Unpredictable Love
Hermes adored moments like this.
The sun was rising over the horizon, beams of light cascading down the mountain as Hermes pushed his opponent into the ground. Their bodies came together, muscle on muscle, skin slick with sweat.
Dionysus gasped as he got pinned under the larger man, “You could go easy on me…!”
“Where's the fun in that?” Hermes laughed before he pushed away from the ground and, to a greater extent, Dionysus, “Come on, try harder!”
Dionysus rolled to his feet, reentering the fight with the most aggression he could muster. He grappled with Hermes for what felt like an eternity.
“I’m more of a lover than a fighter,” Dionysus chuckled breathlessly.
Hermes grunted as Dionysus pushed away from him to regain ground. “Oh, really? Then why do you agree to these sparring sessions?”
“Because…” Dionysus chuckled darkly, “I like seeing you all buff and sweaty; it's the best start to my morning!”
The more petite brunette landed a roundhouse kick to Hermes’s chest as the man tried to process what was just said to him.
The air rushed from Hermes's lungs, causing him to stumble backward.
“Don't stop now!” Dionysus laughed as he tackled Hermes to the ground, pinning him.
“One!”
Dionysus was straddling him.
“Two!”
His face was so close that he could feel his breath ghosting over his lips.
“Three!” Dionysus cried out with a laugh, “I win!”
“You're supposed to throw me three times, not count to three.” Hermes released a chuckle as he gazed up at Dionysus, long blonde hair splaying over the ground beneath him.
“Eh, I kept you down for three seconds; that's how the Americans do it.” Dionysus quipped.
Neither of them moved from their positions; Hermes, in particular, enjoyed their lack of movement. Not that he would tell Dionysus…
“American wrestling is fake for a reason.” Hermes rolled his eyes.
“Then why aren't you taking over?” Dionysus asked, a saucy smile displaying itself relentlessly as he watched Hermes swallow.
“And miss this view?” Hermes smirked.
Their eyes trailed over each other as a moment of quiet passed between them.
As if a silent agreement to step back had passed between them, Dionysus rolled off of him, his bare back landing on the ground as they both lay there in exhaustion.
The sky was a mix of pink and blue as the sun finished its ascent into the morning hours. However, dark grey storm clouds rolling in from the horizon did not go unnoticed by the two of them.
“We'll probably have to have a meeting today.” Hermes sighed.
“You wanna skip it?” Dionysus grinned over at his best friend.
Ever the dutiful man, Hermes shook his head, “It might be important…”
Thunder sounded through the land as Dionysus released another groan of annoyance, “Of course he wants a meeting…”
“It will be over soon,” Hermes reassured him as he climbed to his feet.
The blonde man held his hand out to Dionysus, helping him up as they moved to get their togas readjusted. The men dusted themselves off before heading to the Parthenon.
****
Born a daughter of the night's embodiment, it only seemed fitting that Eris possessed raven tendrils of hair that blanketed her head like the shadows of a fallen tree, illuminated only by the cornflower blue hue of her eyes. Her skin, a beige olive color, practically glistened in the morning sunlight.
Though an intimidating force to be reckoned with, mortals have constructed no temples for her; they make no sacrifices in her name. Eris would have huffed indignantly if mentioned by anyone else, but deep in the recesses of her mind, she wondered about her creation. Chaos and destruction were often direct results of war.
Whether she existed or not, the world would never remain peaceful. Not as long as mortals enjoyed the sinful delicacies of power and greed, not as long as the Gods cradled their hubris.
As a result, Eris could find herself restless with no specific duty or obligations. The Goddess would then behave as she was today, snooping through the business of other Gods in hopes of discovering some trouble in which to immerse herself.
This morning, her goal was to eavesdrop on the Olympians' Council.
The Council consisted of twelve Olympians. However, thirteen thrones circled the fire pit beneath the sun. The thirteenth throne belonged to Hades, God of the Underworld. He never made any appearances on Olympus unless feeling compelled.
Dionysus lounged listlessly upon his designated seat. Hermes stood with the others before their thrones in respectful preparation for Zeus's entrance.
With a distant roar of thunder, Zeus entered the Parthenon. Gray clouds spread across the sky, rolling before the sun and dimming the surrounding natural light.
At his side was Hera, Queen of Olympus and Goddess of marriage.
The King and Queen stood tall as they approached their thrones, gracefully displaying themselves before their audience.
Zeus possessed graying, blonde hair, his strong jaw adorned with a beard, and two slivers of scars on either side of his mouth. His eyes carried the clouds of a thousand tsunamis, and his voice, much like the billowing wind, projected effortlessly throughout the Parthenon.
“Take your seats,” He began. The surrounding Gods sat before their King, all attention directed at Zeus.
Focusing her eyes upon the rest of the Olympians, Eris began to notice an odd aura of detachment from Zeus's wife. Hera would often cling to Zeus at gatherings, even though she couldn't physically touch him. Her eyes would wander his silhouette as if to caress his very soul.
However, this assembly was different. Hera's eyes barely moved from their position, gazing at the floor in a dull trance. Strands of auburn hair fell loosely around the Goddess's neck, one by one escaping her usually tight up-do.
Suddenly, a chill traveled up Eris's spine as a feather-light force of warmth settled next to her body.
One glance revealed Eros, the God of Love. His olive-toned face was chiseled like the finest sculpture, and his strong chest peeked out through his toga, as if he were peacocking his dazzling looks for all to see.
“What are you doing?” He whispered.
“Go away,” Eris whispered back.
"You're right. We don't need to whisper. They can't hear us up here." Eros said, ignoring Eris's response as he continued calmly, "You may get into a bit of trouble if they discover you listening in..."
"Well, I wouldn't have to listen in if I had a seat upon the Thrones of Self-importance." Eris mocked.
In all honesty, she did not care for the Olympians' acceptance.
Eros’ face fell as if disappointed by her response, sweeping his jet-black hair from his face as he responded.
“Boohoo,” Eros drawled, “Do you really think that a temple and a chair will make you feel complete?”
"I'm bored." Eris sighed, her eyes shifting to the sky for a moment before returning to the crowd of Gods. "At this point, the humans don't even need my help causing discord."
Eros seemed to consider this, his wings settling against his back and indicating an extended conversation in progress, "Sitting upon a throne does not mean you have completed your journey."
Eris fought back a groan of annoyance, her eyes narrowing as she spoke, "If you're so wise and righteous, then why is Zeus the king of the Gods and not you?"
Eros shrugged before elaborating, “I'm above all this. I do not need praise to do the right thing.”
Eris considered abandoning her post to enjoy the sultry sound of silence, away from Eros and his harmonious ways, when an idea struck her. Could it be that she was missing a partner in crime, someone destructive and driven by darkness like her?
However, developing a relationship could be tedious. Finding a God or Nymph that would consider her a companion was easier said than done.
"Eros," She said, softening her voice into a sweet coo, "you have to find love for any willing participant, right...?"
"No." The angelic God said, "I'm not helping you with whatever you have up your sleeve."
Eris nudged him lightly with her shoulder, her smile feeling less forced. “Come on, I think I have found the perfect match for me.”
He shifted his weight onto one elbow as he responded, “I'll be the judge of that.”
"Dionysus, he's the God of Insanity. Chaos and Insanity..." She sighed dramatically, like a schoolgirl in a dream, "Who else could be more suited for me?"
Glancing down upon the gorgeous god, she took in the thick mocha curls that hung loosely over Dionysus's neck, descending over his ears like lush vines. His olive skin glowed under the sun's rays, and long eyelashes indulged his green eyes in the darkness of their shade.
“So you want a match...” Eros mewled this over quietly, his calculating eyes searching the room of immortals. Once he seemed to have concluded, his sight zeroed in on Eris: “I normally do not take requests.”
“So you'll do it?” Eris asked skeptically.
Eris fought the urge to scowl as Eros shook his head slowly.
"Not exactly. I see two suitable matches for you and two suitable matches for Dionysus. He will not be an easy lover to win; the pain he carries is profound, and his future is unpredictable."
"The more unpredictable, the better," Eris said.
Eros gave her a look that seemed all too calculating for Eris's comfort. "Then I feel no remorse in telling you that I have already struck another in chase of his heart...."
Eris slumped when she considered engaging in some sort of love rivalry; it all seemed like so much work and sounded as appealing as any mediocre cliché… This arrow of his may motivate her even more.
“When will I receive an arrow?” Eris inquired, her voice steady and quiet.
"I must find the perfect moment to strike," Eros smiled brightly, "a life-changing or possibly even insignificant moment that will become an important foundation in your relationship..."
“Oh...” Eris yawned, “When will you strike Dionysus?”
Eros did not seem bothered by the Goddess's lack of enthusiasm, his smile shrinking into a much more playful version of the one he had prior.
"That's a surprise as well. Later on... or maybe I have already struck Dionysus, maybe I can strike more than once... and maybe I never will." Eros finished off his response with a raised brow and a soft yet derisive laugh, "You like unpredictable, right?”
