Hera's Olympus

3

Hera glances out the window of the limousine, noticing which street she was on. "Another turn, and we'll be at Bacchus," Hera says loud enough for the chauffeur to overhear.

Ares gives her a confused look from the rearview mirror. "Do you want to go there? To a club?"

Hera gives him a look. "What's wrong if I do?"

"Well..." Ares looks away, avoiding the topic.

"Well, what?" Hera pushes, feeling offended.

"Okay, okay. People just like to get handsy and all that. It's called Bacchus, Hera– Dionysus named it after himself for grace's sake." Ares shakes his head in disapproval. "I also don't like the idea of people grinding on my mother." He glowers.

Hera laughs. "Oh, you're just overprotective, my sweet angel."

"Well, if you want to go, then I have to be there. To make sure no one tries anything." Ares nods to himself.

"Not dressed like that, you aren't." Hera narrows her gaze onto her son's work suit. "Pull over to one of those casual party-going clothing stores."

"You sound old when you say that," Ares says, smiling.

"I am not old!"

"Plus, can't we just go to a Walmart?" Ares asks as he pulls next to a curb, parking.

"I refuse to go to a whole different country and enter a Walmart." Hera glares at him for even suggesting it, folding her arms. I'm too important for a Walmart.

Ares opens the door for Hera, and she glances up at the building Ares decided to stop at. Indigo Strike. Past the window display, there was only a color palette of purples, blues, and blacks. The designs were also very eccentric and revealing. Hera turns her head to Ares, skeptical.

"What? Is this not what you wanted? Young people like this, I think," Ares frowns, not sure what young people are actually into these days.

Hera sighs and stands next to Ares, letting her thick braid rest over her shoulder. A few passerby glances in Hera's direction, surprised by Hera's natural beauty, and one man tries to stand up straighter to appear taller. It was no use since Hera was a good half-foot taller, and she despised anyone who even tried to outdo her. Hera stares down the second man, who refuses to waive his piercing stare, and finally, Ares comes into view and feigns charging at them. The duo looks away and hurries off.

"Sometimes I wish I could launch men into Tartarus," Hera mutters, opening the shop's door. After a few minutes of browsing, Hera realizes she can.

Ares nervously keeps his distance from his mom, hoping she wouldn't target him to test her theory.

"Hmm. Ares, what do you think of this?" Hera holds up a satin purple dress with a low v-neck and short enough so that it wouldn't have been able to hide half her ass.

Ares immediately shakes his head no. "Unless you want it to be a shirt." He grabs a longer dress with an illegal amount of sparkles. "This looks nice?"

Hera gives him her signature glare. "I'm not trying to attract a flock of birds." She moves on to the next best thing: a black strapless dress. It was long, almost enough to reach her knees, and it looked stretchy enough for Hera's build. She throws it onto Ares's shoulder, and he slowly turns his head towards her focused expression.

"How long do you plan on staying here?"

She gives him a straight face. "That's none of your business."

Ares sighs, like every other person shopping with their mother.

About an hour passes, and Hera is content with the pile of dresses Ares is begrudgingly holding in his arms. She looks for an employee to show her to the dressing rooms, and a young man is immediately at her side.

"Hello, have you found everything you're looking for?"

"Yes, I just want to try them on now. Where is the dressing room?" Hera asks politely.

The man whose name tag read Nick leads Hera eagerly to the two dressing rooms in the store's back corner. "Let me know if you have any troubles or don't want something–"

"No need. My son will assist me," Hera takes the first dress, and the hourglass turns upside down.

After a good fifteen minutes, Ares looks over at Nick, who smiles up at him then flips through racks of dresses, making sure they are correctly organized. "So, you work here?"

Hera smacks her forehead when she hears that.

Nick nods. "I got a nametag and everything," he laughs.

"Nice." Ares looks away, giving up on socialization.

"So, is that your boss?" Nick tries to rekindle Ares's lost pride.

Ares nods. "Boss, mother, Queen, and an assortment of other things."

Hera comes out in a tight navy dress that threatens to expose her top half. "I don't like this one either." She grabs dress number five out of twenty and disappears again.

"All moms are queens," Nick suddenly says.

Ares nods. "Mines a narcissist, though."

Nick laughs at that. "You're pretty funny." Nick focuses on his job again.

Ares smiles to himself. I'm a cool guy now.

Hera looks into the wall-length mirror and praises herself. "You are beautiful; you know your worth, but this dress knows it can't handle my greatness." Hera bursts out of the dressing room, throwing out dresses from the pile Ares has, and then allows the following two dresses to come out alive. She undresses and tosses her failed outfit into the heap behind her. Hera examines the white dress that she managed to find in all the dark vivid colors. It was long enough to reach a little past her knees and sufficiently broad enough, and thankfully stretchy so that she could walk comfortably. The neck part looked similar to a turtleneck to Hera, and she's intrigued to see slits on both sides of the dress and opaque white string to connect the pieces. Once Hera puts it on, she smiles, curving her body so that she looks over her shoulder, her left hand on her hip, and most of her back faces the mirror. The dress made Hera feel bold and powerful. "I can swoon any man now," she chimes. She walks out in elegance and poses, waiting for compliments.

Ares is just relieved Hera found a dress so fast. "You look very nice, now let's go." He turns over to Nick, who was busy putting back dresses that didn't fit Hera's standards. "How much is the dress?"

Nick looks up and sees the dress. He frowns, "I believe that is around three hundred and fifty."

Ares sighs and shuffles the bundle of clothes to balance them onto one arm, grabbing his wallet with the other. "You take card?"

Nick nods. "Yes, we do. Are you ready with your purchases?" Nick hurries up with his errand and moves over to the register, scanner in hand.

"Oh, we aren't done yet," Hera remarks.

Ares looks mortified. "We're not?"

Hera laughs sweetly. "Oh, you wish we were." She looks at Nick and asks, "Do you have anything for my son? I want him to look just as nice as me."

Nick examines Ares and grins. "Follow me."

Hera tugs on Ares's arm, his spirit gone.

"I just want to go home," the god whines.