Aphrodite's Predatory Glare -1-
Aphrodite's expression was that of a ferocious beast ready to devour anyone in sight. It was the kind of face that instilled sheer dread, as if a single wrong word would spell immediate doom for whoever faced her. This was a far cry from the sly Zeus, who had casually schemed to stir lust between Hebe and Heracles.
Sensing the unease, Zeus tried to speak first, but Aphrodite seized the initiative. The goddess of love and beauty bellowed in a voice that startled even the king of the gods.
"Zeus!"
"Ah, Aphrodite... your intensity is something else. W-what brings this on?"
"I have a far better idea than marrying Hebe off to Heracles."
"I-is that so?"
Zeus was certain it couldn't be anything good for him. No matter how he looked at it, her words spelled disaster. Yet he couldn't bring himself to tell the goddess of love and sexuality standing before him that he prioritized Hebe. This stunning beauty wasn't just fixated on Heracles— she was Aphrodite, the embodiment of erotic allure that drew every male god to her side. Excluding Ares, Zeus's handsome firstborn son, there were scarcely any instances where she'd actively lured a man. The last had been Adonis, whose beauty alone had enchanted both her and Kore (Persephone). Her pride as the goddess who could naturally captivate any man had been wounded once already, and now it flared fiercely. The aura she exuded was so savage it awed even the king of the gods.
"You're thinking of forging a blood tie between Heracles and Olympus, aren't you, Zeus?"
"Y-yes, that's right."
"If you're going to arrange a marriage, you'll need an exceptional goddess."
"Indeed. That's why I chose my precious daughter Hebe."
"But Hebe isn't a substitute, is she? Over there, you already have Lady Gaia and Lady Adamantia. Not to disparage Hebe at all, but sending the goddess who rules Olympus's hearth to them would surely anger the earth goddess Gaia."
"……"
Zeus was at a loss for words. It had only just happened—Gaia had stormed off in a rage, pointing out that Hebe's status fell far short of a Protogenoi like herself, mother of monsters, and invoking her authority as the family's matriarch to halt his plans. It wasn't that Zeus feared Gaia personally; as the protector of the household head, he found it exceedingly awkward to clash directly when she wielded that elder's prerogative. Even a patriarch couldn't ignore the matriarch without upsetting the balance.
"So, you must select one of Olympus's most beautiful major goddesses for the marriage proposal."
"But the remaining goddesses of Olympus are all virgin deities bound by vows. Even if I begged Styx herself, she wouldn't lightly release them from their oaths."
"Oh? What are you saying? Don't I exist—the wife whose husband has gone to the underworld?"
"Hephaestus is a god; going to the underworld doesn't mean he's dead. You're still his wife."
"But Zeus, with Hephaestus now in Hades's grasp, is there any way to bring my husband back?"
"……"
Zeus was repeatedly tongue-tied by the goddess's brazen words. Hades ruled the underworld with authority rivaling Zeus's own; mortals called him the Zeus of the underworld. His dominion there was unshakable. Once the master craftsman Hephaestus fell into his hands, it was obvious Hades wouldn't return him to Olympus. The underworld needed skilled artisans too—for the beautiful queen Persephone's jewelry, and the rare gems mined from its depths, all Hades's domain. Extracting Hephaestus from a place brimming with such treasures would be no easy feat, especially since the craftsman himself had no intention of leaving.
"I know my husband well. He won't come back from the underworld lightly."
"……So you're saying I should pair you with Heracles? We can't delay the marriage for such reasons."
"I'm not finished, Zeus. Am I not Hephaestus's silver prize?"
"You are. I chose you as a gift for Olympus's greatest artisan."
"I hear no punishment has been set yet for our husband breaking Hera's sacred marriage rites. How about making divorce from me his penalty?"
"Th-that..."
Zeus hated to admit it, but she struck at the heart of the matter. The thorniest issue between him and Hera regarding Gaia was deciding Hephaestus's punishment. They'd sent him to the underworld, but for a craftsman, a realm full of gems hardly qualified as torment. He needed a new penalty. Tartarus, the ultimate punishment, was off-limits since Gaia despised it—and it housed Adamantia's old workshop anyway. Time had slipped by without a concrete decision, and now it pressed urgently. But divorce from Aphrodite? That changed things.
"I am lawfully Hephaestus's wife, but let me be clear: I do not love my husband."
"Then what of your relationship with my son Ares?"
"I'll handle that myself. You haven't married every goddess, have you, Zeus?"
"……Very well. If I grant you divorce from my son, you'll marry Heracles?"
"Yes. He's my prey now."
"What do you mean by that?"
A woman hunting a man? Zeus had never heard such a thing in his life. In his experience, women were always the hunted, men the hunters—it was the natural order, unquestionable. But not for Aphrodite, one of Olympus's mightiest goddesses. She firmly believed she had every right to choose her mate. Though she couldn't openly defy Zeus, with Hephaestus gone, her conviction burned anew. It irked Zeus, but he had no desire to stir up trouble.
"So he asked a natural question. I will definitely marry Heracles."
"Then just have your son shoot him with arrows, and be done with it."
"How can you say something so cruel? I, the goddess of love, beauty, and sexuality—do you think I'd settle for such a simple marriage?"
"? Then what do you plan?"
"An obvious question. I'll have Heracles propose to me."
"……"
What nonsense was this? Zeus was speechless at the string of unheard-of declarations. But Aphrodite, her pride wounded by Heracles—who'd left her in debt without collecting—refused a straightforward marriage. Heracles, famed as Achaea's finest man, matched her station in her eyes, but she wouldn't let the insult slide. No matter what, she'd make him propose.
"Don't worry, Zeus. Who am I? Aphrodite, goddess of love and beauty. I'll have him wrapped around my finger for sure."
"I-is that so."
Her aura was so bold and ferocious that even with his plans in ruins, Zeus couldn't muster a rebuke. A shout at her now might unleash a barrage of Eros's love arrows, leaving him mocked by nymphs and goddesses, driven mad by Hera's restored allure, or worst, divorced—dreadful fates swirling around the sky god.
"S-so, you've decided how to proceed, Aphrodite?"
"First, I need my girdle back from Hera. I'll take my leave."
Ah, so Hera had the girdle. No wonder Zeus hadn't voluntarily left his beloved wife's bedchamber in months—he hadn't even questioned it. Hera had that power over him; it was only natural. But even as the goddess of love vanished with a swish after saying her piece, Zeus could only stand mute. Her audacity was so natural, it left no room for retort.
His plans lay in tatters, and the king of gods's belated roar shook the palace. But Aphrodite, unconcerned, had long since departed with light, dancing steps toward Hera to reclaim her girdle.