Sunshine

Sunshine

Flora_Winters

Disclaimer: I do not own Hercules the Legendary Journey’s and I’m not making any money here either.

Summary: Apollo can’t seem to get over the loss of someone once dear to him and that’s when Aphrodite comes out to play. Throw in a little kidnapping, a bit of insanity and a dash from a certain hunky hero who can squeeze coal into diamonds. Language, MM, OC, Violence

Chapter One

Large gilded doors swung open and a warm breeze, smelling of fragrant hyacinths did herald Apollo into his golden temple. His radiant sunboard touched lightly down on an ornate rug, designed to reflect the very movement of the brilliant heavens. If mere mortals were to stare down into it for too long (and sometimes they did), they would go mad from gazing at such celestial perfection. The sweat which would bleed from their every pore would encase them in their own salt, transforming them into brittle statues to be swept up by one of the lower class of priests who tended to the inner workings of the grand temple.

Sunlight beamed from every painted window. Great pillars radiated with their own inner glow. Night could never touch this sacred place. The moon could never show her face in such splendor that was eternal. Where Apollo walked, darkness could not stay.

Stepping off his flying board, the Sun God walked across the spinning bodies of celestial song. Each one having their very own note, tune and string on his enchanted lyre. He would pluck them and send each of them off to dance to the rhythm of his own beat.

Speaking through the painted lips at Delphi, driving his fiery chariot across the sky, tanning (as if he ever needed it) naked on every beach until he was as gleaming as the golden dawn, and occasionally screwing around with some hapless mortals to get the worship he liked flowing, kind of, sort of…suddenly made him yawn.

Blue-eyed, sunny-haired Apollo cocked his head to the side in sudden wonder.

He was bored.

Left and right, servants bowed. Too and fro, servants bowed. In and out, servants bowed. Up and down, the servants all bowed. Bowing was all over and under, everywhere he looked.

Finally, he stood alone within his own personal apartments. A place only (rare) invited guests could ever truly see him. Up high, between the low spiraling beams of sparkling light. It would be utter madness to search him out.

He kicked off his shimmering boots with a blink, removed his gossamer shirt with a shrug, and was utterly naked just by thinking it so. He stood within the very heart of light. No! He was the heart of light. He was that which gave light. He was light. All light was him.

Sweet and radiant, he bathed in liquid light. A song only he could sing and would never share. He was truly selfish that way.

His glowing member stood erect, hard, and pulsing with his own divine juices. If ever there was a burning bush, it would be found between his wondrous legs. A golden forest in flames. A volcano rising up. An inferno ready to eject molten pearl.

Lightning blue eyes flashed and a pulse radiated from the deity. His mouth opened wide and the little world spinning about in its blanket of many stars accepted his gift of day.

Apollo fell backwards in a swirling vortex of musical lights, finding himself in the pleasure gardens of Olympus. A soft giggle brought him down from his ever so high.

“Hey, Bro,” the female’s voice roused him from his distorted haze. “How’s it hanging?”

Aphrodite stood to his right. All pale as snow and pretty in pink. Goddess of Love, Lust and all the messy stuff that came with them. The luster of her long, flowing locks sometimes caused him to feel just a little bit jealous.

“Low and straight down,” he answered her, receiving the usual smirk.

Aphrodite’s smile could make his light burn brighter. She could melt the ice in even the coldest of hearts. That was why Mommy Dearest never came near the forever blossoming bimbo. Hera had only her winter now and if she were to lose that, it was un-telling what her madness might talk her into.

“Nice flying today,” Aphrodite complimented him, floating towards him. Her movements were more graceful than a bird in flight and snow white blossoms bloomed where she stepped. “My roses needed the extra beams.”

He nodded.

Why was she here? Why was she talking to him?

Oh! This meant she must want something from him.

Well, this wasn’t going to be good.

He was instantly intrigued.

“What do you want, foam for brains?” He asked, snickering at the insult he gave her.

The goddess pondered his words for a moment and then pouted. Hearts of men shattered for miles. Devoted wives ran off to become wild women of the woods.

He held up his hands, but the goddess soon smiled once more. An eerie gleam twinkled in her ever-clear eyes. Spite took root in a few hearts, blossoming into flowers with venomous thorns.

“Oh, what do I want?” The goddess purred, breath sweeter than spring mist. Her eyes became vast, as vast as every vessel that led to a beating heart. “I want to know why you look so sad. Did you lose another fight with Herc?”

Apollo’s eyes bled gold and burning hot as the sun beyond the clouds that enshrouded Olympus. His locks became as flame.

“What?”

His voice echoed the sound the seas once made when the sun decided to take a flirtatious dip one summer evening when he hadn’t been looking. It had not been a pretty sound and it wasn’t one now.

“Or,” Aphrodite continued, ignoring his molten hot bluster. “Is it because no matter how hard you try , you can’t warm the space between your sheets all by yourself?”

Apollo’s bluster suddenly fizzled out with a pop. There was only smoke coming from his ears and nose holes now.

“What?” He asked again, only confused, but that confusion would seen burn away. “I am fine, thank you.”

Aphrodite turned full circle. Her silken garments fluttering up on the breeze as if they were the wings of doves.

“I am Love, dear Apollo,” she spoke, smiling, but her voice was everything but. “Do not scorn me.”

He was on his feet, hovering over her with the full intensity of the sun. But, she was flawless and merely stared into his burning wrath at being threatened.

She touched him. Light and soft, gentler than a feather.

“Threaten?” She asked, as if reading his guarded thoughts. No…his heart! “I am Love. How can I threaten?”

He took a small, respectful step back. He looked away from She Who Knew The Hearts Of All Man, Woman And God (save Hera, Athena and Artemis). It would indeed be most foolish to anger her. He didn’t want to find himself in love with something hideous.

Aphrodite suddenly slapped him across the shoulder, shocking him.

“You seriously need to lighten up, Sunshine,” she laughed like silver bells on the wind.

He gave her a suspicious eyeing over. She was up to something.

“Or you won’t know what’ll hit you,” she went on, dancing away from him. “But, it’ll be me.”

And then she was gone in a shower of rose petals and a salty splash of sea, leaving him standing where he was. A few flowers blossoming all milky and white at his feet.

Glancing at the towering palace of Zeus, his feet led him in a totally different direction. The laughter and reveling of the other gods soon vanished from his ears.

Was he sad? Was his bed cold?

He didn’t know. That pampered floozy was making him think about things he didn’t want to shine light on ever again. He didn’t want to see what faces they wore.

OOOOO

Aphrodite rose up from the cerulean waves and stood upon the face of her Uncle Poseidon’s deep. A city glistened within her aqua blue sights.

She walked across the calm waters, smiling the smile of one who had no worries or cares to worry or care about. She was the heart set free to soar on ever wind, every wing.

“I see you,” she grinned with perfect teeth, white as moon fire.

She held in her flawless hand a single strand of golden sunlight. A single, silky hair she had spirited from Apollo’s dazzling head.

Suddenly, the single strand of sunbeam began to glow a brilliant lover’s pink. It became like a needle in her hand. That which to ensnare a heart and set it ablaze.

OOOOO

Liquid sunshine was raining down from a clear blue sky as the dark headed youth raced amidst the foamy surf. Rain from no clouds was the love of Apollo and the young man let himself be drenched in the god.

Ever so often, he would stop with his play and pick up a seashell. He had a leather pouch at his side, where he would place all the really good ones he happened to discover.

He stopped once more and looked up at the sky. Liquid sunshine fell into his leaf green eyes, causing him to blink. He shook his drenched head and continued with his playing.

He would soon be of sixteen springs and no longer would he be allowed such freedom. A life in the temple of Apollo would be his forever future. So, he would play as much as he could until that time came.

A life of perpetual worship, prayer, hymn, song, and poetry was fast approaching. And in the years to come, when his father should pass away, he would become the new High Priest of the Sun God to the people.

“If you want me,” he whispered under his breath. “Come and take me.”

And with a beautiful smile, Pythian kicked up a spray of sand. A warm breeze snuggled him as if it were a hug.

He spotted another shell and snatched it up.

OOOOO

Aphrodite, invisible, stood not teen feet from the beautiful youth. Her smile made butterflies flutter from their cocoons in a shower of rainbow.

“Such fun,” she giggled, letting loose with her needle of love.

It flew straight.

It flew true.

It pierced Pythian’s beating heart with the intensity of a stealth warrior’s poisonous arrow.

OOOOO

Pythian grabbed his breast, stumbled two steps, spun around, and fell flat on his back in the sand. The gentle surf played around his fallen form.

The sky above him was a maze of confusion. Walls of color. A blue canvas, filled with star bursts and shimmering lights.

“Apollo,” he whispered, dazzled eyes closing in sleep.

OOOOO

Aphrodite stood over her new project, gently prodding him with a shapely foot. The boy was out faster than a candle left in an open window. She picked him up as if he weighed nothing.

“And now,” she said, taking flight in her swan drawn carriage. “For the really fun part to begin.”

OOOOO

A familiar voice tickled Apollo’s ear and he gazed off to the side. It was a voice he had particularly taken a liking to.

The voice of Pythian. The son of the Voice of Calydon. His beloved city.

But, the youth’s voice sounded so very different. A sound he had not heard in an eon. A distant sound that had him descend, fall, and shatter like light across an injured mirror.

He went to the place where the youth had last spoken his name, finding only sand and surf talking amongst themselves. Pythian was nowhere to be seen.

The sea steered clear of his feet and the sand under them was brilliant glass. As he walked, he left a trail of glass footprints along the beach.

OOOOO

The very beautiful Goddess of Love stepped from her lofty carriage and into young Pythian’s bedchambers. She gently put him to bed and tenderly brushed his loose locks out and away from his stunning face.

“You are lovely,” she spoke to him. “Almost as lovely…if not lovelier than…you will do nicely.”

She took a seat beside him, breathing sweet scented warmth upon him.

“When you open your petal green eyes, your heart will be filled with my simple brother,” she spoke, patting him on the breast, not daring to say Apollo’s name should it very well summon him to this questionable scene. “And I will do the same to him for you…”

The door flew open and the goddess turned. The man stepping in didn’t look like a palace guard. He looked like…a thug!

“Found you, boy,” the barbarian grinned.

Aphrodite, still invisible, stood in a hiss of flowing silk.

“Excuse you,” she rattled like some venomous reptile. “I was talking here, you unwashed bug…”

She was just about to reveal her terrible awesomeness and make the fool fall in love with a rusty door handle, when an even more awesome thought tickled her terrible brain.

A kidnapping!

A daring rescue mission!

Apollo was so bored. This would be perfect! Oh, what wonderful timing?

She praised herself right then and there, watching the smelly brute pick Pythian up, tossing him over a shoulder as if the youth were a bag of grain.

Of course, Apollo would no doubt rescue his future High Priest. Of course, he would have fun doing it as well. The people of Calydon were under his protection. This was his beloved city. Any affront done to its people was a punch to his aquiline nose.

Her eyes widened all the more. She would even get Hercules involved.

Oh, she could have cackled, but that would have been a very Hera thing to do.

But, who wanted the boy?

Then the thug began to get a little too greedy for his own good. She watched him go through some things, even bumping poor Pythian’s head a few times.

Finally, she lost all patience.

“Yo,” she said, making herself seen. “The name’s Aphrodite. Kiss-kiss, boo. Now get that boy to where you’re taking him.”

The thug instantly froze where he stood. A hard bump appeared in his leather crotch.

“Oh, what are you waiting for, idiot?” She hissed, stamping her foot. “Go on! Get! Before you get hanged!”

Giving him a godly shock, she sent him on his way, scratching at his brain like a feral feline, telling him that if he so much as thought her name, his aching member would never find release ever again. So, the thug ran with Apollo’s bounty strewn over his shoulder.

“Does this place seriously not have guards?” She asked, looking around.

There were none to be seen.

“Oh, well,” she shrugged, walking out the window. “Fun, fun, fun.”

She needed to pick up a little something from her temple. It was gold, really sharp, and could fly for miles until it struck its intended heart.

TBC…

Please review and tell me what you think.

I have been a long time fan of Hercules. I had the biggest crush on him.

I believe Ares, Discord, and Strife will be making a scene everyone once and a while, too. Those three were always good together. They make an evil and wickedly hilarious trio.

~Flora