The forge sparked in rhythmic timing as Hephaestus' hammer went down on the molten iron against anvil. His hands, though callused and crooked by eons of metalwork, still gripped and nailed with unmatched accuracy. His eyes squinted, scarred flesh glimmered with sweat at the yellow heat thwarting the very air.

When the water hissed and steamed he lifted the piece between tongs and turned it over, visually calculating its way to perfection.

There was something amiss. But not with his piece. The heat had turned obscure with a scourging presence making his brows crumple.

In the dark corner he framed the appearance of another. He blurted the name doubtfully before noticing that his own doors remained undisturbed as if none had ever passed through.

"How – uh. Have you been there a long time? My helpers have not attended to you?" Hephaestus lowered the tongs, leaning against the table so he could unfasten his apron.

His guest remained unmoved, unfazed… unreliable. The blacksmith limped towards his crutch before moving around to wipe his hands and face. The forge wasn't at its best appearance from his current project. Soot adorned his tools once shined and oiled free from rust. Small pieces of nails and screw remain scattered on the tiles. He himself was a miner's champ, dug deep from the coals. "Apologies for the 'un-presentability'. I don't usually have… visitors." He dragged himself to the shelves, deftly balancing to catch mugs for two. "What would it be? Lime and water? Absinthe?"

"It reeks of fire…"

Hephaestus looked over his shoulder. Has the guest gone mad? Of course it smelt of the mountain. Even a newborn would know. "Well… not a day it did not. Sulfur. Molten rock. Gaia's poison. Such abominable stench…"

"But it's wonderful."

He braked. "What? You used to hate it. You couldn't last an hour here." When the mugs were filled he slid one to the other. As it halted in place, Hephaestus felt a dull quake from underneath. The mountain had been quite restless recently, the lakes he overlooked had grown darker and vapored a little thicker than usual. He sloshed his mouth with water to extinguish a bit of body heat, mismatched eyes observing the other with tension. "You look awful. King sent you?"

At once the other's gaze lifted at him at the mention of the word and Hephaestus' spine tittered.

"You hold something..."

Hephaestus sighed. "I knew it. How many times do I have to say it? I do not have the Lightning bolt nor have I been crafting since. It's a dange – "

"The path underneath. You know it."

At this the Smith's gut coiled. No one has ever mouthed inquiry on this department, and especially not this god before him. Zeus was most wary of instruction never to unveil the secret of his forge and the chasm crouched beneath. "Path?" he tried to sound innocent but felt his voice had failed him.

The visitor tipped his head, elegant as he ever was. And the slow smile was pure malice. "Doesn't matter. Why bother looking for a key when you can rip the lock? I would have to ask you to do something else…"

Hephaestus' blood went sour. The ground had not stopped trembling and rather grown aggressive. He swallowed heavily, ears focusing at the convulse of tools on the table – metal vibrating in place, the clatter of steel as they fell off sauntering across the floor. Glassware shattered from the high shelves, with Hephaestus poorly dodging the shards. Dust spewed from newfound cracks. He gripped on a pillar, grunting as his crutch slid from grasp onto one side of the hall to join all others.

The last things he remembered before being pulled into the bleak darkness –

Catapults of blazing rocks across grey clouds, boiling rivers of magma, an avalanche of ash and salt, his forge splitting to destruction, and an ironic halcyon voice, "Survive."

The Queen was pricked with a sudden unease. She quelled a breath to further sense the quaking beneath her boots. "Did you feel that?"

"What?" Mars followed the trail of her gaze.

"I… I thought the ground shook,"

He inspected. Whereby they stood in the palace field of immortal horses, and with the thundering hooves of stallions he was free to conclude, "It must be the race, Queen. We are, after all, in the ranch."

The ranch. She looked around the acres of land clothed in green and drying mud, a vast plateau supporting the lower leg of their mountain home. It tethered to the dense misty forest, closest to mortal territory.

Athena considered despite the lingering doubt. It was rude to spoil Mars' excitement. He had been bickering for weeks to see the Hippoi Athanatoi and she had finally consented despite the bleak clime – bushels of thick grey clouds and musky heat about them. For half the day she allowed him to access all divine stallions, petting them, mounting them – Abraxas, Kyllaros, the four of Helios', the gifts redeemed from Herakles…

But Mars was clever enough not to engage Aithon and Konabos, demonic flame-breathing steeds of the War god. One was coated black velvet and the other deep roan fire, freakish beasts and rabid. Their eyes were embers and every breath gas. "Try," Ares was smirking and the Queen snatched the reins before they reach Mars' hand. She threw the King a brief glare and he broke in a malicious grin before taking leave.

They now await the final treasure, its presence igniting light.

"There it is…"

Athena basked at the golden eyes that lit up brighter than Hestia's unquenchable hearths. Mars, the greatly feared Roman military deity, was beaming like a child to his first pony. The Queen caressed Pegasus' thick muscular neck as a lover would, herself smiling proudly at the beauteous creature known to have been heroes' instruments to fame. She urged the winged horse closer, propelling the beast to parade its long platinum mane over dirtywhite groomed pelt. Its wings stretched and Mars was beyond at awe.

"He's beautiful…" the Roman ran a hand over a wing, eyeing the stallion as a lovestruck mortal would.

"Careful now, that look you give." The Queen laughed, collecting to memory the first time she too, set eyes upon the steed as it rose from Medusa's blood and there swore to never part from it. The horse was a monster's child, but a monster of her own making. Raising Pegasus was her promised responsibility, at least. "I fear it could melt him."

"You trained him?" asked Mars, not taking eyes off the majestic animal.

Athena half-smiled, "My skin turned to a map at the bruises earned. Now he does not even need reins. But he was difficult to tame." She clicked her tongue with a soft pat at the length of Pegasus' jaw.

"Not the most difficult to tame, though?" Mars teased, making the Queen dumbfound before poking his arm with her elbow and a blush on her cheeks. She briefly stole a glance at Ares brooding at the distance.

"Idiot. Now climb, boy," Athena made space for the chortling Mars to mount Pegasus. He lifted self atop the steed and the Queen slapped even before Mars could settle. Pegasus snickered, quickly galloping as the god yelped and fell against the muck. He propped up covered in mud, laughing at the cruel joke, with Athena sprinting near and covering her own grin.

Half a hundred yards away, Dionysus and Hermes stood at the precipice. Clouds were thick below them like heaps of cotton mattress, the only layer between them and the nearest city below. The god of revelry stretched his arms after taking a swig from his wineskin. He was rather feeling ecstatic. Almost always.

"Tell me I could piss right here," came the usual tipsy gurgling.

"Please," Hermes snorted, "There had just been fire. People don't need flood."

"What!? You damn forget me?" Dionysus brayed in all his drunken stupor, "I (hic) am the god of cunts and orgasm! I could piss right here and they be bathing in it like blessing…"

While they laughed horribly and sipped on wine and danced at the edge of the cliff, one was radiating poison.

"Look at him," Ares scoffed, fingers tight on the gold-buttoned leather reins. His eyes were fixed on the Roman and his wife, at her helping the muddied youth off the dirt.

Dionysus rolled his eyes, subtly imitating a barf at Hermes whilst the King bitterly muttered. They craned necks behind Ares' steed with Dionysus' arms folded atop the regal saddle.

"You call that a war god… look at those hands. They're too…" Ares' teeth gritted for the right word but it came out "too – posh."

Dionysus let out a grotesque cackle at Hermes, "Heard that, mate? Thing here says posh hands don't go warring. Next time I see a thick palm, might as well say it's been rubbing over cock for ages!"

Hermes spurted the wine he had just drank upon the thought. He was poorly hiding the snorts while Dionysus enacted humping before half closed fist with tongue fully out between geeky grin, "Ugh… yeah baby… UGH! Ugh!"

The King's face was crumpled with revulsion watching Dionysus on the verge of fake release. He would have rather commanded his stallion to turn the weasel to dust. "Were you really borne from Zeus' thigh, or his ass?"

"But really," Dionysus wheezed, "You don't know, do you? Allow me to fill you in. Back there in Rome, Mars – that overripe tomato – did offer a marriage proposal… to Minerva." He sniggered before throwing a grapefruit in his mouth and chewed.

The sounds of masticated fruit only spurred Ares on. "…a Roman whore?"

Hermes' jaw fell whilst Dionysus retched his grape. "You don't kn- ! Hermes, do your King a favor and pull his head off his butt! Minerva, you godawful handsome shit, is only the Roman equivalent of everything – " pointed finger at Athena, " – that walking perfection is." He tipped his head in pause and perversion at her every part, " – that wicked… grey-eyed… swan-necked… hot bushy haired… confidently flat-chested… tight-bellied…"

"I. Bloody. Get. It."

"I doubt the flat-chested part though," Hermes shot and Dionysus' mouth widened as he punched him in the arm – "Why you lucky bast – "

The stallion pranced in fury, its high pitched whicker sputtered flames and threw off the two against soil and grass. Ares shadowed over them. "The next you talk about my wife in such manner will be the last time you'd TALK!"

The King could pound them with the nastiest threats but the grinning would never cease. Dionysus dusted himself, "I forgot anger management is here. But Ares, surely it explains the unwanted attention to her, isn't it? Only brings back memories… and a sprinkle of hope perhaps?" said god of cunts, fully dressed to taunt.

"And what of the marriage proposal?"

Dionysus shrugged, finger digging on his ear until a better idea swept over him. "We could ask Athena when she leaves for Rome!"

His spark burned out at the sudden realization of his own words. But it was too late. Ares was already gazing at him, wide eyed, mood darkening in a conflate of sedation and wrath.

"Eep…" Dionysus squeaked, "Did I just mention it? She's leaving? Dead-tired of your crap? Uh. Right. Hermes we better – Hermes?" He looked around the space the Messenger once was, now empty. "Damn it. Little shit flew off with my drink!"

Up ahead, scurrying gallops increased with unknown riders. Ares watched them separate in twos to the Queen and his direction. He observed their mark, any sigil from among the gods and there it was etched on armbands the crossed hammers.

"Apologies, my King, we are dispatched from Mount Etna," said one as he descended from the steed in a trace of panic.

The message flowed in his ears and at once he saw Athena run to him in eminent shock. Ares ground his teeth, grabbed on the reins of his horse and whipped as he ascended. He met the Queen and pulled her outstretched arm, settling her behind him as they dashed to the awaiting casualty at the palace gates.

"How is he?" Athena asked, gulping at restraint to lay eyes on Hephaestus. The nymphs parted as she came forward and there she beheld the fallen god of crafts, her mentor, her confidante terribly swathed in silica moist with his own blood. The blankets he was carried with was doused in the wretched fluid. Artemis was holding his head to the side, wiping the thick dusty crimson from his mouth and nose. Behind her, Hermes was crouched in support of a shoulder.

Her heart leapt upon sight of the yellow haired god inspecting the wounds. "Apo –…"

Young Asceplius lowered Hephaestus' wrist after pressing on them with fore and middle fingers. Athena swallowed the rest of her word. Apollo's demigod son had taken form of his father in the length of years.

"His pulse is weak, so are his breaths, your Deity. Half his ribs are broken from a fallen pillar. He's inhaled too much of the mountain dust, weakening his lungs and regeneration, making his blood quicker to lose before his wounds could heal," spoke Asceplius, almost shy.

"We dug him from the dust and rubble," said Cedalion, Hephaestus' ward and apprentice, and equally dirtied, "The mountain… it… it was suddenly angered. Before we knew it the rafters were upon us… heavy tools and artillery." He looked around at a few of his companions nursing equal shock, smelling of Etna's poison and coughing out her mist. His voice broke, "My Queen, the forge is gone."

Athena sniffled, turning to Ares behind her. He steeled. There never was affection between them but a sight of Hephaestus' nearing demise strangely vexed him. "I'll send more to the disaster, see what they can find."

The Queen nodded in gratitude. A carriage was pulled and she watched Asceplius direct his attendants and nymphs how to lift Hephaestus' broken body. "Careful," the budding medicus warned, "He is still bleeding within. You could burst a vein or organ with the wrong amount of force or a misplaced touch."

Until all was set and Hephaestus was safely tucked, the carriage began to smooth its path towards the palace. "Thank you, Asceplius," the Queen touched the youth's shoulder, making him blush, "Surely your father awaits for Hephaestus in the infirmary?"

Asceplius' mouth opened in dubious answer but Athena did not miss the way he slid eyes at Artemis. "He… I – …"

"Apollo is there, Athena," the Huntress quickly sealed his nephew's answer, pulling Asceplius by the hand. "And even if he's not, he has his boy fully taught."

Athena smiled concealing suspicion. "Gratitude."

They bid leave to attend to the injury. The Queen murmured in her place, knowing well the anxiety she beheld back at the ranch was not a thing to ignore. "You think... he will live?" She shuddered at her own question.

"Bastard survived a fall from Olympus to the earth as a babe," Ares derided her thought, "Broken bones are but a needle's prick to the damn cripple."

The Queen exhaled, long and unsteady until she stepped to follow those who have left but a firm grip took hold of her arm. She looked at Ares' clutch, felt the power and unsung distress the way it trembled before braving to see his eyes. This felt familiar and her pulse quickened. It was one of the moods that sent them recklessly fighting. Has the beast in him awakened again?

As if on cue, Ares was sane enough to lower his guard and the boiling in his blood. "Dionysus… said you… will you –…"

She waited, and yet he could not afford to continue. The King was slowly defiled by dread more than the confidence Dionysus might just be bluffing about her leaving for Rome. But what if it were true? He recalled her promising to give up her crown and with it all that they are. And was he prepared enough to stomach it?

"What?" Athena roused him to the present. Ares withdrew his hand and clenched his jaw, defeated by his personal fear.

A clearing of throat made them turn to Hermes handing a rolled parchment, bearing azure wax incised with the mark of a trident. Poseidon. Athena took the mail and broke its seal.

"What does the reptile want now?" growled Ares, venting frustration on a piece of paper.

"An invitation," Athena narrowed her eyes, "At blessing of a new temple raised for him in Sounion Cape."

"Vainglorious plague as always."

The Queen rolled the paper once more, half smiling, "You know him… and still it is the King's obligation to consecrate a temple."

"I'd bless it with a good piss on the walls."

"Then you have a month to fill your bladder. And while you're at it, we turn attention to Hephaestus and whatever we could salvage from his forge." Athena sighed. "Would you really think it was just the mountain?"

At this Ares' face turned rigid. "The forge is of his making. He's a cripple, not a halfwit. You would have us fools to believe only a mountain's growl could chip a single brick."

"I thought so… it could take a surmountable force to bring it down, much less crack a pillar. So we agree? Someone could be behind it?"

The King smirked, eyes on the parchment she held. "Ask the Earthshaker."

It took seconds before Athena nodded, though she had another suspect in mind. Again Hermes cleared his throat to take leave but was halted with a soft smile.

"Hermes, lend me something of your possession, will you?"

She sat by a flat rock on the clearing at hill's edge. Her watery eyes went far along the western margin of rubicund horizon. Artemis held her knees closer to chest. Her long mane of blended brown and yellow fluttered gently with the feathery heads of pampas grass behind her.

"You'd turn the moon black with that incessant sighing, woman,"

The Huntress quickly wiped her cheeks before Athena sat beside her, cloaked in grey. The Queen closed her eyes, inhaling the bland scent of forest clearing, of undergrowth and moss like spices on the marketplace, pretending to not see Artemis shedding tears.

"It felt like a lifetime ago," Athena pointed at the grassy clearing before them, studded with wildflowers, "We were there grazing like goats. You and me… Orion… Apollo…"

Artemis chuckled. It was a good sign. "…and the cunts Hermes and Dionysus."

"Mhmm… don't you just miss it? The laughter, the bruises, and broken bones."

"Before divinity was such a pain in the ass."

"You can say that again." Athena moved closer to lean her head on her sister's shoulder, both rolling through memoirs never oblivious to them – wild laughter, skin and bones and scrawny knees and elbows. All before the Earth was filled and temples were raised in their names…

" – there," Artemis referred to the distant mountains.

Athena laughed, "It was? I could never forget his face, beet red screaming WHERE ARE MY DAMN COWS!?"

This sent Artemis squealing. "Apollo, god of udders, Hermes branded him. He still hasn't gotten over that, you know… and do you remember those plains too? Yond the sentinel grove?"

"What of them?"

"Summer day? Picking flowers…? Persephone…"

Of course. Athena's stomach coiled at the vivid screaming when an innocent day was filled with the horror of the ground yawning and Persephone taken under a black gust of wind. She never understood what satisfaction brought a man to force himself upon the unwilling, but then at least Hades had the decency for monogamy whereas her own father was the ignoble lecher. Eitherway it was two among many reasons she had taken up her vow, only then to be snatched away.

"And here we are… with so much that happened…" Athena concluded. By now the sun was completely engulfed. She reached out for Artemis' hand, covered in archer's gauntlet.

"Artemis," the Queen poured sincerity in just a touch, "I know nothing could truly pay for the friendship you've bestowed me. All this time you've proved loyal and for that I am forever grateful. Know that I am in debt and would prove yours. And now I need you more than ever, sister," she pressed on the hand, "Tell me true, how is Apollo?"

She saw the conflict in blue eyes. Artemis pressed her lips to a smile. "He is alright, I assure. Although we have not seen much of the other lately."

"You haven't noted anything strange of late?"

"None that I recall. Perhaps a little distant, but tolerable."

"When have you last seen each other?"

Artemis paused. "A fortnight since. He's been frequently missing."

"As many others notice," Athena sighed, "So you don't know of his whereabouts?"

"I don't… you know I'd immediately tell you if something's askew,"

The Queen nodded, almost shamed, "I know. Even I feel horrible asking you these…"

"You're a Queen. You've every right to investigate. I take no offense," she stretched her legs and slid off the rock, "And now my celestial duty takes place."

Athena smiled in farewell.

But she has never truly departed.

As night pressed on she moved invisibly, a ghost concealed under the helm borrowed from Hermes. It was a tedious task to spy but the need to be a firsthand witness kept her patience. Even before she wore the helm she had already apologized to Artemis for the attempt to follow her. But circumstances weren't favoring her another choice.

The clueless goddess of moon moved beneath the dense dark woods and Athena pursued. The owls above served eyes, and the serpents down below. She was circumspect of Artemis' every flick of hair, every step and every turn of head upon a crack of twig. They passed through crags and lazy brooks, beneath felled trees until a forest clearing that revealed… Artemis' own temple.

Athena gawked at the marvelous structure. Gargantuan Doric pillars high as Parthenon itself. Rustic white marble. A cast of golden stag standing at the middle. The incense smelled of cypress and fig.

She saw her sister run past the snoozing guards and mumbling priestesses. They came upon the entrance to a private chamber. And Athena's heart sank when Artemis unlocked the door, searched the dark inside and softly called her brother's name.

She should have raged spot on. She should have revealed herself and confronted the lies spoonfed to her. But all was late with frozen fingers and utter immobility. Athena ran off fast as her racing heart and the way back Olympus became grueling.

Helm still in hand and eyes shut tight, the Queen pressed her forehead on a pillar to regain herself. Curse this Queenship, she gnarled, curse this ruinous crown for the amities it shreds. How much more lies and deceit be weaved by those closest to her? How many more lives be at stake under their rule?

The Queenschamber was lit from inside its half opened doors. Her first thought was Nike and it was convenient for she needed her to procure rudiment scrolls. Athena pushed through the chamber about to call her ward's name but was frozen midway.

There was no Nike. Only two beings who lifted eyes at her presence… one pair scarlet… the other turquoise.

Mighty bastard…

She looked at one to the other. Aphrodite stood, lips hung in panic at search for a way to explain. Across her was Ares, shoulder leaning against the window frame and smug as he always was.

Athena shut her eyes and pinched at the bridge of her nose, her head now pounding with mad pain.

"Alright," she exhaled shakily, "Let me pretend this was but a talk of how everyone's day went. Give me the ace – today I witnessed a friend crumpled at the brink of death, uncertain if he could still last the night, while another led me in good faith only to be discovered as brute lies. It's not as if I see you naked or on top of the other… but before my vision turns red and my hands mount your heads on a spike, tell me… what in Tartarus is going on here?"

A / N : Sorry for the delay. Been quite preoccupied since the last. Anyway thanks again for reading. I have again replied to your reviews of the previous chaps, on the the reviews section itself.

Hope everything's well with you too!