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"Athena." The voice, sweet as a siren’s song yet edged with something unfathomable, drifted through the air.
The goddess of wisdom did not reach for her spear—for wisdom tempered steel—but she remained watchful, ever the sentinel. With a sigh, weary as a warrior at dusk, she turned to face the most fearsome of the immortals.
Aphrodite.
“Would you not sit with me, grey-eyed one, and take a glass of wine?“
Athena halted, her storm-cloud gaze narrowing in puzzlement. She tilted her head, taking in the goddess before her.
Aphrodite stood in robes of unblemished white, one shoulder bare, the smooth curve of her leg glimpsed where the fabric parted. A single golden clasp held everything in place, as fragile and effortless as the love she wove into the hearts of mortals and gods alike. Her hair was unbound and cascaded like flowing honey, and her lips were curved, ever so slightly, and spoke of amusement that was not yet voiced. Her eyes, bright as polished ivory, gleamed with a knowing light.
"Aphrodite." Athena inclined her head, measured but respectful. "What brings you such mirth?"
“The day of love draws near,” Aphrodite sang, spinning like a dancer caught in the joy of her own grace. She had always been fond of dancing. She stepped closer, moving with the languid ease of a tide lapping at the shore. Her hand hovered just above Athena’s shoulder, fingers tracing the air as if brushing against something unseen. “No one but you seems unburdened on such an occasion. I should like someone to share in my delight. Is that so wrong?”
With how Aphrodite spoke, any other would have been brought to their knees. But Athena was no weakling. She was not so easily swayed by the charms that everyone else seemed to adore. Yet, for reasons unknown to her, she found herself nodding, slowly pulling off her Boeotian helmet, revealing her honey-colored hair, which had grown longer than she cared for.
“Lead the way.”
They, with steps not too fast, walked to the resting place Aphrodite called her own. At its heart stood a majestic apple tree, its trunk twisted and ancient, yet full of life. The branches reached out like welcoming arms, laden with golden apples that shimmered in the soft light filtering through the canopy. The ground beneath their feet was a blanket of white flowers, a mixture of myrtle, roses, and lilies, each delicate bloom swaying gently in the breeze. The distant sound of water trickling from a nearby stream, and Athena tried really hard to not seem impressed.
Nymphs greeted Aphrodite with laughter, placing a crown made of myrtle on her head. The laughter died down as soon as they saw Athena, for it was unusual for the goddess of wisdom to visit, but they bowed their heads eventually. Despite Athena’s unwillingness, they placed a flower crown, much like Aphrodite’s, on her head.
“Do not mind her,” Aphrodite’s voice rang through the air, rich with amusement as she seemed completely in her element. “Fetch us my wine, ask Dionysus—he will know.”
She moved gracefully toward the center of the garden, and it seemed as if every flower bloomed even more vibrantly, eager to greet their goddess. Beneath the sprawling branches of the apple tree, two stone seats rested. Aphrodite sank into one, her legs crossed, her gaze fixed on Athena, who was still taking in the beauty of the surroundings.
After a few moments, Athena settled into the second seat, her thoughts momentarily lost in the serenity of the garden.
“When this garden belonged to Ares, it wasn’t nearly as pleasant,” she remarked, a small, almost unnoticed smile tugging at her lips. “You’ve truly worked wonders with it.”
“When he first gifted it to me, I was horrified,” Aphrodite said with a casual shrug. “But I suppose even then, it had its charm.” She waved her hand slightly. “It took a lot of time, and my nymphs and I have been tending to it for some time now.”
Just then, the nymphs returned with a bottle and two glasses, setting them gently beneath the apple tree. They poured a liquid Athena had never seen before into the glasses. It shimmered a perfect blend between the delicate flush of a rose in full bloom and the molten glow of hammered copper—its color reminiscent of the blush Athena had often seen on Aphrodite’s cheeks.
“This is no ordinary wine,” Athena said, swirling the liquid in her glass, her eyes gleaming.
“Of course not,” Aphrodite replied, her smile widening. She gestured for the nymphs to leave, and they bowed, retreating quietly. Rising from her seat, she removed the golden clasp that held her robes together, her form now completely exposed to the air. “I asked Dionysus for help. I wanted to create a wine that better suited the day of love. Don’t you think it’s more romantic?”
Athena, unfazed by her nakedness, tilted her head thoughtfully. “It certainly seems…” She hesitated, trying to find the right word but then gave up with a small smile. “It certainly seems more romantic.” She observed Aphrodite’s pleased expression and added, “Why not ask for the company of my brother, though?”
Aphrodite shrugged, her voice turning casual. “Ares has duties in Sparta he can’t abandon right now. There’s some trouble within the Spartan army that he can’t ignore. He mentioned something about a potential weakening of the forces he commands there.”
“As expected,” Athena said with a faint, knowing smile. “They’re having problems. One can’t build an entire system on brute force and not expect it to fail. Why doesn’t Ithaca or Athens face such problems? Ares really should—”
“You and him, always thinking about the same things,” Aphrodite interrupted, tracing the rim of her glass before taking a sip. “Just taste my wine. You can critique my lover later.”
Athena raised an eyebrow but complied. The sparkling wine was sweet on her tongue but left a bitter aftertaste. “Be truthful with me, Aphrodite,” she said, her gaze steady. “We’re not close. So why did you ask for my company?”
“Greeks have a new saying,” Aphrodite murmured, her voice low and smooth, as she slowly took a sip of her wine, the smile on her lips both playful and knowing. “Do not question the will of the gods.”
“That’s nonsense.” Athena put her glass down, her fingers curling around the edge of the stone seat as she crossed her arms, her gaze intense. “Questions are everything.”
Silence stretched between them, heavy and thick.
Aphrodite’s soft giggle filled the air, like the sweet trill of a songbird, before she stood, every movement fluid and hypnotic. She stepped closer, her body almost gliding, the curve of her bare skin glowing in the dim light. She rested her hands on Athena’s shoulders, the heat of her touch seeping into Athena’s skin like the sun’s embrace. Her body radiated warmth, so close now that Athena could feel the pull of her presence in every nerve.
“I’ve felt lonely,” Aphrodite whispered softly, just above Athena’s ear. She leaned closer, her breath warm against her skin. Her scent—floral and intoxicating—wrapped around Athena, leaving her disoriented. Aphrodite’s nose brushed Athena’s hair, and in that brief moment, Athena saw something flicker in her eyes—a desire, a yearning—that felt all too familiar.
Aphrodite’s fingers drifted gently down Athena’s neck, her touch light, almost teasing, before settling on Athena’s cheek. She tilted her head, her body bending towards her in slow, deliberate movements, as if drawing Athena in. “I wanted you,” she whispered, her lips so close now that Athena could feel the warmth of her words. “I longed for your company. Is it so wrong?”
Athena’s breath caught, her heart hammering in her chest. Her hand, almost instinctively, covered Aphrodite’s, but the touch was hesitant. She forced herself to meet Aphrodite’s gaze, determination simmering beneath the surface. “I will not let desire consume me.”
Aphrodite leaned in even closer, her body now flush against Athena’s, her lips so near that Athena could feel the thrum of every word against her skin. “It won’t,” she breathed, her voice soft, coaxing. “It won’t.” She sighed, not leaning back yet “Can’t I get a kiss at last?”
“You know the answer to that” Athena gently grabbed her wrist, making her back away, she stood up, putting her helmet back on. With one final glance, she peered a gentle kiss on Aphrodite’s cheek and in a hurry left her garden.