Divine Intervention | By : LuckyPanda13 Category: S through Z > Troy Views: 3177 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: I do not own Troy or the Odyssey, nor any character from such, and I make no money from this story. |
I really hate being right. First, Megara had come crying to me to save her first boyfriend and I warned her that the guy was a trap and would dump her in a heartbeat. Then, she fell head over heels for that dumb shmuck, Heracles. She married him, completely ignoring my advice (“He would never do anything to hurt me”; “He’s a guy”), and, lo and behold, Hera decided to mess with Zeus’ bastard offspring yet again! Megara cried hysterically when she saw Heracles slaughter her four sons, Therimachus, Creontiades, Ophitus, and Deicoon (all of which were adorable), and then he turned his fury on her. When she arrived across the river Styx, I couldn’t even say “I told you so” because she was so lost. It took all four of her sons and another generation before she got out of her depression (and she was the only reason I allowed Heracles to take Cerby for a walk). And, by that point, I was tired of being right.
Megara was only the latest in the series of women I tried to help avoid heartbreak (I’m a softie, so sue me).
Unfortunately, my status as God of the Underworld did nothing to get people to believe me about the evil acts their lovers would perform. Even Persephone, my supposed wife, basically ignored me unless some moron managed to twist her heart around their finger. She would do anything to help the poor souls of the Underworld. And even then, half of the year she was gone, spending time with her mother. Demeter had always hated me and when I kidnapped Persephone (long story short: there was a man who was planning on raping her and I saved her from that fate; it’s not my fault she ate food from the Underworld) that hatred manifested into pure loathing. I didn’t even know how I ended up married to the twittering idiot that was Persephone, but Zeus refused to budge on the rules of the Underworld, so I was stuck with her six months out of the year anyway.
Never mind the fact that I’m gay.
That was part of the reason I didn’t get along so great with the other gods. They weren’t homophobic, per se, they just didn’t understand that women didn’t hold any appeal for me at all (most of them were bisexual). I am, by far, the most (I don’t want to say disliked) unpopular god, by both humanity and my siblings. With the exceptions of Hera (hated Zeus far more than she could ever hate me), Athena (was always more intelligent and forward-thinking than the others), Aphrodite (could appreciate good-looking guys just like I can), and Hermes (who didn’t really hate anyone). I find it annoyingly frustrating how easily everyone could overlook the unfaithfulness and whorish nature of the “Father of the Gods and men” while I was disliked simply for having a finer appreciation for men. And the fact that I was never on Olympus didn’t help my popularity any. I had to deal with all of the dead souls and that took some skill and responsibility, so I didn’t get to spend much time with my family. Black sheep. That’s me.
So, when the Trojan War rolled around, I avoided the debacle altogether. Or tried to, rather.
It all started one day at the wedding of Peleus and Thetis (who both Zeus and Poseidon had a hard-on for) when Eris somehow didn’t get invited. I was really glad I wasn’t in charge of the whole thing so that way she wouldn’t take it out on me. As it happened, she chucked a golden apple on the table that had the words “for the fairest” inscribed on it. So, obviously, Hera, Athena, and Aphrodite all reached for the damn apple. And, of course, they argued over it. And, of course, they went to Zeus to make a decision. I was very glad I didn’t have to be the judge for that contest (though all three asked me later what my opinion was and that was a sucky afternoon in the Underworld) and Zeus had Hermes get Paris, a Trojan prince, to be the judge. I didn’t envy the poor bastard at all. It was probably the one smart decision Zeus ever made, though.
And Paris the pussy (as I had taken to calling him, but not in front of my niece) chose Aphrodite because she promised him the most beautiful woman in all the land. Never mind that most of the male gods doubted if the little princeling could even get it up.
Long story short, Helen of Sparta and Paris (the pussy) fell in love and started the Trojan War. All because the pussy wasn’t smart enough to not think with his dick (it was heavily debated whether or not he even had one).
While my siblings were picking sides and betting on who would win what, I sat back and watched (and laughed). My excuse was that they would all end up under my rule eventually (hello, Lord of the Underworld, people). Aphrodite, predictably, was all for the Trojans while both Hera and Athena were vehemently against them (even though Troy was a city built for Athena). Athena had chosen a Greek as her favorite for his intelligence and ingenuity. She had pointed out to me the man who had literally just become a father trying to avoid the conflict of the war altogether. I found myself grudgingly liking the young Odysseus (who happened to be the great grandchild of Hermes, which was likely where he got his trickery from), simply because he would rather stay at home with a happy family than go to war for glory. He was much better than the arrogant Achilles Hera favored or the annoyingly prissy Paris (the pussy) Aphrodite favored, though I did feel sorry for Apollo’s favorite, Paris’ older brother, Hector (who appeared to be the only other person besides Odysseus with any sort of sense).
Based upon my past experiences dealing with men, I was understandably upset when the Greek started appearing in my dreams. Especially when those dreams inevitably ended with an erection.
The long ten years of war were hilarious from the viewpoint of the gods, as I watched my family bicker over the tiniest things about the war, but always, I kept one eye on the witty and intelligent Odysseus. Athena favored him for his intelligence, and Hermes for his tricks, but I couldn’t help myself from finding the man attractive for all his qualities. There was a significant moment in the war when Patroclus was almost killed by Hector, which would have royally fucked over all the Trojans, but Hector saw through Patroclus’ deception (okay, so I bribed Apollo into granting Hector a moment of clarity right before the final blow in case the Trojan decided not to kill a young Greek idiot, which lo and behold, I was right and Achilles didn’t go batshit on a killing spree).
I had watched how Hector and Achilles both longed for each other and decided something had to give. I had managed to sneak into the Greek camps and have a little chat with Achilles about both the war and Hector, finally convincing the man to pursue Hector. And I didn’t get caught, so I wasn’t yelled at for meddling. When the war was finally over (ended in a truce led by the new lovers Hector and Achilles, which made me laugh hysterically), and Odysseus set upon the path home, I felt sad (almost). It was what the man had wanted all along, so I couldn’t begrudge him that.
“What a shame it’ll take him another ten years before he can go home.” Athena said, sitting next to me as we watched the man finish the prayers and sacrifices he sent to the twelve Olympians. I, for my part, was happily humbled that the king didn’t forget me as part of his sacrifices.
“What do you mean?” I asked. Neither of us had foresight, but Apollo liked to talk. Especially when drunk. As such, Dionysus knew a hell of a lot more about the future than anyone was really comfortable with him knowing.
“An old prophecy of Apollo’s.” Athena sighed. “The Trojan War would take ten years, but Odysseus wouldn’t return to Ithaca for twenty. That was why he was so desperate to stay in the first place.”
“That’s sad.” I sighed. “What’s going to happen to him?”
“Apollo wasn’t forthcoming with the details. Don’t worry.” Athena smiled at me. “I’m going to take care of him and his family.”
“I would, too, if I hadn’t promised to stay unbiased in all this mess.” I admitted.
“You like my Greek champion?” Athena was surprised but ecstatic. She was well-aware of how unhappy my “marriage” to Persephone was. None of the gods really considered it a true marriage, considering we never spent any time together and she had never been bedded. Also, I’m obviously gay.
“He’s intriguing.” I allowed, knowing better than to let the goddess aware of my little (HUGE) crush on the king.
“Ah.” Athena leaned back, eyeing me speculatively. “So, you have a crush on him.”
“No!” Never mind that I’m not a very good liar.
“You do!” Athena clapped delightedly. “That’s exciting! Odysseus is a great guy!”
“Uh-huh.” I quirked my eyebrow up, my typical sardonic expression. “And Oedipus didn’t fuck his mother.”
“Hades…” Athena gave me a sour look. “Don’t be crude because you like a mortal. Most of us, if you haven’t figured that much out, tend to go for the mortals.”
“No kidding.” I rolled my eyes. “And who is Zeus fucking tonight?”
“Hades.” Athena grabbed my ear and twisted.
“Ow!” I flailed about, hoping that she would release my ear from the painful imprisonment.
“But, he’s a mortal, which means he’s going to die.” Athena pointed out.
“Yeah, like that’s a deal-breaker.” I snorted. “I’m Lord of the Dead!”
“I don’t want you to have to settle for a guy who’s only going to die on you.” Athena said, finally releasing my ear. “Besides, Odysseus has a family to think about.”
“Yeah, and gods help him from ever having to deal with our family.” I muttered. The full effect of my words hit me. “Wait a second…”
“My point is: he’s not going to want to leave his family.” Athena said, ignoring me.
“Yes, I know.” I frowned. “Leave me alone to wallow in misery.”
“You’re not going to go kidnap him, too?” Athena teased.
“First of all, you know I only kidnapped Persephone because she was going to get raped. Secondly, that is the last time I help out our family for anything. Thirdly, no.” I frowned at my niece.
“You two would be cute together.” Athena grinned, looking back at the man, sailing away from the shores of Troy. “You would never get anything done because you’d be too busy sassing each other.”
“Are you trying to convince me to kidnap him?” I blinked in confusion. “Because you really suck at it.”
“I want you happy, Hades. If Odysseus is your answer, I say take it.” Athena shrugged.
“I’m not going to kidnap someone I want; that’s Zeus’ gambit.” I snapped.
“Well, if you do bring him about, you could give him ambrosia to make him a god, like Psyche.” Athena pointed out. “Of course, the other gods would want to give him tasks to prove his worth.”
“I think his tasks during the Trojan War should suffice enough. And what about the next ten years?” I retorted. “But it’s all worthless thinking, Athena. Odysseus belongs with his family on Ithaca, not with me in the Underworld.”
“Well, you deserve someone. You shouldn’t stay alone the rest of eternity.”
“Who’s staying alone the rest of eternity?” Hermes plopped down on my other side, his typical shit-eating grin all over his face.
“I’m trying to talk some sense into Hades. He needs a lover.” Athena explained.
“Odysseus would work.” Hermes suggested, pointing at the king’s boat as it cut through the Mediterranean Sea. “He’s significantly more intelligent than Persephone. She’s dumber than a rock.”
“Hermes!” Demeter’s angry voice cut through his words and Hermes sprinted off, avoiding the angry Earth goddess as she chased after him. Athena chuckled at the display.
“Think about it, uncle.” She got up and squeezed my shoulder gently before going to make her peace with Ares, who was still sore about getting a boulder to the face. I watched Odysseus’ boat for a while longer before going back to the Underworld.
I was a little sad not being able watch his ten-year excursion in the attempt to get home. Granted, the news of his journey was still brought to me from time to time. Poseidon took an extreme turnabout on his position on Odysseus. Where he once praised the ingenuity of the king, he now cursed the mortal’s name with every breath. Simply because he blinded Polyphemus. Well, Poseidon was always picky about what happened to his children. Frankly, the cyclops tried to kill him first, so I say it was fair game. Poseidon doesn’t see it that way, though.
Athena still chuckles about it.
It was two years later when my niece hurried into my domain, happy as a clam. She had been bothering me incessantly with the details of Odysseus’ journey and trying to get me to kidnap him. I don’t know why she bothered. If I did, she might have gotten offended that I kidnapped her fucking champion. All the gods were fickle friends like that. Except maybe Hera. One could always count on her to hate Zeus. It was a miracle she even put up with half the Olympians, considering they were all sires of Zeus, but from varying mothers.
“He’s coming to the Underworld!” She grinned.
“Who is?” I asked.
“Odysseus!” She gave me a look. “Aren’t you going to welcome him?”
“Why should I?” I asked. “He should be dead if he’s coming here.”
“He’s coming here to speak with Tiresias!” Athena was getting aggravated with me. “You should talk to him!”
“And say what?” I blinked. “Hi there, friend! I’m the god of the Underworld! Nice to meet you! Don’t worry, I won’t kill you because I have a major hard-on for you!”
“You have a hard-on for him?” Athena gasped.
“No!” I immediately backtracked, wishing that I could eat my words. “I was just being facetious and a smart-ass.”
“You do!” Athena grinned. “You should talk to him!”
“No!” I felt the sensation of someone calling for the dead, begging to speak to them. I sighed heavily and shut my eyes.
“He’s here, isn’t he?” My niece whispered.
“He’s calling for the dead. I believe he’s going to find the stupid Elpenor first. The moron broke his neck falling off Circe’s house.” I sighed.
“Where is he?” Athena asked. I opened my eyes.
“I’m not telling you.”
“Uncle!”
“Elpenor!” Odysseus’ voice echoed through my chamber, the way all the voices of the living did. Athena turned her head to the echo’s origin before settling her grin on me. She dragged me along behind her, me digging my feet in every step of the way. It took her way too short a time to find the mortal where he stood, talking to the various ghosts that came to his call.
Odysseus had just started panicking from the ghosts surrounding him and trying to speak to him, which was enough to make any man lose his sanity, when Athena shoved me from the shadows, scattering the ghosts around me. They knew their master and silenced when I was around, out of respect. Because of that, the Underworld was generally a silent place for me. I could hear the echoes of their lives as they replayed scenes over and over, either out of necessity as it was their punishment, or out of want for better, like Megara reliving the happy days of her marriage, but they didn’t tend to actually interact with me.
When I looked up, green piercing eyes were focused entirely on me, and I knew what the king was seeing.
Pale skin (it was golden once upon a time, but the Underworld had an unsurprising lack of sunlight, which was probably healthier anyway) with pitch black hair that fell in thick curls down my neck that was tied back with a blue ribbon (shut up, Aphrodite gave it to me). Cobalt blue eyes over an angular face with a black goatee. A bored, almost petulant, expression on my face. I was pretty positive I had a blush on my features because of Athena. I wore a simple cloth wrapped around my hips, exposing far more pale skin than was probably wise (I could blind an army if the sun hit me right).
As far as Odysseus was concerned, I was likely the most beautiful being he had found on his journeys (I’m not egocentric, I’m a god). Even Circe and the Sirens couldn’t compete with the beauty of the Olympians. Something about the ambrosia made us better looking, I guess. I was the odd Olympian who wasn’t golden skinned, but Aphrodite claimed I looked better pale.
“King of Ithaca.” I managed to get the words out without stuttering. As far as mortals were concerned, the man was practically a god in looks (well, except for the whole living at sea for years thing). He had curly hair of beaten gold that was tangled in a mess from long years at sea and a thick nest of a beard. His eyes were emerald green and perfect. He was golden brown from the sun and wore the rags that were more efficient on a ship than armor or finery.
“Who are you?” Odysseus asked, eyes narrowing as he tried to figure it out for himself.
So, this is the companion to my other fic Divine Inspiration, in which you get all the details of the Trojan War which I glossed over here. This was actually the one I started writing first and when I wrote that bit in about Apollo granting Hector a moment of clarity and Hades sneaking into the camps to talk with Achilles, I got inspired to write Divine Inspiration. I decided to post that before this one because chronologically speaking, it takes place before this one. Also, it gave me some funny things for Odysseus to snark about. Hades came from a discussion I had with my wifey regarding how he's the sassiest of all the gods and gets a bad rep for NO reason, considering he does basically nothing to anyone in all of Greek mythology. Anyway, I hope you enjoy! I’ll try to update this fairly regularly.
Thanks for reading!
~LP
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