Polyduekes
[pall-e-do-kays]
"Duke"
name meaning;;
a Greek name composed of "poly" for "many/very" and
"duekes" meaning "sweet"; combined the name translates
as "very sweet"
gender;;
male
orientation;;
demiromantic polyamorous pansexual
"I love you as certain dark things are to be loved,
in secret, between the shadow and the soul."
-Pablo Neruda
personality;;
reticent || formidable || compelling || winsome
Polydeukes is not mortal and has never been mortal. This should be remembered at all times when speaking with him; as sweet as Duke might appear, when he smiles and his gold-bright eyes soften with affection, he is capable of awesome things. He is a god condensed in a mortal body, and that should not be forgotten, no matter how warm his eyes or how gentle his smile. For the most part Duke is not altogether that intimidating; he tends to be quiet, tends to keep his opinions to himself rather than cause an argument. He takes orders well from the other gods and has since his conception. He does not mind overmuch being told what to do and rarely questions new assignments, with the sole exception of Canicus. He tends to be very possessive and dislikes sharing with anybody, no matter their relation to him; once he claims something as his own he intends to let no other anywhere near it. This philosophy he extends to all sorts of things, such as food, friends, particular items. In situations such as this he can be woefully aggressive.
For the most part however, Polyduekes does not involve himself in mortal affairs. He struggles sometimes to empathize with mortals because their problems are so far removed from his own, and he genuinely doesn't care enough to exert actual energy to try and sympathize with a human. When he loses his temper he can be formidable and he is quick on his feet and quicker yet to use his power, though for the most part he plays mortal when he's on earth. He is rather charming when he tries to be, though it must be said that he often doesn't try. He can be sensitive about his looks as his mother has told him since he was young that he is not altogether that pretty. She praises his eyes and his solemn head but not so much the patterns that appear on every form, no matter his intentions, the snake and the goat and the dragon. Duke has simply come to accept that this is unattractive, and is thus particularly sensitive about remarks on his looks.
[367/500]
story;;
Canicus was born scarlet and laughing. He was well-loved as a child, surrounded by family and praise; he was lauded for his bright personality, for his careless humor, for his undying devotion to his friends. As he grew older his beauty only increased what with his shining gold eyes and gleaming red coat. He remained small through childhood, delicate and effeminate with narrow feet and a clever mind. The pack he grew up with glorified him; into every home he was welcomed, every meal was shared. All loved him, and all praised his guileless beauty.
Far removed from the lives of mortals there lived a family of gods. Frequently they involved themselves in the lives of the viscets for laughs or love or jealously and it was the latter that drove the goddess Aphrodite to hate. Canicus' pack was so consumed by their love for the boy that they did not worship the gods as they should have, and they had all but forgotten their shrine to Aphrodite. Enraged into peevish envy Aphrodite ordered her son Polyduekes to poison the hearts of those who loved Canicus and drive the pack to exile him. Polyduekes obeyed his mother and went to see this infamous Canicus and, perched in a nearby tree in the shape of a white viper with the shadow of a dragon in his scales, he saw for himself the beauty of Canicus. He was mesmerized; he watched as Canicus stopped beside a family and teased the viscling about her mane, making her laugh as he exaggeratedly praised her beauty and pretended to swoon. Duke could not help but smile, his fangs glinting in a quiet laugh.
Duke continued to observe for the remainder of the month, watching Canicus gently dissuade suitors into asking for his hand, encourage those who harbored crushes for him to let go of the wasted feelings. Canicus had remained unmated despite the constant attention given to him and Duke, despite his best intentions, could not help but fall in love. There was something wonderfully alluring about Canicus and his gold-bright eyes.
Canicus' parents, desperate to find their son the true love he so desired, visited an oracle to commune with the gods. They begged the visionary to tell them what to do and, guided by the words whispered into his ear by Polyduekes himself, invisible to the mortals, the oracle told them that their son would marry an ugly beast whose face he would never see. Amidst Canicus' parents' anguished cries the oracle said solemnly, "He will wait for Canicus at the top of the mountain."
His dejected parents returned home with the news. They begged Canicus not to go; surely the oracle had seen things wrong, or there had been a miscommunication between him and the gods. But Canicus knew the wrath of the gods and he would not be able to bear it should they punish his pack for his own insolence so he went. He kissed both his mother and father goodbye and walked alone the mountain, trepidation settling on his shoulders in the form of a heavy sigh. Polyduekes followed him from the trees, flitting from branch to branch, shape to shape. He was unnoticed for the length of the journey.
When Canicus reached the precipice of the mountain he found only an altar, a priest, and a goat. The latter stood beside the altar eating the tops off of long blades of grass and the priest intoned that he was to stand in for Canicus' groom. Humiliated, Canicus stood beside the goat with great fury churning in his heart and recited his vows. The goat, unsurprisingly, remained unforthcoming. The priest announced them married and closed his book, collected his things. Canicus watched him with a weary eye.
"Where is my husband though?" He cried. "What am I to do with this goat?"
The priest gave him a kind smile. He pat Canicus' shoulder with a paw that had gone stiff with age. "He will come," he said solemnly, "And he will lead you home. Give him time." With that he set off down the mountain, the goat trailing a few feet after him and then settling down to eat more.
Canicus paced the mountaintop with scarcely concealed fear. The sun began to set, throwing shadows that stretched like hungry fingers between the peaks of the mountains. When it was fully dark and Canicus could see only the silhouettes of the trees around him there came a new voice to his right. He jumped half out of his skin when the stranger said, "I have come to take you home."
Canicus squinted into the shadows but the form remained stubbornly elusive. He could see the slope of their shoulder, the arch of their tail; perhaps a glint of their eyes. But nothing more substantial, nothing to prove their identity. Still, Canicus followed meekly for there was nothing to be said. He had been told he was to marry a beast so a beast he would marry.
The stranger led him on an old path that curled smoke-like through the forest, amid the mournful cry of owls and a distant lupine lullaby. He did not speak further; Canicus walked behind him in silence, uncomfortable with the stranger's limp reticence. He desperately wanted to think of something to say and half-heartedly he decided on: "I'm Canicus, by the way. I was never told your name."
He could hear the other viscet exhale, a loud tremble of noise. "Polyduekes."
Canicus blinked. He had to duck to avoid being clipped by a branch that the other had stooped below. "Polyduekes?" He repeated, stumbling a bit on the word. He went scarlet with embarrassment but before he could apologize for his mispronunciation the other Viscet spoke again.
Canicus nodded, glad for the reprieve. 'Duke' somehow normalized the viscet, made his illusive face more forgiving; Duke was a name, and he had honestly not expected even that much. While they did not speak again the silence felt lighter this time and Canicus smiled to himself under the shadow of his snout.
Eventually they emerged from the tree line and stood below a palace. Canicus had never seen anything he could compare the fortress with; it was gleaming gold in the wash of moonlight, its front doors the dark wood of an oak. Canicus stared and then looked askance at the other viscet, whose face he still could not see. "Is this your place?" He asked, begrudgingly impressed.
The other viscet laughed. It startled Canicus, who had gotten accustomed to his somber air. "It's our place," he corrected gently. "Go on. Look around."
Canicus spent the rest of the night exploring and when he finally tired of all the enormous rooms and the grand halls he found a bedroom to sleep in. He curled up alone; he had lost sight of Polyduekes sometime earlier, gone between one glance and the next. Presumably he would be back in the morning, or at least Canicus comforted himself with that thought as he fell asleep. The house was nice, but it was very empty and very quiet. Surely some company, and the mysterious husband seen in the light of day, would be better than how it was.
When Canicus woke he found a viscet in the living room dusting and a viscet in the kitchen skinning a rabbit but neither of them had seen Polyduekes or in fact knew who he was until Canicus explained his odd situation. They both said they had been approached for the job at night by a strange benefactor, which was close enough to convince Canicus that is had been Duke who had hired them, but neither could propose where Duke might have gone. Canicus spent the day agitated, walking the treeline and watching the movement of birds. When he went to bed he nearly blundered into Polyduekes, lying on the ground by the mattress.
Both of them straightened up so quickly they nearly smacked their snouts together. Canicus fumbled for the lamp he had dropped but Duke pushed it away with a hind foot, hopping away from the light. Canicus got a glimpse of green, of a snake's face stretched in hunger, and then it was black again. He blinked owlishly at Duke, who at least had the decency to sound sheepish when he said, "I'm sorry, but I'd rather you not see me in the light."
"Um," Canicus said dumbly, and then, "Okay." He clambered over Duke willfully and flopped down on the mattress. A moment later Duke laid his head tentatively beside his feet.
"May I lay beside you?" He asked miserably.
Canicus rolled over onto his other side, his back to Duke, and huffed a sigh. "Sure," he said, and he listened to Duke crawl up onto the bed and lay down. He was larger than Canicus had originally guessed, heavier too; the mattress angled down towards his weight, creating a slope that made it feel like at any moment Canicus was going to go sliding into him. He shifted over farther in an attempt to avoid just that.
"Where did you go today?" He asked after a moment of silence and felt more than heard Duke breathe.
"I will not often be home during the day," he replied, very much ignoring Canicus' question. "You needn't worry."
Cancius snorted but didn't say anything back. Eventually, in the warm quiet of the room, he fell asleep, Polyduekes a firm weight at his back. When he woke in the morning Duke was, unsurprisingly, gone.
Canicus' schedule began to even out. He only ever saw Duke at night, already in bed, all lamps extinguished in the room but they began to talk after the first few days, Canicus sharing stories from his childhood, from his pack and his family. He told Duke of his best friends, of a bird he had once nursed back to health, of the first time he remembered someone calling him beautiful. In return Duke told him odd snippets from his life, weird things that Canicus could barely understand, things carelessly shed in the dark, that Polyduekes had a rivalry with Apollo, that he had always hated goats, that he could see Canicus perfectly well in the dark and thought him beautiful as well.
In the day Canicus had his freedom to do whatever he pleased. He often went into the local town and sometimes even farther, visiting his old pack and hurrying home before dark. He found he had genuine affection for Duke and that he looked forward to night when they might speak further. Polyduekes was unapologetically in love with him and it went far deeper than the brief crushes Canicus had known since childhood. Duke praised his looks, certainly, but he also lauded Canicus' open heart and genuine laugh. He was always complimenting him, always smiling at him in the dark.
Canicus was surprised to realize two months after their marriage that he was happy. Surely he would like to see Duke during the day, or even just see him at all, but he was satisfied with what he had. He spent an afternoon dawdling among the pack and telling them stories of his husband when he was approached by a childhood friend of his, a younger viscet named Koli. They had drifted apart in adolescence when Canicus had recognized how manipulative Koli truly was and separated himself as best he could from the other.
Still, Canicus was feeling gracious and Koli had a very disarming smile on so he stopped to allow the latter to talk with him. They spoke of boring things first, how Koli's family was and the weather and then, quite unexpectedly, Koli said, "My mother told me you had never seen your husband's face."
Canicus bristled. Sharply he replied, "It doesn't matter, Koli. I love him."
If possible, Koli's grin stretched broader. "Oh?" He asked, curling his tail up over his forepaws. "But you know nothing about him, Canicus. You were told you were marrying a monster so what if you truly did? Do you ever think about him hurting you?"
Canicus' anger blew out of him in his surprise. He blinked at Koli then peevishly said, "Of course not. Duke loves me."
"Mhmmm." Koli stood up lightly. "I'll see you next time, Cani."
Canicus walked home and studiously ignored what Koli had said. He did the remainder of his errands, helped the cook nose through a basket of potatoes in search for the freshest, pushed the sofa over for the maid when he needed help moving it. When night name he went to bed eagerly, as he had before, and found Polydukes lying half-curled up on the mattress, his body a dark comma against the scarlet blanket. Canicus hopped up beside him and threw himself down with great gusto, rousing a laugh from Duke that vibrated the frame.
"When can I see you, Duke?" Canicus asked without preamble, trying to see Duke's expression in the dark when his laughter petered out into silence.
Polyduekes shifted uncomfortably. Canicus thought he could see the rise and fall of his chest but nothing more. "I'm afraid I don't--"
Canicus pressed his face into the blanket with a loud groan. "Fine," he grouched, "That's just fine. Walk up a mountain and get married to a goat and god forbid I ask to see my husband's face."
"Canicus--" Duke began but he shook his head and said loudly, "No. I'm going to bed."
When he woke, Polyduekes was gone, as he always was. Canicus was irritable the entire day, eventually taking to the woods when the staff couldn't tolerate his outbursts anymore. He could not shake Koli's words from his mind; he kept returning to them, thinking of how unfair it was that he had never seen Polyduekes by light, how he did not know the look of him but could recognize his voice pitched in a whisper. He didn't think Duke was a monster, not knowing all the stories he had been told, not having heard Duke laugh when he dropped his pretense of elegance. He did not think he would hurt him but... well, what did Canicus really know about his husband?
When he got home he very quietly arranged to get a knife from the kitchen and a spare lantern from the living room. He crept into the bedroom, lay both beside his pillow, and waited for nightfall. Their conversation was stiff, as Canicus was angry and nervous and suddenly all too aware of Polyduekes' size beside him and could not generate enough polite words to keep them speaking. Polyduekes fell asleep with his face touching Canicus' back and he waited, waited still, waited until Duke's breath had evened out and his body relaxed. Then he ever so carefully climbed out of bed and retrieved the lamp and the knife, holding the latter in his mouth and fumbling to get the candle lit.
When finally a shaky flame ignited to cast a weak light onto the bed Canicus crawled up next to Duke, moving slowly so as not to upset his weight and wake him from his slumber. Canicus had to position himself carefully in order to see Duke's face and as the candlelight played over his body in preparation for the reveal of his face Canicus' terror grew. He could see shapes in his fur, a hideous monster, a dragon, the open mouths of snakes. He looked innately dangerous and gazing upon him felt somehow horribly wrong and yet Canicus could not help himself but to move the candle higher.
When the light fell upon Duke's face Canicus startled so badly he spilled the wax pooling at the base of the candle for he recognized Duke, knew him in the statues he had seen as a child, in the paintings families drew carefully onto the walls of their den with dye and dedication. He was none other than Eros, god of love, and had such a magnificent head that it made Canicus shake. He did not notice the drop of wax that vibrated for a moment on the lip of the candle holder before falling, striking Polydeuekes' in the shoulder and rousing him from sleep with a single sharp pinch.
His red-orange eyes opened like a burst of flame and he stared up at Canicus, who stared down at him in mute awe. Duke became aware of the light, of Canicus' open gaze, and jerked back so quickly he nearly knocked the both of them from bed. He scrambled to his feet and in the wane light it seemed almost as if those creatures on Duke's body moved, as if the dragon blinked one great tawny eye and the snakes shifted in agitation.
"Duke," he said finally, the word scarcely a croak. "I didn't--"
Polyduekes simply disappeared. He was there one moment, his eyes heavy on Canicus' face, and gone the next, the curtains whipping behind his departure, the candle guttering out in a bitter breeze. Canicus put the candle down, struck dumb with his mistake, with his doubt. Duke was no monster; Canicus had married nothing less than a god.
+++++
Polyduekes was gone for three days.
Canicus was convinced he would never come back. He prayed to the gods, to Eros' mother Aphrodite, to Eros himself despite how foolish he felt. He prayed for conviction and strength and guidance; he asked someone, anyone, to tell him what he needed to do to reclaim Polyduekes' love. There were no answers and as the days wore on Canicus' fear that Duke was gone forever worsened. He slunk around the house, avoided company, refused advances at the door from his old friends and family; he lay in bed morose and tried desperately to think of what gesture he could possibly make to convince Duke he loved him, that what he now knew changed nothing.
Canicus slept fitfully and on the third night barely at all, waking at every sound, looking blearily about the room before resettling with a long sigh. He scarcely woke at all when Duke crept up onto the mattress beside him early in the morning, so used to Duke's weight at his back; it was only when Polyduekes breathed quietly against his neck that Canicus opened his eyes and started.
Duke went rigid but did not move back. Very, very tentatively Canicus tilted his head to the side so he could better see Polyduekes and his small, scared smile.
"Duke," Canicus said softly and when he still did not move he rolled onto his stomach entirely, pressed his body against Duke's and buried his snout in his neck. "Thank you, thank you, thank you."
Polyduekes pressed back with a soft laugh. "I just needed to know for sure," he said, "That you meant what you said. That you truly didn't mind... this."
Canicus could not help but laugh brightly at that, the volume dimmed by his proximity to Duke's chest. "Mind this?" He repeated, voice muffled by the fur. "Why would I mind this? You're incredible, Duke, and even better than that--you're all mine."
.png)
.png)
