Aeëtes had been in turmoil ever since his earlier conversation with Hecate. He still fought with himself over the true nature of her feelings—going back and forth from believing she only wanted to sleep with him to believing that her eyes gave her away. Those eyes, blue as the sea and the sky he loved, that betrayed her conflicting feelings for him. She wanted him, wanted more, but something was holding her back. Every time he managed to convince himself of that, his insecurities would crash over his brain like a tidal wave, attempting to drown him in the idea that he was unworthy as both a man and a demi-god. He brushed those thoughts aside as best as he could, returning to the deck and his friends amongst the crew, joining them in their chores to distract himself from his mind.
It was midday by the time that Aeëtes saw Hecate again as the door to the galley was thrown open and out she stormed, her face contorted in annoyance. Aeëtes felt a chill go down his spine at the same time his stomach flipped. He was feeling an irrational amount of attraction towards Hecate, no matter her mood. He was standing near Pelias at the mast, talking about nothing of importance while the crew kept the ship on course to Colchis.
Aeëtes raised a brow as she walked towards them, her shoulders back and her head held high; she looked every bit the proud goddess that she was. Hecate, in turn, got an eyeful of Aeëtes, shirtless and sweaty from a morning’s worth of labor on deck. She felt her body flush hot at the sight. She only allowed herself the slightest of distractions before the annoyance settled back on her face.
“Something bothering you?” Aeëtes couldn’t help but bite back a grin at her expression, finding it equally endearing and terrifying.
“He’s about to be,” Hecate snapped, crossing her arms over her chest. Aeëtes’s brow furrowed as he processed her words.
“What does that—”
“If it isn’t my Venomous Virgin, the Mother of madness, the Crone of corruptness…”
Aeëtes’s question was cut off by a loud voice that seemed to echo from everywhere around them. There was a flash, and before Aeëtes could blink, Hermes was standing in front of them. The god was dressed in a gleaming white tunic with golden curls hanging down his face and infamous gold sandals tied to his feet.
Pelias’s eyes got wide, and the rest of the crew stopped what they were doing, staring at the god. Hermes glanced around and held his hands up in mock surrender, a smirk on his face.
“Alright, alright, back to your posts or your…ship duties. Whatever it is that you all do around here.” He gave a little wave and most of the men scattered, not wanting to defy a god even in the slightest of ways. Hermes turned to Pelias, Aeëtes, and Hecate, the latter of whom was glaring at him.
“I should’ve known not to tell you where I was going,” she deadpanned although there was the smallest glint of humor in her eyes. Aeëtes turned to look at her, noticing it and feeling something akin to jealously settle in his chest.
“You know that I could find you anywhere, regardless.” Hermes shrugged, crossing the distance between them and pulling her into a tight hug.
Aeëtes braced himself for Hecate’s inevitable rage, but only felt the ball of envy in his body begin to spin as she accepted the gesture. Pelias turned to look at Aeëtes, as if he could sense this, and tried to lighten the mood. Pelias did not know Hermes, and broadly, he wasn’t very devout.
“Aeëtes,” Pelias grinned, “do you want to tell me how I’ve ended up on a ship with both HecateandHermes?” Hermes overheard this and pulled away from Hecate, his face full of mischief. Aeëtes couldn’t help but feel himself soften slightly towards the god. Anyone who always looked ready to cause a little bit of healthy chaos, as he called it, was inevitably a friend to him.
“You should be so lucky.” Hermes winked, causing Pelias to pale slightly and nod his head rapidly. Hecate burst out into laughter—a sound that made Aeëtes want to bottle it up and drink it—as she shook her head in Hermes’s direction.
“Don’t you dare frighten this poor man. Pelias, listen to me, Hermes is about as dangerous as a flea. Annoying, yes, but hardly deadly.”
“Ha!” Hermes tsked. “She only says that because I censor my stories. I wouldn’t want a lady hearing about my great and terrible gruesomeness.”
“You say that like you’ve ever treated me like a lady, Hermes.” Hecate rolled her eyes. “Speaking of stories, however, you best tell us why you’re here.”
“Again, you wound me! How come you always assume that I have some sort of perilous update? A dreadful bulletin, a development of the cruelest—”
“You are the bloody messenger god,” Hecate grit her teeth, “and you are getting on my nerves in record time.”
Hermes only laughed in response. Aeëtes was transfixed by the dynamic between them. It wasn’t flirty although everything that Hermes did or said could be perceived as flirting, but there was an underlying…companionshipthere, a familiarity. It made Aeëtes want to shove Hermes off the deck of the ship without his fancy sandals and see how fast he’d sink.
Whoa there.Aeëtes stopped his own thoughts.That’s a bit much. I’m not jealous. I just don’t trust the gods. Anyone could be working for Hera. Yeah, that’s it. He might be working for Hera.Aeëtes shook his head to clear it and focused back on the conversation happening in front of him.
“Well,” Hermes grinned, leaning towards the group with a conspiratorial look on his face, “no one is shocked, but word of Hera’s skirmish with you has reached Mt. Olympus. She has asked for Zeus to take her side.”
Pelias and Aeëtes paled at the news, thinking that this spelled certain doom.
“What does that mean?!” Pelias nearly yelped, but Hecate simply scoffed at the news.
“Ha! How did that go for Hera? Zeus doesn’t want anything to do with her beyond distracting her from his affairs.”
“Exactly.” Hermes snapped his fingers. “Zeus is refusing to engage with her, claiming that she needs to stop her whining. I guess he’s still licking his wounds a little bit and doesn’t feel like getting involved in another god’s businesses.”
Hermes chuckled, and Hecate couldn’t help but crack a small smile. Aeëtes and Pelias realized that there was a joke there that they didn’t understand; they wouldn’t have understood, the mortal realm only hearing stories of Zeus’s victories over the titans, not of Nyx and Erebus’s involvement.
“That won’t last,” Hecate noted. “He’ll be back to his tricks soon enough, but at least that means it’s only Hera after us for now.”
“For now,” Hermes agreed. “She’s causing quite a racket, so who’s to say who will join her cause simply to shut her up.”
