Deadbeat “Husband” [Byzantium, 212 CE] (tag: Peitho)
Rosmerta was becoming a bit vexed with her “spouse.” Not because he was leaving his cloak crumpled in the middle of the floor. Not because he ate the last of the cheese then wondered why there wasn't anymore when she asked about it. Not because he tracked muddy footprints across her freshly cleaned floor. No, it was because he was doing absolutely none of those things. He was, apparently, missing. Or at least, missing from her life.
It wasn't that Rosmerta was incapable of being by herself. In fact, for the most part, she preferred it when others didn't get in the way of her plans. And she certainly didn't need a husband, either temporary or common-law, to make her feel complete. And it wasn't like Mercury had been the sort that was clingy or overly fond of sitting in one spot for any period of time anyway. That's what Rosmerta had adored about him; when he was there, they had a great time, and when he wasn't, she had a good time on her own. Their arrangement worked, specifically because neither one of them was the sort to want to be tied down.
But despite all of that, the fact that it had been a considerable amount of time since she'd last seen the god that mortals had dubbed her “husband,” had her just a smidge cranky. Because it wasn't like they were talking weeks. It had been long enough to be measured in more than weeks of time that had passed since she'd even heard from him, it had been months. Enough months that it was approaching a mark where it wouldn't be measured in months much longer, it would start to be measured in years. Whatever the mortals had decided their relationship was, at the very least Rosmerta had thought they were friends and he wouldn't completely abandon her.
True, he did have a bit of a habit of getting distracted by new and shiny things. Not to mention new and shiny women. And occasionally new and shiny men. When Emperor Hadrian decided to build a wall across that stupid island up north, Rosmerta hadn't seen him for weeks at a time then either. Though she very much suspected that Mercury hadn't spent all of that time in the northern part of England. He wasn't the sort to light in one place for very long. But usually when he was passing through to go to the next place that caught his fancy, he'd stop to say hello. Or at least call to tell her about something amusing he'd seen. Or leave her a gift from some odd place or another. There was usually something to let her know he was still about.
At first, it had just been a bit irksome that he'd not been by to see her. But now it was growing worrisome. Which wasn't to say that she still wasn't vastly irked, it was just matched now by her worry. There had been some rumblings, in the east, from Persia, that might prove troublesome soon for the Roman Empire, and Rosmerta wondered if her blithely chatty “husband” had gotten himself into some sort of trouble. But then she would shake her head and reassure herself that Mercury was capable of talking his way out of anything. Or into anything, and her worry would begin anew.
Which was why she was taking the unique and never-before tried approach of actually searching for her erstwhile mate. Not that she had hounds out to sniff his scent, that was a bit of an overkill. But she thought that perhaps visiting some of the places where he might have been recently wouldn't be a terribly bad idea. If she couldn't find Mercury, perhaps she could at least get word of where he was.
So she could send him a message telling him what a jerk he was for making her fret.
But first she'd have to find his whereabouts, hence her stop in Byzantium. It was an odd sort of place, she'd found. It was nominally a Roman city despite being so far from the center of the Empire, but it celebrated everything Greek and they spoke that language in the city. Because of it's location straddling two major waterways, and the only entrance to the Black Sea, it was a port city filled with people from all over the known world. Traders and shippers alike came here, seeking abundance. There was a low level buzz tugging at her everywhere she went, because it seemed everyone in this place was seeking the sort of aid her patronage provided. It was both heady and draining at the same time, and Rosmerta had a little trouble concentrating.
There were, she thought, at least half a dozen other divinities nearby, that she could tell. With so many people tugging at her core, looking for success in their ventures to provide them abundance, Rosmerta decided the sooner she found someone that could tell her where Mercury was, the better. She needed to stop spreading herself so thin to seek him, because it was starting to make her feel just a little bit drunk. That would not serve her purposes at the moment. So she headed for the nearest deity, hoping that whoever it was might have some sort of information for her.
Honestly, this was starting to feel a little bit too much like a real marriage. It was starting to feel like work.