Okay, well here's the first chapter!!! Please review and tell me what you think!!! Should I bother continuing?
Chapter 1
A final wood shaving fell to the tiled floor, completing the scattered pattern that surrounded the legs of the chair, as an expert hand gently maneuvered a knife along the surface of the former block of wood, successfully detailing a last wisp of curly hair. The carver, quiet and alone, placed his instrument on the table in font of him and paused to study his work, his eyes meticulously, skillfully scrutinizing every intricate incision. After a minute and a half he made up his dissatisfied mind to be satisfied, relaxed his gaze, and let the piece lay loose in his palm. He leaned back into the chair, closed his eyes, and inhaled, feeling deeply the familiar scent of sawdust that found a home in his nose.
"Hephaestus, good morning!" Hephaestus' eyes flew open and forgot about their peace. He rose from his seat to greet the interruption, which was Mr. Filmore, a tall, muscular man with a tan face who taught the Woods classes at Mount Olympus and drank coffee at all hours of the day. He unintentionally let the door slam behind him as he fairly bounded into the school's workshop and snaked through rows of tables and chairs.
"Morning, Mr. Filmore. You're late for class," said Hephaestus with a crooked, friendly grin. Mr. Filmore reached his desk in the corner of the spacious room and set down his briefcase over piles of paper and random carving utensils.
"This isn't a class," he took a sip from a coffeehouse cup, turned to look at Hephaestus, his wide eyes peeking just above the rim, "This is fifth period, where I get to drink espresso and wish I was at least half as good as one of my particularly amazing students. My ego can afford to be late."
Hephaestus tried to laugh brightly and hobbled over to where his would-be instructor stood, his useless leg lagging behind and leaving an uneven trail through the thin film of sawdust the covered most of the workshop floor.
"I'm afraid," he sighed, handing the freshly finished figurine to Mr. Filmore's free hand, "That inspiration as left me for the last week. It's nothing really special." Mr. Filmore loudly slurped more from his coffee and flipped the piece over in the large hollow of his palm. He blinked and rose an eyebrow.
"Well," he chuckled, "it definitely reminds me of a certain someone." Hephaestus' cheeks flushed pink and he averted his vision to things around the room that were suddenly fascinating. He scratched the back of his head and stammered.
"Oh, well, you know, I was just…just, uh, it was the first thing that…you know, came to mind, I guess…" The corner of Mr. Filmore's lips turned up slightly, but for a moment his eyes hung sadly downward. He held the carving out to return it to its creator.
"But you're right, it's not your best," he said, and set his coffee next to his briefcase. "What's up with that?" Fascinating things now very dull, Hephaestus' gaze pensively settled on his feet. Mr. Filmore cocked his head to the side and crossed his arms. "Something wrong?"
Hephaestus reflected to himself that the wood shavings from his carving were the same color as her real hair. It almost made him smile. He sighed again, and a moment later met his teacher's eyes and furrowed his brow. "My sister's upset with me."
"I'm so upset with him, Hera. So upset. How could he do this to me? I'm his sister."
Athena angrily punctured several pieces of lettuce and a crouton with her fork and thrust it into her mouth, as if she could consume her frustration by consuming her lunch. Across the table from her, Hera picked at her own salad and rose a disgusted eyebrow at both Athena's comment and a boisterous group of mortals who occupied the table next to them in the busy cafeteria.
"I know," she said, "It's as if he, like…doesn't even like you or something." Athena put her fork down and gave small sigh.
"No, it's not like that," she replied, shaking her head at her salad, "It's just that that stupid girl controls him so much that he can't even occasionally make his own sister a priority. You know, I don't even think that she's actually asked him for it. He just thought she would like it, and so, in his mind, it's automatically hers."
Hera nodded and then a thought visibly crossed her mind. "What does it even look like?"
"What, the jewel?" Athena pushed her salad away. "It's so gorgeous. It's in the shape of an apple-"
"An apple?"
"Yeah, an apple. I know it sounds weird, but it's really beautiful. It's eighteen karat gold, and the stem and the leaves are made of diamonds. It would look lovely on a chain, and even lovelier with my prom dress."
There was a brief silence as both girls envisioned the jewel in her mind, Hera with curiosity, Athena with longing. A moment later Athena's face set hard and she looked her friend in the eye.
"I have to have that jewel, Hera."
Hera cocked her head to the side. "How're you going to do that, hun? Won't Aphrodite throw a fit if she ends up wanting it and figures out that Hephaestus gave it to you first?"
Athena found the corner of her mouth curving up mischievously. She leaned forward and motioned for Hera to do the same. Her eyes flashed and she whispered in Hera's ear, "Not if they're not together."
Hera gasped and brought her hand to her mouth. "Athena!"
Athena slouched back again into her chair and crossed her arms. Her brow creased. "I know, I know. It sounds like a mean thing to do, but, Hera…" she paused, and suddenly her eyes were not looking at the girl across from her, or at anything else in the cafeteria. "It would be better. For him. He needs…not Aphrodite. He needs someone who actually, you know…" She studied Hera's expression sideways and searched for any signs of understanding, but Hera's eyes were vacant. Hera bit her lip and moved her head from side to side.
"Someone who…?"
Athena looked away again. "Never mind. Are finished with your lunch?" Hera, comprehending this new question, said she was and both girls simultaneously stood, neglected to push in their chairs, and carried their trays to the conveyer belt that would transport their dishes to the dishroom. On their way out of the cafeteria, Hera began to gush and giggle about Zeus' latest victory for the Academic Decathlon team, and Athena pretended to listen. Her mind, however, was otherwise occupied with further convincing her conscience that her little brother most certainly was better off without his girlfriend.
He needs someone who actually loves him, she told it.
Her conscience was satisfied, and she found new resolve to make it happen.
