Works and days
Fit with laughter, the three goddesses landed on the terrace, stumbled through the glass doors and into the spacious and opulent private living room of the King and Queen of the gods at the fifth and topmost level of the Palace of Zeus. Almost tripping a few decorative statues in their erratic haste, Hera lit up faint red and purple flames of divine light in the hanging glass orbs, rendering the place in a cozy dusk. Finally she started a fire in the nook, primary blue flames, the way the queen preferred them.
"Did you see his face?" Aphrodite tittered as she slumped down in a coach, kicking off her sandals as she went.
"Yes, he looked like he believed his last moment had come," Iris grinned while landing next to Aphrodite, reaching for one of the peaches at the golden plate standing on the low table in front of them. "You sure have a way of scaring the shit out of people, Hera," she stated before she bit into the fruit.
"Well, I've been practicing," the Queen replied while she began taking off her long cloak made out of a ginormous amount of peacock feathers. That cloak was magic and spectacular, it could flow behind the queen and take forms of wings or a cloud or a fire burning in blue and green and do a million other things, which Aphrodite couldn't even begin to guess. No matter that the garment was incredibly awesome, Hera treated it with as much respect as any peasant's suede jacket, as she let it indifferently fall to the floor and land into a forgotten heap, something for the nymph to pick up later.
Then she began to pull the pins out of her hair updo to remove her equally magnificent crown.
"Now, this was a great idea, Aphrodite," she grinned at the Love Goddess, who had pulled up her feet underneath herself and snuggled beneath a cozy red woolen plait. She was pinching her nose, her hand still smelling faintly of the Theban prince. That acrid mortal smell she used to be so familiar with earlier.
"Why thanks," she blushed and Hera went on.
"We managed to scare this poor sod so bad that he will doubtlessly behave himself now, when he knows that his father's jealous wife is watching," the last was not said without a healthy doses of sarcasm. "And besides, he'll understand that he will never again receive love the way he did tonight. So he'll have to focus on something else in life than chasing down girls. Learning his upcoming trade for instance."
"Do you really think it'll work?" Iris asked. "That Valeros will behave?"
"Based upon experience I bet he will," Hera said. "I could see it in his eyes that he knew he was over the line tonight. I just wish it was as easy with his father."
"Is Zeus really that impossible?" Aphrodite asked, feeling a pang of sadness for the Queen.
"Not always," Hera shook her head. "But I don't know how many times I've discovered blond little demigods down there, knowing well whom the seed came from. I don't know what his problem really is, I try to be there for him whenever he needs me, and I sure know that I have his heart. Still he can't help straying; it's like some insane fixation of his. So if you know any failsafe way to make him think differently, Aphrie, you're totally welcome to share that secret." With those words, Hera removed her huge peacock crown and placed it with a smirk on the head of a bust of her husband.
"You know, Hera, that there's no quick fix when it comes to love and hearts," Aphrodite answered. "But if I should get one brilliant idea, I'd sure be there to tell you."
"Looking forward," Hera said and slipped down in the chair opposite of the younger goddesses. "But next time we're doing this stunt, I want to trade place with Iris."
"Oh no," Iris held up her hands. "I cannot sound as mad as you do, Hera. Not even when I'm practicing."
"How about with that ex of yours? Aren't you stark mad at him?" Aphrodite asked.
"He just makes me cry," Iris sighed and at that moment she sounded so incredibly sad, that Aphrodite felt like her heart was going to shatter, and she noted that even Hera's eyes turned moisty. The joyous mood from earlier was nearly totally gone.
At that moment Aphrodite understood that she needed to do more – at least when it came to Iris. Hera and Zeus' relation would be a later matter.
*0*0**
Iris, yes. Walking home in the late of the night, Aphrodite couldn't stop thinking about the misfortune of that gentle little goddess. She had a good heart and a winning way, and she sure deserved so much better than to be cast aside like an old rag by some obnoxious bloke of a minor god. Aphrodite just wondered how to help her. It was yet too early to pair her with someone, her wounds and longing still too raw. But Aphrodite figured that she could think ahead; see if there was anyone on this mountaintop of eccentric people who might be a match for the dear messenger goddess. First thing tomorrow, she figured, she should make a list of potential candidates for Iris.
"Aphrie-dear, lost in thoughts?" the well-known voice cut through her thoughts.
"Ares?" she turned around and met the glittering, dark eyes of the god of war. So alike his mothers, strange that she hadn't noted that earlier. He was sitting upon a bannister to the bridge she was just about to cross; the red and blue divine lights shining from the lanterns were doing strange things with his appearance as they swung in the soft night wind.
"The very one, and at your service, beautiful," he grinned.
"So how was Macedonia?" she chit-chatted.
"Bloody."
"Yeah, with you that's no surprise. But otherwise."
"Rainy and cold. Like a wet, gray blanked had been swept over the whole area. To be true, it was more like mud wrestling we were doing there than regular warfare."
"Haha, I'd love to have seen that. Ares all dirty like a pig in a pit."
"You would, heh?"
"Yes, as a matter of fact I do. I'd love to come with you one day, to see what it's like being at war."
"Honestly, Aphrodite, that's really not your thing."
"You sure? I mean, let me get the chance to judge that for myself, will you?"
"Why so moody, dear heart?" With the lightning speed only a god can manage, Ares was soon up next to Aphrodite, taking her chin in his hand, having her to look at him. "Come, sweetie, let me lighten it up!"
"Ares," she took a step back, making him loosen his grip. "I'm not really in a playful mood right now, I seriously want to hear you say why I cannot come with you and see a war for real?" Against her will, she heard her voice going high-pitched, as if she was more annoyed with the god of war than she cared to admit. Or was she just tired?
"Dearest, a war is nothing you 'see', like some Athenian play," Ares replied. "Some people love to imagine war like a story of honour and glory. But that's the edited version for the bards. Generally a war is a lengthy and dreadful affair, with a lot of horrors involved. People getting wounded and dying all around you, blood and dead bodies. And pieces of dead bodies. Horrors and pain! It's nothing for a lovely and gentle lady like you. You'd hate it already after five minutes."
"Well, if that's the case, I can always go home. It's not like I'm a mortal who has to require a horse and who might be in jeopardy during her trip home. Thus you don't have to fear for me at all! I can take care of myself, and you ought to know it."
"Aphrodite, it's not just that. I have no doubt that you can take care of yourself, especially in any pure mortal war."
"Then what is the problem really?" she asked, a bit more mellow now.
"I fear that if I would take you with me, and you get to see my dirty handicraft, that you would think lesser of me, for having so much blood on my hands."
"Ares," now she sighed, feeling the dirt-green annoyance creep up through her mind again. "Do you really think that little of me? Do you really think I would judge you because of something I've known all the time that you are involved in? If I'd think less of a warrior the way you seem to envisage, then you wouldn't have come anywhere near my life, my dear!"
"Aphrodite, I sure didn't mean to upset you..."
"Then take me with you next time you're off to war!"
"No. And that's a final."
"Alright, fine," she snapped. "Thanks a lot for the confidence!" then she hastily rounded Ares and resumed her walk back home. Behind her, she could hear the god call her name, but she was absolutely not in the mood for him at the moment. Couldn't he understand that the reason for her to come to war with him was because she wanted to be with him and because she wanted to get to know that part of him as well. The business part of Ares, not just the spare-time part.
*0*0*
Having shortened the list down to three men, Aphrodite was planning to see Iris again, to perform a small 'interview' with the goddess, nothing more than a chat really, just to grasp some minor details of Iris' preferences when it came to love and men. Aphrodite made sure to wake up early the next morning, earlier than she usually did, since she knew that Iris was a morning bird, often off sending messages for the Royal Couple while most Olympians were still in bed. Wanting to catch Iris before she took off, Aphrodite hurried with splashing some water in her face to wake up and quickly pull a dress over her head, then she hasted off to the Palace of Zeus.
It was a wonderful morning, the sun still low in the sky and its mellow sheen was filtering through the tree branches, glittering on dew cowered leaves, glittering in the canals and cutting rays through the mists still lingering in low places on the ground. The birds were outsinging each other in the tree tops and off in the distance, Aphrodite could hear alert centaurs challenging each other for the arena. Most of the divine lights had burned out in their lanterns, but here and there some odd fires were still flickering, so much paler and washed out in daylight than during the night.
Not bothering with the regular entrance of the Palace, the love goddess shortcut through an open balcony door on the fourth floor and sprinted up the stairs to the fifth and final floor, Zeus and Hera's private penthouse. The ornate front doors of sturdy oak were slightly ajar, so she slipped through – only to hesitate at the sound of angered voices.
"Hera, listen!" a deep, rumbling bass.
"No Zeus, you listen to me! I'm sick and tired of hearing yet another battery of excuses from you. Especially since I've heard it all before, just another order of the wordings. And they are all getting so old! So don't insult my intelligence with another stupid explanation for another blond prince in another city-state. It's so obvious that this Anaximachos is yours, and this time it can't even be about saving a royal line, because there are already a whole bunch of princes and princesses on that island. Now, I've just got some help with straighten out that conceited brat Valeros..."
"And I'm sure you did a fine job with that as usual."
"It's not exactly my job!"
"But Hera, just let me explain who..."
"Zeus!" Hera raged so the walls shook and Aphrodite felt that eavesdropping on another royal quarrel was not exactly a good way to start this day. It only made her miserable and in a peculiar way almost guilty. Besides, she could beat her finest necklace that Iris was nowhere near, or Zeus and Hera would not choose this opportunity to fight. So either was Iris already out there working or still in bed. Hoping for the latter, Aphrodite returned out the door and made her way over to Iris' place.
Iris' house was rather small and with a simplistic garden in front of it, just some roses and a lawn. Aphrodite guesses the messenger goddess simply had no time for gardening and therefore chose to skip all those lovely but time-consuming flowers others were adorning their gardens with. Al right, you could always ask the nymphs for help, but for one reason or another Iris might not have considered that option. Instead, the most original detail on this estate was a small tower in a corner of the house. A tower reaching one story over the rest of the building and adorned with a toppy, gilded and somewhat spiraled roof, an exotic detail which the goddess must've picked up on one of her many travels around the world. While crossing the short path up to Iris' house, Aphrodite called out a good-morning, but there was no reply whatsoever. Magically fastened to the blue and red door in the shade of the portico, there was a note:
Sleep-in morning, please do not disturb.
Talk to Hermes if any messaging is urgent.
Love / Iris
"That is something I can respect," Aphrodite murmured to herself as she let her hand fall. Personally she took all the chances there were to sleep in; it wasn't a secret that the Goddess of Love was no morning person. Now, she could always see this goddess later. Turning around, she found her now having a whole morning of nothing particular to do, before she was expected at Hera's office after lunch. Since she knew that there was someone she needed to apologize to for being an ass yesterday, she turned her back on Iris' house and set off across the mountaintop towards the home of Ares...
But when Aphrodite arrived at her destination she found herself just facing another disappointment. Ares had gone off to his war again!
"Workaholic! Waraholic!" Aphrodite made a face and balled her fist, now this day didn't exactly start out well. She realized she needed to get distracted with some kind of business of her own to not get all depressed. Now, besides Iris, there were a few other things on her immediate to-do list. Like keeping her promise to the wind Boreas and see if there could be a match between him and Oreithyia of Attica.
*0*0*
Iris had dreamt about Aphrodite, and the dream had been so vivid it had wakened her up. In her dream, she and Aphrodite were sitting in one of those small atrium-gardens of Zeus palace, a garden which was really nothing more than a light-shaft with a few small pine trees, climbing bougainvillea and a singing fountain. Aphrodite had asked Iris about her taste in men, almost intimidating questions, and Iris had felt herself blush at the very private nature of them. Hesitating with the last answer, she had hidden her face in her hands, and when she had looked up, the love goddess was gone. In spite of that Iris had felt that she was not alone in the tiny garden, she had experienced a distinct sensation of being watched. Had she been heard as well, when she had been trying to give Aphrodite those answers? Had this mystery person heard Iris telling what he loved to do with a penis?
Hastily turning around, and with burning cheeks the only thing she had seen was a retreating shadow in the gallery. No one she could identify. Angered and embarrassed, she stood from the small marble bench, deciding to follow and confront the spying stranger.
That was when Iris' eyes had fluttered up and she realized that it had all been a dream. Regardless, she still felt mortified, as if someone had somehow managed to catch her dream, regardless of her having all the regular magic wards surrounding her home. But there was a lingering sensation of Aphrodite around, and Iris was not sure if the goddess had really been in the vicinity or if it was just fragments of the uncomfortable dream still fluttering around in her mind.
Darn, she hated this kind of dreams. It always felt as if people could see right through her and discover that she was dreaming embarrassing things. Now, this dream was probably caused by yesterday's events, which in spite of being really exciting and fun had left a bitter taste in her mouth. She had walked right out of a relation and in bed with a mortal man and a demigod son of Zeus on top of that. Now, this was so unlike her, and she hoped that Aphrodite hadn't got the wrong impression of her, because she wasn't really the salacious kind. And blaming it on business was really a laugh. Besides, she found herself wide awake now. She, who had hoped to sleep for at least another two hours and turn lunch into breakfast.
She sat up in bed, pushed away the orange bed-cover and lowered her feet to the floor, feeling the soft rug beneath the soles and the chill of the draft from the slightly open window snake around her legs. It had turned colder suddenly. Was Zeus in a bad mood again? She had deliveries to do for him, she could really start working immediately, and hope it would banish the discomfort of the dream.
*0*0*
It was already late in the evening when Aphrodite and Boreas reached that little corner of Attica where Oreithyia had her home. The sun was dropping rapidly, orange rays hardly lighting up the ground and the shadows growing long and indistinct. The wind had picked up, making the trees sound like a million of whispering voices as their leaves rustled. As a counter-point the small brook was gurgling merrily from the far side of the clearing.
"This is where she dwells," Aphrodite told Boreas as she laid a hand on his chest to somewhat hinder him from rushing into the clearing where Oreithyia's hut laid. The whole glade with its neat flowerbeds, small pond, brook and waterfall was magically concealed to provide the goddess' dwelling with some privacy. While that magic sure worked when it came to keeping mortals, lower deities and other beings away, it held nothing against the power of two Olympians – in theory. In effect stomping across wards like that was beyond rude. That was not how Aphrodite wanted to start off the report with Oreithyia, because then poor Boreas would be chanceless.
"She's at home?" the Wind asked.
"Yes," Aphrodite nodded her head. "You know what to do now? What role to play?"
"I – think I do..." Boreas staggered slightly and Aphrodite gave him a blink of one eye to encourage him.
"The magic protection is a bit of an obstacle of course, since just by breaking it we're announcing our powers, that we are no mere immortals but rather powerful deities. Suffice to say we're going to have 'Olympos' written all over us, so if we don't stick to the scripts, if we start to show off, this li'l goddess is going to slam the door right in our faces – very literally!"
"Aww..." Boreas sighed. "I told you it was a stupid idea."
"So you want out?"
"I didn't say so, but..."
"Then come along now! Show some audacity! She is going to like you after all. She just has to get over her anxious prejudices."
Boreas cleared his troth, beginning to say something before he thought better of it. Donning his magic concealment he sauntered over to the small, white hut and raised his hand to knock the green-painted wooden door. He hesitated for a second to glance over his shoulder to the still concealed Aphrodite, before he rapped softly on the door.
It didn't take long before it was pushed slightly ajar and a dark-haired head was seen in the opening, curious brows lifted over blue eyes.
"How may I...?"
"I am a bit in a predicament and I wonder if I could apply to your hospitality, Milady," Boreas asked and Aphrodite cringed, he was talking too fast – and why suddenly this formal language from a guy known for swearing and spewing slang around him in the manner of a satyr? But Oreithyia just tilted her head, looking even more curious. Then she opened up her door a bit more, making a beckoning gesture with her other hand.
"Do come in! I don't get strangers as guests that often. Most people can't find their way through my magic barrier after all. I'm Oreithyia."
"I'm Bori."
"Nice to meet you, Bori."
Boreas smiled and then he turned and held up his hand in the sky. On that cue Aphrodite masked herself into a white pigeon, flew over and landed softly on the knuckle of the god.
"I hope you don't mind, milady, but I have a messenger pigeon with me. I'm supposed to report my achievements, although there hasn't been that much to write home about yet."
"Whom are you working for?"
"One of those Olympians. And they sure are demanding bosses."
"They are? Oh – I've heard so too. Was there and saw the hubbub when the goddess of wisdom threw out her uncle from Cecropia the other month. I don't know whom scared me the most, the sea god or that daughter of the Lord."
"You can say their names, you know," Boreas grinned. "It's not like you're some poor mortal whom they're gonna strike down at the mere sight. Not when you can conceal your house this well."
"But you made it in."
"That's sort of my specialty. You know, I'm a wind god, and the wind gets in everywhere."
"I'll try to remember that," Oreithyia smiled as she stepped aside, holding up her door to admit Boreas in.
Boreas laughed and spurted something untellable while following Oreithyia inside. Opening the door to a small kitchen she offered him guest to sit down by a sturdy-looking and rustique table, asking if he cared for anything to drink. Boreas accepted a cup of wine and Oreithyia filled up two of them before slipping down on a chair opposite of the god while Aphrodite did the dowe thing and found a position which made it appear as if she had perched herself on top of the large cupboard. There she could remain more or less unnoticed while she listened to the two deities talk the evening away.
Sure, they did connect in their own roundabout way, Aphrodite had to work very little of her magic, and then it was mostly about keeping them from notice their tiredness since they would need the time to get under the skin of each other for real. They didn't become tactile that night, however that wasn't expected. The Love Goddess had told the Wind to advance nice and slow and wait for Oreithyia to take the first shy steps towards more intimacy. Talk would have to do until then. Meanwhile he'd have to show patience. Hence Boreas had made up a story of working for 'Aphrodite, Goddess of Love' – failsafe for sure. Then, before Oreithyia stood up to show him to the guest room, he had made a show out of scribbing some nonsense on a piece of paper, calling upon his 'carrier pigeon' and asked her to take his message to Aphrodite. Said goddess was glad that the Wind didn't giggle at the absurdity of the situation since she had a hard time staying solemn.
"Now you're on your own, good luck," she whispered to the Northern Wind before she took off into the night, shredding her dowe appearance as she went, bound for Olympos.
As Aphrodite neared her mountain home, there was something echoing in her mind, Boreas saying 'the wind gets in everywhere'. There was something in that statement that had given her an idea. Raw and unrefined for the time being, however Aphrodite was sure she would be able to use it somehow. As she was rounding the Palace of Zeus, she once again heard the Queen of the Gods crying out her husband's name. But this time it was quite a different kind of scream escaping from the open gallery to the penthouse, and Aphrodite almost stopped in the air.
"Well, if that wasn't an orgasm of earth-shaking magnitudes, I don't know what is," she said to herself before she banked west, towards her own home and her beckoning warm and nice bed.