Lessons in Magic Protection

That was a hard question, what was it like? How could he describe it? What was he supposed to compare it to? He supposed he could work with what his therapist had told him, about the ways his master treated him that weren't normal. The way his master seemed to think of him, too.

It wouldn't be correct to say that Ganymede felt pity for Wednesday, when she described her upbringing. But he did feel a sort of kinship. Being taken in by magical people, treated as property - they both knew what that was like.

So, as Wednesday continued to draw on his arm, Ganymede thought about it. And after some thought, he explained as best he could.

"My master named me after a Greek myth. In that myth, Zeus admired the beauty of a young prince named Ganymede, so he kidnapped him, and kept him as a servant, loved by all the Olympian gods except Hera. Because Hera was jealous of Zeus's other lovers."

He paused for a moment, a little unsure of himself. It was only a moment.

"My master told me the story of the original Ganymede a lot, because of how it mirrored the place in life he had envisioned for me. I would be a beloved servant, but a servant nonetheless. I was to approach him as a mortal would the gods. I was to do anything for him, and he taught me how to behave the ways he liked. Not all of the lessons were painful. Some of them were fun, like when he taught me some basic magic, or when he had me learn piano so that I could entertain him and our guests. Or when he would let me read old stories when I didn't have any cleaning to do or anything... I still like those things.

"Sometimes he was affectionate. Sometimes he would treat me more like a slave. It depended on the day."

Gany didn't know what else to say. "... Did that help?"

"Thanks." Gany beamed back at her. It was peppy, as though he hadn't just been somberly discussing his trauma moments ago.

Then, he hesitated for a moment, inspecting his free arm, but not quite able to think about it until he got one more remark off his chest: "It doesn't... necessarily bother me to talk about that time, by the way. I just don't like making people sad or uncomfortable when they hear about all of it. But you can still ask me."

He didn't mind if Wednesday asked. He thought she might understand more of it than most would. A part of him even wanted her to ask about it more, even if answering would make both of them uncomfortable, and even if discussing it would be scary, just so that he could feel understood.

But he was also content to just ogle his new arm tattoo and try to decipher it, for now.

Ganymede frowned for a moment. But only a moment - his expression returned to something more neutral.

"My master had a record player, which had a spirit trapped inside of it. It spoke to me sometimes when master was asleep and I stayed up cleaning. I used to like it. It was one of my only friends. Then it convinced me to set it free, and it killed our master in his sleep."

And that wasn't his fault, Gany reminded himself. No matter how much he used to blame himself. He was getting a little emotional about this - Wednesday probably could have asked about anything else without him getting emotional.

"I still think it liked me, though. It knew someone would come and keep treating me as a slave, and it tried to save me from that. But I didn't want to run away with it because... well, I hated it." It made him feel embarrassed to admit it. "And when it gave me the power to run away by myself, I didn't want to use that either. So I just let the people who came sell me back. And I behaved myself."

A lot of him still wished he hadn't. Maybe he could have come here, met Monday and Candle and everyone, without having to live through those other things first.