Fireside

Aphrodite

Disclaimer

This chapter contains paragraphs that allude to intimacy and act almost like love scenes. I tried to make them as non-explicit as I could, but we are talking about the goddess of love and lust here. If you feel that such scenes may make you uncomfortable, you are allowed to skip them or pass up this short entirely.

Aphrodite

There were many things that Aphrodite loved. She loved playing games and causing chaos as much as the next god or goddess. With her unparalleled beauty and grace, of which she was very much aware of, both were easy events to instigate. However, unlike her out-of-control lover, there were times when she herself knew that enough was enough. A dispute among the gods especially was not meant to last so agonizingly long.

It was with this thought in mind that Aphrodite came to the source of the current unrest in Olympus.

She loved her aunt well enough, without the romantic flair that she did her lovers of course, so coming to her and complaining about the current state of affairs was just as hard on herself. However, if she wanted Ares back in her bed instead of running off to decapitate the next person, then she had no choice but to force the hearth goddess to take action.

Hestia must have known her intentions too, for the goddess was standing ready at one of her arched windows by the time she arrived.

"I believe you have something to say to me, Aphrodite," the hearth goddess said, hands clasped primly in front.

They were different in that way, Aphrodite surmised. Where Hestia made it a point to not draw attention to herself—putting her duties and powers before mortals and immortals alike so they could gawk and marvel at those instead—the goddess of love and passion much preferred to be the talk of the town. She even made sure to wear the most comely, provocative pieces in her wardrobe just so all eyes remained glued on her. Part of it was necessity of course, for one of her duties was to rally carnal desire in the hearts of men, but the bonus of feeling confident and beautiful with fulfilling such a duty was not unwelcome. Her favorite paramour was especially good at making her feel those things, as well as other sensations like excitement and pleasure once they managed to make it beneath her sheets.

But speaking of paramours...

"Your lover is out of control, Aunt Hessy." Aphrodite stepped forward, her long, lustrous golden hair swaying as she moved. The translucent chiton she had donned clung to her body like a second skin, hiding very little of her figure beneath. It was the least scandalous of her garments, but the bright flames of the hearth weren't doing it any favors. "Poseidon has been bringing one battle after another to the gates of Ares. I can barely spend time with him, let alone taste his lips, for in the next instant he jumps at the opportunity to maim my father's minions."

Hestia breathed sharply at the mention of the sea god's name, and it was plain as day to Aphrodite that there was still some affection there. If her aunt were any other goddess, she would have jumped at the first opportunity to cast an enchantment and bring the two deities back together. But Hestia was not any other goddess, and Aphrodite was reluctant to make an enemy of the only woman who could look at her without rage or envy. "He's not my lover anymore, Ditee, not after I chose to live by the rules of the hearth."

"He acts like he is." Aphrodite approached her aunt's kline and elegantly draped herself atop the bedding. The move was second nature by now, her position so well-practiced that any man within a hundred pygons would have easily run to where she reposed and shamelessly laid himself atop her. Fortunately, there were no lusty men around, and they could thus continue with their conversation. "With Ares having switched his allegiances, Poseidon is now more than confident that he can take the throne from Zeus, something which we both know will never happen, and all because of love for you."