Vangelis had always been a curious child. However, the questions he asked, his parents gave no answer. His mother avoided and changed the subject while his father merely stared at him with that disapproving look that he knew was a signal that the conversation was over. He didn't ask for much, just why he appeared so different from his family. He was light haired with gray eyes while his family had dark hair. Even at the age of six he knew he didn't fit in.
His parents had told him once that he looked like an uncle from his mother's side, but he was skeptical. He had never seen this uncle and when asked about him his mother, with her frazzled brown hair and dark blue eyes, kept glancing back to his father who would quickly told him to go outside and play with his brother and he would grudgingly go. He didn't like his brother Simonides. He was three years older than him, a direct clone of his father and his favorite pastime was bullying and his favorite target was Vangelis. He and his friends would gang up on him and he would come home with many untold bruises on his body. Many times his mom would ask where they came from and he just couldn't tell her.
"I fell down amongst the rocks," he would say and leave it at that.
He couldn't say anything about his brother. Simonides was the golden boy, the one who the village boys looked up to and was the one to gain father's inheritance. Not to mention he acted like an angel at home. Vangelis mostly avoided him as much as he could, spending his time in a grove hidden behind his home. It had lush greenery and it was a place where he could be himself and relax away from his family. It was also, where he met his first God. .
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Hermes quirked an eyebrow as he observed the boy. He was behind a tree watching, carefully, his every move. He had a cut on his forehead that was bleeding in tiny, scarlet droplets and dark purple bruises covered his arms. Despite this, he didn't cry. The cold, hard and steely gaze of hatred was all he saw in the boy's eyes.
He was tough for one who barely reached Hermes's hip. Then, slowly but surely, Hermes saw one stray tear escape and trickle down his cheek. Then another and another until the child's small body trembled with his sobs. Hermes took a hesitant step towards him with the sound of Zeus's command hammering in his head. He was not to come in contact with the boy but found he could not keep his promise. He was always the softest when it came to humanity's suffering. It only made his job of escorting the dead to the Underworld and messenger that much harder.
He hovered over to Vangelis and landed in front of him. The boy's wide, gray eyes stared at him as his mouth trembled. His chin was soaked with unwiped tears. An unuttered question hung between them and Hermes decided to put himself forward first, all too aware of the boy's body stiffening as a young foal about to buck off it's rider.
"Hermes. Nice to meet you little one,"
The god sat leisurely beside him and wiped one cheek with his thumb. He really did look like Helen down to his very toes. He was a beautiful child. And he would make a gorgeous lad, Hermes thought to himself. He was glad he was given the job to watch him instead of his brother Apollo. His love for beautiful boys was his downfall and the boys' which he handed his affections.
"My name is Vangelis." he said while wiping the tears off his face with his bare arm.
"I shall take care of you from now on. This I promise you."
Vangelis shot him a doubting look and then, hesitantly, laid his head across Hermes lap. The messenger god smiled, his eyes alight with warmth and stroked the boy's blond curls, as the other sighed in contentment. They were both unaware of the dark presence watching them.
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Eris couldn't hold back her excitement. Hera's hypothesis had been correct, Hermes couldn't stay away from the boy for long. He also already seemed to have feelings for the child. Amusing, she thought, but not unexpected. He is Helen's child after all.
She wondered for a moment if she should tell Hera about this delightful new development then shook her head mirthfully. The ace was in her hands now. She would say that they met and nothing more. She wouldn't miss this chance to pull the situation in her favor and cause a little bit more chaos for her own self amusement.
Preparing to teleport away she spotted a lone figure also hiding amongst the trees. Was that, Hades? She grinned and cackled, leaving behind a cloud of smoke as she retreated back to her perch. How very interesting.
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Hades didn't know whether to curse or let out a sigh of relief that his prediction was correct. To slug his nephew for being so foolish would have been the greatest feeling in the world at that moment. He couldn't allow for himself to be seen, however, only when something went wrong. But, he couldn't shake the feeling that someone besides himself was also watching the pair with a more sinister purpose. He wondered for a moment if it was Hera; it didn't seem like her style.
She was the type to outright ruin her victims with all her might, smothering them in her rage. Herakles himself had been a poor victim to her revenge against Zeus, murdering his own family under her spell. That had been a heartbreaking day in the Tartarus and their wails still haunted him. Nay, Hera was biding her time, shackled by Zeus and probably as tired of the war between humans as they all had been. All except Aphrodite who still lamented the loss of her entertainment and her lover Ares.
He snuck towards the dark aura just in time to see Eris transport away. Now he cursed. He hadn't accounted for Hera to use Eris, the most hated goddess besides Aphrodite. Then again, he hadn't accounted for it making it brilliant. He supposed that even within madness there was intelligence. Hades knew he could take on Hera, but he couldn't take on Eris also. He, too, needed a partner, someone who was just as hated. Ares, he smirked. He was the brute of the gods, hot-headed and all around unpleasant to be around. Of course, after his "scandalous" affair with Aphrodite no one really messed with him anymore. Even during the meeting he was apart from the rest, sitting there quietly steaming while the other talked around him.
With his loneliness and due to his lesser wit he would be an easy god to manipulate. He sighed heavily and glared daggers in Hermes's direction. You damned fool, he thought tiredly. You have no idea what you have started. He looked on with an inexplicable sadness washing over him.
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"Hermes..."
"Hmm?"
The day was pleasant enough, warm with a slight breeze through the dancing trees. Vangelis laid there against Hermes's side, his torso wrapped by his right arm. Many days had occurred since their first meeting and the boy had gotten used to, and grown addicted to, his presence. He would run to the forest after his breakfast and wait for the god steadfastly. He almost couldn't believe that the messenger wanted to be friends with him.
What made him so special? He pondered this question frequently through the night and instantaneously felt guilty. His father had always told him never to question a god's gift. He would stare at him with his intense black eyes whilst saying it, his lips pulled into a straight line and his hands gripping the boys shoulder's in his iron grasp. Vangelis would nod, silently agreeing as to not anger him further.
He seemed to be doing that frequently these days. It was as if he could do no right in his father's eyes. Even the most heinous of Simonides's tricks was liable to get Vangelis a beating with the rod that swung frightfully on his parent's door. Hermes's laugh, his jokes, his presence, they were his only solace in the world.
"Will you always be my friend?" he asked quietly.
Hermes was silent and inwardly cursing. Had the boy grown that attached? Have I grown that attached? The answer to both was yes. His duty was merely to watch him alone and yet, here he was, shirking his duties as the God's Messenger and being the boy's little playmate. And enjoying it all the same.
There was a purity to the boy's outright affection and he took it greedily, coveting every last hug and smile. How pathetic of him. His eyes flew down to meet the child's and he could see tears once more swimming in those expressive gray eyes of his. Like the sap he was, Hermes wiped them and pressed a kiss to Vangelis's cheek.
"Of course I shall forever be your friend. You can always count on me!"
Vangelis hugged him tighter, his smile wider than the river Styx. Hermes felt his heart constrict and glanced away towards the trees. Please forgive me Vangelis. I will do what I must to protect you.
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Hera paced back and forth, creating almost a pathway with her foot falls. Eris was late. Had something gone wrong? Was she spotted by Hermes? A dark anxiety washed over her even as the goddess in question appeared in front of her, grinning madly.
"Where have you been?" she hissed to her, eliciting an eye roll in response.
"The whole thing went on longer than expected," Eris told her casually drawing out her words.
"Well? What happened?"
"Hermes is a fool. Just as you predicted. Rejoice," Eris, however, held up a hand to stop her just as she was about to do just that," however a new person appeared that I know you will be very interested to hear about."
Hera had no time for Eris's mind games.
"Oh, and who was it? Hades?" Hera laughed bitterly. She still could not forgive the god's insolence. Who was a simple underworlder to question her, The queen of all gods!
"Exactly that," Hera paused in her laughter," I saw him appear from the corner of my eye just as I was about to head to you."
So Hades was to be her enemy? So be it. She had to hit him where it hurt him the most. An idea sprung into her mind and she turned to Eris, her smile nefarious.
"Let us give Persephone a little visit."