Who: Zeus & Hephaestus What: Father & son reuniting When: Monday evening Where: Some random bar Note: Reposted as a favour
The silence and solitude was finally starting to get to Hephaestus a little bit, so he pulled on his coat and headed out. Hermes had recommended a bar to him some time ago, and this was the first time he'd had the urge to seek it out.
Stepping inside, he shrugged off his coat and found a seat at the bar. It wasn't too crowded, a few business men relaxing after work and a few others. He ordered a whiskey neat, and settled back as he sipped it, enjoying the warm feeling spreading through his limbs. It was good to finally relax a little bit.
Zeus usually didn't care about the presence of other immortals and he didn't often let people interrupt his drinks. His business was still being looked into for fraud and he spent each day getting more and more annoyed.
When he looked up from his drink and saw his disgrace of a son sitting in his bar, Zeus couldn't let that lie. He downed his vodka and then rose from his chair, striding over to Heph's table. "What do you think you are doing here?"
Hephaestus had been hoping the other immortal he had sensed would just let him be. Many did, but some did not. Apparently, the Fates weren't listening to him today.
When he saw his father striding over to him, he felt his stomach drop. Zeus was one of the immortals on his 'I'd rather not see you ever again, if it's all the same to you' list. But here he was, so he was going to have to make the best of it.
He raised one eyebrow. "I am having what was, until now, a peaceful drink. Hermes suggested I try this place sometime, so here I am." He really didn't feel he owed his father any explanation, but maybe this one would get him to go away, at least for now.
Zeus narrowed his eyes and he leaned down near his son, his voice low so only Hephaestus could hear him. "You are not worthy to be in a place like this. This place caters to a certain kind of clientèle. You don't belong here, you belong in your forge."
Hephaestus had just about had it with everything. All he'd wanted to do was have his drink and enjoy the feeling of being somewhere that wasn't his house. Plan thwarted, as usual.
"And what kind of clientèle is that, Father?" he replied just as quietly, venom lacing his words. "Arrogant? Self-important? Then perhaps you're right, I don't belong here. And you may be in the mood to give orders today, but frankly, I'm not in the mood to follow them."
"You always thought I belonged in my forge," he continued bitterly. "Making your lightning bolts, making your palace, making your throne. And what do I get in return? Never a word of thanks, and you threw me from Olympus."
He sipped his drink, never taking his eyes from his father. He knew he was being disrespectful, he knew, and he didn't care. He'd been keeping all these things to himself for so long. It felt good to finally say what he'd been thinking all these years.
Zeus couldn't punch his son in the face in this bar and ever be allowed back. He wanted to, but he knew it wouldn't be allowed. Instead, anger made his stomach coil and he glared at Hephaestus and he said, through clenched jaw, "get up. Get up from your chair and come with me." His voice didn't invite argument. It was icy and dangerous.
He made a grab for the drink in his son's hands and when a random server gave him a sideways look, he explained apologetically, "this man is an alcoholic. He keeps trying to quit, but he just keeps falling off the wagon. As his sponsor, I need to take him out of here." That should ensure that Hephaestus had no reason to stay in the bar anyway.
"Treating me like a five year old mortal child isn't going to help," Hephaestus said, settling more firmly into his seat. In for a penny, in for a pound. He could already see the murder in his father's eyes, may as well keep going until he'd said everything. "I have no desire to go anywhere with you, I never have and I never will."
He let Zeus take the drink, his good mood was thoroughly ruined anyway. He waved the server away. "You're a fine one to talk about being an alcoholic," he muttered. "If anyone needs a sponsor out of the two of us, it would probably be you."
He got up from his chair. "I'm going home. So much for a quiet night out. Do you really hate me so much you can't even allow me that?" he asked, head cocked to one side inquisitively.
His son was acting like a petulant child. Zeus wrapped his hand around Hephaestus' arm firmly, and he leaned in close again. "How dare you speak to your king like that. And you wonder why I look on you with disgust. I should leave you to the Erinyes."
"There is no more Olympus, father. You are king in name only," he replied. "And you look on me with disgust because I agreed with Hera once, and because I am not the son you wanted, through no fault of mine. I was born this way, half the blame lies with you."
"To unleash the Erinyes upon me is your choice, of course," he said, knotting his scarf and buttoning his coat. "I'm sure they'll know where to find me." And he started to walk toward the door.
Zeus couldn't remember a time when he had been quite so insulted in his life. Of course, there probably was a time, but as this was now, it felt worse by miles.
He was being disrespected and ignored by a cripple. And he could do nothing to him here.
Once they got outside, it would be a different story. Zeus moved to follow his son out where they would be under the sky.
"You no longer know your place," Zeus growled. "And so help me, I will show it to you."
"Fine," Hephaestus spat back, properly angry now. "Go ahead, Father. I'm tired of being used and ignored and never shown any respect. If you want me to respect you as king, a little appreciation would go a very long way. But I'm not holding my breath."
He turned up the collar of his coat against the chill and said, "If that's all, O Mighty Zeus, I'm going home."
It wasn't all. Zeus firmed his jaw and as Hephaestus walked away from him, Zeus gathered storm clouds over their heads. Zeus called down a lightning bolt, causing it to strike in front of Hephaestus, and though it wouldn't harm him, it would no doubt cease his escape, at least for a moment.
He'd been half-expecting something like this, but it was still a little startling to have a lightning bolt strike right in front of you, and it made him stop short. He sighed. May as well get it over with, then.
"Alright, you have my attention," he said, turning to face Zeus again. "What do you want?"
Zeus closed the distance between them and the clouds above them disappeared. Now that they were outside, Zeus could yell.
"I didn't have to miss," Zeus reminded his son. "I will not be treated like this by you. I gave you an order and I expect you to obey. You do not receive thanks because you defy me. I am still the king, Olympus or no."
Oh, they were on to shouting matches? Fine. Hephaestus could play that game too.
"No, you didn't, but if you expect me to grovel at your feet in thanks, you'll be waiting until the sky falls," he threw back. "As for your order, I'm out of my chair, and I'm here, with you. I fail to see any defiance here."
"It is your tone that is defiant," Zeus said, drawing closer and lowering his voice then. "And the fact that you would walk around in public, forcing people to look at you. Their days have been hard enough, Hephaestus. They don't need to gaze upon you to bring them lower."
Hephaestus all but laughed in his face then. "As if you ever cared about my tone," he said, forcing his voice to be even. "As for my being out and about, haven't you heard, father? It's a free country. I can go out whenever and wherever I wish."
"Besides," he said, twirling his cane. "I have this, and people usually give me a decent berth, or they offer to help me. The ones who are 'brought lower' by me, as you say, are not even worth my notice. And you are rapidly trying my patience, so I will ask again. What. Do. You. Want."
Zeus wanted to kill Hephaestus, over-reaction or no. Instead he glared and narrowed his eyes. Hephaestus' punishment would come in time. Just killing him here on the street wouldn't do.
"Get out of my sight," Zeus hissed at him, as if he hadn't just forced the poor man to come back. "Get out of my sight and never darken my life with your presence again."
"Gladly," Hephaestus flung back. "You won't ever have to worry about seeing me again, Father."
And he began to limp down the block, leaning a bit more heavily on his cane because his knees were shaking a little. Raising the wrath of the Sky King wouldn't end well, he was sure, but he was a grown man, dammit, and a god in his own right. And he'd deal with the fallout-whatever it was-when it came.