The Arrows Of Love || VMIN

A Dance

Author's note: As always, visit the other book for this chapter's notes before you start. Happy reading!

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"... a clever work of Hephaistos set with sparkling gems in mastery refinement. This he had made for his Kyprian bride, a gift for his first glimpse of Archer Eros."

- About the necklace gifted to Aphrodite by Hephaestus, Dionysiaca, 5. 88 ff by Nonnus (trans. Rouse), C5th A. D.

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Jimin was nothing but a human, afterall.

In the vast different realms, there were creatures of power, of strength, of magic- there were divine gods, brutesome monsters, and cunning pranksters, all living in their own destined class and place.

Humans were one of those, too. Residents of challenging earth, like other mortals. Incapable of any extraordinary powers, outrageous strength, fantastic magic; yet depending on nature, one could be a god, a monster, or a prankster just fine.

An animal of both virtue and vile, of yearning for the forbidden, of conquering the unknown; and he was neither impractical or self-abhorrent enough to consider himself above any of those.

He was just a human, afterall. Nothing more, nothing less.

Tying the thin string of rounded sapphire beads around his waist, the Prince glanced at the mirror in front, wet tuffs of black falling over his eyes.

The dark blue silk of the chiton he had chosen to wear today clung on his lightly damp skin, one lapel tucked between his chin and chest, the other slipping from his arm.

His bodiless servants could very well do these for him, Jimin thought, putting his previous cord of inner conviction to rest for now; but there was a tranquil happiness in taking care of one's own self, that he either didn't know before or never acted upon. So now that he had gotten a taste, he wouldn't share.

Satisfied with the snug fit of the gems around his midriff, he pulled the falling lapels back on his shoulders, humming to himself as he sat on the readied stool waiting for him before the dresser.

Outside, it was another lovely morning, like all mornings he had been encountering in this palace, surrounded by a garden blessed with eternal blooms, by maybe Spring himself.

On earth, however, as his calculations predicted, it was the dreaded day for Persephone to return to his husband. Through the six months onwards, docile Kore would be called Praxidike, the ferocious Queen of Hades.

Before, when he stayed surrounded in the cocoon of familiar noises of his servants, subjects and devotees, he too had mourned at the signs of upcoming winter, harsh and ungiving, had mourned the approaching hardships the farmers and paupers of his kingdom would face; but now he also wondered, how this day was seen in the depths of the Underworld, in the land of the dead where nothing never grew?

Most of all, how was it felt by Spring, himself?

Deftly, with gold clips, the human pinned the blue lapels still on his shoulders, eyes fixed on his reflection.

It had been nearly nine weeks since he had set foot in this place of complete fulfilment, securely guarded by towering walls of massy clouds his sight couldn't cross, bereft of human company and mortal speech. The warmth of a body, he could only feel at night, but his eyes had been barren to the delight of seeing a living being nonetheless.

Restless, he had started to feel nowadays for it- causing unpredictable changes in his appetite and bone-deep exhaustion he hadn't even felt while being on Gaia, when he used to run simply on his will alone.