The big event was held in no less than the Parthenon. It was a red carpet night for gods and royalties alike, which gave the city of Athens that uncommon din—hopefully of the good kind. Lights and music filled every street, accompanied by the mandatory dancing and wine. Even the immediate sea was lit with gatecrashers, rocking their boats harder than Poseidon's party waves.
Zeus himself kicked it up with the opening speech. "I still recall the time when Athena grew on top of my head," the godking began. "She was so tiny and adorable back then. Now she's even taller than I am—but only because she won't take that damned war helm off."
The crowd roared with laughter, including those who didn't find the quip particularly funny. It's better safe than sorry when it came to powerful beings, especially those with unstable character development, lest you find yourself on the wrong end of a thunderbolt.
Athena on the other hand, simply found it embarrassing, and she wore a very mortal blush for being called out. Of course she couldn't deny the accusation either, for in a lineup of nobles and goddesses who dressed to definitely impress, she didn't just come with the incriminating headgear, she also stuck to the shield and spear she's never seen without.
"…without further ado, all of Olympus presents its proud battle maiden, Athena!" finished Zeus, giving her daughter the stage.
The patron goddess of war and wisdom didn't drag the exposition further. She extended her gratitude to the event sponsors, as well as its keen participants; acknowledging her fellow divinities last, with special mention to the ones who came more for the pageantry. Festivities were officially launched through the intermission of the muses, whose doxology was led by the symphonic harp-play of Apollo himself.
Cue in the tale's plot device heroine.
With the rest already breathing at each other's necks, Minea chose wisely and went with a minimalist approach. She wore a plain white chiton that sported twinkling micro sequins, which Ginrius added to the cloth alongside a set of golden girdle, bracelets, and knee-high sandals. She also braided her hair to a bun atop her head, bypassing the need for a beacon circlet that attracted further attention. The idea was to blend in with the more common crowd, excusing her—a legit Olympian plus-one—to the contest of overdone everything. Out of all the attending goddesses, Aphrodite was the only one to miss out on the peplos trend, though it should be noted that her barely-there evening himaton seemed more of a planned effect than a shorthanded one.
For a while, Ginrius and Minea enjoyed each other's company exclusively, sampling everything on the tables and playing more audience than participant. So far, none of the dreaded curses and ominous caveats happened yet. Their plan to go low-key worked to an extent, but they soon would learn that nothing beautiful escaped the eye of Zeus.
They were on the garden alone, taking in the overlooking view it offered, when the king of the gods approached them. He was intimidating as usual, towering over Ginrius like an overdose of amino acids. Unlike the other male deities who remembered to be civil, he attended with nothing but loose chlamys and his best pair of bracelets. Though truth be told, he would have come as a gerbil and still manage to gain a following.
"There he is—my elusive godsmith!" Zeus all but roared. He offered the couple a drink, which they accepted gratefully. "Are you not going introducing me to the lovely lady?"
Ginrius right-out caught the eerie jock vibe. The way Zeus looked at Minea gave him every reason to build a fortress around her, but he was king, and the least he could do was be subtle about it. "To the all-knowing Zeus…? I hardly see it necessary."
The king gave him a look that shook the mood worse. He was ancient enough to know when he was being patronized and cockblocked with one stone. Feeling the tension swell, Minea knew she had to do something; otherwise, the tragic twist they feared would come crashing down their heads. "Minea, mighty Zeus," she spoke out sweetly, even bowing down. "Daughter of Aeolus to Menetas... It's quite a thrill to meet the king of the gods in person."
It was the first time Ginrius heard of her father, who she always kept in tight wraps since they were young. Because of this, he always suspected the man to be a lesser divinity, when the world's windkeeper was anything but. She was probably desperate to disperse the simmering conflict. But this was the Greek Pantheon we're talking about, specifically, beings who were above anything in that period of time, even the implications of eloping with your own kin.
"Of course, Aeolus' daughter…" Zeus acknowledged her, his electric blue eyes boring even deeper into hers.
Everyone became uneasy at this point, from Ginrius and Minea, to the people around them who felt the miasmic clash of godly machismo. Zeus didn't take being challenged lightly, and when it came to Minea, Ginrius couldn't care less who or what stood in his way.
Just when everything started swirling down the drain, Athena's intervention somehow bailed the whole world out. The rest of the pantheon probably felt most of tension. She beckoned her father to rejoin them on-stage, where the next round of the vanity fair was about commence. Hades also did the same for his son, backing him up with his and Thanatos' presence.
"Ah," the king said with a lighthearted shift in tone. "I believe it's farewell for now." He left Ginrius' party with a toast before vanishing and reappearing beside Athena, where he bathed in even more praises.
Hades then turned to question his son. "What was happening here, Ginrius?" He sounded quite concerned, more for the sake of the planet than anything.
"Why don't you ask your, brother?" Ginrius said hotly. "You can even talk about the importance of boundaries while you're at it."
The impudence struck both Hades and Thanatos like a straight arrow. But Thanatos knew drawing his scythe would be taking it too far, and Hades, well, he seemed like he understood where his son was coming from. "You shouldn't talk like that to our king," the elder god advised instead.
"As soon as he starts acting like one, sure—let's get out of here," Ginrius prompted Minea. In the background, the godking still addressed the people; something about fealty it seemed, and how it could make or break a nation. Unlike Zeus, however, this couple chose to waddle through the crowd and out of there.
When they reached Ginrius' place, the god shut every opening off, peering out just to make sure they weren't followed. Then they moved to the newly built smithy in the yard, which was sealed to restrict audience from his fellow deities.
"That was probably nothing," Minea tried to comfort Ginrius, who now paced back and forth his workshop like some simple, panicked mortal. "You're his subject and he probably just wanted to get acquainted. He's been very supportive of his kin over the years, right?"
It became obvious that Ginrius cannot be consoled, not even by the one girl who excelled at it. "That wasn't nothing," he said with matching fret. "That was Zeus—the alpha of alphas playing apex predator."
Minea grinned at him impishly, wrapping her arms around his neck in hopes of faring better. "Awww... Is someone jealous?"
"Not jealous, dear… afraid—and you should be too."