Hephaestus was carefully hammering a broadsword when he sensed a faint stirring within his forge. He had been alone so long, he had grown accustomed to hearing only the sounds of his own work, and the noise of another, however cunning, was easily picked up. The intruder clearly thought that Hephaestus could not hear him above the pounding of the sword on the anvil, and Hephaestus, not about to give away his advantage, allowed the intruder to continue to believe it was so. He finished hammering, and moved to put the sword in cool water. As the steam billowed in the mountain cave, the sword cooled instantly to a deadly sharpness. Hephaestus swung the sword in the direction of the intruder, the water splashing in a broad arc and the steam clouding his vision.

"Show yourself!" he demanded gruffly.

The intruder laughed lightly. As the steam cleared, Hephaestus discovered his sword pointing at a creature so beautiful she could exist only in dreams: a woman with long, dark, lustrous hair, tendrils curling at her alabaster throat, with fine features and vivid green eyes, looking at him. Clearly this could only be one of the immortal gods, he thought dumbly. Looking at him.

Suddenly Hephaestus filled with shame and bent his ugly head, letting the sword drop to his side. "I-I'm very sorry. I didn't realize --," he stammered lamely. "I didn't think--"

"No," she murmured, moving uncomfortably closer, "it seems you didn't."

Soon she was standing not a breath away from him. Hephaestus was sure she could hear his heart pounding embarrassingly loud. He stared at her delicate sandals.

"I'm sorry," he managed.

She laughed again, a tinkling of tiny silver bells. She lifted one perfectly formed hand to his chin, and forced him to make eye contact with her. She looked into his eyes, unabashed and confident. Hephaestus looked at her hesitantly, searching her face for some hint of fear or repulsion. Surprisingly, he found none. Instead, there was something else present in her eyes, something he couldn't quite name, but which stirred a feeling akin to fear within him.

"No, Hephaestus," she purred, "don't apologize. I'm the one who interrupted your work."

"You know my name?" He found it difficult to think when those serpent green eyes were on him.

"Of course!" More bells tinkling. "And soon everyone on Olympus will know your name. You do such fine work."

"Er--"

She smiled sweetly and put him out of his misery. "I'm Aphrodite."

Hephaestus felt like some kind of reply was expected. Aphrodite, the most beautiful of all the gods, was here, in his forge, complimenting his work. He managed a weak grin.

It seemed to suffice. Aphrodite dropped her hand from his head, and turned to further admire his silverwork. She seemed to be especially attracted to the jewelry, cooing over this piece and holding that piece to her perfect throat. Hephaestus seemed to be able to think a little clearer now that she was no longer looking at him. Aphrodite was here in his forge. Did that mean the gods were finally paying attention to him? After all the years of hard labor, had the opportunity to prove himself finally arrive? He carefully walked over to her, hiding his twisted foot as best he could. Aphrodite was admiring a particularly stunning necklace. She turned towards him.

"This is beautiful!" she exclaimed. "May I try it on?"

She turned to let him fasten it. Hephaestus fumbled clumsily with the clasp he had made. His work was one thing he was confident enough to speak to her about, but Aphrodite was enthralled by her own reflection in the pool near the anvil.

"You know," she purred, "if there is one thing I admire, it's beauty."

The way she said that successfully removed any sense of confidence he might have had.

"You may have it, if you want it," he offered.

Her smile sparkled in the firelight. She moved to leave, but turned briefly.

"Whatever you may think, Hephaestus, you belong with the gods. Though you may lack Apollo's glory in features and Hermes's swift form, your hands are the hands of a god. They are beautiful, and they create beauty. And if there's one thing I admire," she reminded him, "it's beauty."

With that she left him to his own thoughts.