small. Wide-eyed. Confused.
Orientation videos could give someone the overview of the world they’d dropped into, but nothing of the strange social agreements that no one really taught you- they were just… there. Taught by example by the older campers.
And now…
“This is like… the second winter I’ve stayed completely through. Why am I running stuff?” Nico groaned, leaning on Will as the son of Apollo was organizing files in the cool light of Cabin 13.
Usually, they’d do this in Cabin 7. It was warmer, the lighting was better (even though the lighting for Cabin 13 had been improved in the last year or so, thank you Malcom and Annabeth), and it was closer to the infirmary. However, Will had obtained a new sibling, and they technically still weren’t “allowed” to be in a cabin alone together, especially not on each other’s beds. The boyfriends loophole had been closed the moment they started dating and Chiron gave them a scolding when Will was caught sneaking out of Cabin 13 right after curfew within the week.
To be fair, it was nothing scandalous, they were just hanging out, maybe cuddling. But Coco Puffs didn’t count as other campers and they had to set a “good example” and also Will’s new brother, Matxin, was a chronic blabbermouth. Nico didn’t mind the kid, he didn’t mean badly by it. Will blamed the ADHD in combination with ‘truth’ technically being part of Apollo’s domain.
“You’re just teaching sword fighting and helping out with information on gods and mythics,” Will said, clicking a stapler over a set of completed files of camper information. Will had taken over some of Chrion’s work to try to let the guy rest a bit- and that included filing all the camper’s information and transferring stuff to the infirmary. He was drowning in allergy information, prescriptions, and a couple of stacks of niche medical information due to a couple campers having conditions Will wasn’t that read up on.
Even so, Will projected his usual calm, cool, and collected self while he assured Nico, as usual.
“But, what if the summer campers come back and think ‘man, Nico really messed all these kids up, camp is all wrong now,’ and then everything’s ruined,” Nico said, rolling onto his back so his head hung off the bunk.
Will frowned and looked up, glanced around Nico and then up a bunk to where there was a practically melded mass of cacodemons snoozing a good was away from Nico. Not touching him. He glanced back at Nico with a raised brow. “Nico, what could you possibly do to the new campers to ruin the entire camp?”
Nico couldn’t help but to glare at Will. “I… I don’t know. What if it does?”
Will glared back. “It starts with a c…”
“No.”
“You do it all the time.”
“Stop.”
“Come on- you know your cognitive distortions.”
“Lies.”
“Catas-“
“Fine fine- I’m catastrophizing,” Nico grunted out.
Will put his hands up like someone just scored a goal. “Woo~” he cheered at a somewhat acceptable volume before putting his hands down, and his voice softened. “We’re not the only ones guiding them, if there’s an issue with the new campers and the old campers- it doesn’t all fall on you. There’s me, Mr. D, Chiron, and then all the Satyrs and Nymphs… I don’t think you can magically ruin all the campers all by yourself- even if you tried. And I don’t think you’re trying.”
Nico let out the longest sigh he could possibly do. “I’m still… worried about it. I’m also surprised there are kids approaching me.”
“You and I both know you are much less unapproachable than you used to be,” Will pointed out, “you’re not scowling at everyone all the time, you’re doing stuff with other people… your face has color again.”
“I’m going to push you off my bed.”
“And your threats are much less violent!” Will finished with a grin, “come on- most of the new campers think you’re cool. Sure, a couple are scared of you… but look me in the eyes and tell me you wouldn’t be disappointed if no one was a bit freaked out by you.”
Nico glared daggers at his boyfriend, who smiled, waiting to be proven wrong and then went back to organizing his papers when it became clear that Nico wasn’t going to argue that.
“It’ll be fine- and some campers will be around for Winter Break and they can attest that you haven’t ruined any demigods,” Will said, stapling another small collection of papers together. “Besides, Matxin likes you and he’s doing just fine!”
Matxin was terrified of his new brother’s boyfriend.
Sure, Nico di Angelo wasn’t the scariest thing Matxin had seen since finding out he was a demigod. After all, it was a drakon attack that lead him to being passed off across the country from central California to Long Island. All the people who had taken him along a leg of the week-long drive across the country had said they were simply doing a favor for Apollo.
Supposedly, his long-lost dad had a lot of friends who owed him a lot of good will. Or he was a god who could smite all of them and that was why a dozen or so people had passed him from car to car and motel to motel until he was dropped off by The Big House and presented to Will Solace- his new brother.
Matxin liked Will. He was nice, cheerful, patient, and had a good sense of humor. Matxin had followed Will around the infirmary enough to know that he was stupid smart too. He juggled a bunch of different things with a huge smile on his face.
Then there was Nico.
Will had introduced Matxin to him within two hours of coming into camp- apparently he had sword-fighting lessons he taught during the time before that, because Nico followed the two around like a shadow for the next several hours after.
It wasn’t anything the guy said- but his deadpan stare and dark eyes that bored into Matxin made him feel like his soul was being turned around in the guy’s hands each time they locked eyes. The scars across the side of his face like claw marks didn’t soften his intimidating aura.
Then there were the little demons that followed him around.
The only reason Matxin didn’t immediately scream when they started clambering onto the table Matxin was sitting at with Will and Nico was because he was too startled to do anything. He had completely frozen.
Cacodemons apparently. Or… Coco Puffs.
It was really weird seeing the goth guy who had been boring a hole into Matxin’s soul pick up a shadowy blob and scratch its head and then repeat the process with each inky creature while putting them on his side of the bench with Will- who seemed completely unfazed by the literal demons scurrying around and making weird squeaking sounds like nails on a chalkboard. All with the weirdest smirk on his face as he did so.
“Are they… soft?”
Was the first thing Matxin was able to get out of his mouth after Nico had picked up the last blob- this one the most blobby of the blobby creatures- and set it on his shoulder where it nuzzled in like a weird cat, its single bright yellow eye staring at Matxin.
“Kind of? Hard to describe,” Nico mused, absently stroking one with horns on his lap. “I wouldn’t touch them if I were you, though. They’re… to put it simply, they’re physical forms of negative emotions. They don’t mean harm but… you gotta be a bit braced up before you go petting them. Be careful- they like chewing shoelaces.”
“So you just… keep negative emotion spirits as pets?” Matxin asked, wondering if it was really that intense to need a warning if Nico was petting them like kittens and Will seemed to be… sneaking them something from his pockets? Was that… chocolate?
Nico’s weird smirk dropped. It wasn’t a frown but his brows knit and Matxin worried that his new brother’s boyfriend was going to throw his little demon blobs at Matxin.
“They’re mine, and they wanted to stick around,” Nico said patting the one on his shoulder on the head- the one-eye’s blob squeaking as its body was squished.
Sure, the initial day was intimidating. The guy had a spark to his eyes that made Matxin uneasy, but he would quip teases to Will at dinner after their tour and Will would grin so wide and laugh like Nico was the most hilarious thing in the world. Nico would then smile, it wasn’t bright or glowing like Will’s- it was crooked and made his dark eyes sparkle almost deviously.
Matxin didn’t have any siblings at home with his mom, but he spent a lot of time at the cultural center where his mom would teach instruments to the other Basque kids in the area. They were all like cousins there, and Will reminded him of his favorite older ‘cousins.’
Even if Will’s boyfriend creeped him out, Matxin wasn’t going to say anything- not when his new brother laughed like that. And Matxin had always wanted a brother…
Then Matxin touched a Coco Puff for the first time by accident. Or more like they ambushed him.
Third day at camp, and Will had taken Matxin out to the archery range, saying he wanted to start Matxin with some training since he had settled in.
Of course, Nico was there.
If Nico wasn’t helping with some lesson or Will wasn’t doing private infirmary work- Nico followed around almost silently.
Matxin had noticed that the Coco Puffs didn’t always follow Nico, though. Sometimes, they were nowhere to be seen- other times Matxin could see them tumbling around the picnic tables- snapping up scraps before the mythical camp workers could clean them.
(Matxin noted that they all tried to shoo them with brooms or towels- avoiding touching them at all)
So it wasn’t that big of a surprise to not see them rolling around in Nico’s shadow as the apparent Son of Hades was using a whetstone and a cloth to sharpen his pitch black blade.
Matxin did his best to ignore him while Will nudged his arms to adjust his stance.
“There you go,” Will said, “hands steady… and go.”
Matxin let out a shaky breath as he let go of the string and the arrow flew across the field and sunk into… the wooden pole holding up the target. Matxin scowled.
“Are you sure we share a dad? That sucked,” Matxin grumbled, his arms dropping, they already felt sore from just one arrow.
Nico snorted which made Matxin jump.
“No no- I’m not laughing at you,” he called over, “just that- Will also isn’t a natural with bows. That’s his sister Kayla’s gift. Or well- your sister too. Will worked himself to the bone to get decent-“
”decent?”
“- so it’s not like anyone lied to you about Apollo. He’s also the god of medicine and music,” Nico finished, not even acknowledging the squawk of offense Will interrupted him with.
Will quickly took back his composure, “well- yeah. Didn’t you say you played instruments back in California? At the… cultural center you said?”
Matxin’s eyes drifted between his brother and Nico, cringing a bit at Nico’s level eyes that seemed to search him for more answers.
“Um… yeah… like… piano and stuff…” Matxin murmured, it wasn’t a lie really. Just that the piano the only common instrument he played. He felt like Nico’s eyes were boring into him.
“What? Didn’t you say you know like six instruments and a handful of others that you’re okay at?” Will coaxed. ”Piano and stuff is kinda underselling it.”
Matxin shuffled uncomfortably. He had blabbed that to Will when they were hanging out before bed that first night, when Will was telling Matxin about his siblings, pointing at the posters and pictures on their bunks. Matxin had been so excited at the mention of music that he mentioned he knew six instruments like the back of his hand and a couple others that he could play but was still working on.
It wasn’t like there was a Txistu or Trikiti laying around.
”You mean your stupid recorder and accordion?”
No one to play Txalaparta with here…
“Thats not really an instrument… that’s just a bunch of wood.”
And who’d even heard of an Alboka?
“Matxin… that is the stupidest looking horn I’ve ever seen. And it sounds like a bagpipe.”
Not to mention his Ttun-ttun…
”Okay- are you going to start learning a real instrument now?”
“Stop chewing on his shoes!”
Matxin jolted back from the wave of memories as Nico practically dove in front of him- grabbing two fluffballs that Matxin hadn’t realized had wandered up and started gnawing on his shoelaces.
Will took Matxin’s shoulders and helped him step back while Nico squatted on the ground and wrangled his cacodeamons as they yipped at him like toddlers who just had their fun shiny sharp toys they found in the kitchen drawer taken from them.
“You okay? You got really pale and then Nico realized that those little guys were playing with your shoes,” Will said with a kind smile, glancing at Nico who held up the offending buggers by their scruffs.
“Shame and Isolation are little monsters,” Nico said bluntly. The creatures yipped in disagreement. “But I’m used to you, don’t go bothering a twelve year old.” He grumbled.
Will rubbed Matxin’s shoulder, “sorry if they brought up unpleasant thoughts, we think that’s how they communicate. Easier to deal with if you’re ready for them, not so much if they ambush your shoelaces.”
Matxin’s cheeks burned with embarrassment. “Just… most kids at school… didn’t get my instruments…”
Nico settled the puffs- apparently Shame and Fear- on his shoulders like they were nothing. “Guessing not the piano? Will mentioned something about a cultural center- I uh-“ Nico tipped his head and then leaned back, “I’m not even going to try guessing.”
“I know I’m pasty white.”
“Not as pasty as Nico,” Will countered, making Nico scowl.
“Am I not more tan than you have seen me since we met?” Nico said dully, “I know I’m not Sicilian but, damn.”
Will put up a hand to make Nico be quiet, which Matxin appreciated.
“The uh… Basque cultural center,” Matxin looked up at them and was met with blank stares. About to be expected.
“The uh-“ Will frowned, “that sounds… vaguely familiar… sorry- small area?”
Matxin nodded, “mountain ethnic group. Lands got divided up by France and Spain. Spaniards made it practically illegal to speak Euskara, couldn’t give your kids Basque names, gravestones were defaced and stuff. People fled. Good number ended up in Central California. Idaho is the big place, but we’ve got a comfy group in Cali.”
Will frowned, “that’s… pretty… uh… bad.”
Nico wrinkled his nose, “didn’t even leave the dead out of it.”
“My mom specializes in folk instruments and stuff. She’s like… she’s like a bard, she’s so cool,” Matxin said, he could feel his eyes growing hot. He barely had a chance to say goodbye…
Will draped an arm over Matxin’s shoulders, “it’s okay to be upset. You got chased out of California by a drakon. You barely had the clothes on your back.”
Matxin sighed, letting Will pull him into a side-hug. “Hey- once you’re good to protect yourself, you can get back home. Maybe we can stop by when we’re on the west coast! Hear you play your cool instruments.”
Will shook Matxin a bit- probably to try to perk him up. “Yeah I… I guess I’m just… more homesick than I thought I was. The instrument talk got me all defensive and… more homesick.”
“If only it was summer,” Will groaned, “I’d jeer Nyssa into making you some new ones. Maybe out of celestial bronze.” Will pat Matxin’s shoulder firmly, “you won’t be here forever, not if you don’t want to. Nico and I had a good month here alone before new campers trickled in again. We’ll work hard and get you ready to get back home able to defend yourself.”
Nico huffed from right behind Matxin, which made him want to jump out of his skin. He had snuck up close to them without a sound. “Then I guess we have a lot of work to do.”
Matxin appreciated the support and optimism… but why did his new brother’s boyfriend have to make that sound like a threat?
“So, are they really dating?”
Emile leaned over to whisper to Matxin, their dark curly hair that framed their face dipping into their eyes. Logically, their eyes should be dark brown… or maybe it was dark blue… but maybe, it really was purple like it did in most lights.
Emile had been driven up to the big house just over a week after Matxin. They spoke in a quiet voice and had a nervous disposition. When Will had commandeered Matxin to help with their tour, they were practically hiding in their long curly black hair like it was a cape.
By the next day, someone (probably Nanette from the Aphrodite cabin, who had appeared some time before Matxin had come in) had taken Emile for a haircut. Now, the under sides were buzzed short with some intricate patterning at the nape of their neck and the rest was only cut a bit so it could still be pulled up into a messy bun, only their bangs having been cut more to make curly curtain bangs around their round face.
Despite the makeover- which included an oversized earthy-toned sweater and some leather new combat boots- Emile still hunched and whispered.
Matxin could not imagine them being related to Mr. D- who was loud and always seemed cranky. Emile was soft-spoken, considerate, and tried to sink into the background at every opportunity. But since the Camp Director always softened when Emile passed by and kept inviting them to the Big House for card games and blueberry lemonade- Matxin couldn’t argue.
“What- did Will not introduce Nico to you?” Matxin asked, trying not to chew on his lip as he tried to copy the braiding pattern written out on the paper of their table in the arts and crafts building.
Emile shook their head, “no um… Mr. D… or… dad… I guess… took me beforehand- remember? And I just… haven’t really spoken to them together.”
Nico had been busy doing something or other during the tour- and when they had finished Mr. D had swooped in and squirreled Emile away- Matxin didn’t end up seeing them until they appeared with a new hair cut, new clothes, and had a bronze thing in their hand that seemed more like a fidget toy than anything else the next day.
“Well- he was introduced to me like- ‘oh Matxin, this is my boyfriend, Nico’ so I don’t think there’s a misunderstanding there. Plus they lay on each other and flirt all the time. Gross,” Matxin cringed.
Emile blinked at him and pursed their lips together. “G-gross why?”
“Mushy. Gross. I get a cool older brother and he sneaks off while I’m organizing things in the infirmary or getting ready for bed and I just know they’re making out like gross people,” Matxin wrinkled his nose and gagged.
Emile relaxed, “oh, PDA is your issue?”
“PDA, new brother, creepy boyfriend, his demons…”
“Oh. Yeah- the puffball things. Cocas?” Emile drummed their fingers on the table.
“Apparently they’re Cacodemons but they call them Coco Puffs,” Matxin explained, “they’re like- negative emotion spirits and they’ve decided Nico is their mother duck. I don’t recommend touching them. Or letting them chew on your shoes.”
Emile shrugged, “they seem… okay to me. They stare at me a lot though.”
Matxin huffed, “they’re just… creepy too. I know he’s a Son of Hades but he leans into it a bit too much.”
At that, Matxin saw Emile puff out their cheeks, “what?” He asked.
“I mean- I wear dark colors and walk around quietly…” Emile pointed out, “isn’t that what he does? Also I heard some others say his sword fighting class is fun…”
Matxin shook his head, “no no- Emile- I don’t hate him or anything. I’m just- uneasy. He’s like- I know we’re all supposed to be demigods, but he’s the most demigod seeming demigod here. Will is like… normal good at medicine, normal good at archery-“
“Don’t you play like- five instruments?”
“That’s a normal thing, normal people can learn how to do- my mom knows twelve- anyway- he’s got like demons and I’ve seen the grass start dying around him when I saw him talking with Will the other day,” Matxin continued.
“But… there’s like… satyrs and nymphs and stuff- do. They freak you out too?” Emile asked, they actually sounded less like they were whispering this time.
“To a degree,” Matxin admitted, “but like- I don’t know- he’s the death guy? He’s unnerving. He’s not bad, I know. I’m glad Will’s happy, I’ve known him for two and a half weeks and I want him to be happy- but I’m not used to him yet.”
Emile’s dark eyes wandered, looking almost blue for a second before some trees shifted and the light made them look purple once again. “It’s strange seeing someone who’s so… normal otherwise be… weird. Is that it?”
Matxin shrugged, “I guess…” Matxin gave up on his weaving and pressed his face to the table. “This is just all so weird.”
“Weird for sure.”
Emile’s head was really loud. Especially in crowds, so being in school was a huge drag.
Being closeted and nonbinary wasn’t helping matters.
So when they got ambushed by a flock of ravenous bird women and then had their guidance counselor drive them upstate to Long Island- Emile had felt like they were going to die. Sure, they had escaped the bird ladies, but the longer they rode in the car, the more they felt like they were going to their death.
By the time they were parked after going over a dirt road and parking at what looked to be a summer camp- Emile felt like they had arrived to their doom. They couldn’t move out of the back seat, feeling like the world was ending around them.
They stayed there for… who knows how long… before the door opened and squatted down there was a blond teenager with blue eyes and a bright red first aid kit slung over his shoulder.
“I heard ya came with some scratches, I’m gonna patch them up. Can ya show me?” He grinned and held out his hand.
The feeling of doom was starting to ebb away. And the guy in front of them just… radiated calm. So Emile held out their arm, wrapped in an old jacket of theirs that probably wasn’t going to get the blood washed out of it, no matter how hard they tried.
“I’m Will, I heard your name is Emile, right?”
Emile blinked in surprise. If Mister Caspian, their guidance councilor, had walked out and told people they were in the car, he wouldn’t have said Emile was in there. He would have said a different name.
“Who… told you that?” Emile whispered, watching Will untie the jacket and look over the scratches on their arm.
Will paused and looked back up at Emile. “Is that… not your name?”
“It is…” they said softly, “but… but no one here should know it. Mister… Mister Caspian… I never told him that name.”
Will’s expression softened and he smiled, “well, someone else knew it by heart. He seemed really adamant that I know that your name is Emile and he was really worried about you.”
“… who?”
Will’s brow twitched as he wiped over the scratches. “Did uh- Mister Caspian say anything on your ride over?”
Emile shook their head, “n-no he was quiet the whole time. Just that we were… going somewhere safer and… nothing much else. It… didn’t feel safer.”
Will let out a long sigh. He seemed… annoyed. He had a smile on his face as soon as he finished the sigh but he was clearly super annoyed and Emile squirmed. “Well, this is Camp Half-Blood and it is safe here. Both from who attacked you and you’re safe to be Emile here- cross my heart. Promise.”
He still seemed calm. But also annoyed still. It was weird.
Will was quick to get Emile cleaned up, bandaged up, and handed them a strange little cube of pastry out of a ziplock bag. “There you go, eat that, it’ll make you feel better.”
Emile stared at it. It was the weirdest looking pain medicine they’d ever seen. The only pain medicine pastry they’ve ever heard about was…
“Is this weed?”
Will took in a deep breath and he schooled his face, but he absolutely was close to bursting out laughing. Someone was laughing. A deep bellowing laugh. Outside somewhere.
“Nope.” Will said in a tight voice and coughed, “promise. No drugs. I’ll explain it with everything else.”
It tasted like a fresh fruit tart.
Apparently it was ambrosia. And apparently Emile was a demigod. And apparently the Greek gods were real and so were other stuff and their dad was…
“Great job with the tour Willard, Markel,” a middle-aged man with curly black hair, a scratchy-looking beard, and wild purple eyes who wore the loudest leopard-print Hawaiian shirt and pink board-short combo to ever exist.
Will didn’t look phased but Matxin- who was absolutely not named Markel- jumped out of his skin and Emile wanted to sink into the ground to run away.
“I’m here to chat with Emile! I’ll take them off your hands- away with you!”
“Wait- how do you remember their name? And how do you know so many Basque names and somehow not mine!” Matxin sputtered, his hands pulling back his dark hair like he was seconds away from pulling it out.
“He’s taking points for cultural appreciation,” Will said softly, pulling Matxin back before the man seemed to snap.
“Quiet Matia,” he said and turned to Emile, “perhaps Mister Summers told you about the Camp Director.” He held out his arms as if he were presenting himself. “I am Dionysus, yes, the god.”
Emile stared up at the man. He seemed… hard to read. Usually Emile was really good at reading people. Sure, he hit all the spots for a grandiose presentation and he had a bit of a temper with his tone- but he didn’t… feel much like anything.
“As in… the god of wine and revelry?” Emile had spent much time in the library where it was quiet, mythology books were easy to find and read.
“The very same!” He said brightly, “now, as I said, away with you.” He shooed at Will and Matxin again, “come along Emile, we’re going to the Big House.” In a flash, the god snapped his fingers and Emile felt their ears pop, and they were inside the wooden cabin, in a den, in a lounge chair. The table next to them had a fresh glass, an iced purplish-blue drink with a lemon wedge on the side and a purple bendy straw.
“I do believe you still like blueberry lemonade?”
Emile stared at the drink and then back at Dionysus.
“How did you… know?” They asked cautiously.
The god laughed. A hearty bellowing laugh. It sounded slightly familiar. Ah yes. After they had asked Will if the ambrosia square was weed.
“Well, I am your father! Of course I would know what cold drink you like, just like I knew your true name,” he raised a can of Diet Coke and swigged at it like it was beer.
Emile stared at Dionysus. “I… um… I’m not trying to be rude but… are you…sure?”
The answer was preceded by more chuckles, much less hearty this time. “I am very sure. I’ve kept an eye on you. Made sure there was a protector around you. I even intended for you to come to camp this summer. I didn’t think something would come after you beforehand.” Dionysus waved his hand holding his soda can, “I know I know- you are more of the… subdued sort… but you are no less my child!”
Emile glanced back at the lemonade that sat next to their lounger. “Will said… that demigods took after their godly parent. Usually in some kind of skill or personality inclination. Like- like Apollo is the patron god of medicine, and Will does first aid. Aren’t you the… god of wine and parties? I… I can’t drink and I hate crowds.” Sure, Emile couldn’t drink because they were only twelve, sure, but also alcohol was on the list of ‘you really shouldn’t have’ items attached to their medications and that felt like a rule that you were supposed to follow.
Alcohol smelled weird anyway.
“But I am also the patron god of those like yourself- their bodies not matching their minds. And I am also the god of madness.”
Emile froze and looked up at Dionysus. “Are you… are you saying I’m… I’m messed up because you’re my dad?”
Dionysus locked eyes with Emile and they waited to be smote. To feel the fury radiating off of the god like he surely would at such an accusation. Of course, no parent wanted to feel like it was their fault their kid was broken.
Instead, he shook his head, his expression was strangely gentle even though Emile continued to not be able to read him like they usually could with people. It was nerve-wracking that somehow this god wasn’t giving off those kinds of feelings. Was it his body language? It seemed the same as everyone else’s, but something was off.
“Of course not, Emile, my children can be eccentric but it is not due to me that you have struggled. Well- perhaps that I could not in good conscience take you here to camp sooner- but not that,” Dionysus let out a sigh, “I may be a god, but I had no idea your mother would form such… opinions on people like us.”
Like us? Like us, how? The mentally ill or the-
“I highly doubt that you being my child made you- what are the mortals calling it these days? Trans? Yes, that. But, it does allow me to understand more. As I said, I am the patron god of those whose body does not match their identity, my own identity is rather fluid- but I’m enjoying grading on my own old man by leaning into being a grumpy middle-aged man for the time, so I have been rather steady for a bit,” Dionysus waved his hand with a scoff before his expression sobered.
“My gifts passed down to you may have… exasperated what was already your mortal mind’s inclinations, but no- you being my child did not make you inherently mad,” Dionysus said.
Emile frowned, “your… gifts?” What gifts? Emile was… hilariously normal. Besides the autism diagnosis, the generalized anxiety disorder, the social anxiety disorder, the being nonbinary… they were average. Not strong. Not fast. Not unnaturally smart.
“Isn’t it obvious? You’re an empath,” Dionysus said, “my domain involves heightened emotions and you can sense them.”
Emile stared at their father.
Some things started to click into place.
The way crowds felt like their head was full. The way they could immediately tell when adults were on edge or angry or about to give a lecture.
The way they could read everyone but… a god.
It wasn’t that Dionysus was acting so differently than anyone else that Emile couldn’t get a read on him. He was a god and their ability to read emotions couldn’t brake through a god’s mind.
“But…”
“I know it’s caused you grief and I wish it had not,” Dionysus continued, “some mortals have natural inclinations to madness- ‘mental health issues’ you call it these days- and your being able to read others as well as you could did not assist that. Combined with getting overwhelmed when you were not able to control it. But!” He clapped his hands. “You are here now. Despite that satyr's incompetence in keeping you safe, I’m glad to have you.”
Emile stared at their father in shock.
Dionysus straightened up, his sobered serious expression loosening up into a wicked joy. “Well! No need to keep with such serious feelings for so long. While I am the god of revelry, I don’t have many children. I hate all these other kids since I’m being forced to stay here but I do get the privilege the other gods don’t get and I can spoil you a bit.”
Emile didn’t see Dionysus reach into his pocket or anything, he just suddenly had something in his hand that he tossed to them. Emile sputtered and grabbed it. It was a little rectangle. Bronze with sliding sheets on it. Emile frowned and moved the sheets around on to the top. It slid nice and had some satisfying clicks when the sheets rested onto the grid.
“A… fidget toy?” They asked, looking up between their dark curly hair.
“That’s just it’s closed form,” Dionysus said, “put the plate with the circle on it in the middle and press down.”
Emile easily slid the said plate into place and the box shifted. Emile squeaked and almost dropped it as it expanded into a staff of some kind. Leaves were covered around the top and stuck out in sharp points and the top looked like it was made of a bushel of small flowers.
“It is a thyrsus- my divine weapon. Not quite used for fighting usually, but I made sure there were pointy parts for you,” he explained, “you probably want to get a dagger or something too- but I had that made for you. To put it back you just twist it like you’re going to unscrew it from itself.”
Emile sheepishly put two hands on the thyrsus and twisted them in opposite directions. The staff shrunk and Emile once again scrambled to grab the shrunken weapon.
“Great! Now let’s get you out of that terrible school uniform… I think you might need a haircut as well.”