Aphrodite's Flame

25.

Somehow I find myself at the entrance to Hephaestus lair. Again. The god himself is lying on his back in the grass, enjoying the warmth of the sun. His arms are folded behind his head.

'My guess is you're either trying to get away from Ares or Zeus,' he says without opening his eyes.

'How did you know I was here?'

'You wear a particular kind of perfume. Couldn't sneak up on me even if you wanted to.' He sits upright and studies me for a second.

'Why are you here?' I ask.

'I'm sorry? I can't?'

'Normally you are either inside your cave and I don't see you for 380 years, or you're running around somewhere else. Why are you here?' I cross my arms and he smiles at me.

'No reason. I should go in, though.' He climbs to his feet and starts walking in the direction of the entrance. I bite my tongue, I fight myself, but I can't win.

'Can I come with you?' I hear myself ask. Why on earth would I want to go inside that damn mountain? I hate it there. But I hate confrontation more. He glances over his shoulder and shrugs. Good enough for me.

***

Sitting on one of the wooden chairs I look around me. There are no windows in his forge, only openings to other cavities. There is light, however, but it comes from liquid rocks and fires. It smells a bit funny, too. My gaze stops when it meets Hephaestus' figure. He is sitting at a table, eating chunks of bread with his hands. There is this game we play, where he doesn't really acknowledge my being down here. He doesn't talk to me, he hardly looks at me. I don't know the rules to the game but I do know I don't like it.

'You do realise we have to get married eventually, right?' I break the silence. He sighs.

'Why?' I look up at him as his dark eyes meet mine.

'What do you mean, why? Have you even seen yourself? Have you seen what they did to you for disobeying Zeus?' He slams his hands down on the table and I whince.

'OF COURSE I CAN SEE WHAT THEY DID TO ME. I AM REMINDED OF IT EVERY. SINGLE. DAY.' The deep bass of his raging voice makes the whole mountain shake. He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath before looking at me again. I swallow. Seems like someone got his temper from his father.

'I don-' he starts, a lot calmer. I don't intend to let him finish his sentence.

'Well, of course only an ugly, limp god would live down here. Not all the way down, like Hades, in your own kingdom - but far enough down to not dwell between those beautiful enough to see the light of day nor between those powerless enough to be condemned to a life amongst mortalkind.' That was not kind of me, but Hephaestus doesn't need kind right now, nor does he deserve it. He smiles wryly and bows his head.

'Yeah. Okay. You should leave.'

'I don't intend to.' He gets up from the table as I get up from my chair. There is nothing he can do to scare me. I cock my head to the side as he approaches me.

'Did I hurt your feelings?' I half-mock him.

'Kinda did. Aphrodite, there is nothing for you down here.'

'Neither is there anything for you up there.' We are standing close to each other now. I fold my arms defiantly. He is getting angry again.

'Do you want to know what happened to my legs?! My parents got into a fight and you know how He is. He gets physical with you when he can't win with words. So that damn fool of a son of his stood up to Him, pushed him out of the way, swore his father would never touch Hera again. And they threw me down the mountain Olympus. This is what is left of me. I am a repulsive creature.'

'Maybe,' I say airily, looking at my nails. 'But you're also strong and able and your weapons are an art.' He smiles at me.

'And that is what the beautiful Aphrodite, goddess of Love and Beauty, wants from me? You want to get back at Ares? Give him a sword he cannot lift? Get back at Zeus and craft him the same gold chair I crafted for Hera?' Is that what I wanted? Not really, I guess. I blink and look at the god before me.

'I think you misunderstood my words. When I said there is nothing for you Up there I meant that there is nothing there that would make you happy. Even if you gained their respect, even if they stopped laughing at you, even if they bent the damned knee for you - there is no happiness at court and instead of feeling so damn sorry for yourself, you could look for happiness elsewhere.' He studies me for a couple of long seconds before turning around and resuming his work.

While he walks away with a bit of a limp, I look at his flame closely. It hasn't flared up in anger, nor has it dimmed in sorrow. This is his starting point, his burning at peace. It is bright purple, something I have rarely seen before. It is not high as a tree, since his self confidence is clearly damaged, but it isn't reduced to embers either. He still has some self-respect left.