Oh look, chaise. Wonderful. Had it been there a moment ago? Iris couldn't recall. “You don't mind if I sit, do you?” She asked, but was already seating herself even as she asked. Xenia would require him to offer her comfort in his home and even if it didn't, she wasn't asking for much and Hypnos didn't strike her as the type to refuse her a basic comfort. The second her bottom met the plush chaise, her face softened in relief. She really hadn't been quite as aware as physically exhausted she was moments ago.
Sometimes Hera did work her too hard. If she didn't have to dart back to Hera's immediately after this, she would be taking a pit-stop at her temple for a quick nap. Iris worked hard, she deserved a nap occasionally.
First she had to finish this up. Her gaze was sort of staring into open space when she realized it had suddenly gone quiet. Had Hypnos said something? Did he agree to Hera's request? Had he asked her a question? He seemed to be awaiting a response. Gods above she was tired.
Oh, right. He asked why Hera wasn't sending her. Iris frowned. It was a valid question he was asking, but if he only knew exactly what he was asking. It certainly made sense for Iris to be sent to deliver the message to the widow, except that Iris sort of failed when it came to delivering bad news. She was epically bad at it. The fact that she didn't succeed in keeping Leto from giving birth at Hera's order, instead taking pity on Leto and finding her a secret place to bring Artemis and Apollo into the world, that was just proof that in the bad news department Iris was a people pleaser.
That and she wasn't good with tears. It made her uncomfortable. And the death of one's husband would require more than a pat on the head and a kind word from a goddess.
“If it were a simple matter of delivering a message, then I'm certain Hera would request it of me. But she wants this Alcyone to come to the realization herself, through dreams. And...” Darn it, she yawned again. “Let me be frank, Hypnos,” Iris leaned to the side slightly, putting her weight on one arm and hand. “I don't handle tears well.”