Psyche

Chapter 4

Eros and Hermes went way back - in fact, Hermes had been friends with Eros before taking up with his mother. Years previously they had met when Hermes decided he wanted Persephone to fall in love with him, but Eros had refused to shoot her with an arrow because his Aunt Demeter wanted the nymph to remain a perpetual virgin. Eros had taken Hermes to a mortal tavern and gotten him drunk on a mortal drink that had rivaled anything on Olympus.

The tavern was rowdy, somewhere on the edge of the Mediterranean Sea. Greeks, Egyptians, Atlanteans all mingled with sailors and pirates from as far away as the Norseland, China, and Ethiopia. The loud music, loose women and gambling had made Hermes feel a bit better, but the drink made him feel a whole lot better.

"What's the stuff called again?" he asked Eros.

"Beer," replied Eros, downing his third beer. One of the great benefits of being immortal was a high tolerance.

"The Egyptians invented this stuff? Dammit, I should spend more time with Isis. She's been holding out on me," replied Hermes as he downed his own.

"There's all different varieties, depending on the hops and brew methods. The mortals consider its creation an art form, and I have to say I agree," replied Eros. After a pause, Eros continued. "Look man, I'm sorry about Persephone, but really and truly she's not worth the trouble. Demeter won't look kindly on anyone who hits that, and I know she seems docile compared to my mother, but Demeter is far worse to tangle with. It's never about her, it's always about protecting her children - and she's ferocious about it. Whoever is unlucky enough to deflower Persephone will have a maelstrom of trouble to deal with.

Hermes sighed, "You know, for the God of Passion... not to mention sex, you're not very romantic," said Hermes into his beer.

"I have to maintain a professional detachment," laughed Eros."The sex part is fine. I enjoy that, but I'll never shoot myself with one of my own arrows. Not ever gonna happen."

Hermes, who had been shot by Eros more than once, shook his head.

"You're missing out, man," he said. "Really. And you know better than I that the effects of the arrow will wear off if the relationship isn't cultivated. It's not a permanent thing. You ought to try it."

"Nope. I've seen too many people make idiots of themselves. Not going there, but I'll tell you what," said Eros. "Pick any one of the mortal women in this bar. I'll shoot her and you can have a mad, passionate and doomed affair with a mortal that will make you forget all about everyone's favorite forest nymph."

Hermes looked around the bar, and he spied a tall, statuesque woman with dark skin whom he guessed came from Ethiopia. The woman had a bone structure that would rival any of the goddesses of Mt. Olympus, and she looked well-armed, too. The latter bit was important since any respectable woman entering this establishment would have to have a deadly weapon and know how to use it. This woman had a bow and arrow, a bit of ironic synergy that sealed the deal in Hermes's mind.

He pointed to her.

"I want that one to fall in love with me. And shoot me, too. I want this to be the real deal."

Eros craned his neck to look over at the woman, who by now had noticed the two pre-naturally handsome young men who were checking her out. She raised her drink to the two of them and winked.

"She's not a prostitute," said Eros."I've learned to tell. She's just a tough lady who likes a beer now and then. Good choice. Are you sure you want to be shot as well? That's going to make things more intense."

Hermes nodded. Love affairs with mortals always ended badly, owing to the fact that their youth was so short, their beauty faded so quickly and they eventually died. But that was what made the affairs so potent and beautiful.

"All right man," replied Eros. "I'm going to go out back and get all invisible so I can shoot you both. Hang tight."

Hermes nodded, eyes still trained on the mortal beauty.

Not only had the affair with the mortal been wonderful, and something that Hermes would remember for eternity, Eros had proved completely correct in his assessment of the Persephone situation. Demeter had been weirdly obsessed with keeping her daughter a virgin, something which was an absurd waste and proved a fiasco when Hades, not even caring whether or not Persephone loved him had abducted the nymph without even bothering to ask Eros to shoot the girl with an arrow. The big trouble that followed remained legendary among both gods and mortals, and everyone learned the valuable lesson that you don't mess with Demeter.

But, Hermes's friendship with Eros had been solidified by that series of events. Several times Hermes had accompanied Eros to his mother's palace - and often found Aphrodite fighting with her husband Hephaestus or fighting with her lover (and Eros's father) Ares or fighting with one of her many other lovers.

Hermes smiled remembering the sight.

He and Eros were snacking on some Ambrosia, watching images of various couples Eros was considering shooting with his arrows in the great mirror. They laughed, drank wine, and tried to come up with the most absurd romantic pairing off they could imagine. A greedy woman with a poor man; a vain man with an ugly woman; a big burly soldier with his best comrade! Hermes liked nothing better than to convince Eros to get creative with his targeting.

The two friends were laughing about the possibility of pairing off the King of Sparta with a tavern wench when suddenly, Ares, God of War burst into the room. He was naked.

"Damn her to hell!" bellowed the god.

Eros barely reacted to the sight of his father bounding through the room, free a bird as it were.

"Come back here you pathetic swine. You're lower than a swine...you are lower than a mortal. And a lousier lay," shouted a rich and resonant feminine voice.

Soon, Eros's mother appeared in the living room. She too was naked, but her long, cascading hair covered her body just enough to lend some sensual mystery to the sight of her.

Hermes gasped. He was a god, and he had seen much beauty in immortals as well as mortals. He had even seen her from afar many times on Mt. Olympus, but this was entirely different. Her beauty could consume a god's soul, let alone a mortal. He was certain she would blind a mortal. She was that beautiful. His mouth dropped and he looked her up and down appreciatively.

"Oh man," said Eros, "Don't even think it. That's my mother. And she's trouble. Really. I should know. The woman gave birth to me."

"Who are you Oedipus? Because unless your Oedipus, you can't possibly know what I'm thinking!"

Hermes winced.

Dammit, that probably wasn't the best thing to bring up, he thought. Eros was very sensitive about the Oedipus incident.

"That was a mistake," said Eros icily. "I didn't know she was his mother. I can't keep track of which babies left on cliffs to starve get rescued and then come back and kill their fathers. I thought I was doing the right thing. I thought if the Queen fell in love with the young conquerer it would bring peace...and I was right. I was totally and completely right. I didn't even know about the damn prophecy. Really I didn't. I was a victim of fate. That's all I'm saying."

Hermes popped a piece of ambrosia in his mouth, letting the fruit melt pleasantly.

"Seriously," he said. "I know it wasn't your fault, friend. You were manipulated. It was all in that damn prophecy. You were a pawn."

Aphrodite had stopped chasing after Ares and instead sauntered over to the table and poured herself a glass of wine, which she demurely began to sip.

She looked Hermes up and down, and Eros rolled his eyes before giving his friend an "I'm warning you don't go there, look.". Hermes ignored that. He knew what he wanted, and he knew it would be trouble. Absolutely beautiful trouble.

"It's a very fine vintage," said Aphrodite to Hermes.

"Thanks," he replied with a grin, "Some of my monks grow the grapes in Macedonia. I'll see to it some of them take a few jugs to your temple there as an offering."

"That's very generous of you," she said with a smile, "and by the way, I prefer the younger vintages."

Hermes smiled, and he ignored Eros's supremely annoyed expression.