Short Stories

Daphne and Apollo (2020)

(This is a modernised retelling)

Eros was fuming. His brows furrowed further as Apollo finished laughing. No one else in the household let out another word.

"Apollo," Eros gritted his teeth, pushing towards the drunken god more. Apollo doesn't bat a lit. After taking another sip he laughs a little more. The sun god raised a conspicuous glance towards him.

"Ah, Eros I see you haven't had any wine?"

"No," Eros responded, taking the glass. "But might it be better as a sober host than drunken bard. I think you've had too much."

From behind a few rows of tables I watched as a few deities slowly shifted away uneasily. My tongue felt like a slithering serpent, flickering over what I could say. But the gods weren't so easily persuaded. My stomach churned.
The thing is,''Apollo added, shifting our attention onto him. "I haven't touched a drop." Bending his nose over the cup, the winged god took a sniff. As soon as his eyes drew towards the glass, Apollo swiftly knocked it upwards. Drenching Eros in the red wine.

Shocked, the glass splintered across the ground and into a thousand tiny shards. So sharp they slice over the skin of my ankles like tiny knives. The god of love immediately became the god of anger. A gasp hurried through the crowd as a couple other nymphs dashed over with towels. Reluctantly, he refused them, all the more his violet eyes glimmering sharper and harsher still.

"Eros!" I yell from across the room. Half hoping he will hear me and half praying that he'll ignore me. He doesn't.

Turning his gaze towards me, I couldn't help but shudder. His features smouldered like smoking embers and his grip on the tablecloth reminded me of Zeus and his thunderbolt.

"What is it, Daphne?" he asked, his voice thundering past the disturbed guests and what now remained of the party. My stomach rattle in my body. A wooden lock tossed into a storm.

"Maybe take it easy on him, I mean he's drunk and-" Eros' expression softened a hard exterior of sympathetic nuance flooding his tone. "NO Daphne, he is an immortal. He deserves to be held accountable for his actions and punishment." he responded softly. Intercepting the moment, Apollo poured a second glass over him.

Snatching Apollo's wrist, Eros twisted the god around unsheathing an infuriated glare. He frowned at him and then back at me. "Power without punishment is just tyranny." I watched as he summoned a few drierds over. "Take the sun god to one of our guest chambers so he may sleep off his drunken state."

The summoned deities nodded and obliquely took the drunk god away. All the while, Apollo joyfully continued his horrific comments.

"Party's over!" ordered Eros.

A heavy groan ran across the crowd. Eros had hardly let anyone into his home since Psyche arrived and it was even rarer to see the god face to face.

"Do I have to repeat myself?" And without another complaint the guests scattered. I turned to leave when I heard my name being called. Eros walked towards me. His toga still reeked with the bright pink stain of Apollo's wine yet despite this his composure remained intact. 

"You wanted to speak to me?" I asked.

The god studied me for a moment and then nodded.

"You seem to get so wrapped up around his drunken antics. Surely we all act the same way when we're intoxicated." I added.

The winged god stiffened.

"Apollo is not young despite what he may seem like to you. When a mortal gets drunk they have no control but a god should know not to in the presence of others."