The sun slides lazily over the marble floor. My eyes are open softly as I am bathed in the light. I am an aesthete in life. I adore the little moments like these.
I am watching her from where I sit on the edge of a terrace, legs hanging over the drop down the mountainside. I roll my shoulders. They are tight. I have been working myself too hard. My wings fall back down as I relax again. The dark feathers are cool from the breeze off the slope. I smile, knowing they will catch me if I ever do fall.
Aphrodite is generally delicate. Never kind, but delicate. She prefers to stay out of the politics in the pantheon, although she certainly indulges in the gossip and drama. Often she causes it.
She is also vain. She does not exaggerate herself, and she has every right to be vain. She is gorgeous. Borne of the sea foam and the land, Aphrodite stands out among the Gods, gossamer hair like ichor and a smile as mischievous as it is stunning. She has had many lovers.
Don't get me wrong. I am not one. I have never been able to love anyone. Besides I am considered her son. I may have existed long before her. I have forgotten. Now I only know that I am much like her. Cruel and oh so beautiful.
I am wicked. I may cause what is often considered as a lavish, intimate thing; love. But I have abused my power before, and do so again and again. I have made lovely girls fall in love with dreadful men. I have made kings fall for peasants or their own grooms. I have made people fall in love with someone just barely out of reach. I twist their emotions until their hearts break. Then I watch. No matter how long I live, I still find it curious, how love drives them mad.
It is not a pretty thing, love. That is why I will never indulge in it myself. I have seen enough to know it does not end well.
I shake my head, my thoughts falling slowly away. Aphrodite is leaving. She has disguised herself in a light blue sash and robe over her lithe figure and with a crown of wheat braided through her hair. Demeter must have done it for her. Her lips are tinted slightly with red.
She visits the mortals often to check on her altars and worshippers. Also to attend the fanciest bath houses and hear the best concerts. It is rumoured she has even joins Dionysus on occasion. I swing my legs over the rail and step off it, walking towards her.
"Where might you be off to?" I ask.
"To see to my offerings and the people I attend." She says. "I have heard some.. stories... of late. I need to make sure everything is in order."
I lift a dark eyebrow as she turns and leaves. Well, this might be interesting.
After she is gone, I pull of my top and take a long nap in my room splayed across a chair. I need the sleep. I awaken when she returns only because of her screeching voice.
Gods, she's angry.
Her cheeks are deep red and her eyes glare so hard the rest of Olympus, drawn by her anger, shies away from her as if she might cut them down at any moment. Even Zeus keeps his distance. Not so thunderous today huh?
"Little witch princess!" she hisses, although she still looks ethereal as she does. "They're forgetting me! They have stopped worshipping me altogether! They think she is a goddess, more beautiful than me! I AM beauty! Fools. She will pay for her disrespect to the Gods. She is cursed. I will take her magnificence away from her." She storms out of the chamber, leaving us in silence and dismay.
I slip away to an antechamber and pick up my bow. I pluck its string of golden light and it hums. I push back my curls when they fall into my eyes and close them to feel the sound. I let my thoughts wander again. When you live forever, you think a lot.
Is it fair that she blames the girl? Aphrodite is extreme in many ways. It is the people who have begun to worship her. I am curious. Sometimes I need a little fun in my long life.
I return to the terrace and look out over the clouds. She's out there somewhere. I don't envy her, but I don't pity her either. I can only go so far in lightness. My nature isn't caring. I have promised to keep myself away from mortals.
.
The next morning I am watching the sun rise in misty rays when Aphrodite sits down onto the step beside me, the fabric of her skirts laid out even though dew clings to the stone.
"Her own Father mutilated her face." she starts quietly, a smile toying at the corner of her mouth as I look down at her, crossing my arms. "I came to him in a dream. He was so green. I only planted a few suggestions for his problems. But how she screamed as he drew the blade down her pretty cheek. It was wonderful." Her smile drops. My brows pull down. "Then she killed him."
Aphrodite balls her hand into a fist and hits the step. "Yet she remains free. And beautiful!"
"I want her dead. Eros. DEAD! You have less morality than any of us. I trust a devil like you to deal with her." She looks up at me, her eyes narrowed like a snake. "Make it slow." She stands and steps away, leaving me standing alone on the steps.
I do not want to be involved in this mess. I avoid mortals at all costs. And I hate petty tasks. I stretch my arms and wings up and feel tension in my shoulders. I work it out slowly, feeling the pain. It's only pain that keeps us living. Pain and her sister. Love.
