Disclaimer: I don't own Trials of Apollo

TOApril day five: "Don't Go Near Them".

Some old friends, Apollo had said. Dionysus had immediately made mention of the Nine Muses, who no doubt Apollo ought to be visiting – the goddesses had missed him almost as much as Artemis and Leto, to say nothing of some of the other gods who had done their best to shelter from Zeus' wrath themselves by pretending they didn't – but Aphrodite had her doubts.

He had changed- ah, but no, changed wasn't quite the right word, was it? He had reverted, the forced contact with mortals stripping away his attempts of the past few centuries to not get attached (not that Apollo had ever been successful at preventing himself from forming attachments, no matter what he claimed) and leaving those bonds open and raw.

Free, to connect in a way he'd tried so hard to prevent, because if there was another god who knew the raw, untamed nature of love, it was Apollo. Unfortunately for the younger god, knowing did not equal control, and his tragedies across the millennia had always been worth keeping a close eye on for the entertainment factor. He may have sworn to never marry, but his heart was very much vulnerable to relationships.

So, no, Aphrodite did not believe Dionysus' assumption was correct – in fact, she was fairly certain that Dionysus himself had other ideas. He'd always looked up to his half-brother, even if he'd never been particularly inclined to broadcast as such. Vocalising such a thought, which Apollo notably neither confirmed nor denied, guided minds away from Hermes' mention of mortals and redirected them towards gods. Dionysus knew better than most how such subliminal manipulation worked.

Unfortunately for Apollo, while most of the gods might have fallen for his and Dionysus' subtle misdirection, Aphrodite was far too aware of bonds of love – romantic, familial, platonic; different flavours and sensations but all love within her domain – and Apollo's essence sang with his connections.

New ones. Old ones. Reforged and reinforced ones.

The first thing she did, after leaving the throne room, was delve along them to find who resided at the other ends.

Some were of no surprise. Old friends indeed, like Britomartis and Chiron. His children, their bonds shining brighter than they had for centuries as Apollo lost the façade he'd tried to keep in place and exposed just how much he loved them. That son of her husband, who'd used to Physician's Cure to cheat death and reunite with his beloved, and her daughter – strong enough to move on from Hera's meddling and find her own love unimpeded. The demigods in both camps, because Apollo never could help himself.

Some brought back fond memories. Hemithea and Josephine, star-crossed lovers released from their vow of maidenhood by Artemis. Their story was not quite at an end yet, but she'd taken her due entertainment from playing with the women decades ago. The relationship between Apollo's own son, Will, and Hades' son, at the other end of their relationship. Fresh, just starting out, and still with several trials to pass.

Aphrodite made a mental note to keep a finger on that thread for a little while longer. They were hopelessly devoted to each other, but still so young, so naïve. She did need a new relationship to observe, now that Perseus and Annabeth had defeated all of their trials and Reyna had grown into her own woman.

Then there was Margaret McCaffrey, Demeter's daughter and Apollo's new adopted sister, it appeared. The young demigod's bonds were all over the place, some torn to shreds, some tentatively trying to reach out like the roots of her mother's plants sought sustenance. Romance had yet to come into bloom, but seeds of interest had been planted and were simply waiting for their time to grow. Her bond with Apollo was fierce, like Demeter could be – the flaxen-haired goddess should never be underestimated – bright, intense, and so very mortal. It would burn bright, but it would not last.

None of Apollo's mortal bonds would last. They seldom did. For all that Apollo could and would sprinkle immortality like gold dust over those he adored, he always took their wishes into account – and so, so many wished to remain mortal, to grow old and die and leave Apollo behind.

No, Apollo would not waste the ever-trickling mortal hourglasses on his immortal bonds, not when he had just acquired so many raw and unrestrained mortal ones to nurture and treasure before their strings were cut one by one.

He proved her right; of course. Visits to his children, to that adorable couple who would need all the love they could take and more to stay together through their upcoming trial – she was confident that they would, but it would make for beautiful entertainment in the process – visits to the various demigods across both camps and beyond that had helped him and been helped in return. A visit to Meg McCaffrey, reaffirming their bond now that Zeus' machinations were not around to force them together.

Predictable.

Adorable.

She focused her attention on the boys, romantic love pouring from them in tangible waves she was sure even the mortals could sense, and began to brainstorm. What twists would suit their relationship best? What would truly, truly, make them thrive as the single whole they could be?

Nico had already turned his head away from others, his eyes only for one. Will, too, would not be easily tempted away, but, oh, that low self-esteem.

Surely Apollo wouldn't mind if she gave him just a little nudge, she thought. Just a little bit of self-doubt to wrestle with, to face and overcome. Their relationship would be stronger for it, in the end.

"I can't say I like that look on you."

Startled, she turned away from her mirror, where the boys were sitting on the porch of the Hades cabin, heads close enough together that no-one could hear the words they whispered to each other. Words of concern, words of reassurance, words of love.

Oh, how she itched to give them a nudge.

"How insulting," she replied, facing her apparent companion. When had Apollo snuck into her presence without her noticing? Once upon a time, not so long ago at all, Apollo had seemed incapable of stealth, demanding that everyone notice him as he passed through. He had every right to, of course; with his perfect golden locks, peak physical body, and a face that could cause anyone to swoon so long as they had working eyes, Apollo was the epitome of traditional male beauty.

She was relieved to see that he had not done her the discourtesy of using his Lester appearance in her presence. He had instead elected to look every inch the god he was, golden and glimmering, as he approached her. His eyes, a deep, molten gold but with just a hint of the blue in his son's, zeroed in on her mirror, and his expression turned dark. Not dark like thunder clouds, but dark like the blindness caused by the sun, too painful to rest eyes upon and vindictive to those who dared.

"Leave them alone," he said. It was a command, one that gave the barest hints of his father, lurking so far beneath the surface most knew better than to seek. Aphrodite did not truly fear Zeus – she was older, more primal, than the lord of the skies – but she did hold a degree of wariness for his temper.

She was, at that moment, equally wary of Apollo's, not that she would ever let that on.

"Relax." She waved her hand elegantly yet dismissively. "I have no intentions of dividing them."

"I would rather you didn't interfere with them at all," Apollo countered, his expression lightening and brightening to match the flames of his chariot. Still dangerous, still a threat. "We both know what you can do."

Aphrodite would not be cowed by the younger god, no matter how powerful or beautiful he was. "Would you rather I turned my attention elsewhere?" She snapped her fingers and Will and Nico disappeared from view, instead being replaced by Meg, who was liberally covered in dirt and huffing her way through a conversation with a dryad.

The dirt did not quite conceal the reddish hue to her cheeks. It was still but a seed of a crush, but given time it could so easily bloom into something exquisite.

Apollo flared up, not quite blinding for a fellow Olympian but a reminder of the intense divinity lurking beneath his chosen form that he could, at any moment, choose to unleash. "Aphrodite."

His reaction was not a surprise. After all, Apollo loved deeply and passionately, but for all the focus on his romantic bonds, his bond with Artemis – his twin – had always been the strongest, and while his bond with Meg lacked the depth of four millennia, the base was near enough the same. Still, her point made, Aphrodite returned the mirror's focus to the boys. Apollo glared at her, and she met the look with a challenging one of her own.

"I do not interfere with how you handle your domains," she chided. "Not even your father dares interfere with mine." How could he, when he was as much a slave to lust as Apollo was to the desires of the heart?

Apollo recoiled.

"Love is cruel, but love is also kind," she continued, not looking away from his eyes. She could see her reflection in them, with black hair and violet irises. Her appearance had not changed for Apollo in millennia. She was not certain if it ever would again. "If I swear to you that I will not destroy Will's relationship with Nico, nor ruin Meg's future relationships, will you step back and leave me to my domain in peace?"

She was not above destroying those relationships should Apollo push her too far, and she made no attempt to hide that fact. He was powerful, powerful enough that, should the right incentive come into play, Zeus' paranoia might not be so irrational, but she was born of the blood of Ouranos, of the seafoam. She was of the skies and of the seas, she was limitless, uncontainable.

Uncontrollable.

For all he had spent the last century or so playing it, Apollo was no fool. She was offering him a boon, a favour. An apology, perhaps, for her appearance. Not sympathy, no, but something.

"On the Styx," he said. Seeing her offering. Accepting it – begrudgingly, she could tell, but accepting it nonetheless.

"Very well," she agreed. "I swear on the Styx that I will not destroy Will's relationship with Nico, nor shall I ruin Meg's future relationships."

The oath sealed with a clap of thunder, and Apollo's divinity allowed his chosen form to fully contain itself once more.

"I suggest you take the time to greet the Muses," she said, before he could find words to react with. "You wouldn't want anyone else realising your definition of 'old' is within the past six months. Certain gods would not be as benevolent as I."

Certain gods would view Apollo's continued interactions with the mortals as in breach of the Ancient Laws, and the demigods he loved so much would be the ones to pay the price. Her oath would be meaningless if Asclepius' fate was repeated; she owed them no protection, and nor would she offer it.

"I'll do that," he agreed pleasantly. "It's certainly been a while." He nodded his head at her and broke into his famous dazzling smile. "It's nice to see you again, Aphrodite."

She carefully didn't react as he dissolved into light and disappeared, before turning her attention back to the mirror and the boys it showed. Her oath meant that she would have to be careful – no pushing so hard that there was a risk that their relationship would fracture – but it did not change her plans.

I was tossing up between more Will content or going back to Apollo pov and ended up with Aphrodite instead, so... okay then? Never really played with Aphrodite before, so this was a fun challenge.

Thanks for reading!
Tsari