The Sun God's Love

“My father Apollo admired Hyacinthus above all others.

Forsaking his shrine at Delphi, the navel of earth, he haunted

the unwalled city of Sparta, close to the river Eurótas.”

---- Ovid

It is often the most tragic trees that bear the most lovely fruit.

Sparta strikes fear into the hearts of many men across the Grecian states. This place of violence and war, infamous throughout Greece, was home to a gentle and handsome prince. Son of Amýclas, Hyacinthus was the most beautiful of all men in Sparta and the states around. His tall, lean body and beautiful face, a gift from Aphrodite herself, basked in the glory of the Spartan sun among the many warriors of his land. Hyacinthus was often found spreading his swift steps in the fields outside his city. His speed and strength marked him as a true son of the warring Spartans, but his gentle spirit, so vastly different from the Spartan practice, made him beloved by all who knew him.

The young prince was loved, especially, by Apollo. The sun god, so revered even in Sparta, loved Hyacinthus more than any other. From his chariot high above, he saw his beautiful lover running in the field. He immediately laid waste to his work and jumped down to the field outside the Spartan city.

Hyacinthus' beauty was even more abundant up close. His soft, brown eyes reflecting the golden meadows he ran in and the curve of his brow accentuating the kind gentleness in his demeanor. Apollo Silverbow, god of the sun, music, and medicine, was instantly enamored by the beautiful being in front of him. He had been struck in the heart by Eros, and his heart was no longer his own.

“Lord Apollo!”Hyacinthus exclaimed after seeing Apollo. He immediately halted his steps and bent down on one knee, bowing his head in reverence to the divine god in front of him. “My lord, it is an honor. Pray tell, what brings you to Sparta?”He asked. The young prince’s voice was as light and soft as Apollo’s lyre high upon Mount Olympus.

Seeing the beautiful youth kneel before him in pious, good faith, Apollo was struck speechless for the first time in his divine existence. From birth, on the island of Delos, Apollo had been a great orator. Never once was he at a loss for words. Yet, alas, here he was standing in his golden armor, with his bow slung across his back, breathless before a mere mortal prince. Hyacinthus' beauty was truly radiant. The outline of his muscles appeared in perfect clarity before the god.

“My lord, I pray to serve you in any way. I am your servant in mind and in heart.”Young Hyacinthus ventured again. His words reflected his heart, for he, too, was struck in awe of the god’s divine beauty. The prince had only witnessed Apollo’s appearance in the statues placed in the temples he worshiped. This was the first time young Hyacinthus laid eyes on Apollo Farwalker.

“Rise, Hyacinthus.” Apollo said, finally.

Hyacinthus rose as he was told. He dared to raise his head once to look into the eyes of the god before him. Apollo’s brown pupils specked with gold from the sun itself struck the prince as being to beautiful to stare into for long, and so he darted his gaze before Apollo could return the act.

“Why do you look away, Hyacinthus?”Apollo asked. His godly voice now as soft as a kitten lying in the sun.

“I am not worthy to look into your divine eyes, my lord.”The young prince replied in earnest. Apollo stepped forward and lifted his hand to Hyacinthus' flushed cheeks, tracing the outline of his exquisite features. He stopped his hand in its movements and guided the prince forward. Hyacinthus went without a resistance. He eagerly stepped into Apollo’s arms, now encompassing his strong, athletic body.

Their lips now met as dawn meets twilight. Hyacinthus' body shook as he felt the god’s body pressed against his. He could taste faint traces of nectar and ambrosia on the lips gently caressing his own. Apollo’s strong hands, so accustomed to his bow and lyre, slowly pulled Hyacinthus closer and held him there with lustful want. His smile, as bright as the sun in the sky, pressed into the prince's mouth as Hyacinthus returned his affection hungrily. The young prince of Sparta had never known such passion, and quickly he, too, fell into the well of desire.

After this first encounter, Apollo and his lover spent many more days together, frolicking in the summer sun. He grew to love Hyacinthus with a ravenous passion. Every departure became utter agony for the sun god when his oracle or the council called him away. He longed to lie next to Hyacinthus more than any other earthly desire. The god’s bow and lyre lay to waste in his divine palace, and he now, against the admonishments of all the other gods, quits the feasts of Olympus early for his waiting lover in the city of Sparta. His love was Hyacinthus' and his alone.

One day, after the sun had reached its zenith and was descending slowly to be engulfed by Nyx, Apollo lay on the fields outside the city, watching Hyacinthus throw his discus high into the air. His movements were swift and smooth, a testament to his years sporting. The prince soon tired of the game, though, and came to lay next to the sun god. He lay close, touching his skin to Apollo’s divinity. Apollo took his hand, threading it with his own, laying a kiss upon it.

“Will you return tomorrow, Apollo?”The young prince inquired. He was always desperate to know when he would see his lover next. Apollo turned his head to find Hyacinthus' pleading gaze. His heart softened instantly, and he nodded to reassure the young prince of his return.

“I can come at dusk if you can wait.”He said, brushing the golden locks from Hyacinthus' warm eyes. They now lay on their sides face-to-face under the burning embers of the fleeting sunset.

“Of course, I’ll wait.”The prince replied, a dazzling smile appearing on his handsome face. “Can you stay long?”

“Perhaps not, the summer solstice is coming. There are many things to attend to.” Apollo answered regretfully. He despised the time he was forced to spend away from Hyacinthus, but he had no excuse to shirk hit duties. His many absences have already garnered the disapproval of his father, Zeus Almighty. He saw Hyacinthus' face fall into disappointment, a sad lull interrupting his joyful disposition. Apollo at once pulled the prince close and pressed a kiss on his cherry red lips. He could not stomach the despair he brought to the one he loved so much. “After the solstice ends, I will be here much more. Don’t fear. It’ll be over soon.”

Hycinthus nodded at his words and pressed his face closer to the god’s. He lifted his own hand to gently stroke Apollo’s soft, brown hair. The young prince closed his eyes, letting the warm smell of the god fill his chest. It was the smell of the sun on freshly laundered linen. Apollo hummed to the rhythm of the prince's thumb moving above his temple. And, for a blissful moment, there the lovers lay under a gilded layer of crimson gold.

“What will your father do for the solstice?”Apollo asked as the last rays of celestial light left the sky.

Hyacinthus opened his eyes and turned onto his back. His light brown irises swept across the purple sky as the constellations appeared above them. “He will honor all the lords, I think. But he has said that he will make a special sacrifice to you, Apollo, for your generosity to Sparta...and to me.”

Apollo thought about this a moment. He pressed Hyacinthus' hand to his lips once more and let his gaze lay on his lover’s chest as it heaved evenly. A mortal’s life was fleeting to the divine. But Apollo loved Hyacinthus as an equal and, at times, more than an equal. As the sun god watched his lover breathe in the dying light of the day, he felt, for the first time in eons, the pain of immortality.

“What is it, my love?”Hycinthus asked, raising himself on one elbow, gently laying his hand upon Apollo’s exquisite face. His eyes were drowning in a sea of concern. “Have I said something to upset you?”

Apollo shook his head and pulled Hyacinthus on top of him. The young prince went gladly, burrowing his nose deep in the crook of the god’s neck, breathing in his scent. Apollo ran the palm of his hand down his lover’s back to console him, feeling the prince’s soft skin stretched upon the expanse of his back. A while later, the god’s arms settled to hug his beloved prince tightly, easing the aching pain in his chest.

“Tell your father to slay a ram for me, my love, and I will come to bless Sparta.”He said, finally. Hyacinthus nodded, and the two lay in the darkness until they were both summoned away.