Dancing with tears in my eyes

Feeling like she was wearing her poor nerves on the outside of her body, Aphrodite raised her hand to knock on the door to Zeus's office. The King had summoned her that morning and not left any reason or further explanation, so naturally Aphrodite feared it to be about her scandalous behaviour over the last month, the things she had done which had had the whole mountaintop gossiping about her conduct and even had Queen Hera expressing her worry. Perhaps Zeus had enough of hearing these things about his Goddess of Love and perhaps she would now be asked to pack her things and leave Olympos. She knew Zeus was not the god who saw with forgiving eyes upon excessive actions which could harm the Pantheon. She also knew that when he had made up his mind about something he was nearly impossible to sway. Remembering what had happened to her precursors, knowing what had happened to Prometeus and Ixion and several others whose behavior had not pleased the King of the Gods, it was understandable she was anxious now.

There was no one she could turn to, no one to ask for advice. Ares had just stayed a night and a day before he returned to his war, and the day had been spent in the forge of little brother Hephaestos, who had been making some new weapon for the War God. Hemera was away on Crete and she didn't dare to ask Hera.

So she was on her own! Help!

She had hardly knocked on the heavy oak door before it opened with a soft click and fanned up to admit her into the King's office. This room was even larger than Hera's and with large floor to ceiling windows on her right side, overlooking the lush park which was sloping down towards the lake. The left wall was lined with book shelves and in niches stood sculptures – the most exquisite artwork. Still Aphrodite hardly saw those things, since she was so preoccupied with the man sitting behind the large mahogany desk. Zeus himself, his platinum blond curls tied away from his handsomely chiseled face, in which unearthly blue eyes regarded her with a solemn expression. Even though the room rested in shade, and rain was falling outside, a mellow sunlight seemed to shine upon him.

Aphrodite swallowed, the walk across the polished marble floor seemed to take forever yet at the same time it was over way too soon and she was facing the King in all his majesty. It astonished her how different he seemed now from the laid back man on the Cyprian beach who had wanted her to come to Olympos. Now he was all business, the iridescence of his snow white tunic almost blinding her.
"Good morning, my Lord," she greeted him with a slight bow of her head.
"Good morning, Aphrodite," his voice sounded unexpectedly mild. "Have a seat," he indicated with a hand and she sat down in one of the ornately carved, plush seated chairs which were standing in front of the desk.

Zeus didn't do small talk, she knew that too, so she wasn't surprised when he almost instantly picked up a scroll from his desk and handed it to her.
"Have a look," he asked of her. "And tell me what you make of it!"

Compliantly she took the scroll and rolled it up, fearing what she would see... It was about Argos and the sad fate of the King there. Nothing about her! She read it thoroughly and then she read it again, trying her best to not show the gush of relief that flushed through her system. This king – Alcmaeon – had been very much in love with his young queen Mylasia, who had died in childbirth together with her infant daughter after just ten month of marriage, leaving the king childless and widowed and completely shattered to mind and soul. He had become unable to govern the City State and was now spending most of his time in bed, staring into the wall, saying very little, eating less. King Alcmaeon was fading away while his sister Eurymeda was taking care of the affairs of the state the best she could.

"This is – tragic," was the only thing Aphrodite could think of saying as she lowered the scroll, meeting the serious eyes of the king and feeling the tension in her shoulders relax quite a bit. He hadn't called upon her to chew her out but to give her an assignment.
"Tragic is only the middle name," Zeus agreed and unfolded his hands. "Another time when it's so hard to not use the divine powers and undo what has been wronged, to bring her back again."
"So – it is in your power to get her back – then why don't you? No disrespect, I'm just curious."
"Which you have all the right in the world to be. And I have the responsibility to give you a good answer. You see, Aphrodite, if we Olympians should start to meddle in the cycle of life/death like that, others gods might start doing the same. Then the mortal realm would end up in total chaos, where you had no idea who is to be alive and who is to die. And with people – mortals as well as gods - constantly questioning why you let this one live and that one die. No, the cycle of life/death must be kept going uninterrupted. That was something I and a lot more deities from various pantheons around the world set up as a golden rule in the beginning of the Modern Era. Now, for me, as the King of the Gods, it is an obligation to keep up that rule."

"I understand," Aphrodite said, "Still I know what it's like for King Alcmaeon, his heart is broken and he has lost the will to live."
"But he cannot give up," Zeus replied. "He is the king of Argos, he has a responsibility to carry on, both with governing and assuring that his nation gets an heir."
"How about his sister?"
"She can govern all right, but when it comes to succession – she's past 40, too old to have a child."
"So fragile – and so fast their lives pass! I feel so sorry for them every time something like this happens."
"Yes but now is not the time for being introspective, we have to help Argos and we have to help Alcmaeon."

"So what can we do?"
"Aphrodite, I know you can fix this situation."
"I..."
"Find a new queen for this poor king! Find someone who can breathe the spirit of life back into Alcmaeon again, make him rediscover his purpose. He doesn't have to be as madly in love with this new bride the way he was with poor Mylasia. We all know those passions to be so rare, especially with mortals and their short life spans. But he'll have to feel affection for her to somehow overcome his loss. She ought to be someone who can soothe him – without pitying him. A strong yet compassionate woman who can bring him back on track again."

"I understand. She might be hard to find, this new queen, however I will start the very moment I'm out of this door. And with some divine intervention I'll have them encounter. "
"That's great, girl! I knew I could count on you!"
"I'm not there yet," a tiny smile.
"But you will be, I know it. If anyone can do such a thing, you're the one. Hera has told me such a marvel you are with these attainments. How naturally you sense the personalities of people and find their working matches."
"Thanks, Zeus," her smile was brighter now and the king returned it, looking less solemn, and it felt as if even the daylight out there had brightened up.
"There's nothing to thank for, my dear. You're doing good, and then it's only natural of me to say such a thing." Zeus's tone was dismissive and Aphrodite rose. "And by the way, try to slow down the pace with which you sample the Olympian men. Or it will be hard for you to start turning them down when you tire. They can't all expect to have you, some must be left dreaming as well."

She looked at the King, he seemed oddly relaxed about the situation, probably because he was of a philandering nature too. Then she remembered how his enforcer Kratos and those other fighters had joked about her. No, she'd be damned if she let any of those jerks over the threshold to her bed chamber, no matter how much she liked well-built men.
"Yes, they can dream," she asserted. "I'll stick to your Ares."
"Good choice," Zeus nodded his head. "He can need someone to mellow him a bit. But don't tell I said that!"
"I won't," she promised him.

*o*o*

"They named the city Athens after her! Poseidon's gonna have a fit!" Astella said and laughed.
"She really did have to rub it in, right," Phaeote grinned. Then they all laughed and Aphrodite leaned back in the chair and let the warmth of the sun caress her face and neck. It was a wonderful day, nor too hot neither too chilly, the air was fresh after a persistent rain which had been falling the whole morning. Just on a whim had Aphrodite sat down for lunch in the Poplar Garden Square together with those talkative garden- and weather goddesses and they had welcomed her with open arms, interested in what gossip she might have to have. When she had confessed she didn't have that much of the commodity they had all smirked and Aesyle had protested:

"We heard you guys flipped off Darbena and her idiot hangarounds the other day."
"Oh well," Aphrodite laughed and shrugged it off. "That was mostly Hemera's deed."
"She's learned from her sister then," Cleis said. "Nyx really knows how to get people to shut up."
"What's the matter with those girls anyway?" Aphrodite had to ask. "I know Ciresia holds a grudge against me – long story for another time – but Darbena, Zentha, Pira and Ona? They were giving me shit over the stupidest things - which were absolutely none of their business."
"Ah, Darbena," Cleis responded. "These broads are way below us. We are goddesses in our own name, answering directly to Lady Demeter. While they – well perhaps not Ciresia – but the other punks, they have like two or three deities above them before they even gets near one of the Twelve."
"What do they do?" Aphrodite asked, rested her chin in her hand, while regarding Cleis.

"Oh, a little bit of this, a little bit of that. Counting seeds and pulling weed. Making sure chickens don't get ill down in the mortal world. Finding lost donkeys. You get the picture?"
"Guess I do," Aphrodite replied. "They do menial stuff. Not that many notches over the average mortal. Envying those who have gotten further in life."
"You might say that yeah," Astella agreed and broke a piece of bread in two, dipping it in the oil and pouring salt on it before putting it in her mouth and following up with a sip of watered wine. "Perhaps that's one reason they are so morose. They see this girl who comes here hired by Lord Zeus himself and who becomes a very good friend with Ares. And managing things they wouldn't do if they so tried for centuries and centuries."
"Which they actually have," Aesyle added with a thoughtful expression.

"Talking about Zeus," Aphrodite tried. "Anyone familiar with Argos?"
"Isn't that more like Hera's domain?" Phaeote figured, clearing her plate, pushing it to the side and reaching for an orange for dessert.
"Yes but Zeus gave me a job down there nevertheless. So I need to get in there to check a few mortals out, and I need to do it without evoking suspicion."
"Well, turn invisible then?" Aesyle suggested.
"I'm not comfortable in my invisibility among mortals," Aphrodite responded. "I find it easier to impersonate someone. But it should be someone who can sneak in everywhere without anyone looking twice at her."
"A cleaning slave," Cleis suggested. "No, offence, Aphrodite, but those women are hardly looked at twice. Everyone see them there taking care of the crap but no one ever seem to recognize them."

"Could be an idea," Aphrodite nodded her head. "Like those nymphs here who collect the laundry and the things we strew around usselves without thinking. They're there all the time but we hardly pay any attention to them, but I guess we'd notice if they one day should be gone."
"Or we notice when they gossip about us," Aesyle pointed out.
"Yeah, tell me about it," Aphrodite huffed.
"Where is it you want to sneak in?" Cleis asked. Aphrodite had come to understand that she was the pragmatic operator in this group. The one who pushed things forward while the others were mostly analyzing things.
"The Royal Castle," the love goddess replied and emptied her cup of wine, as if her statement was actually one step closer to finishing this lunch and returning to work.

"I can get you in there," Astella offered. "I know a few people – minor gods, not more than Immortal Ancestors to be true. But they can be helpful for a little something. Something an Olympian can perhaps provide with."
"Like – what?" Aphrodite knit her brows.
"Oh, an ear with one of the twelve sometime in the future," Cleis replied. "Don't fret, Aphrie, you don't have to bed them if that's what worrying you."
"Uh, actually..." she begun but Cleis went on:
"Actually Eurvandis is quite handsome. But while a god can get laid anywhere, an Olympian benefit is worth a lot more. You never know when such one can be beneficiary to collect."

"Thank you, dearest! I'll seek him out, see what he can do for me then, and what his price is," Aphrodite smiled as she stood up from the meal table. To be true it wasn't the first time she had cut deals like this, since it was a very important part of godhood. And if he was of her taste, she wouldn't mind sleep with this Eurvandis to get what she desired. It was a cheap price and most of the times delightful as well!

*o*o**

"Zephyros, long time no see!" Aphrodite called out, smiling and waving merrily at the seldom seen wind. Iris and she had sat down in a plushy settee in one of the Cozy Alcoves of the Great Lower Hall, each of them with a cup of sweated wine to round off the dinner. Surprised, Zephyros smiled back, he hadn't expected Aphrodite to appear so friendly. Ever since he learned that she had started to spend time with Ares, had he felt slightly embarrassed around the love goddess, doing everything to avoid her company without making it too obvious. He couldn't help fearing to have made a fool out of himself in the company of this lovely being that she was finding him silly or boring or strange in some kind of way. Odd, he had never suffered from bad self-confidence earlier, but when it came to Aphrodite he couldn't help feeling that he had put his foot in his mouth somehow.

"Hello miladies," with a slight hesitation in his steps did he approach the duo beneath the small, pointy window, slipping down on the one free stool. Two cups stood on the table, and he placed his own there as well. "So how's it going?" he went on, regarding the women in the sheen of the pinkish divine light from the small glass ball on the table.
"Spectacular," Aphrodite grinned, before she nodded to the other goddess. "Iris and I've been working together, helping Hera with all kinds of complicated things. Complicated mortals!"
"Oh, they can sure be a mess," Zephyros grinned, as his eyes curiously slipped over to Iris. She was smiling friendly at him, curiosity gleaning in forget-me-not-blue eyes under long lashes and he met her glance with interest. "I'm glad I'm just into weather and such. So tell me!"

"You go ahead," Aphrodite nudged at Iris, knowing that she would skip the embarrassing parts. The two of them and Hera had promised each other to keep these a secret. And Iris wasn't a messenger goddess for nothing, she knew how to tell a story. Soon she had the hazel-eyed god all mesmerized. He was leaning forwards, as if he desired to hear the words quicker, delve deeper into the secrets. With hand on chin was he listening intensely, sometimes prodding in a question or two. So it became possible for Aphrodite to slip away to have a dance with Poseidon. The goddess of love had never been good at disappearing, she simply was too illustrious. But she had practiced lately, and now that little drill came in handy, Iris and Zephyros had become so caught up in comparing stories of the mortal world, that they barely noticed that the blond goddess was not around anymore.

As the night wore on Aphrodite danced with several more gods, a bit disappointed that Ares was not around. Now and then she stole a glance over to the corner, noticing that Zephyros and Iris were still talking. Zephyros had moved from the stool now, sitting in the sofa next to Iris, and the way he was closing in on her personal sphere and the way she let him, told Aphrodite that she might have hit home with these two. It appeared to her that they were of the kind who could talk forever, every time she looked they had leaned just a little bit closer to each other, seemingly oblivious to the world around them.

Until just before midnight, when there suddenly was somebody tapping on her shoulder. It was Iris, grinning at her where she swirled around with the wind, his hand in an almost proletarian hold of her slim waist, crumbling the peach-coloured silk.
"Mind if we, uh, split?" Iris was asking.
"Not at all," Aphrodite returned the smile. "As you see, I'm busy with avoiding Apollo trampling on my feet."
"Heeey!" Apollo protested and she turned around and placed a pecking kiss on his cheek.
"Just kidding, honey," she murmured into the shell of his ear. "Just kidding, you're an excellent dancer, my God of Music!"

Next time she looked, there was not a sign of neither Iris nor Zephyros on the dance floor, and naturally she searched out the alcove, where they had been sitting earlier. But there was only a nymph around, plucking together their cups and placing them on her tray before fluttering away to the next cluttered table. As a matter of fact, Aphrodite didn't sense the two of them anywhere in the surroundings, it was obvious they both had left. And something told her that they had left together. It was working.

*o*o*

"Aphrodite! Aphrodite, wait!" It was Erato the Muse who came running, her red and yellow scarves fluttering in the wind behind her like so many butterfly wings and her quick footfalls crushing against the snow white gravel leading up to Aphrodite's entrance. The Goddess of Love, who was about to enter her home, turned to look at the redhead who looked all upset and anxious, having 'bad news' written all over her pretty face.
"Now what?" Worry was suddenly stabbing her belly from the inside. "What's wrong?"
"It's Ares! He's..."
"What happened?" A cascade of pictures assaulted her mind, seeing the war god in various situations with terrible beasts. Gigants, surviving Titans and other monstra. Beasts which could well harm even an Olympian. Being the God of War, Ares was always the first in line and the one most probable to take a beating.
"He's... He's been..."
"What, spit it out!" the Goddess urged as she had to steady herself against one of the pillars to the portico, the smooth marble cold under her palm.

"This Goddess. Who works for Hestia, whatshername... Cirella something..." Erato searched her mind.
"Ciresia, yes..."
"She's been... he's been... They've been together. More than once apparently."
"Why? When...?" Aphrodite felt the blood disappear from her face and her mind sway.
"When you were down in Attica and Argos. Actually I've no idea how serious it might be but when I told Clio what I've seen, she said she'd seen them too. Kissing – and not exactly chaste. And yesterday they were dancing wantonly around the floor in the large hall, like they had never done anything else in their whole life. I guess even Ares didn't know how good that girl was at dancing. She really seduced him there on the dance floor."
"She did?"
"Uh-hm... well..." Erato licked her lips awkwardly and let down her eyes for a while before facing Aphrodite once more. "Actually, I... I thought you should know, Aphrodite... Please, don't behead the messenger!"

It was no big beast. It wasn't a Titan or a Giant. It was a bitch! Her old rival had gotten back at her for Ceridion after all those years. Ceridion, a man Aphrodite had almost forgotten. Now it all popped up in her mind again. Her old fling with that god who later had chosen Ciresia in her stead. Was it going to happen again? Was she seeing a repeat of those sad, old days which had eventually had led her to Cyprus and finally here?

"No way!" she heard herself say.
"I'm sorry, it's true," Erato insisted, fiddling with her ear boob. "You can ask anyone who was there at the dinner yesterday. Oh well, not all, quite a few had left when Ares and Ciresia began to do their thing. But..."
"I'm not distrusting you, Erato," Aphrodite asserted. "It's not that. It's just that I... I'm not going to give up on Ares. He's mine. Not someone for that stupid old hag to come and try to take away from me."
"But you know, Ares might not be serious, perhaps he's just playing around."
"I know! I'm not Hera. And I don't own Ares. We're not even... But it's just that... that..."
"Oh, dearest!" Seeing the tears which Aphrodite couldn't hold back no longer, the Muse reached out and took the half a head taller goddess in her arms, letting her cry and wet her strawberry-blond up-do. What was a ruined hairdo when someone needed comfort in any case."

"You know what?" Erato said after a while.
"No..."
"Come home with me! To us! Apollo's there. He has written some new songs and he wants to try them out on us."
"You think that's a good idea?" Aphrodite let go of the other goddess, but still holding her hands on her shoulders.
"I'm not sure. But I believe it's better than to sit at home and weep instead. After all he's just a bloke. And we're going to dance and sing tonight. That may be the distraction you need, hun!"
"All right," Aphrodite replied after a while. "I'll do it. I'm gonna dance. I'm gonna dance with tears in my eyes. Oh – Ares..."

*o*o*

And she did – that night the Goddess of Love was dancing with tears in her eyes, spinning around among the Muses on the waste floor of the Parnassos' Ballroom, swirling and swaying, not bothering to hide that she was crying. She had never been as beautiful, Apollo thought as he played and sung, never as enigmatic. He almost lost his tune now and then, almost forgot the lyrics although having living with them for weeks now. He sure wished he had stayed with her, kept her. Because then nothing of this would've happened...