Lethe was barely conscious of her hair’s movement. After having been pure river for such a stretch, there were parts of her that just weren’t ready to be solid yet. It was as silky a substance as any might expect to find curling about a goddess, but it continued to move of its own volition, reminding those who saw her of her otherworldliness.
If Lethe had thought of it, she’d have stopped it – it seemed a little dramatic for her taste.
Her intention tonight hadn’t been to come here and meet someone to share a few hours and tangled breaths with – though that wasn’t generally ever totally out of the question. Loki was a handsome god, and a charmer, obviously. But beside the issue of him being a god, he was off-limits because of another of Lethe’s rules – he was married. That was usually a mess waiting to happen – Lethe had borne witness to far too many problems arising with jealous spouses in her own pantheon (in her own family) to think it was any different in others.
Lethe’s hair wavered a bit as she took another sip of her drink, then turned her eyes back to him with a slight smile, a little reserved, a little assessing, as he mentioned the Underworld. Many, many people – deities included – balked at the mention of the Underworld. Even gods found the Underworld -- any Underworld -- creepy, often enough. This was the part where Lethe anticipated discomfort, and if he was really squeamish, he might make his excuses.
But his daughter ruled their Underworld. That made her smile expand a bit as she nodded. “I have heard of her. My dad is our Underworld – Erebos. Hades rules it, but Dad makes up the substance of it.” She shrugged. Lethe didn’t know if Loki would have heard of her father. Obviously, to her, he was kind of a big deal – and really, he was. But none of her family were as famous as the Olympians, so who knew?
Her hair curled coyly about her head, framing her face, flowing down her back, as if aware of his interest.