"I'm looking at you through the glass
Don't know how much time has passed
Oh, God, it feels like forever
But no one ever tells you that forever feels like home
Sitting all alone inside your head
So while you're outside looking in
Describing what you see
Remember what you're staring at is me."
-Stone Sour, Through the Glass
Chapter 12: Quest
And thus it was that Hermes spent the next week delivering the late messages, crossing names off the scroll as he went. The job was easy enough, if not rather exhausting. He simply had to concentrate on a person's name, and his wings flew him to their location (although he still hadn't figured out how to control the speed). He used his powers to summon the proper message – it was considerably easier than digging around for it by hand.
He met many famous people while on the job, including the president of the United States, Her Majesty the Queen, and Paul McCartney. He left Oprah's house after a long talk that left him feeling much better about life, and Rachael Ray's house with a plate of cookies for himself and recipes for Hestia.
When the last letter had been delivered, Hermes flew back to his apartment with his eyes half-closed. He stumbled through the front door and began making his way back towards his bedroom. It didn't come as any surprise when he ran into someone on the way there.
"Get out of my way," he mumbled, not bothering to see who it was. "'M tired."
"I made you something to eat," a soft, familiar voice said. "I thought you might be hungry."
Hermes let out a small hum; Eros's velveteen voice was like music to his ears. "Alright," he agreed, and let the winged god lead him back to the kitchen.
He ate the food in a mechanic manner, not sure what it was he was putting in his mouth, only that it was delicious. Eros sat across from him, watching him with those lovely dark eyes. Hermes noticed that his wings were hidden beneath some kind of glamour, but it didn't keep him from looking any less alluring.
How does he do this to me? Hermes thought, absently twirling a fork between his fingers as he stared back at his companion.
They sat in silence. Hermes hadn't noticed that his plate had vanished as soon as he had eaten the last morsel of food. The apartment was dark, the only light coming from a single candle in the center of the table that the messenger didn't recall putting there.
The candlelight made Eros look more ethereal than usual; Hermes was sure that he was glowing in the dimness of the room.
Emerald eyes gazed into midnight blue, and Hermes felt himself draw in a shuddering breath. "It's you, isn't it?" he heard himself say.
"What do you mean?" Eros asked quietly.
"You're him. You're Acestor."
Eros didn't answer, and Hermes knew that he had his answer.
But his mind was too foggy to ask any more questions, and before he knew what was happening, his eyes had drifted shut. "Acestor," he murmured just before falling asleep.
He woke up the next morning in his own bed but unsure of how he got there. The last thing he remembered was coming home and meeting Eros.
He shrugged it off and climbed out of bed, intent on eating a good breakfast.
Today he found Artemis, Aphrodite, and Athena in his living room. A Cretan Hound was curled up on the couch with its head in Artemis's lap. Hermes glanced at it and said, "I'm not supposed to have animals in here, you know."
Artemis didn't bat an eye. "I'll need to have a talk with whoever came up with that rule."
Hermes chuckled as he pulled a carton of eggs out of the fridge and set a skillet on the stovetop.
Athena stood up and joined him in the kitchen. "I've been meaning to ask," she said casually. "How are things with Apollon?"
Hermes raised his eyebrows at her as he waited for the skillet to heat up. "Fine, I guess. I haven't seen him all week."
She gave a small smile. "I meant in the romantic sense."
"Ah," Hermes said, cracking an egg. "Well, I don't really know. We haven't talked about it."
She pursed her lips. "Hermes, you're the Lord of Communication, and this should be high on your list of things to discuss."
He shrugged, looking around for a spatula. He grinned when Athena produced one out of thin air and handed it to him. "Thanks. And it isn't that I'm incapable of talking about, just that I really don't want to."
"Any particular reason why?" Athena asked casually.
Hermes glanced up into her ancient, all-knowing eyes, and realized that she knew about Eros.
"Love triangles are so romantic," Aphrodite sighed. She had appeared at Athena's elbow.
"There's nothing romantic about this situation," Hermes grumbled, flipping the eggs. "And I'm not in love with Eros."
"Is he not good enough for you?" Aphrodite asked, her tone dangerous.
Hermes winced; he had forgotten that she was his mother. "Of course he's good enough, but I love Apollon."
She relaxed, looking slightly mollified. "Good. Do you have any orange juice?"
He nodded and she moved towards the fridge.
"Love is a tricky thing," Athena said, her voice soft. "It comes in all different forms."
"I know that," Hermes muttered, trying to hide his frustration with the topic.
She hummed. "How do you feel about what you learned last night?"
"What do you mean?" Hermes asked, flipping the eggs onto a plate.
"About Eros."
He paused, holding the plate. "I learned something about Eros?"
Her mercury eyes studied his face. Aphrodite had slipped out of the room. "You don't remember?"
Hermes shook his head, feeling confused. "No – I don't really remember anything after I came home. I know he was here, but I thought he left after I went to bed."
"He did," Athena agreed. "But something happened before that. You learned something important."
"...I did?" Hermes asked blankly.
"Indeed. Now, please excuse me. There's something I need to do."
Hermes opened his mouth to protest, but she vanished with a flash of bright light before he could. He stood there in his kitchen, holding his eggs that were rapidly becoming cold, and wondering what in the name of Zeus she had been talking about.
"Why don't I remember anything?" Hermes fumed, pacing back and forth in front of Loki and Alex. "It doesn't make any sense!"
"Maybe he drugged you," Alex suggested, and Hermes paused to consider his words.
"I don't think so," Loki disagreed. "There would be other symptoms if he had. I think it's more likely that there's someone that doesn't want you to remember what happened."
Hermes let out a string of curses in Greek. "That's just lovely. Just what I need – someone else deciding what's best for me!"
Loki frowned. "Things like this aren't usually heard of."
Once again, Hermes stopped in his tracks to stare at his friend. "It has happened, though?"
Loki shrugged, putting his feet on the coffee table. "Sure. In our world, if the Norns decide that someone has veered too far off their path for whatever reason, they'll step in and set them right."
"The Norns?" Hermes asked, thoroughly lost.
"They're the goddesses who rule destiny," Loki explained. "You have them too, but I forget what they're called."
"The Moirai," Alex said. "Better known as the Fates. Not anyone you want to mess with."
"I didn't mess with them!"
"If they're the ones who took away your memory, you've done something they didn't like."
"What did Athena say about last night?" Loki asked, leaning forward.
Hermes chewed on the corner of his lip. "Just that I'd learned something important about Eros."
"Then maybe they don't want you messing with Eros," Loki proposed. "They wouldn't be the only ones."
"What's your problem?" Hermes demanded. "He hasn't done anything to you!"
"You're right," Alex said soothingly. Loki was gaping at the unexpected outburst. "He hasn't. Loki is just looking out for you. Eros is a powerful god, Hermes. He's one of the primeval ones."
"What does that mean?"
"It means that he sprung from Chaos at the beginning of all things."
"That doesn't make any sense. I thought he was Aphrodite's son."
"She sort of adopted him. They've been joined at the hip ever since she was born."
Hermes blinked rapidly at this new information. If what Alex was saying was true, then Eros was older than all of them put together – not to mention one of the most powerful gods in existence.
"He has the power of love," Alex continued. "Some people think that love is the most powerful weapon there is."
Hermes wanted to disagree, wanted to say that things like nuclear weapons or Zeus's thunderbolts were much more powerful than love, but he didn't have the will to argue. It felt like his head was spinning.
"It doesn't matter if he has the power of love," Hermes finally said. "Because I don't love him. I love Apollon."
Loki and Alex glanced at each other, and Hermes knew that neither of them believed him. His suspicions were confirmed when Loki said, "We're not saying that you fell in love with him willingly, Hermes. There's a chance that he manipulated you into feeling this way."
"You sound like a paranoid old man," Hermes snapped. "Pretty soon you'll be talking about how the end of the world is coming."
"It is coming," Loki said, and Alex let out a bark of laughter.
"Yeah, whatever," Hermes said, crossing his arms. "The bottom the line is that even though I find him attractive, I definitely don't love him. Now, what are we going to do about these Fates?"
Alex looked alarmed. "What do you mean? We aren't going to do anything about them."
"They took my memories!"
"I'm sure they had a reason to. And if they decided that's what's best, then you shouldn't question it."
"I'll question anyone who messes around with my head," Hermes declared.
Loki groaned, burying his face in his hands. "I liked you a lot better before Hera threw you off the mountain."
Alex nodded in agreement, and Hermes rolled his eyes at them. "Are you going to help me or not?"
There was a moment of silence, and then Loki sighed. "Sure, why not? I guess it doesn't matter if I die now or during Ragnarok."
"What exactly are you planning on doing?" Alex said reluctantly.
After delivering the day's messages, Hermes walked into his apartment to find Apollon sitting on his couch, staring at his reflection in in a handheld mirror.
"So are you the fairest of them all?" Hermes asked with a snicker.
"I don't know. Am I?" the blonde asked mysteriously.
Hermes tossed his jacket onto a nearby chair and moved to sit next to his lover. He gazed into the mirror, watching his own reflection stare at Apollon's unusually forlorn forlorn expression. "What's wrong?"
"Do you find think Eros is more handsome than I am?" Apollon blurted out.
Hermes raised his eyebrows, and his reflection followed suit. "You're both extremely attractive, just in different ways. I've got to tell you, though…I'm sick of talking about him. How about we talk about – um – other things?" His voice was very suggestive, and he leaned forward with the intention of kissing Apollon – but the blond was still frowning at the mirror.
"What now?" Hermes asked grumpily.
"You didn't answer me."
Hermes groaned and slumped back against the couch cushions. "Apollon, this is ridiculous. You're acting like a child."
"Was that supposed to make me feel better?"
Hermes gave a wry smile. "No."
"I didn't think so."
"Listen to me," Hermes said sharply, and Apollon looked up to meet his eyes. "You are beautiful, smart, and talented. You can also be a sulky, jealous, petty asshole. And that's exactly why I love you."
"I'm not sure if I should be offended or flattered," Apollon muttered, but there was a small smile on his lips.
Hermes grinned, pleased with himself. "Maybe you should be both. Now stop sulking and kiss me."
Later that night Hermes was lying in bed on his stomach, his eyes half-closed. Apollon was propped up on an elbow next to him, tracing patterns on his back with one slender finger. There was a small callus on the tip of the finger that Hermes assumed was from archery, and the roughness tickled his skin slightly.
"I want to see your bow and arrow," Hermes murmured, his voice muffled by the pillow.
The finger paused. "Is that some sort of innuendo?"
"No, I meant the actual weapon. You know, the one you're so famous for."
"What made you think of that?"
"You have calluses."
Hermes felt Apollon retract his hand, and knew that the blond was examining his fingers. "Do they bother you?"
"Definitely not. And if you don't keep touching me, I'm going to have to punch you."
Apollon let out a light laugh and resumed his pattern-tracing.
"Do you think we should talk about our relationship?" Hermes asked after a moment of silence.
"Why do you ask?"
Hermes raised one shoulder in a shrug. "People keep telling me that we should."
"By 'people', you mean Athena," Apollon deduced, and Hermes hummed in confirmation. "I suppose so. What do you want to talk about?"
"Well, I suppose the biggest question should be: Are we actually in a relationship?"
"You know I would love nothing more than to be with you," Apollon said, running his fingers through Hermes' ebony hair. "So it's really your choice. I know you said you didn't want commitment."
Hermes rolled over to face the other god. "Things are different now. I've known you longer…and I think I might be ready for something more serious."
Internally he was thinking: and maybe Eros will stay away now. He thought distance might make it easier for him to resist the winged god.
Apollon's eyes analyzed him for a few seconds before a smile crossed his face. "Really? You're sure?"
Hermes smiled, tilting his head up in a silent invitation for a kiss. "Positive."
"Are you ready?" Loki asked as soon as Hermes had finished changing his clothes the following morning.
"I think so," Hermes said, glancing down at his attire. "Do you think this is okay to wear?"
He wasn't exactly sure if there was a dress code people were supposed to follow when they visited the Fates.
"It's fine," Loki told him. The Norse god looked like he was dressed for hiking. He even had a backpack slung over his shoulders.
"What's in the bag?" Hermes asked him.
"Bottles of water, extra pairs of socks and underwear, a snake bite kit, some condoms—"
"Where exactly do you think we're going?" Hermes asked, staring at his friend.
"It's always good to be prepared," Loki said, sounding defensive.
"I guess so. But condoms? Really?"
Loki chose not to answer; instead, he stuck his tongue out.
Hermes snorted.
As soon as Alex arrived, the three friends were heading off to pay the Fates a not-so-cordial visit. Finding them would be easy with the powers that Hermes wielded as the messenger; evading Zeus would prove to be more difficult. According to Alex, all of the Olympians were under strict orders to leave the Fates alone.
"Your plan is foolish," a familiar voice said, and the two tricksters turned to see Hades sitting cross-legged on Hermes' bed.
"If you're here to insult me, feel free to leave," Hermes said to him.
"I'm here to help you," Hades corrected, "but I thought it prudent to warn you that whatever it is that you're attempting to do will most likely fail. The Fates are not to be reckoned with."
"I understand that," Hermes said, quickly growing impatient with the repetitive warnings. "I just want some sort of explanation! Why doesn't anyone understand that?"
"Idiot boy!" Hades snapped, jumping to his feet. At full height, he towered over his nephew. "The explanation has already been given! Whatever happened that night interfered with the course that has been set for you. If your dimwitted mind can't understand that, then know this: Aggravating the Fates will help nothing."
"Hey, what's going on?" Alex asked, appearing at Loki's side and shooting a wary glance at Hades.
"Lord Hades was just giving us some advice," Hermes answered before returning his attention to Hades. "Thank you, Uncle."
Hades glared at him but gave a curt nod before disappearing with a flash of black light.
"You know, they call him 'Eubulus' for a reason, Hermes," Alex said. "It means 'giver of good counsel'. If he gave you advice, you should probably listen to him."
"I've never listened to anyone before and I don't plan on starting now," Hermes retorted, and Alex sighed, throwing himself onto the bed in a show of defeat.
Loki and Hermes both jumped when the Trojan prince let out a yelp of pain. "Ow!"
"What's wrong?!" Hermes shouted, thinking that Hades had come back for revenge.
"I sat on something!"
And indeed he had. Sitting on the bed in spot that Hades had recently vacated was an old-fashioned helmet. Hermes thought that it wouldn't have looked out of place on the head of Achilles or Hector.
"Uh – what is that?" Hermes asked, glancing at his friends for an explanation. He was surprised to see that Alex, although holding his sore behind, was staring at the helmet with wide eyes and parted lips. "That's the Helm of Darkness!" he breathed.
"The what?"
"It's supposed to make whoever wears it invisible to everyone," Loki explained, "including deities."
"Hades must have left it here for you!" Alex said.
Hermes was hit by a wave of understanding. "So Dad won't be able to see what we're doing!"
"So he won't be able to see what you're doing," Loki corrected.
Hermes waved his hand. "You're not Olympians, so it's not as big a deal for you. You won't get in trouble."
"Yeah, yeah. Well, if we're actually going to do this, we should get going," Loki said. "I have things to do."
"Let's go," Hermes agreed, setting the helmet on his head and taking each of them by the arm.
With a beat of his wings, they were off.
