| Greek Massage [Aphrodite] |
[27 May 2008|08:22pm] |
Zeus detested being angry. The tension, the heartburn, who needed it? Why did his subjects - or more specifically in this case, his family - insist on infuriating him, time and time again? To loosen that tension, he shook his hands out at his sides as he walked through the near-deserted temple gardens. Then he sat by a babbling fountain and watched the swans glide along its surface. Then he rolled his shoulders and stared at the way the grass bent in the wind. Nothing was working. A peacock started screaming just to the left of him, and it was all he could do to keep from lashing out and kicking the damned thing. But noooo, Hera loved her peacocks, didn't she? He didn't fancy the headache he'd get from listening to Hera after she found out one of her peacocks died in the garden after a fatal boot wounding. He heaved a sigh and stared at the clouds drifting lazily overhead. When nothing else worked, there was always the old standby. And Zeus had been meaning to pass along a trinket he'd picked up for Aphrodite.
It was not seemly for a man to take a lover in the home he shared with his spouse. Since Zeus, King of the Gods, was always kind to that flower of perfection - his darling, cherished wife - he didn't call Aphrodite to the temple. Instead, he changed into a pair of khakis, brown leather sandals, and a polo shirt, then headed for the private island he knew the goddess of love favored. By the time his foot hit the stairs, his hand was already tugging out the box in his pocket. He flicked the lid into nonexistence, fiddled with the gold clasp, and managed to get it open before he got to the door. He wanted this to greet her. The sensual lines, the rich smoothness of the gold, the nestled pearl inside its scalloped shell locket... It was just exactly what he wanted her to be thinking about.
There was the small matter of knocking...
He used his elbow.
|
|
