heart-oftheforge-blog

[heart-oftheforge-blog]

Henry had always struggled with Antonia seeing him as he was, a broken down man. He often tried his hardest to stand straight and tall, no matter how much it hurt. He wanted her to see him as more than something she might just want to fix. When she’d urged him over to sit, he couldn’t help that his hand jerked just slightly beneath hers. It was something he hoped she hadn’t noticed, though he thought little of it when she confessed her true purpose of seeking him out. But he sat with her regardless, giving her hand a gentle squeeze before he forced himself to let go. 

“A...dream? About me?” He’d never considered that she would ever dream of someone like him. Antonia was in his dreams often, more than before it seemed, but he was shocked by her words and he couldn’t hide the look that crossed his face. What bothered him more was that it felt too familiar, like when he had woken from his own dreams with a feeling of disappointment that lingered on each time. Henry couldn’t think of a single reason that he would feel any disappointment towards Antonia. Each time she was kind to him, there was no reason to resent her. It was hard enough to recall his dreams, and it felt too strange that she would be dreaming of something similar. “I am not upset with you, and I cannot recall anything that you done that might disappoint me.” He couldn’t stop himself from reaching forward to take her hand into his own this time. She might not believe his words or sincerity, but he couldn’t let her leave thinking that he harbored harsh feelings towards her. Henry might not have been able to truly tell her how he felt, what he could do for her, but he wouldn’t have her remain upset by dreams that made no sense. “Think nothing more of these dreams, my dear. It is not silly, but you still should not worry yourself over something that could never be true.” He wouldn’t bring himself to tell her of his feelings from his dreams when he woke, not wishing to see her hurt anymore than she already did. 

Her brought her hand up to his lips, pressing them against her soft skin, before offering a small smile, one that still held sadness. “I would never send you away, prior engagements or not. You need no invitation to be here, and if something is bothering you such as this is, you should not be forced to hold it in. You can come to me any time you wish, and I will always listen.” 

maybe in another life // henry & antonia

[heart-oftheforge-blog]

It was no surprise that the knock at the door had escaped the man’s notice. With each night that had passed, late Henry found it harder and harder to rest. He couldn’t understand the small disappointment he felt each morning that he woke, or the odd dreams that filled his mind. It made little sense, but the face he saw each time reminded him of another that he’d grown fond of seeing now. 

He hadn’t left his study in nearly a day, and it showed on his face. His body was tired and he had almost drifted into a slumber until he heard a voice call out. Henry knew it well enough, and despite the tiredness he felt, he still willed himself up from his chair to face her. The pain that ran through his legs as he moved was not the only pain that he felt. He didn’t know why, but when his eyes met hers, his chest tightened...his heart ached. Her smile was mesmerizing, it always would be, but in that moment, he soon found himself looking down to the ground, hoping it would ease the aching that he felt. Something about it felt too familiar, but he would not send her away because of something that he didn’t understand. “My lady, forgive me. I did not hear the knock.” 

Henry bowed, as best as he could manage, before slowly turning his gaze back to the woman. “You are not intruding. I have told you that you are welcome here any time.”He never minded if anyone saw him going to the brothel, but it was surprising that Antonia had been the one to seek him out now. He wasn’t a married man, and his visits to see the courtesan had always been so innocent. But something was different this time. The last time he had gone to the brothel, her room was trashed and he’d seen the sadness in her eyes. Henry could only wonder now if something similar had happened again, or if she might be in some kind of trouble. “Is something wrong, Antonia?” 

maybe in another life // henry & antonia

@heart-oftheforge

It was rare for Antonia to hesitate about anything, she usually portrayed herself as a woman full of confidence. Now she stood outside of the Bishop estate, she felt insecure as she took in the sight of the beauty of it. She did things without thinking them trough simply because she wanted to. The dream about Lord Bishop had stuck with her, it had peaked her interest for the man who always showed her seemingly endless kindness. In the dream he had been vastly different, she still remembered how she had felt during the dream. The way he had looked at her had broken her heart. She would gladly admit it being irrational, but the need to see him had only grown the last few days. She wanted proof that he was not upset with her, she wanted to make sure that the heartbreak and shame were only a part of her dream. It was not supposed to linger for so long but it did. Whenever she closed her eyes, her thoughts wandered to the dream and the look of disappointment in his eyes.

The courtesan took a deep breath before knocking on the door using the fancy door knocker.  She was dressed in a light blue cloak. Lord Bishop never seemed ashamed of visiting her in the brothel, but it was not her intention to start rumors that might damage his reputation. When a servant opened the door, she opened her mouth to introduce herself but before she even said her name, the servant stepped aside and greeted her. It was not unusual for people to know her, she was easily recognisable with her curly, blonde hair and the style of dresses she wore. She was always dressed in bold colours, she found them all the more appealing than the plain colours some wore to blend in. “Lord Bishop is in his study, I will take you to him.” She nodded and followed the servant as she was taken to a door. She unclasped her cloak and handed it to the servant with a smile. “I can take it from here, thank you.”

Antonia lightly knocked on the door, only to find it open slowly. She peered in and knocked once more. “Henry?” Her voice was careful, not wanting to intrude. She stood half inside the room with a grip on the door. She had already pushed the social limits by visiting without invitation, yet she figured that he would not mind. He seemed to enjoy her company as much as she did his. She took in the sight of the room, taken aback for a moment by the beauty of it. He was so calm and stoic that it was easy to forget his title. He was different from the others, he did not expect anything of her other for her to be herself. When she spotted him, she quickly sent him a sheepish smile and a short curtsy. “Forgive me for intruding. Your servant showed me the way, I knocked but the door was not closed properly.”

[heart-oftheforge-blog]

[heart-oftheforge-blog]

He’d only half listened to what was being said, only because Hephaestus had spent more time occupied with the goblet in his hands, a goblet that constantly seemed full. He didn’t want to admit that what Dionysus said made sense, that the look on Hera’s face as they both returned would be all he needed. “Why should you care about anything that should happen between myself and Zeus?” No one had ever really cared much about what Hera did to him. He knew many of them sat on their thrones, laughing at him. 

“I’ll do it.” He waits for a moment, before erupting in laughter, something the man hadn’t done in a long time. No doubt thanks to the wine. “No, I won’t. But I will go, just to see the look on her face when I deny her yet again.” He knows his words are beginning to slur, but it doesn’t matter. No amount of wine would change his mind. “Who knows. I might change my mind on the way...”

gotta raise a little hell | dionysus & hephaestus

“You are no different from your brothers and sisters and you have the birthright to be welcomed into Olympus– a birthright that Hera has taken from you simply because she believed you were not worthy. Yet, as you’ve just proven, you have overpowered her and there is nothing any of the gods can do to harm you. So why not take that advantage a step further?” he suggested, straightening his posture as he prepared to deliver the real meat of his pitch.

“As you may know, I’ve made my journey through the underworld and have been given the right to ascend to Olympus… I say you come with me; we walk through those gates together, and you grant Hera her freedom on the condition that Zeus abolishes your exile. You can keep Hera forever bound to a chair as punishment if you truly wish, but I think we both know that you coming and going as you please in her precious kingdom would be the greater punishment, and with that you won’t have anyone constantly nagging you to set her free or have all this unpleasant hostility between you and Zeus for eternity.” His fingers waved at his side, filling Hephaestus’ empty cup with wine once again. “So what do you say?”

[heart-oftheforge-blog]

“You are carrying my child.. This makes me very happy.”

[heart-oftheforge-blog]

Have your cake and eat it too. There it was. He had waited for it, and sure enough, the reason for this sudden visit was Hera. By then, it was easy enough to see his annoyance, and without much thought, he picked up the goblet that Dionysus had offered and finished off every single drop of the liquid. “It is becoming rather difficult to create much of anything when I am constantly being interrupted...” He doesn’t mean to be rude, especially considering the man before him had seemingly done nothing. But Hephaestus wasn’t the most patient man, and the sooner he was alone in his forge again, the happier he would be. “All of you seem to think that I actually give a damn what Zeus will do. If something should happen to me, his precious Queen would never leave her beautiful throne, and he would do well to remember that. Now, I know that you didn’t come all the way here to offer me one drink, so please, tell me what you want.”

gotta raise a little hell | dionysus & hephaestus

“She does deserve far worse, and you deserve far better than to be punished for your cleverness– and you will be punished. Zeus’ patience can only run so thin if Hera remains chained. But I think I know a way where you can have your cake and eat it too…” Dionysus didn’t elaborate on his plan any further but strolled in through threshold as soon as he was made welcome. He ventured deeper into Hephaestus’ forge, and while the amount of weapons scattered about the place was overwhelming, he fought the temptation to touch any of them. Sitting down on top a table of small weapons with his feet dangling in the air, he rested his hands on the edge of the table. “Take a seat. Have a drink,” he insisted, a goblet of wine manifesting itself on the table, but it was clear the goblet was not meant for him since he didn’t reach for it. “You spend all these hours down here, slaving away to create these beautiful weapons; I’d say you at least deserve a drink.”

[heart-oftheforge-blog]

He was somewhat off putting and repulsive to many of the other gods, he knew that well enough now, so he isn’t that surprised at the nervousness and reluctance that came from Deimos. When the twins had been born, Hephaestus had wanted to hate them just as he had the others. But the forge god never found it in him, perhaps because he’d seen something in the boys that reminded him of himself in a way. 

“If your father insists on having you boys out there all day, you should at least having something proper to work with.” When he turned back to Deimos, he held a sword in his hands, offering it out to the boy. “This is my gift to you, but you do not have to use it now if you do not wish.” It was a weapon only worthy of a god. There was no other who could craft something so beautiful and deadly, and for that he had reason to be proud. He wouldn’t mention that he’d been working on armor for the twins as well. 

Hephaestus had once frightened Deimos. Not because of thescars on his face, or his imposing figure, but because of his fears that he felt shedding off the man. It wasn’t like his father; these emotions were raw, genuine. They were fears about those he loved, while Ares’s mind was often littered with violence, and it had overwhelmed him. Overtime he began to understand the other, and more often than not, he’d be found lingering in the forge just to watch the other create the magnificent weapons no other could master.

So when the other called him close, he did so, although withslight reluctance. It wasn’t often he was called upon, and when he was, it was because his father had some reprimand in hand.

“What is it, Hephaestus?” Deimos’s voice was softer thanusual as he took a seat, fingers curled up around each other as if showing his nervousness.

[heart-oftheforge-blog]

He blinked a few times, staring in slight amazement, and silence, at the other for a moment before turning as if he would go back to hammering away at his anvil. Hephaestus could practically feel a headache coming on and Dionysus had just arrived. “Your legs are sore? Tell me, were you thrown from the heavens, hm? I think not.” To say that he was still bitter over the whole ordeal was an understand. Hera made him as he was now. He might have been born differently, but the damage she had done was far worse.

“Come in and tell me what you want before I change my mind.” He knows that Dionysus had his own reasons for hating the Olympian queen, but knowing that he hated her just as much made Hephaestus almost smile. He wasn’t too interested in what many of the gods thought about his antics. No, the looks on his mother’s face and the anger she felt at such trickery is what he had wished for, and to know that he was the only one who could free her made him feel triumphant. “But, if you are here to propose that I release her, you can save your breath. I will not turn her loose, I do not care what Zeus wishes. She deserves far worse than what she’s getting now.”

gotta raise a little hell | dionysus & hephaestus

Everyone’s heard of you, you little shit.

“That’s fair,” he nodded with a forced smile, wondering why he even expected a different response. Hephaestus wasn’t exactly a social butterfly, nor a man with much patience, but loosening collars and getting people to act against their own nature was Dionysus’ specialty, and he wasn’t going to let a little rudeness stop him just yet. 

“Well, aren’t you going to invite me in first?” he asked, branding a sharp grin. “I was hoping we could sit down and talk. My legs are a bit sore from journeying through the Underworld, you know.” His legs weren’t that sore, but he figured it’d be much harder for Hephaestus to close a door on his face if he was already inside. 

“I know what you did to Hera, and I applaud you for it. Honestly. I nearly pissed myself from happiness when Hermes told me. See, I don’t think there’s anyone who hates that woman more than I do…” Hera had killed his mother, stripped him from his family, cursed him with madness, played a hand in the demise of his loved ones, and had done everything in her power to make his immortal life a living hell. Hatred didn’t even begin to describe what he felt for the Queen of the gods, but like everyone else, he was powerless against her. “–which is why I believe you’ll be very interested in what I have to propose to you.”

[heart-oftheforge-blog]

He had felt bad at first, that the love goddess had been pulled into something she clearly never wanted with someone she would never truly love. Over time, Hephaestus had grown to love his wife with everything in him, despite how many times she wandered away from him. Or he had convinced himself that what he felt for her was love. Whatever it was, each time that she found herself with another, it pierced his heart and each time a small part of that love left. 

When she kissed him, it wasn’t as before, when he was the one who craved her attention foolishly, and their kisses meant more to him. Now, he could sense the urgency in the goddess before him, but Hephaestus could not say that he felt the same. At her words, he finds himself taking a step back. “Say whatever helps you to sleep at night. my dear. Whatever helps to convince you that what you’re doing isn’t wrong.” It isn’t his intention to hurt her, despite how much she had wounded him, but the forge god stubbornly refused to feel guilt for his words.

[GREEK WEEK]

[heart-oftheforge-blog]

[heart-oftheforge-blog]

@fearrhasaface

The sun had nearly set and from the steps of his forge, Hephaestus could still hear the commands being yelling from the training courtyard, commands from his brother that were always aimed at his twin sons. He hated the way Ares treated the boys, how much he pushed them. It wasn’t right, though he knew no one had ever bothered to listen to him when it came to Deimos and Phobos. Of all things to come from his wife straying away, the two young gods had always held a special place in his heart, unlike any of her other children.

When he finally sees Deimos coming down to round the side of the forge, he waved the young god over. “Come here, little warrior. Sit and rest. I have something to show you.”

[heart-oftheforge-blog]

“No. I will be in my forge for the remainder of the evening. I trust that you can handle…this, by yourself.” He turned to leave, but stops suddenly. The second he knew of the child, it weighed on his mind, and though he knew she likely would not answer, he needed to ask, “Who is the father of this child? My brother Ares, again?”

[GREEK WEEK]

[heart-oftheforge-blog]

The clanging of a hammer against the anvil had nearly been enough to drown out the noise that reached his ears. Fuck. Hephaestus had known all along that eventually, someone would show, demand again that he release the beast from her new golden throne. And once again, he would refuse. He had been thrown down from the paradise of Olympus simply because he was different...crippled and unworthy, as some had said. That was not what a god was, and because of it, each day he labored in the forge of his own making during his exile.

You might have heard of me.

He might have laughed if he had not been so disoriented from the sudden presence. “Everyone’s heard of you, you little shit,” is the first thing that comes to mind and it’s what leaves his mouth when he finally shuffled around to face Dionysus, sweat dripping from his brows. He had no desire to talk to any of them, not when all they wished was for their ‘Queen’ to be let loose again.

“What do you want?” It was a question he already knew the answer to, but he asks anyway. It was only a matter of time until some form of punishment befell him for his trickery, but a part of Hephaestus didn’t care. What could his father do to him that was possibly worse than Hera’s actions? For a mother to throw her own child away so easily, what could be worse than what he lived with now? “I have quite a bit of work to do, boy. Say what you wish to say.”

gotta raise a little hell | dionysus & hephaestus

@heart-oftheforge

It almost felt unreal that after centuries of struggling and warring and traveling, Dionysus was finally going to take his seat on Mt. Olympus. His final task before he could be initiated was that he had to travel to through Underworld and return unharmed, a task that could only be easily completed by gods, and it’d prove his status once and for all. Dionysus had never traveled to the Underworld before, but Hermes traveled there frequently, so during Dion’s journey he came across the messenger god and that’s when he heard the news of Hera’s misfortune. 

Apparently, Hephaestus had been responsible for forging new thrones for the Olympians, and he purposely tampered with Hera’s so that as soon as she sat down she’d be bound to it with no hope of release unless he was the one to free her. Dionysus took a great amount of joy knowing someone had finally done something against the Queen of the gods and his only regret was that he hadn’t been the one to do it first. The other Olympians, however, weren’t nearly as amused, but no one could convince Hephaestus to let her go. 

The only reason Dionysus even bothered to give it a try was because he knew sooner or later Zeus’s patience would run thin, and Hephaestus’ revenge would be short-lived which would too great a pity, so the vine-god found himself at the entrance of Hephaestus’s forge, a thin film of sweat coating his skin from the hot air that was blasting at him. He cleared his throat before finally calling out for his half-brother in a booming voice to make sure he’d be heard over the clanging of metal. “Hephaestus? This is Dionysus. You might have heard of me– I’m not sure if news travels down here at all– but anyway, I was wondering if you could spare a moment to speak with me?”

[heart-oftheforge-blog]

The love that Hephaestus had felt for his wife was slowly being replaced by anger, by hatred in some small way, as he could only stand at the door and stare at another child in her arms, another reminder that she would never truly be his.  

[GREEK WEEK]

“Please don’t cry, little one. Mommy is right here.”

[heart-oftheforge-blog]

He wanted to tell her there was no need to bow, no need to call him a lord. There were often times that he wanted to just be Henry, the man who enjoyed the time in his workshop, not the lord that others felt obligated to care for. But he made no attempt to tell her otherwise or correct her, not when he saw the redness of her eyes, a sure sign that something had happened to upset her. It was rare to see her in such a way, when normally there wouldn’t be even a hair out of place, not a single wrinkle in the beautiful gowns that she wore. It worried him, even more so that she might try to hide it or act as if she wasn’t hurting.

“There is nothing to apologize for, dear. Your girls said that you....they implied that you would like to be alone, and I should not have disrupted your afternoon.” But in all honesty, he couldn’t find himself apologizing for his own intrusion now. He saw that she needed someone there, perhaps not him, but someone. That was reason enough for him to stay. “I wished to see for myself that you were doing well. It has been some time since I was last able to enjoy your company, and it seems that things are taking a turn for the worst in the city.” It was hard to ignore the threats that Albion faced each day now, the distrust that people felt for those in charge of keeping them all safe. But the last thing he wished to do was worry her. 

Pushing a small smile onto his face, Henry reached out slowly to take her hand into his own, a gesture that he couldn’t be sure how she might take. It was his own small way of comfort, or an attempt at it in the very least. Something inside of the man had always tried to fix things that were broken, put them back together to make something that had been more glorious than before. He wanted to help her, but the choice wasn’t his to make. “I did not come to pry, my lady, but I feel that I must ask... Is this your doing, or did someone attempt to harm you?” He looked around the room at the mess before them. It was nothing to him, none of his business. But if someone had hurt her, or wished to, then he would make it his business. 

Pick it all up and start again || Henry & Antonia

[heart-oftheforge-blog]

The three stages of Rollo fangirling (insp.)

[heart-oftheforge-blog]

“I merely wished to see what you were going to do about this...situation.” 

“If you have come to berate me like one would a child, I am in no mood to entertain you.”