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July is Flash Fiction Month! I’ll be sharing short short stories here through the month of July. More notes can be found at the end of this story.
“You know you are not to come in here.” The blacksmith set his hammer down on his anvil. His dark eyes glowed in the firelight of the forge.
“You humiliated me.” Tears streaked down Aphrodite’s face. Even in a fury, the goddess remained beautiful. It was the beauty of an erupting volcano, spewing vermillion and gold lava and flames in a display that even the gods would envy. Her anger was heart-stopping, breathtaking, and dangerous to all who stood in its path.
“You have humiliated me many times before, my beauty,” Hephaestus replied in his gravelly voice. “I have been faithful to you. All I asked is that you extend me the same courtesy.”
“Because no one else would have you!” Even Aphrodite’s angry shriek was strangely beautiful, like a high-pitched note sung exactly right. “Your own mother was disgusted by you!”
The flames erupted around the mismatched pair, turning the air around them molten. Sparks leapt and caught on Aphrodite’s gown, so sheer that Hephaestus could see her unblemished skin. Skin that he so longed to touch, but she never let his coarse, dirty hands near her. That only enraged him more, knowing how freely she gave herself to Ares whenever she wished it.
Aphrodite batted at the flames. The door to the forge opened again. A small girl, who came up no taller than Hephaestus’s knee, entered. She was pale and pure as fresh snow. She shared her mother’s opalescent eyes, but unlike Aphrodite, there was no cruelty in them.
Hephaestus closed his hand into a fist, smothering the all the flames in the forge. With some difficulty, he knelt to speak to the girl. “Harmonia, why are you here?”
“I’m sorry for interrupting your work, my Lord Hephaestus,” she said with a tiny bow. “I came to find my mother. I had a stomachache.” She rubbed her abdomen.
Hephaestus and Aphrodite’s eyes met. The child had felt their conflict. Yet, just by being here, she had begun to soothe their anger.
“Aphrodite, there’s a bin on my workbench. Will you bring it to me?”
Without a word, the goddess did so. Hephaestus offered it to Harmonia. “Look what I’ve made for you.” The girl eagerly accepted the wind-up toys and tiny automaton that danced on her hand.
Painfully, Hephaestus rose. He sank into the chair he kept beside his anvil with a relieved sigh. “She is truly your finest creation.”
Aphrodite smiled at the girl, who was utterly absorbed with a wind-up crab. “Best not let Eros hear that.” There was no place for her to sit, so she leaned against Hephaestus’s anvil. “You truly are a magnificent craftsman.”
Hephaestus grunted. “It is all I can give to Olympus. I know had you been given a choice, you would not have taken me.” He looked down at his twisted foot. “Nor would I have blamed you. This will not surprise you, but I would have chosen you every time.” He let out a short, bitter laugh. “As would any god or mortal man.”
“I cannot go against my nature anymore than you can,” Aphrodite replied.
“I will never give my approval to your meetings with Ares, but I know asking you to stop would be like asking the wind not to blow. Now that all of Olympus knows, I ask for your discretion.”
A rosy pink tinted Aphrodite’s cheeks. “You will have it, husband, as long as I have your kindness.”
“You will, my beauty.”
“Thank you.” Aphrodite took Hephaestus’s hand.
I’ve always loved Greek mythology, and Hephaestus has become one of my favorite Olympians. It’s not just because of all the cool stuff he’s made (though he’s made like 90% of important mythological artifacts), but also because he’s perpetually the underdog of the 12 Olympians, and, unlike most Greek gods, actually forgave Hera for literally throwing him off Mt. Olympus. Most Greek gods take the “You think you can weave better than me? You’re a spider now” route.
Harmonia is one of the lesser known Greek goddesses, and Ares and Aphrodite’s daughter. She is the goddess of, well, harmony, and smoothing over strife. I’m also ignoring the myth of Harmonia’s cursed necklace/cloak. I figure if all those other Greek myth retellings can mess with the original stories, so can I.
I have one more story featuring Hephaestus and Harmonia coming up sometime this month.
