Dionysos laid in a different grassy glade, this one his home on Mount Olympus. It was like many spots he had found on earth to frolic in, but like none of them, everything on Olympus touched by the rare air, the many footsteps of the gods. To his mortal Maenads it made it simply amazing, vegetation and air like nowhere on earth. To Dionysos, that was its drawback, it was in some way simply a pale imitation of the true wildness that could not exist in a place like this.
It was a new scent that first drew his attention, noticeably different than the grass underneath his skin. A different grass, a different air, warmer and lusher, and with a perfume he could distinctly place. The whisper of her words came next after the scent, as if he needed them. A smile tickled the corners of his mouth as he reached his senses down, finding her there in that glade. It had been a long, long time since he had been there, and he would not have remembered it if not for her. But who would forget the spot where Love found you?
Dionysos stood, stretching languidly as he glanced about at his followers. He was tempted to leave them here, but he recalled Freyja had enjoyed them. Perhaps she was one who liked a crowd. And how could he deny his wild ones the chance to meet her themselves. Clapping his hands wildly he called them all over to him, nymph, satyr and Maenad alike. Striking up their music, they followed him in procession as he moved across the grass sliding them all gently from one glade to another one.
Freyja would hear them first, then see them as they filed out from the trees, Dionysos plucking a plump fruit with delight. The fruit of mortal earth, maybe being closer to the earth mother gave it its special aura. Taking a bite, he stepped across the grass towards the goddess, feeling underdressed in only a pair of loose trousers tied with a hemp cord. "Why, you have caught me unawares, with no feast meant for a beauty like you," he cooed, flashing his smile.