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[004. At The Library]
At supper, Lian swerves away from her usual seat beside Chiron and Mr D and paves her path toward the Zeus table. She sets her tray and sits down in front of Thalia, who fixes her with a questioning look in her blue eyes.
"I'm confused," Lian says by way of explanation. "You're confused. Talking is supposed to help, right?"
Talking helps, is what Hermes had once said to Ma, a long time back. When he first started to frequent them, Ma expressed great disdain that he would even dare to do so. They had secrets aplenty between them, Lian is certain.
Ma never reacted well to Hermes. But Lian and Thalia are a different story.
"Right." A smile flickers on Thalia's face, foretelling her joke. "Can't have you getting me all vulnerable and leaving me heartbroken, though."
"I do not need to get you vulnerable to break your heart," Lian retorts. It's true; they have grown attached to each other. "I can just leave."
"I'm still trying to figure out if you have a sense of humor."
"It comes and goes."
Thalia stabs a piece of roasted broccoli with her fork. "You hardly ever talk about yourself."
Lian strains her memory to see if that is true. She comes to the easy conclusion that she does talk about herself, but usually only with Hermes — a habit, really. In retrospect, having a god as her sole emotional outlet seems like a stupid decision. Would he grow bored of her sooner or later? More importantly, how much would it pain her, if he did?
"There is not much to say," Lian grounds herself in the conversation. No need to trail off like this. "I lived a solitary life, until I didn't."
"That's not what I'm asking." She raises her eyebrows. "The gods that seem to drop in all the time for you?"
Lian shrugs. A gesture so unusual she feels conscious seconds into it. "They showed up one day. And then they never left."
Thalia leans back, studying Lian with a newfound curiosity. "You make it sound so casual, like they're stray cats that wandered into your life and decided to stay."
Lian chuckles; a low sound that echoes a touch of weariness. Perhaps Apollo is, but Hermes is definitely not a stray cat — his first visit had a purpose, whatever it was, that he fulfilled through that conversation with Ma. Prophecies, Olympus, what-not. It faded out of significance in no time at all.
"Stray gods, I guess. I've learned they have a penchant for finding their way into places they're not welcome."
"They won't be seen here anytime soon then," Thalia says. "It's just. . . difficult to believe."
