will-you-hunt

[will-you-hunt]

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Will sat outside his small home, perched upon a wood stump like a thinker of old, curled within himself as his chin rested against his knuckles. Events had worn harshly against his face, lines of worry spreading across his handsome features like wildfire. Each day questioned his loyalties more and he slowly found himself adrift, not sure when the next bounty would arrive, calling for another’s head.

His deep thoughts were cut through by footsteps, the hunter gazing slowly over his shoulder. “Can I help you?”

[will-you-hunt]

How could this happen? How had things spiralled so out of control? He could barely believe it all. Like sand through finger tips, it had all gathered at the bottom and the pile was toppling. William felt like he was being swept up by a wave of change that made so little sense and it made him question the side he'd left his sword on. But the thing that had most stuck in his mind, was the small red head who had wormed through his thoughts through the chaos. His fiancée who he couldn't quite remember since his fall, the girl whose eyes went through his soul, as if seeing something so old and ancient that it surpassed the age they lived in.

He had to see her. Leave the comfort of his small home with Elizabeth and be responsible. Whether they wanted or not, they were still tethered and William wanted no harm to befall her, which seemed ever more unlikely. He stood, guarded on either side by Arthur's closest, holding his breath in nerves until he heard her warm familiar words calling to him on the other side. "It's urm...it's Will."

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Helena’s heart felt heavy, like someone had stabbed it. Well, he might as well have. She had loved Arthur her whole life like a brother. She loved all her cousins because they were all she had, but what he had done know. Her stomach churned. The thought alone made her feel sick. She was feeling very distraught and she didn’t want to see anyone really. Which is why she was rather surprised to hear a knock on her bedroom door. Helena had been staring outside again, like she always did. She turned around and replied. “Yes? Who is it?”

[will-you-hunt]

One moment the world was level, beautiful, all right way up. Then it wasn’t. William wasn’t one to get queasy easily, but hanging upside down from a tree, slowly bobbing up and down towards the ground...well suffice to say it didn’t exactly make the breakfast Elizabeth cooked him sit right. He’d only been looking out for a bounty, and for a brief moment, he thought that maybe his prey had gotten the upper hand on him. 

That was until he heard a familiar voice echo out in the forest. Spinning around him the tight loop that was trapped around his ankle, the hunter couldn’t quite pull an annoyed expression - a faint smile on his lip and warmness in his eyes despite it all. He could never be too angry at Tobias. It was like being frustrated at a mole. It was part of you, as irritating as it could be, you just learnt to enjoy the look of it. “...Toby, we really need to stop meeting like this.”

Tobias looked at the person who had stepped into the trap he had set up for his target. He knew they’d be coming this way but he wasn’t expecting for someone else to walk right into it. The mere idea caused a laugh to erupt from the bounty hunter. “I think you’ve gotten yourself a little caught there.”

[will-you-hunt]

Money, money, money. It made this new world turn. Unlike those over the oceans in Britain to whom the worth of a man was through his name and family, the Americas did not care for such fancies. Whether one was the great grandson of a coal miner or a orphan child, so long as their checkbooks were brimming and their clothes run fine, they were aspiring...worthy.

Harold “Harry” Crawford was such a man. On the surface. He had the hair, the clothes, the dashing smile of a young man on the cusp of riches. He strolled along the halls of the Worthington home, not as if he was a guest, but as if it was his own home. The oozing confidence of someone whose spoon was so silver it would shine over a 100 lifetimes of a common man. It was so very humorous, the way Harry could simply say things and men...lesser men, could not find it in them to say anything otherwise. As if a good suit bought credibility.

Well it did. Harold could feel it as he slid between various faces who each claimed to be a good friend of his, some faces familiar - others alien. That’s the thing about Chicago, everyone and their dog was your best pal, until you actually needed their help. Then it was if you were asking for your weight in gold, with interest. With a swirling glass of whiskey that forever seemed to get topped up by invisible hands, he delicately balanced between conversations, never quite investing in any for too long but also making sure not to be rude. In all honesty, he as only here for one thing, and like magic, it bumped into him in a small hall way. Not that either of them had known it.

He glanced down at the small figure that bumped into his chest, raising his brow a fraction as his bright smile remained steady. That was one thing Harry never faked. His smile. The world, with all its life and colour, it made him joyous and there was nothing that could stop him putting on the wolfish smirk, not even nearly getting drink on his very expensive shirt. “Oh, it’s quite alright little bunny, I ain’t gonna eat ya for it.”

“Let me apologise too, it takes two to be blind...are you alright...Miss..?” While his voice stayed level, Harry couldn’t quite keep his eyes from wondering. She was quite the sheba that was for certain, a small petite thing with eyes that seemed to strike further than they had the right too and a dress that fit her as well as a Queen’s glove. Well, it seemed like the party got that bit more interesting.

Little Party Never Killed Nobody ~ 1920s AU

@will-you-hunt

The music was so loud that it made Rosie dizzy. That might have also been the number of glasses of champagne that she had consumed during the night. The frills of dresses and fireworks were imprinted in the insides of her eyelids. Women were giggling and chatting around her as men were smoking, dancing together. The mansion of the Worthington twins was a well known place, filled with only the elite who were allowed to party with them. Rosie’s family was known as the upcoming and most influential family of their generation. They were practically bathing in money. She remembered when they moved into the house that they live in now and all the rich friends she met later.

Rosie navigated herself through the crowd, her silver fringe brushing against her calves. The crowd was roaring as they were expressing their emotions in all exuberant ways possible. Cheering. Yelling. Screaming. Laughing. Dancing. She pushed herself through the throng of people. A lot of them smiled at her, complimented her or said something nice. Everyone wanted to be on the right side of the rich. She accidentally bumped into one of her close friends, Millie. Due to her giggles and the fact that her parents were currently experiencing difficulties, Rosie knew she was drinking a lot. Millie was clearly zozzled. “Roosannaaaaaa…” She slurred. The booze was very evident on her breath as she caught a whiff of it when she bent down to hug her. “Yooou’d never knooooow who I just ran intoooo…” Millie continued as she erupted into giggles. “It was Bernie.” She turned to her and bit her lip to keep her giggles in. “Aaaaaand-” She burped once before continuing, “He was there with your future husband.” Rosie stopped right there when she said that. Harry Crawford. The man her father had ‘given away’ to. After he came back from the war, he became even more successful than previous generations of his very rich family. She mumbled an apology to Millie who seemed far to entranced by a handsome guy next to her to notice her leave. She was feeling really nice and the idea of him alone put a damper on her mood. Rosie moved through a narrow corridor when someone accidentally bumped into her. Alcohol and bodies swayed but thankfully nothing spilled, but her heart stopped for a second. Because the hallway was so narrow, she was forced to look at the person instead of slipping away. “I’m so sorry!” She apologized profusely, looking into the pair of most beautiful eyes she had ever seen in her life. Her heart stopped now for a very different reason. “Um, I so  incredibly sorry.” Rosie muttered softly, trying to keep her eyes away from him but they kept going to his.

[will-you-hunt]

William stared between his own hand and back at Ana, not quite sure if this was another prank of hers. He’d offered it out in help, not for anything back but somehow the way the usual jovial (and mischievous) pirate normally opted to speak to him, he found himself curious as to what made her both feel like she truly could and wanting to do so with him. “I...”

“What price?”

“I could read your palm,” she paused, glancing down at their outstretched hand, “For a price.”

[will-you-hunt]

“Knowing and speaking are not the same, Lachesis, it is not easy to speak of such things and feelings are difficult to explain...and Hebe is special to me, but no, it is not the same as the kind I felt down there.” Sometimes she made it hard for Heracles. In her ignornance of the human world, her pointed words could dig deep and cut him, but as always, he spoke gently with a smile, though his eyes shone with a brief hurt before he could hide it completely.

“How so?” Heracles returned as he gazed out into the lands absent-mindedly. It felt so good. To feel the wind against his skin, the earth beneath his sandalled feat. Yet it did not feel the same. He could feel the world bending to him ever so slightly, each small way reminding him that he was a god. The gust did not make his skin cold and his hair did not move in the breeze, instead staying perfectly in place.

Of course she picked the love option, the hero expected as much, but he’d offered it and he’d honour his words. Taking her hand again, it was this time the gatekeeper who guided them. They didn’t fly, he wanted her to experience the journey fully as they trudged through the lands with little problems. Their godliness prevented them getting tired or not being able to see at night and within a few hours they were at a lake side, surrounded by a thick forest. “Here. Here is where I met her. Megara.”

[Greek Week]

“I don’t see why it should be so hard. You’ve been in it before. You say you miss it the most, surely you must know why you miss it. Is the love you feel for your wife here not the same as it was down there?” Was being a god the thing that changed what love was between the mortal and the god worlds? As always she was much too blunt with her questions, but she didn’t get to interact with others in such a relaxed setting normally. When she went to see others, they always assumed she was there on her work and they asked her as much with as much bluntness so she returned it. She’d never really needed to use manners even around Cronus or Zeus if she didn’t want to for she was more ancient than even them. That didn’t mean she didn’t try, it just meant that manners weren’t a muscle that was stretched very often.

“You don’t give me much incentive to let you win if you make answers the prize for winning,” she made a perplexed expression as his hand rested on her head. It was a strange gesture she’d seen many a father do to his child or an older brother do to his sibling. Did Heracles see her as a child? What an odd thought. Still, she felt the emptiness of where his warm hand had been when he released hers, and she missed it. It was so rare that people touched her. Being a Fate was a lonely life. So many feared her and she had such few friends. It was part of the reason why she watched the mortals. She lived through them at times. She yearned for their simplicity.

“Yes, but my desire was to see your life here. I cannot know how you lived it.” It  was a bit of a lie as she’d so often watched him, but she didn’t know where he might want to show her. “Show me where you learned to love.”

[will-you-hunt]

“Explain love? You never do give me an easy challenge.” Heracles murmured softly, resting a hand upon Lachesis head fondly. She forever questioned, like a child discovering the world for the first time. He often wondered how long she’d had these queries but no one to postulate them too, how much the fate wondered and pondered aimlessly while she held all their lives under her finger tips, all the answers and yet none of them at all. Still, it was a question a little too hard hitting for his current mood. “Perhaps if you beat me at that wrestle I will tell you...and I’ll have you know that even I sometimes enjoy the pleasure of simply winning. Not that you seem to want to give it to me and if anything, you shouldn’t underestimate me.”

He released her hand slowly as they stood upon a small hill, looking out. Not because he didn’t enjoy the sensation, the touch of someone, it made him feel human again, but he simply knew that while he never truly saw her as much, Lachesis was a powerful goddess and likely didn’t take kindly to a less god like himself taking liberties touching her, even in a friendly manner. He turned to her at the question, raising a small brow. “My trip? My dear Lachesis, this is your wish...I let you pick. How about I pick three choices and you can decide from them?”

“I can show you where I learned to cry, where I learned to love and where I learned to be a hero.”

[Greek Week]

Ah, there it was again. That word. Love. The thing that still escaped her understanding after eons of watching humans and gods alike feel it, after going to ask multiple gods of love about the very thing they held dominion over, and yet she still felt as though she didn’t understand it any better than when her quest to understand it began. She knew her older sister worried she’d fall in love with a mortal, but Lachesis didn’t see how she could possibly fall into something she didn’t understand.

“Explain it to me?” she asked him. She doubted it would do much for her understanding, but she’d never stop trying to figure out. Love was such a grand thing with such a reputation that she felt she had to know what it was. “Would you really be satisfied if I just let you loose?” she shot him a playful look. “I’m merely using all my abilities to their full potential.” She rose a brow at his suggestion of a game, “Trying to stack the odds in your favor I see. Fine. Next time we’ll play your game, but I should warn you not to underestimate me.” He might be a great hero, but she’d spent much time watching him as a human. At the very least she had a good idea of his fighting style. She could use that knowledge to her advantage.

A soft smile made it’s way to her lips at the feeling of his slight, brief pressure on her hand and she returned it. She’d always felt such a comfort around Heracles. She didn’t feel like she had to be a Fate around him. He never feared her presence or expected her to be some immovable goddess. He never frowned on the mortal tendencies she showed from years of watching the humans. He just let her be herself. As she looked out at the lands that Heracles called home, she found herself grateful that he’d want to share it with her. “Where shall we go first?” she looked up at him, so much taller and grander in stature than her. “This is your trip, you may decide what we do on it.”

[will-you-hunt]

“I speak of the act, how they looks upon the an I cannot say, but a good action is good whether or not the man seeks to be as such.” Heracles replied calmly. Often people related him to strength and physical skill, but he was more than just a warrior, he was a thinker. It was his mind, quick and cunning that allowed him to truly beat Hera’s plans. His blue eyes saw much, and danced with a deep intelligence. 

He listened, pensively staring out at the other levels of the underworld, watching old faces of his life, unaged and unperturbed, simply accepting the lot the underworld gave them. As Patroclus said, there was a peace here. Among friends and like souls. Unlike Heracles...stuck with strangers all of whom knew more of him than he could of them. Infinitely older gods who saw him as a child. “I am glad, I would hate to see my heroes in pain after all they have given to humanity.”

“May your rest be forever comfortable dear Patroclus.” The god rose, placing a gentle hand on the greek’s shoulder, the goodwill of a god seeping through the contact. It was like being blessed, a tingling sensation that spread across the whole body. “Thank you for the thoughts to digest.”

“Remember that even if your time has passed, you are still under my protection, always.”

[Greek Week]

“Is it still noble if I did not seek nobility?” He asked and considered the god’s questions. “I do enjoy it yes, it is an easier living than when I was alive, though I don’t always know if that’s a good thing.” 

He wondered if maybe the god wanted to join them, if that was why he asked because he wished to rest with the heroes rather be a god with duties. “I have found a sort of peace. I am, in a way, never dying so I do not feel the need for immortality. I do not know what I would be the god of but I do not want to spend the rest of time working, I have works enough in one mortal life and now it is time to rest.” Patroclus smiled a little, “And even better that I rest among friends.” 

[will-you-hunt]

“No the honour is mine, your tale is a noble one...and I am glad you've been honoured in Elysium. Is it nice here? In the underworld?” The place he too should lie, peacefully resting without duties to attend, having lived his life. Instead he had those below praying to him for his protection and strength. To be guided. Heracles didn't know if he had the power to give them that sort of comfort.

“Tell me...do you feel at peace here? Or do you wish you could still roam and explore as you once did? Would you wish to be godly? Never dying?”

[Greek Week]

Patroclus was surprised the man knew they story though he didn’t know why, this was the underworld, no one down here was mortal. He shook the man’s hand but he said he was Heracles himself he felt like maybe he should have bowed instead. “It is… It is an honor to meet you, I suppose that is a given though.”

[will-you-hunt]

Heracles merely nodded silently to Lachesis wise words. What was there to say? As always the older God was right. He yearned, yearned for meaning to everything. After all his mortal life had accomplished what had it all been for? He now looked back at his life as a naive hunt for a glory that meant little when you lacked someone to enjoy it with. To her question, he uttered single word, so softly that it was missable. “Love.”

To be loved and feel loved...a sensation that he'd lacked since Megara passed at Hera’s scheming hands. It still made his blood boil at times, to think he guarded his gates for a woman who'd possessed him to butcher his whole family, that now she was his mother in law. But he held the peace for Hebe. He was warmed to her, not infatuated but glad that such a mild mannered woman was his wife. He'd just wished she could have a man wild and crazy for her rather than the reality...a husband who was hers out of duty. A grin managed to break through the melancholy at Lachesis’ challenge to find something else. “I don't know why you can't graciously lose but well, we can always wrestle, I doubt your threads could help you then.” 

The goddess’ felt so tiny in his large palm and the God of heroes found himself squeezing it softly as they summoned themselves on the grounds of earth. Just the air was enough to fill him with a sense of joy. His eyes crinkled with a subdued happiness as he stared out to the fields they stood on. Even in a cloak he stood out, tall and muscular, as impressive a human specimen as when he had been mortal. The lands of Thebes stretched out far before them, great flat plains stretched out beautifully to the Great Lake Hylica in the north and surrounded otherwise by Cithaeron mountains, tall imposing peaks that provided a sense of safety to those who toiled the land. It was no great place like Athens but it was home.

“Here we are.”

[Greek Week]

She smiled at the shocked look he gave her for her observation. People often underestimated her whether it be her power as a fate, her age, or her observational skills. She’d been alive for a long time and she’d learned well how to read people from all the years she’d spent watching them. “I fear nothing. Jobs may get boring after doing them for a time, but we do them anyway. It is how we keep the world as it should be. That doesn’t mean that we don’t yearn for something else sometimes.” She shot him a small playful smile, “Godhood is not always as grand as the mortals believe them to be. What do you miss the most about your old life?”

“Oh I am well aware of the man you are just as I am very aware of your 12 labors.” A sense of knowing sparkled in her eyes. She always knew more than people expected her to. She saw much, but she knew of Heracles’ trials on a slightly different level. A slightly more personal one. Somethings she enjoyed watching up close rather than from her view up on Olympus. She’d gone in disguise to see some of Heracles’ trials herself.

“You would never ban me,” she said confidently, “You’d be bored without me. What would you do without me coming up here to keep you company, hmm?” Again, that little smile sat at the corner of her lips. “If you like, I can go back to stealing your pieces off the board before I’ve had the chance to beat you. Would that be easier on your ego?” she teased lightly. “Of course, we could always find a different game to play. Perhaps you can pick one that you think you’d be better at?”

“I can’t think of anything I’d like to do more right now.” She took his hand and whisked the two of them down to the mortal world, taking them to Heracles’ home town without needing to ask and conjuring cloaks to obscure their faces. The mortals may not be familiar with her likeness, but Heracles had been a huge name and people still might remember him as well as the stories told of him or they might recognize his likeness from a vase that had been painted in his image. “After you.”

[will-you-hunt]

“Ah...you mean Achilles? I know of you both...let us say that I have watched you many times. As I watch many heroes.” Heracles turned more fully, his blonde hair shining ethereally even in the darkness atmosphere of the under world. He reached out, offering a friendly hand to the other Greek.

“I am Heracles, God of many things...including Heroes.”

[Greek Week]

Patroclus looked up at the man, unsure how he had gotten this far from where the others usually were. He glanced back at Achilles who was resting under a tree, something he hadn’t been able to do in a long time. He looked at the man again, a god he had said. “I am Patroclus. Though I can’t say that I am a hero. I am merely bound to one.” 

[will-you-hunt]

Heracles froze at his father’s assessment. That wasn't it at all, in fact it was the opposite. He thought Hebe deserved to be picked by someone who loved her because they wanted to, not because their father had demanded it. How can love ever be honest if it came from such beginnings? The second only felt like a follow up blow, that made the hero’s insides turn a little. You never knew if Zeus was merely voicing his views or issuing an angry retort, but beyond his cunning and shrewdness, Heracles was an honest man and he followed the heart his mother gave him. “I would rather give her a chance to find her own love, father.”

“No...no...father I simply just...it was not what I had envisaged...I'm learning how to be a god that you can be proud of.” The hero bowed his head a little. He didn't hate being a god, but he just questioned whether he was worthy and more than that, if it was right. The answer still seemed far away, and he was left floundering...alone. “I'm sorry, father this...is a waste of your time.”

[Greek Week]

[will-you-hunt]

Heracles nodded solemnly at his fellow deity's astute judgement. She was right of course, he'd never been a regular person and sometimes on the long days he spent perched by the gates, he pondered on whether that had been for the better or not. Sure, his labours would never be forgotten, so impossible and heroic they were, but they were also just that - labours. Not to mention that his father had cost him the woman he had loved dearly and his children, thanks to Hera's wicked hand. Then the creatures that scorned him had tricked his other wife to kill him thus, and entrap him in a new position as God. 

Unable to break free from the new duties placed upon him. It was only her question that snapped him out of his thoughts, eyes going a little wide at the blunt nature. But that was Lachesis, she saw much and rarely kept it hidden, after a moment of silence, a smile, like that of a caring older brother replaced his surprise, and he shrugged. "It is simply a new way of living...and I appreciate parts and miss others. Never fear...I accept my duties wholeheartedly."

 "I am the man of 12 labours, I will always rise, like Atlas shrugging his shoulders." He could only hope the Titan couldn't hear them...the god hadn't been very happy after he'd tricked him into returning to his eternal burden, though in the former Demi-god's defence, he was the one fooled first. It shone through Heracles at that moment, the fire and strength that made him fit to take on even the gods. The cunning in his eyes and the sheer strength that seemed to burst through his whole being. It was a look he had worn even mortal, the man who had been a god long before bestowed the honour. 

He raised an amused brow at her play of innocence, merely giving the fate a knowing look. "Yes I do..perhaps I should ban you from enjoying the glorious of Olympus hmmm? I know you used your all seeing eye - you. Last game you were awful. Now you're winning in so few moves...it smells more than Lion dung." "Yes, I mean it. Why not? There are many others who can see to the gate for at least a little." It wasn't like he could back out now, not when she seemed so happy. "Want to see my home land?"

[Greek Week]

“You might not have been a god, but you were more than human. You were enough to become a god,” she pointed out. “There are very few who can say that of themselves.” Even now, he was more than just a god. He was caught somewhere in-between his humanity and his godliness. Perhaps that was what drew Lachesis to him. He was different. He had a humanity that she envied and wished she could take part in, yet it seemed that particular dream was something that could never be fulfilled. Instead she had no choice but to live vicariously through the humans in the mortal world and pick the brain of Heracles for answers.

She tilted her head at Herecles, looking at him questioningly. The sadness in his voice didn’t escape her. There was a longing in it that was both familiar and alien to her. “You miss it that much then…” she said softly. “Do you not wish to be among us?” The thought made Lachesis feel strangely sad. She liked Heracles. She enjoyed his presence now just as much as she had when he was a human and didn’t know her. If he were to reside in Elysium she would miss him. In all the years she’d watched the humans, he’d always been one of her favorites. “Yes…I do know that our fates are predetermined…but I also know…there are rare instances where people have been able to choose their own fates. It happens very rarely, but it does happen. Heracles, you can choose for this to be a burden to you, or you can choose to rise up and meet your circumstances. Make the most of them.” It was that tenacity about him that she admired most of all. She didn’t want to see him look so dejected.

The sight of his smile made hers brighten. “I am an accent goddess, Allotter of Fate, and you dare to accuse me of cheating?” She accused ominously, though there was a playfulness in her eyes that gave away her jest. “I merely have years and years more practice than you, give it a few centuries and maybe you won’t need quite as large of a handicap,” she chuckled before looking at him more fully at his suggestion. “You mean it? You want to go down to the mortal world?” Her smile grew at the thought. There was nothing quite like visiting the human world with someone who had actually lived there. “Where shall we visit?”

[will-you-hunt]

Heracles, great hero of humanity, god of sport, guardian of mankind, gatekeeper of Olympus, jumped out of his skin when called to by his wife. His cheeks went red as he spun from his usual spot in front of the gates. Few went out of their way to speak to him, and his union to Hebe still being fresh and recent - his wife was the last person he had expected to visit.

“I...Hebe...its just been...well I...nothing really happen, j-just a normal day.” The conqueror of 12 of the greatest labours, was brought to a bumbling mess in front of the goddess he had no clue how to handle. They hadn't even lain together more than the first time, on their wedding day, the former Demi-god preferring to focus on his work. Guarding a gate so few even reached.

“What brings you here?”

[Greek Week] And It Begins ~ Heracles & Hebe

@will-you-hunt

Hebe was walking through the gardens on Mount Olympus. She enjoyed the fresh air and the smell of the flowers around her. Her hands brushed over the bush beside her and enjoyed the breeze pulling on her red locks. Slowly, she made her way through the garden and ended up at the gates of Olympus where she found her newly wed husband. Things were still a little awkward between them but she was very fond of him, deep in her heart. “Good day, my husband, How has your day been so far?”

[will-you-hunt]

“Yes well...I do not seek to mimic my father in all things.” Heracles returned, still facing away. Perhaps such matters, love, commitment, monogamy, were silly trifling ideas for gods to really worry on, but he had not always been immortal and if he was to be joined with Hebe for as long as Olympus stood, then he'd do so as if he was just a man and she were just a woman. Foolish, yet the only way he knew how.

He hesitated before glancing up. Aphrodite wasn't known for being the most honest or straightforward of deities, so a small breath of relief left him upon seeing that she was indeed dressed. Not that the white frabric really left much to the imagination - it was very clear why so many fell upon their knees at her bedside begging for more. “Yes...I...do not understand the appetites of god’s or goddesses and I was hoping perhaps you could enlighten me on how to...”

Heracles cleared his throat trying to stand a little taller. Many men cared little for their wife’s feelings and many more god’s, but for once, he wanted a relationship that stood strong. “How to please a goddess.”

[GREEK WEEK]

[will-you-hunt]

“It is just...sudden, father. I hadn't even expected to be entom...ascended to mount Olympus and following what happened to cause my death, I had hoped for a moment of reflection. Perhaps to even find love in my own accord.” Heracles replied uneasily, his blue eyes drawing enough courage to meet Zeus’. He’d never thought he'd ever see his father in the flesh and now he had - he truly understood why so many feared him and bent knee. There was no god that possessed a sense of power and regency as the God of thunder. Sat upon his throne, no mortal King or general could ever hope to even come close.

The mention of Hebe’s own happiness, drew a heavy pang of guilt in the former Hero’s chest. He'd only seen the cupbearer a few times, and she was beautiful...but it seemed cruel to force her into this Union, especially as they both shared a father. Such things weren't odd amoung gods, but unthinkable in the lands Heracles had once called home. “Was this always your plan? To await my death and make me a god?”

[Greek Week]

[will-you-hunt]

“You make it sound like I was a god back then too, I was one of them, in my heart.” Heracles may have only ever been half human, but he never let that make him see himself as anything other than a member of a human race. His father had been this omnipresent, far away figure, a dream, it was his foster father and mother that had been his true carers when he was young, and it was from them he learnt how to feel, and be mortal. He took the seat not really surprised at the offering, Lachesis always seemed to be warm and social towards him, which initially had been rather strange since Fates were not the open sort, but he never asked her for any favours and perhaps that was the reason their relationship was less formal. 

 "Many humans hate that, they’d love life to be easier, to not be plagued and punished for other’s actions or even their own. God’s can lose their games and play others, but mortals only get one roll of the dice.“ Not that Heracles didn’t agree. Earth was so murky and strange, but it held so much possibility, there were no set rules and anything could happen. It was that core idea that allowed the most amazing art to be created and the darkest acts to be committed. It was neither perfect or an abomination, but simply was. 

 "Like a warrior misses his favoured spear. I lost a shard of myself when I was brought among the gods. The great hero Heracles is no longer alive, I merely carry a piece of his spirit.” Again the heavy somber sense of pain flittered through the blonde god’s booming voice. It was a unique cocktail, to have a timbre that was so commanding in it’s weight and yet be uttered in such hushed sorrow. “I understand your wishes though, but as you well know, ours fates are entwined around us whether we care for it or not." 

 A smile finally drew against his handsome features as she nudged him, bumping her back softly. How a goddess with such a heavy task upon her shoulders could be so light and carefree he wouldn’t know. But there was no doubt that her light often pulled him from the eternal exhaustion that his new life brought. She proved a candle in a dark cave, and he could only hope that his wife would be able to do the same. "He wonders…” “When you’re going to allow him a rematch of that chess game. I’m still on to you, I know you cheated!” He glanced back over the earth, at the rolling hills and great structures of Greece below. “Why do we not take a trip down?”

[Greek Week]

She smiled at the sound of the hero turned god’s voice. It was more familiar to her than he might know. Not only had she watched him whilst he was a human from that very perch, but every now and then she’d gone down in disguise to help him. Not that she ever planned to share that with him though. why should she? What did it matter to him? He’d finished the tasks set out for him and become a god. What did the help of one goddess mean to him? “Yes, there was a time when you walked among them, wasn’t there?” Her eyes remained on the world below, but she patted the spot next to her in offering. Even after all these years, she had a bit of a soft spot for the hero.

“But it’s so real,” she murmured. “They have choices. They make mistakes that work out or don’t.” Of course they all had fates that were meant for them in the end, she’d allotted those fates herself, but that didn’t mean they didn’t have a choice in how they met them. “It’s beautifully spontaneous. Everything up here…it gets old after a while.” She finally turned to smile at Heracles. “Do you miss it? I know there are many that would like to be in your position now.” So many humans aspired to be like the gods, to be invincible, but she saw the truth of it. She was old enough that she knew eternity and godliness wasn’t all it seemed to be.

“Why?” She let out a soft laugh, “I suppose because I envy them. They have a kind of freedom that I will never know. They’re so blissfully naive. I wouldn’t mind not having to cary the weight of allotting people’s fates for a week or even less,” she said honestly. “And you?” she bumped her shoulder with his, “What does the great Heracles ponder?”