Anansi was prowling the Olympian mountain, trying to find out what had happened between the Greeks and the Other Greeks. He knew there were two groups of them, but that's as far as his knowledge had grown. And nobody else he usually interacted with was around, or if they were around, they had no idea what was going on.

The spider made the decision to find out for himself. The best way to do that, he decided, was to go up the mountain and find somebody who'd been in the thick of it. Or at least knew somebody who had been in the thick of it. Or maybe just somebody who had heard a rumor about what had gone on. That would satisfy him.

He'd been on the mountain, actually on it, maybe once. Most of his dealings with the Greeks had gone on in other places. He'd certainly never been in the Underworld, and wasn't entirely sure that sounded like a place he wanted to go. It sounded rather gloomy. And while spiders liked the dark, they didn't particularly like rivers of pain and hate, or the idea that said rivers just flowed freely. Though, the concept of a three headed dog was rather amusing. He might have gone down there just for that.

It was bright up here. And made brighter by the fact that he was sure he wasn't supposed to be just cavorting around without permission. His pupils were wide, ready for danger. Since he knew what he was, who he was, and how very much prone to trouble he could be, he wouldn't be surprised if danger found him quickly.

"Hey." He called out to the first god he saw, who was moving fairly quickly. "Ey, c'mere."

Apate, had ended up being quite the way to spend an afternoon. Far from disappointed, Loki had left her side only to be perplexed at her reaction to what had transpired between them. That part at the end, which ran the course it was supposed to run, seemed to shock and surprise her. As if it was either alarmingly rare or something entirely new. Shame, if either was the case, but ( bravo to himself for doing one of the things he did best. )

The truth she had to reconcile was that in the end, she rather liked it. No, she wouldn't be visiting Deimos any time soon, but there were worse things that had happened to her before. Cataloging them in a bubble bath between bouts of William Blake and champagne, Tyche began to feel much, much better about the situation. She was certain she hated Deimos. She'd never, ever admit how much she'd liked it. But looking back, she had to realize as well that if she'd wanted to get herself free of him, she would have done it. And that meant a great many things, on a great many different levels. Some of those things, however, she wasn't ready to face quite yet.

But her process of working through what'd happened reminded her of another situation, not so long ago. No one would quickly forget the Keres and Moros on Olympus. But she had forgotten the aid Hermes had given her when she'd gotten herself too far into the battle to have been of any use. She'd never thanked him for that, had she? Well, that was nothing new. Though she would have liked to have been able to claim the good breeding that made women remember to thank every gentleman for any help they'd rendered, Tyche was terribly capricious. And sometimes that meant she was terribly forgetful. But that didn't mean she had to forget again about what Hermes did for her.

The day was spent finding just the right things - a basket, first. One always had to have a basket for these sorts of things. The wine was easier. Fine wine was like oxygen, and she and Nemmy had their full share (and then some) of the best wines available, but then... This was a present for a god, not for a mortal. There was very little persuasion that needed to be done at Dionysos' home; he was a generous god with his wares. Once a good bottle of red was situated perfectly in the basket, she added a pair of tickets to see the fight in two week's time in Las Vegas (and let him invite her, if he had no one else), and a set of keys to a very beautiful car that was more recreational than anything. He'd like fast cars, wouldn't he? He was such a fast god.

Finally, dressed in a tasteful cream silk number with gold embroidery, she set herself on Hermes' temple steps on Olympus and leaned her shoulder against the door. He wasn't here. She could tell he wasn't here. But he would be soon, then, wouldn't he?

"Hermes," she called. "It's Tyche. Are you free?"

Of course he was. Everyone was free, for Tyche.

He could not go to Olympus.

Well, that wasn't exactly true. He knew he had to give himself more credit. Hermes could go wherever he wished to go, but at this point his invisibility cap would be necessary for an adventure on Zeus' mountain. There wasn't much good he could do while invisible other than knock all the gods on the head and hope a spell of unconsciousness did something for everyone's common sense. Zeus' black glare had left Hermes depressed and a bit upset. While the messenger god had been more than aware of the risks he took in arranging these talks, he couldn't have anticipated such a clever double cross. Hermes had always done the right thing in the past. With the exception of his interlude with alcoholism, he'd carried his duties very well over the centuries he'd existed! Better than most, if Hermes was keeping track properly. And to see Zeus doubt him...that was why he couldn't go back. The King's confidence did not belong to him now.

( If his father wouldn't work with diplomacy, then Hermes would have to move his service to someone else... )

It had been a rage-filled king of the gods, when his son returned to him with the news. What was more foolish - war, or pursuing the course of peace without first speaking to him? The conversation had been spirited but short. Hermes seemed to think that Hades wished to... if not show a measure of humility, at least apologize for those transgressions he had committed. Or something to that effect. The idea of war was not one Zeus especially savored, and if he could gain those things that he wanted without it, he would try. Athena's words still echoed in his mind. Essentially calling him a fool. Essentially questioning his wisdom. She had not shied away from a fight, once, long ago. When the world by any standard had still been young. Zeus didn't know if she was right or not - what he did know was, one way or another, he meant to end the attacks on his family. If that meant destroying all of them in one pure go, he would do that. Without any hesitation. If that meant shedding his own brother's blood... he had killed some more important to him, and for less.

( The time had come to end this. )