"For a friend with an understanding heart is worth no less than a brother."

-Homer, The Odyssey

Chapter 2: Turning of the Tide

The Next Morning

Apollo was walking slowly through a wooded area. It was a beautiful morning, but he was having trouble understanding why he felt so happy. He plopped down onto the forest floor and began to braid his hair, tying it back with an ornate piece of leather that Hermes had given him last Yule. 'Wouldn't it be easier to just cut your hair?' the childish god teased.

He had smiled gently, the way he always did when about to explain something to his younger friend. 'My hair is a part of me. Each morning, the sun touches it just like it touches my arms, my legs, my eyes. Would I cut off any of those things?'

Hermes had rolled his eyes, something he did so often that Apollo thought it should become his trademark. 'The sun would touch your hair even if it were a bit shorter, Apollo…'

"Apollo!" a familiar voice called, and he turned around to face none other than Hermes himself. The messenger held a package in his hands. "For you. It's from Hephaestus," Hermes muttered, thrusting the package into Apollo's arms and quickly turning away. Apollo, confused by this behavior but choosing to ignore it for now, ripped open the package. It contained several silver arrows. The note read simply, "A new creation. These are unbreakable." Apollo smiled. He had always been rather fond of Hephaestus, who was permanently lame due to one of Hera's fits of rage, during which the queen had thrown him from the heavens.

"I'll have to make sure to visit him soon," Apollo said aloud, making a mental note to himself.

"What did he say?" Hermes asked, now sounding grumpier than ever.

"He sent me some new arrows," Apollo responded, positively baffled. Had he done something to upset his friend? "What's wrong with you?"

Hermes was almost never angry; he had a wide reputation for being the happiest, friendliest Olympian.

"Nothing is wrong with me. I just don't feel well." The answer wasn't a complete lie, Apollo sensed, nor was it totally truthful.

"Is it something I could help with?"

"I don't know – maybe." The answer was so soft that no mortal could have possibly heard it, and almost as soon as the words left his mouth, Hermes whirled around and flew into the sky, leaving behind a very confused Apollo.

Afternoon would find the god of light strolling along the shore, seemingly oblivious to the fact that he was being watched. He kicked off his sandals, sat down, and put his feet in the wet sand where small waves washed ashore. From the folds of his chiton, he removed the lyre that Hermes had given to him so many years ago. Heart-breaking music flowed from the strings that his nimble fingers were dancing across, and lyrics fell from his perfectly-sculpted lips.

It was several moments before he realized that he was not the only one singing.

Apollo smiled, recognizing the voice, and continued to play until the song was finished. The last note faded away. Apollo sat down the lyre and glanced up at the tree where he knew Hermes was hiding. He caught a glimpse of the messenger perched up on the highest branch. The smile widened. He jumped to his feet and easily scaled the tree until he was face-to-face with Hermes.

"What are you doing up here?" Apollo asked, amused. He would never admit to himself just how endearing he found the sight of the small god balancing on a tree branch.

"None of your business," the herald responded, not meeting the other god's eyes. Despite being utterly confused at this ongoing strange behavior, Apollo smiled gently and said, "You are a mystery to me, dear friend."

Apollo could sense the turmoil that was going on inside Hermes' mind, but still couldn't think of anything he had done to upset the messenger.

"You're a mystery to everyone in Olympus," the younger god declared in a testy voice.

Apollo found the statement amusing, but Hermes only looked more upset at the sound of his laugh. "And how, may I ask, am I a mystery?"

"You're so quiet," Hermes murmured. "People can always see that you're thinking, but we never know what about."

Apollo smiled. "Oh, I'm probably just writing songs. Now, before I die of curiosity, will you please tell me why you're in a tree?"

"I – I don't know," Hermes admitted, casting his eyes downwards.

"Maybe you just wanted to be close to your best friend," Apollo teased. His laughter died down when he saw that the other god still had a serious expression on his face. It was almost as though he were pondering the words.

Deciding that a change of subject was necessary, Apollo swept his braid over his shoulder and jumped to the ground, gesturing for Hermes to follow him. "You're so bossy," the messenger said under his breath, but followed suit. He took a seat next to his friend, removing his winged sandals so that he, too, could put his feet in the water. When he reached up to remove the cap, Apollo found himself watching with interest. He couldn't remember the last time he had seen the herald without his signature cap.

With a tired sigh, Hermes pushed the cap off with his hands and set it down next to his sandals. Apollo stared at his head. The cap had come off, but the wings were still on, white as snow. Wavy black hair fell against his shoulders, bringing out his vivid green eyes. He looked like a completely different person. The wings were attached to a band of gold that wound across the other's head, resting on his forehead and disappearing underneath his mop of hair. Slowly, Apollo reached out and touched the band, slipping his finger underneath it before pulling it off completely. He set it next to the sandals and cap. "Now I know you can't fly away," he whispered, tilting his head and gazing at his friend. At the moment, Hermes looked nothing like the impish child that Apollo had come to adore. His face was set in a serious expression, replacing the sly grin that he was so famous for. His frame was smaller than Apollo's, and his face was a few years younger, but he had the intelligence that centuries of life had given him.

"You're beautiful." The words slipped out of Apollo's mouth before he had comprehended the sentence. He was surprised to see a blush forming upon the other's cheeks.

"No, I'm not," he mumbled. Apollo was surprised and then upset. He hated it when others couldn't see their own beauty. Especially when it was so obvious.

"Hermes," the elder said. "There are thousands of mortal men who would sacrifice anything to look like you." He touched his hair briefly before disappearing in a flash of golden light.

Apollo sat at the very peak of a mountain, his head resting on the back of a female deer. He was singing softly, but his mind was truly in other places.

He truly is one of the most beautiful creatures I have ever seen. And Apollo had seen many: Paris, the Prince of Troy. Hyacinth, a Spartan Prince. But none could hold a candle to the herald of the gods.

He sighed and reached back to stroke the head of the doe. As he did so, he pulled his legs closer to his chest and gazed at the trees high above. Apollo remembered when those trees were saplings, just beginning to pop out of the earth. Now they were tall and mighty, the life source of the mortals that now populated this planet.

"Isn't it a beautiful morning?" a voice asked. Apollo turned around to see Demeter standing mere feet away, holding a basket filled to the brim with strawberries. She was barefoot and wore a thin silk gown. Apollo nodded in greeting.

She sat down her basket and took a seat beside the doe. "Sometimes, Apollo, I believe you spend more time outside than I do," she teased.

"Bathing in the sun and talking with animals inspires music and poetry more so than sitting inside, listening to my brothers and sisters argue," he said logically.

She nodded in understanding and ran her fingers through the doe's fur. "The animals love you. The world loves you."

"I have done nothing to deserve such love, but I welcome it with open arms."

"You are one of the universe's most beautiful creations, nephew."

Apollo had heard this before, but had never truly believed it. "Beauty is in the eye of the beholder."

She nodded once again. "Precisely. And there has never been a soul that looked upon you with distaste. Mortals that look upon you fall in love. Sometimes, gods do as well."

"That sounds more like Aphrodite than me," Apollo said with a small laugh.

Demeter looked up from the doe and smiled. "Ah, but many shy away from Aphrodite's manipulations and temper. You are the god of truth, and even in anger, you are calm."

Before he could reply, a voice echoed through the woods. "Demeter!" A second later, Artemis appeared. In her arms, she carried a small wolf. "Look what I found wandering around." A wide smile was spread across her lovely face as she showed the animal to Demeter.

"You aren't going to have Hestia make a stew from it, are you?" Apollo asked warily.

She laughed and shook her head before placing the baby wolf in his arms.

"What's this for?" her twin asked, struggling to keep a grip on the squirming animal.

"You look as though you need a friend," she replied.

Apollo watched as his twin and Demeter shared a knowing look. He shrugged it off and lifted the wolf up to his face.

"What's your name?" he asked as it attempted to lick his nose.

"It's a she," Artemis informed him.

"Then we shall call you Angelia," Apollo told the wolf, touching his nose to hers and trying not to think about why he had chosen a name that meant "Messenger". Apollo noticed that Artemis and Demeter were staring at one another once more, small smirks on their faces.

"What?" he demanded, standing up and holding the wolf close to his chest.

"It's a beautiful name," Demeter said in her gentle voice.

He relaxed.

"Good luck, brother," Artemis said, and before Apollo could ask what she meant, the two disappeared with flashes of gold and green light.

He sighed. "It's just us," he whispered to his new pet.

2 Years Later

When Apollo awoke, he discovered that one side of his face was damp. He groaned and rolled over, only to be met with a face full of thick fur. "Angelia," he groaned again. Her copper eyes shone at him innocently, and he laughed before scratching behind her ears. "Is that your way of telling me to get up?"

She licked his face in reply.

The wolf had grown to the size of a pony. Her paws were as big as Apollo's hands and she stood up to his waist. Her fur was light gray, with black along the sides of her face. She was one of the most beautiful animals that the blonde god had ever seen.

"Angelia!" a voice called. "Where are you? I have breakfast!" And suddenly, the messenger of the gods appeared in Apollo's doorway, holding a plate full of raw meat. Apollo eyed the plate and drawled, "I hope this isn't your idea of breakfast in bed."

Hermes grinned. "Only for your dog. She wouldn't leave me alone."

With a rumbling bark, Angelia jumped off the bed and trotted over to the messenger, jumping up and resting her front paws on his shoulders. Apollo smiled at the sight and tried not to be jealous of his wolf.

"I love you too," Hermes whispered to the wolf, before removing her paws and setting her food down. Apollo let out a sigh, trying not to think about why he was wishing that Hermes was speaking to him instead of Angelia.

Hermes straightened up and flashed another smile at his friend. "Come on, lazy. Hestia is making breakfast."

Apollo threw the furs off of his lap and crawled out of bed. Searching through his trunk, he found a fresh set of robes and slipped them on. He began to sing as he searched around for his sandals.

"No wonder you're the god of music," Hermes teased. Apollo ignored him and continued to sing, slipping on his sandals and then pushing his hair out of my face.

"Let's go."

A month later – Greek Invasion of the Trojan City

Apollo shouldered his bow before striding into a courtyard with Prince Paris at his heels. With a booted foot, the god rolled Achilles over so that he was lying on his back, his glazed eyes staring at the night sky. Apollo leaned over him until his eyes caught mine and widened with recognition. Apollo gave him a nasty smile. "The god of truth does not tell lies, Achilles," he said softly. "I told you that you would die at my hands." In one fluid motion, he reached behind his back and grabbed the hero's sobbing lover, dragging her until her face was above his. "And this traitor…" he tightened his grip until she cried out. "She will die upon your grave." Apollo threw her down next to Achilles.

The god of light had barely straightened up when the earth began to shake beneath his feet. Pieces of stone from crumbling buildings fell to the ground around him. Screams pierced the night. "It's Zeus!" someone cried out hysterically. "He is angry that we have destroyed the city!"

Apollo frowned, knowing that Zeus had declared neutrality. There was only one person besides himself that would dare to make a personal appearance at such a crucial moment.

Hermes.

Trying to ignore a sudden wave of fear, Apollo closed his eyes and willed himself to appear by the messenger's side.

A moment later, he opened his eyes.

The light from the burning city made it possible to see the gold of the messenger's winged sandals, barely visible inside the crater that he had created upon impact. Apollo ran to him, pulling his limp body from the hole. His cap had fallen off, and his dark hair hung freely around his face. "You fool," Apollo whispered, brushing dirt from his face. The wings on his sandals were still moving feebly. Apollo laid his hands on the younger god's cheeks, prepared to use his powers as the god of healing to fix his friend. But before he could do so, he felt himself being pulled from the earth. It was as if a giant hand had swept him from his feet and was pulling him towards the heavens - which was probably the case. Apollo cursed his father and clung tightly to Hermes, making sure not to let him fall. Mere seconds later, he found myself in the palace on Mount Olympus with six angry faces in front of him. "What?" he snapped, not missing a beat.

"What," Zeus hissed, "did you think you were doing?! The Trojans must lose this war!"

Apollo took a leaf out of Hermes' book and rolled his eyes. "If it is fate for the Trojans to lose, then lose they shall. It matters not what I do."

"You just added unnecessary years to this war, brother." This time it was Athena who spoke up, and Apollo rounded on her.

"Because of you and your ingenious wooden horse, Troy is falling rapidly."

"It needed to be done!" She defended her actions, stepping forward. Apollo held his ground. "The sieges on the wall were going nowhere!"

Artemis moved to her twin's side, touching his shoulder protectively. "Achilles was meant to die after he slayed Hector." Her words sounded calm, but a subtle warning was laced in.

"That doesn't mean we had to kill him!" Athena ground out.

"Apollo, you had no right…" Hera began, but was almost instantly cut off by Ares.

"This is a war!" he shouted. "Since when do right and wrong matter?"

"Since we have a reputation to uphold!" Aphrodite replied, glaring at her lover.

"Reputation?" Hephaestus, her husband, snorted with laughter. "What kind of reputation do you think all of your little affairs give us?"

Amidst all the shouting, Hermes began to stir in Apollo's arms.

"Be quiet!" Apollo roared to the others, and silence instantly fell. "Hermes is hurt, and all you can do is stand here and fight with each other. You disgust me." With that said, he made his way to his room, Hermes in his arms.

In the quiet atmosphere of his room, Apollo was singing softly while he waited for Hermes to come to.

He didn't notice at first when the messenger's eyes peeked open

"Apollo," Hermes' voice croaked. Apollo's head shot up faster than one of his arrows.

"Hermes," he exclaimed, climbing to his feet. "How are you feeling?"

Hermes groaned and wiggled slightly. "Like I was just hit by one of Zeus' thunderbolts," he admitted, sounding ashamed.

"You're such a fool!" Apollo declared, his voice slightly higher than normal. "Why did you follow me?"

Hermes, looking upset, struggled to sit up. "I didn't follow you," he said, sounding pained. "I was watching—"

"You can spare me the lecture," Apollo interrupted, his face contorting into a scowl. "Everyone else beat you to it."

"Good!" Hermes snapped, crossing his arms. "Maybe you'll learn not to act like a child – holding silly grudges—you're a god, for Zeus's sake! You're supposed to be the bigger person! You can't just smite everyone that upsets you. "

This time, Apollo didn't respond. Judging by the look on Hermes' face, the messenger knew he had crossed a line. One of the things that Apollo hated most in the world was others questioning his judgment.

Before Hermes could apologize, Apollo turned on his heel and stormed out of his own room.

The tension level on Mount Olympus had reached its peak. Those in favor of the Greeks were still furious at Apollo for slaying Achilles. The Trojan supporters were moody because their side was destined to lose anyway.

The ongoing feud between Apollo and Hermes was not helping matters. Without Apollo's singing voice echoing throughout the palace or Hermes' impish smile and unexpected pranks, nobody knew what to think. Zeus was getting irritated, and could often be heard muttering, "I knew we shouldn't have interfered with the war."

Mealtimes were the worst part. In the past, it was always Hermes that began conversations and provided lively chatter. Now the messenger concentrated on his food, and the resulting silence was very tense. Children of the Olympians had been warned not to visit, and Hades, mourning the loss of Persephone's company, had become more unbearable than usual.

Finally, someone broke the ice. Funnily enough, it was Dionysus in one of his drunken states. A meeting had been called to make a decision about the war. Hermes had been the last to arrive, and the only available seat happened to be next to Apollo. Several moments passed in silence while the messenger god remained in the doorway, and Apollo stared at the table like it was the most interesting thing in the world. When no one had spoken or moved for five whole minutes, Dionysus jumped to his feet, knocking over his goblet of wine in the process (Aphrodite promptly screamed when the liquid spilled on her dress). "This is ridiculous!" the youngest god declared, and everyone looked at him in shock (even though he was well known for doing unexpected things). "Hermes," he burped. "You're going to sit here." He pointed somewhere to the right of the vacant chair. "And you and 'Pollo are gonna live happily ever…" he blinked rapidly, looking slightly confused.

"After?" Ares equipped with a smirk.

"Yes!" Dionysus screamed happily, pounding Ares on the back. "You are so smart." In spite of himself, Hermes began to giggle from the doorway. Grins spread across the faces of the gods, and Poseidon burst out laughing. Dionysus' youthful face was contorted with bemusement. "It's true! Ares is smart!"

"Sit down, brother," Ares chortled. Hermes had made his way into the room and slid into the seat beside Apollo. Even if the two didn't look at each other, it was a step forward, and Zeus began the meeting with a smile.

Several Years Later

The palace was noticeably empty. Athena had been scarce for a long time. She was staying close to Odysseus, aiding him on his treacherous journey home from Troy - most of the Olympians were doing everything in the power to kill him. They had taken the murder of Hector's son personally.

Poseidon had been staying in his own temple, doing his best to make the voyage home for the Greeks as turbulent as possible. Wrecking ships had become his favorite pastime.

Hades, too, was absent. The season had turned cold – it was time for Persephone to return to the Underworld. He wouldn't leave his kingdom until spring.

Ares, Artemis, Hestia, and Demeter had gone to visit the ruins of Troy, looking for any survivors. Zeus and Hera had gone on vacation, and without the king of gods around, there was very little mail for Hermes to deliver. That was how the messenger and Apollo came to be alone in the palace one afternoon.

Apollo was in a courtyard, playing with Angelia. He had made her a toy ball out of tightly wound rags, and was teaching her to fetch. "Go get the ball!" the golden-haired god shouted, throwing the toy. He blanched and chuckled when it hit a statue of Zeus on the head, not realizing that he was being watched.

The archer sighed when his wolf refused to go after the ball. He put his hands on his hips, eyeing the stubborn creature that was wagging her tail and blinking at her master innocently. "Fine, have it your way," he declared, turning around and looking for his lyre. He saw it leaning against a bust of Athena. "I can always practice my music."

He picked up the instrument and settled down on a soft patch of grass. His fingers hadn't yet touched the strings when he was struck by a flashback.

The infant Hermes was picking up a turtle and using its shell and intestines to make a strange piece of art. The child - no doubt the result of one of Zeus' many adulterous escapades - began playing beautiful music with the new instrument. Apollo was absolutely stunned by the nimbleness of the newborn's fingers. How could a child invent such a beautiful thing in the space of a few moments?

X

Apollo was holding the mischievous infant, on his way to Mount Olympus. Glancing down, he noticed that the child had the greenest eyes that he had ever seen.

When he tilted his head, Hermes grabbed a handful of his hair. The baby cooed, awed by the softness of the golden tresses, and attempted to reach up for another handful. Apollo chuckled and leaned back, earning a disappointed look from the infant. "Gee!" the baby demanded, but the older god shook his head and smiled. "Tis not polite to grab someone's hair," he admonished.

X

"Apollo!" a young Hermes cried out, running out of the forest and blocking the line of Apollo's shot. The Sun God lowered his bow and scowled. "What?"

Hermes smiled teasingly. "Don't be grumpy. Look what I found!" He held up a strange looking animal. Its face was pointy, its tail long and bushy.

"What is it?" Apollo asked warily. The animal squirmed in Hermes' arms.

"I don't know," the young god admitted. "It was climbing a tree when I found it."

"What are you going to call it?"

Hermes thought for several seconds before smiling. "How about…skiouros? Because of its tail?"

Apollo had to laugh. The Greek word meant shadow-tailed. "I think that's a good name."

And thus the squirrel received its name.

X

Apollo and Hermes were lying in a field beneath the stars. Despite the warmth radiating from the god of light, Hermes was covered with a wool blanket. The twinkling light from the above sky was reflected in his green eyes. A slight frown was upon his lips. "Apollo?" he finally asked. "Why doesn't Zeus want Hera to know that I'm his son?"

Apollo turned his head towards the younger god, and blonde hair spilled across his cheek. He thought for a moment before answering. "Because Hera is the Goddess of Marriage. She gets angry when Zeus has affairs, and he doesn't want to upset her."

The frown got bigger. "I want to live in the palace," he complained. Apollo hated to see his friend upset. He sighed.

"I'll tell Hera that you're Zeus' son."

A wide smile crossed the messenger's face, but a second later it faltered. "She won't hurt me, will she?"

"I would never let anyone hurt you."

X

"I won't let you touch him!" Apollo shouted, shielding the small form of Hermes with his body. Hera's rage was written across her face. Zeus had long ago fled from the room. "He has as much right to be here as you do!"

"No, he doesn't!" she snarled, again attempting to grab the terrified messenger. Apollo shoved her away before grabbing his bow and fitting an arrow in it. He aimed the tip between her eyes. She stopped moving.

"You will treat him like he is your own son!"

She huffed and shoved past the two men, storming through the doorway.

Apollo bit his lip, holding the lyre closer to his body. He missed his best friend - the cheeky grin, the sarcastic comments, even the thievery. It had been more than five years since they had spoken properly.

"Hermes," he whispered, feeling broken. It was like a piece of him was missing.

"Yes?" a warm, familiar voice asked. Apollo looked up in surprise, and was instantly overcome by the sight of emerald green eyes. The object of his thoughts was sitting in front of him. Without a word, Apollo enveloped the messenger in his arms.

"I missed you, too," Hermes sighed, answering the unspoken statement. Apollo pressed a kiss to his exposed neck.

"Don't leave me alone again," the older god said quietly. It was an unusual display of vulnerability.

"Never," Hermes whispered in reply, actually sounding like he meant it. Apollo heard him inhale deeply.

They stayed like that for a while, making up for lost time. "I'm sorry," Hermes said eventually, his voice muffled against Apollo's cloak.

"Don't be. You have nothing to be sorry for."

Hermes didn't argue, but instead leaned up and kissed Apollo's earlobe. The blonde god shivered as he felt Hermes take the sensitive skin into his mouth and bite down gently. Then the messenger giggled, and Apollo shoved him away. "You're evil!" he exclaimed.

"It's been said," Hermes teased.

Apollo sighed with content. "I missed you so much."

Hermes scoffed. "Why would someone like you miss little old me?"

"You are truly the most amazing person I have ever had the honor to meet," was the simple reply. A blush colored Hermes' cheeks.

Because both gods were under the impression that they were alone at the palace, it came as a shock when a sharp voice cut through the air. "What is going on here?!" Peering over Hermes' shoulder, Apollo was horrified to see the intimidating form of Zeus silhouetted in a nearby doorway.

"Uh oh," Apollo said in Hermes' ear.

"He's standing right behind us, isn't he?" Hermes asked. To a stranger he might have sounded calm, but Apollo could hear the dread in his voice.

Zeus didn't give Apollo the chance to answer. Storming over to the couple, he grabbed Hermes by the arm and threw him away from the blonde. "Answer me!" he demanded of Apollo.

"What did it look like we were doing?" Apollo snapped. "Shouldn't you be happy that we're speaking to one another again? You've been griping about us ignoring each other for years now..."

Zeus glared at his favorite son. On Earth, a distant rumble of thunder could be heard. "I'm sorry, but I cannot tolerate a relationship between the two of you."

"Why not?" Apollo said in a tight voice.

"That is beside the point."

"No, father - it is actually the entire point!" His voice rose slightly, and his eyes were beginning to narrow.

"I do not have to answer your questions, Apollon. Whatever relationship you share needs to ends now."

"Give me a reason!" Apollo commanded. Zeus blinked at the authority in his favorite son's voice.

"Fine," the king conceded. He took a deep breath. "Apollo…I've arranged for you to marry Persephone."

"What?"

"Isn't she already married to Hades?" a baffled Hermes questioned.

"No, and that is exactly what I am trying to prevent." An annoyed look crossed the elder god's face. "Demeter would murder me in my bed -"

"I don't care!" Apollo cried, cutting across his father. "I don't love her - and I refuse to marry someone who spends half the year with my uncle!"

"You will grow to love her."

"I will leave Olympus if you force me to marry her," Apollo threatened.

"I grow tired of your threats, boy," Zeus said angrily. "You will marry her, and that's final."

With that, he turned on his heel and stormed out of the courtyard.

It was a while before either of the remaining gods spoke.

"You're lucky," Hermes said. "Persephone is a beautiful woman."

Apollo shot him an incredulous look. "Lucky? You call this lucky?"

The only response he received was a half-hearted shrug.

"Lucky would be my father letting me be with whomever I want!" Apollo declared.

"You could do worse than Persephone. Remember –" Hermes let out a mirthless laugh. "Remember how we used to chase after her?"

Apollo cocked an eyebrow at the trip-down-memory-lane, but went along with it. "Yes, it was the first time I saw Demeter in a murderous state. She never let Persephone come back to Olympus after that."

Hermes gave a long-suffering sigh. "Things weren't as complicated back then."

Apollo had to nod in agreement, his lips turning up in a smile. He realized that Hermes was attempting to distract him from the prospect of getting married. "I remember when you shaved Ares' head while he was asleep."

Hermes smirked, and, to Apollo's relief, a spark appeared in his eyes.

Apollo laid back, his long hair trailing through the grass. He wished he could stay right there forever.