Eros felt like an idiot.
A deliriously happy idiot, giddy with the thought of Psyche, ecstatic with nervous energy at the knowledge that she was willing to stay with him. He found himself humming as he pulled arrows at the mortals, solving their romantic entanglements. Eros newly appreciated the true power he could wield and how it could make everyone else as deliriously happy as he. Of course, after the whole Apollo and Daphne fiasco he'd never underestimated the damage he could serve out on unsuspecting victims but the experience of love hassling him from the inside painted his world in fresh and vivid colours. He sailed on a platform of delight far above the petty constraints of the world, smiling into the sunshine.
But of course, there was an underlying hint of dread at the thought that at any moment his happiness could be snatched away from him. It was the edge that was the only thing souring his rapturous mood and he resolved to fix that as soon as possible.
Eros knew he was being reckless. His mother's rage when she discovered what had happened to the beautiful girl they had been worshipping as an idol in her stead would know no bounds. Aphrodite had the ability to squash all love of him from Psyche's person until she despised him and couldn't bear the thought of his affections. Or his mother could choose a much worse punishment – something vile and imaginative that didn't even bear considering.
There has to be a way we can be together without Aphrodite inflicting pain on her!
The problems were numerous; the possible solutions were few and unattractive. Eros flew out every day to attend to his work but also to seek help and advice from those he trusted amongst his family.
His half-brother Anteros, the god of unrequited love who had flown side by side with him so many times, had little advice for him.
"I've seen mother in rages… I've seen her vexed," he advised Eros. "But the true danger to everyone – mortal and immortal alike – is when something stings her pride. That wound does not heal easily and time will not make it go away. The Trojan War begun because she was not shown proper respect…." Anteros touched Eros's wing and sighed heavily. "I'm sorry. Tread carefully, little Cupid."
Anteros's sister Harmonia – that wonderful goddess of harmony – was at least a little more helpful.
"Once Psyche knows your identity, mother will know of her," Harmonia brushed her half-brother's fair hair away from his face. The feeling was soothing. It was the goddess's divine power to restore anyone's equilibrium. "Aphrodite sees the names etched in mortal hearts faster than we can combat. Keeping your lover in the dark is for the best."
"But what do I do?" Eros asked. "I can't keep her ignorant forever."
"Maintain the charade until you find the solution," Harmonia advised strongly. "One will appear, if we all look hard enough."
Peitho was as usual by his mother's side, enticing mortals and immortals alike with her persuasion and seduction. He actively avoided her and knew that if she heard anything about the dilemma he was in, Eros would have bet that she would instantly be at Aphrodite's side whispering the gossip into her mother's ear. He did not trust his half-sister at all; she always was a useless tattle-tale. It was a shame really, because if any of his siblings could talk Aphrodite out of her rage, it would have been Peitho.
But it was Himeros, his twin brother who he trusted impeccably, who delivered the most crushing news of all.
"You have not been listening to the winds and messages of the world, brother."
"What?" Eros was startled. Was there an answer floating about that he'd just been too preoccupied to notice?
Himeros grimaced at him, his pity plain.
"I think you need to find Hermes. There is a curse on your head and it has to do with your budding love."
Eros felt the edge of panic. It was almost embarrassing to consider how quickly Psyche had entered his life and become the focal point of it. There used to be a time when a curse directed at himself would mean retribution, cunning manipulation or wooing the poor slighted victim. Now he felt like an animal caught in a trap, helplessly turning in circles with only one instinct – to find the exit and bolt.
Psyche's love had done that to him.
Himeros clapped his twin on the shoulder.
"Don't despair," the god of passion nodded his encouragement. "Hermes can be devilishly tricky to pin down however Fortuna smiles on you today, brother. Rumour has it that the revels on Mount Olympus are attracting most of the pantheon. You could seek him there."
Eros muttered his thanks before jettisoning himself into the sky. He urged the wings to speed his progress and to his surprise the winds faltered, interrupting his flight.
"Ah… My Lord?"
Zephyrus's timid voice issued at Eros's elbow. The West Wind sounded distinctly uncomfortable.
"At your retreat… Well, Psyche's sisters are close by. It's likely that she will be able to hear their voices very soon. What should I do?"
"Ask her what she wants," Eros snapped back. "If she asks to see them I have no objections. She is my honoured guest – treat her as you would any lady of the house."
Zephyrus opened his mouth to volunteer something then reconsidered, nodding once. Then he was sailing away, zooming over the countryside and rustling through the trees. His wind sped Eros's wings on the high route to Mount Olympus. Eros uttered his gratitude to the air and ventured higher, his great wings beating in time with his thundering heart, pushing him closer to the summit of Zeus's domain.
Mount Olympus was grand and serene. The Nine Muses held a concert on the great pavilion and the event had brought every demi-god and demi-goddess from the corners of every realm. They flocked in magnificence, nodding their respect to Zeus's seat of power at the highest point of the mountain.
Eros ignored most of the guests, the music and the decadence in his search for the God of Travellers. From his vantage point he circle nearer, inspecting each face.
"Cupid! Come wine with us!" Dionysus was comfortably sloshed already. As he swayed ever so slightly, the ruddy-faced god's footfalls made nearby cups of wine refill themselves to the point of excess. The choicest vintages soon splattered across the ground and into eager mouths. Eros knew the party would get wild with Dionysus around and in such a good temperament.
Dionysus was also usually far more perceptive than his drunkenness would have one believe possible. Eros landed in amongst the throng and bellowed that he was looking for Hermes into the God of Wine's ear. Dionysus leant on Eros, stinking of drink and sweat. Eros bore this patiently, wrinkling his nose a little.
"That… Flutterfoot? Yeah, he's here. Grab a drink and let out them arrows, huh? Get this party really going?"
Eros shrugged Dionysus off with some apologetic noises and thankfully, Hestia came to his aid.
The quiet, unassuming goddess of the hearth and home smiled through her teeth at Eros, engaged Dionysus in his cups once more and pointed over to one particular column all in an instant. Eros followed her direction. He caught the glimpse of Hermes's distinctive cap and one flapping winged sandal in the milling crowd. He smiled and kissed Hestia on one glowing cheek.
"Fortuna smile on you, Eros," she murmured in his ear, as gentle as the last of the night's embers expiring in the fireplace.
Not bothering to attempt barging through the thick wall of bodies between them, Eros simply leapt up into the air and let his wings carry him to the place by Hermes's side.
"We need to talk," Eros insisted.
Hermes raised an eyebrow.
"Privately," Eros pressed, his voice clipped and quiet.
The God of Messengers didn't appear pleased but apologised very prettily to whoever he'd been speaking with and flicked a finger upwards to the impatient God of Love. Both gods launched effortlessly into the skies above Mount Olympus, Eros practically buzzing with agitation.
"Hades has cursed me," Eros insisted as they soared higher into the blue. "Himeros told me it was important that I knew exactly what he spoke against me."
Hermes frowned.
"Hades?"
Eros bit back a sigh of impatience. He gestured furiously.
"He blamed me for the whole thing with his wife… When it looked bad, anyway. Just tell me what the curse is, please. Give me this message. I need to know."
Hermes shut his eyes for a moment and held his caduceus pointed down, towards the Underworld. Eros hovered, his hands knotted together. At last, still with his eyes closed, Hermes intoned the words of the curse:
"I curse you to have to endure the suffering I now shoulder, bearing witness to the despair of my love. Let you be tormented by the same fate until Persephone decides to redeem you of your wretchedness. This so do I swear, by all the powers of creation."
There was an ugly moment of reflection before Eros swore.
"That dirty, stupid, hypocritical...!"
"Woah there," Hermes interjected. His eyes blinked open and he flicked the caduceus up into the crook of his arm. "Careful. This is Hades you're going on about."
"Careful? Could you not hear your own voice? He's going to make me suffer because things won't so smooth in love for him!" Eros turned in vicious circles, crying out his sense of injustice to the voluminous heavens. "This isn't fair! I never asked for this! I never asked for any of it! I didn't want to, did I? I made one silly mistake with a nymph and now this…"
"Who's suffering? What?"
Eros ignored Hermes's stuttered confusion. He pulled his hair, screeching his indignations out helplessly, locked in a battle of anger and regret.
Hermes finally managed to grab the irate God of Love by the arm.
"What have you done?" Hermes asked firmly this time as they awkwardly floated on beating wings.
"But it makes no sense. It doesn't matter what Persephone does! My mother…"
Hermes gripped the distracted immortal by the shoulders and made Eros meet his stare.
"Whatever you're babbling about Eros, know this. If Hades has cursed you, Persephone is the only one who can salvage your situation, no matter what it is. Do you hear me? That goddess has the power to sway the whole of the Underworld, including on the most fierce and unyielding gods in creation. Be nice to her, you fool."
He shoved Eros away in the air and promptly plunged into a dive to re-join the revels far below.
Eros didn't want to follow. Aphrodite would be there somewhere, he had no doubt. What he wanted, more than anything, was no more complications. He wanted to be held by Psyche, to stay beside her until morning when he could try and take in the whole muddled situation with fresh eyes.
So he waved a goodbye salute to Hestia on the ground, the only one watching him with kind speculation, and flew away.
His retreat was deliciously quiet and calm in the wake of all the immortals he'd left behind. Psyche was reading letters in the main room. Eros coughed to draw attention to his presence before sinking into the sofa.
Her smile was radiant and gave him a giddy sense of relief.
"My sisters visited me today." She showed him the trinkets and gifts they had left her. "Father wrote to me. Do you mind if I reply?"
"Of course not. Go ahead." Eros felt a pang somewhere between his chest and his stomach. She, unlike him, had caring parents who worried about her welfare and hoped for the best for her. They wanted her happiness. They didn't need to be placated with much – a simple letter would suffice. It was obvious she felt comfortable and loved by them, even if they had made some mistakes. "Zephyrus can deliver it for you."
"They asked me to go home with them," Psyche grinned anew. "But I told them I couldn't leave you."
Joy, bright and as invigorating as sunshine, coursed through him. He touched her softly on the back, trying to communicate to her through his fingers what he couldn't in words. He felt Psyche lean back in response to be closer to him.
"I'm very glad of that. You have no idea how good that sounds." Eros moved his fingers to brush her neck tenderly. "But you know you're not trapped here. Why not just visit them?"
Psyche's face darkened at that but her distaste wasn't directed at him.
"The village are still giving my family a hard time," she told him softly. "I don't think it would be smart to drag all that up again by returning and saying I was leaving again."
Eros had to concede her point.
"Are you hungry?" he asked. Psyche's smile returned and she nodded.
They enjoyed a private, peaceful dinner but Eros felt himself being distracted by his worry. She was just so much to lose. Psyche could sense this and tried to prod him out of his brooding silence with light questions.
"You know that I have a good reason not to tell you who I am," Eros felt the words leave his mouth before he could consider them. Being unburdened, even a little bit, was tempting. "Well, the great goddess Aphrodite can peer into the hearts and desires of anyone and read the name of the person that is foremost on their mind…"
"Yes?" Psyche was intrigued. Her bright eyes shone with interest and her food was suspended halfway to her mouth, forgotten.
"Look, your family have offended her. That much you know. But… What I'm trying to say is if my identity is secret then she can't steal it from your heart." Eros went on clumsily. "If Aphrodite ever found out we were… That I had…"
"Are you a former… partner… of Aphrodite?" Psyche sat back and stared at him, dropping her food altogether. Astonishment and a hint of his own terrors were reflected in her beautiful eyes.
"No! No, it's not that. I never…" Eros struggled to explain. "I'm not one of her lovers or anything like that. It's just… We weren't meant to, ah, happen this way. She was angered by the village's worship of you. She ordered that you were to be made miserable."
"But I'm definitely not," Psyche asserted.
Eros laughed shakily.
"I may have… Um, defied her. I went against her will. You didn't get the suffering she wanted for you. Do you see now? Can you imagine the danger, if she knew you were here and happy with me?"
Eros watched comprehension dance across Psyche's brow. She blinked once.
"But… Who are you, then? What power does she have over you?" Psyche spluttered.
Eros gritted his teeth.
"I'm sorry. I won't tell you until I find a way to make sure you're safe like I swore I would. I found a clue today."
Her mouth dropped open.
"You risked everything – you risked inciting Aphrodite's wrath – shouldn't you be more concerned about your own safety?"
"Losing you is the only way she can hurt me," Eros confessed.
There was silence as she considered this.
"You're that powerful?" Psyche asked in awe. Eros snorted.
"Nice try." There would be no more hints, he decided. It was too risky.
"I'm sorry," Psyche sighed and cupped her head in her hands. "I just… I want your name. I want it in my heart. Even though I can see you're scared for me. Even though it would be dangerous."
Eros stood, moved to her side and took her gently into his arms. She was trembling very slightly.
"I'm more worried than you know," he admitted. "But we'll find a way."
He carried her to bed and lay in her grasp, letting her play with his hair and soothe him with her touch. Under the cover of perfect darkness he let his invisibility go. Psyche ran her fingers across his naked back and he made sure his wings were tucked in tightly, hiding the texture of his feathers from her and hating himself every second for these measures he took to conceal his identity from her. Psyche's declaration had stirred his self-disgust; she deserved better than a nameless somebody that was threatening her life with his presence.
There was a hiss in the night and distracted by his woes Eros didn't recognise the sound of a candle wick catching alight. But then the shine flickered over his body and he rolled to face Psyche. He was visible. His wings were visible.
Eros's horror surged. Psyche's stunned eyes met his own.
"Eros…" she whispered.
Then there was a flash like lightning, the potent stench of rich roses and a greedy snarl he recognised as Aphrodite's.
He shook the brilliance of the power from his eyes and blinked. Psyche was gone. His mother had taken her from him.