Backward, Turn Backward

Backward, Turn Backward, Part 6

Settling

Cupid cocked his had, studying Strife. "I don't know you. I thought I knew ev'rybody on 'lympus."

Strife felt the need to sit back down, and sank onto a small sofa. "That's 'cause I'm not Greek, kiddo. I'm Irish."

Cupid climbed up beside him. "Air-ish?"

"Some say that me head is, but they're just jealous." Cupid frowfor for a second, then got the joke and giggled. "I'm from Ireland, and I've come to see the sights. I'm hoping your mom can put me up for awhile."

"We gots lots of room," said Cupid agreeably. "You can sleep in my room, if you want."

Strife winced. "Um, someday, but not now. The idea brings up all sorts of ethical and moral dilemmas."

Now Cupid frowned. "Are you a phil-soss-ipher? My daddy says that phil-soss-iphers are a pain in the butt, an' talk way more than is good or healthy for any person. He says they love the sound of their own voice--sorta like Unca 'Pollo."

Strife cackled. "Some things never change. Nope, I'm not a phil-sossi-pher, but I -do- have a phil-sosso-phy."

"Can I see it? I've never seen one before."

Strife coughed. "I'll have it embroidered on a hanky some time soon, then you can see it. It's just an idea."

"Well, why didn't you SAY so? What is it?"

"Screw 'em if they can't take a joke."

Cupid thought about this for a moment, then giggled. "You said 'screw'."

Strife giggled, too. "You should have heard what I was THINKING."

"I like you. If Mommy doesn't let you stay, I won't take a bath or eat my vegetables."

"Do you do that without being told?"

"Well, no."

"Still a good plan."

Aphrodite came wafting into the room in a cloud of pink gauze and rose scent. She was wearing her hair a little differently, more of a smooth fall than the riot of curls she'd had at Strife's birthday party, but it was still Dite. No one else on earth OR Olympus could bounce like that, and for the first time Strife experienced Dite in 'well, hellooo, handsome stranger!' mode. *She's damn near melting the silver in my jewelry. I'm sorta glad Cupid's here--she HAS to have toned down the thermostat a couple of degrees with him watching.* Strife stood up quickly, and gave Aphrodite his most courtly bow, being sure to flourish the cape.

"Well, Toomis told me I had a distinguished visitor, but he didn't tell me what a cutie you are! Have a seat." As Strife sat, Dite said, "Cupid, honey, scoot over and let Mommy sit down."

Cupid scooted, but TOWARD Strife. Then he patted the cushion invitingly. ", Mo, Mommy. Lotsa room. This is..." He looked up at Strife. "You know my name, but I didn't hear so good behind the tap'stry."

"Eavesdropping again? Honestly, baby, I don't know what I'm going to do with you!" She looked over at Strife. "You wouldn't believe the precautions I have to take if I want to throw the simplest little orgy, and if I don't send him to a sitter, the guests are so nervous that they don't really enjoy themselves."

"Ah, he's just a curious lad. There's no harm in him." Cupid gave Strife a pained look. Strife winked at him while Dite was distracted, flipping her hair. "My name is Erin, after me own, dear homeland, and I'm their God of Humor and Pranks."

"Oh, I've heard about the problems you've been having over there." She clucked sympathetically, but the look in her eyes told him that she intended to get a long, juicy accounting from him, somewhere down the line. "And you're here seeking refuge?" She giggled. "I must say THAT'S novel. You're welcome to stay here for as long as necessary, sweetie. I just hope you aren't in a big hurry to make it official. Zeus is pre-occupied with his latest squeeze--an Etruscan dancer." She wrinkled her nose. "Not one of mine, and Hera really has her toga in a twist over this one. She's told him that if he fathers one more bastard child... Well, Chronos will look like a gentle and nurturing parent." She stood up and smiled fetchingly, offering her hand. "Now," she cooed, "why don't we go get you settled in a room?"

Strife was relieved when Cupid popped up and grabbed his mother's hand, then offered his free one to Strife. "Yeah, an' then you can come see my room. I gots building blocks, an' lots of paint an' parchment. You can show me what your house is like back at Air-in." Dite was pouting as they made their way from the room, but Cupid didn't notice (or if he did, was too used to it to pay any attention). He'd found another interesting subject. "Do you got a mess'ger there, like Hermes? Cause when somebody sends you a scroll, how does he know where to take it if they just say 'Erin'? Huh? He can't take it to the whole COUNTRY."

*Keep chattering and keep close, Cupie,* Strife thought. *I should be pretty safe once I'm introduced to Heph and make a big show out of how lucky he is to have such a wife. That'll puff Dite up and give her a teeny case of the guilts at the same time, and she'll probably spend the next few days trying to prove to him how right I am.*

He spent the rest of the afternoon with Cupid. It gave him some great ammunition for when Cupe started in on Bliss with 'when I was your age, -I- never...', and it kept Aphrodite out of his pants. She lingered for a little while, but it was spring--her busy season, and she had work to do. Cupid was happy to have him, since Olympus had even fewer child gods now than they had in the future, and the adults weren't always patient enough. They couldn't see the fun in building a block tower thirty-five times, and knocking it over thirty-four times. When Cupid mentioned this, Strife just shrugged and knocked the structure over again, saying, "Tartarus, kid,s nos not like we're building for the ages."

When they moved on to drawing, Cupid insisted on a picture of Strife's house. Luckily Strife had a good imagination, because he wouldn't have been able to explain a detailed sketch of the Olympic Temple of War. *And I'd probably be explaining it while strapped down in one of Ares' torture chambers. He's got a low tolerance of people having information about his defenses when they shouldn't.*

There had been a few sketchy illustrations in his research material, and he elaborated on them. Strife was actually a pretty good draftsman, and he quickly drew up a fanciful looking edifice, with plenty of soaring turrets, narrow windows, and snapping pennants, with a moat, and a drawbridge on either end. Cupid clapped in delight when he inked a monster into the moat, and explained that they let it eat all the castle-to-castle peddlers it could catch. He felt foolishly proud when Cupid insisted on pinning the sketch in place of pride, over his bed.

Supper was informal. 'Erin' was introduced to Hephastus, and quickly engaged the God of the Forge in a discussion about various practical jokes, like dribble goblets, or chariot wheels that made loud, obnoxious noises without any easily discernable (or correctible) reason. Aphrodite could see that her husband was taking a liking to the visiting godling, and regretfully crossed him off her list of future conquests. Heph loved Cupid like his own, but she knew that he still ached a little that he was Ares' blood, and not his own. He had wanted desperately to give her children. Despite the wandering eye that was dictated by the nature of her godhood, she loved this rough man with all her heart, and never wanted to hurt him. He turned away from her many frivolous trysts, but sleeping with someone he knew, and liked, would hurt him. Erin was off limits.

She watched him as he told some long, elaborate joke. The candlelight glinted on the blue of his eyes, and the silver bangles hanging from his ears. He wasn't exactly handsome--far too quirky for that. *Exotic.* She nodded to herself in satisfaction. Now he'dod uod up and was demonstrating how he'd snuck up on some poor, unsuspecting mortal, in order to administer a well-deserved boot in the behind. His gestures were exaggerated for his laughing audience, but he moved with fluid grace, and the body inside his gaudy clothes was lean. *Okay, hands off for me. But that doesn't mean I can't look into setting him up with someone ELSE.* She smiled at him sweetly, beginning to run over the list of unattached goddesses. She re-examined his colorful clothing. *Goddesses, AND gods.*

Strife had seen that look many, many times. *Uh-oh. I think I've been targeted. Thank goodness Cupie hasn't taken up his duties yet, or Mama Love would have him shoot my ass, sure as shit. Eh, if she's REALLY serious about fixing me up, she won't try to jump my bones herself. And if I don't act TOO skittish, she'll try to nudge it along naturally, without resorting to potions. Looks like I flirt my ass off. What a hardship.*

"You know, Erin, I think I ought to set up a little do tomorrow. Zeus will declare a state function to officially introduce you to the Pantheon somewhere down the line, but there's no telling WHEN that will be."

"I'd hate to put you to any trouble." *Wait for it.*

"Oh, NO trouble. I LIVE for parties."

"But tomorrow afternoon..."

"HERMES!" It was, if there is such a thing, a ladylike bellow.

Hermes appeared in a silver flash. He had a drumstick in his hand, and looked annoyed. "Zeus, Dite, is this an emergency? I'd like to occasionally have a meal that wasn't interrupted."

"Yes, it's urgent. I'm having a little party tomorrow, and I need everyone notified tonight. Just nfornformal affair--no sex unless they really feel moved."

Hermes sighed, rolling his eyes. "This is urgent?"

"Hermes, you like bringing GOOD news, don't you?" She pointed at Strife. "Meet Erin--God of Humor and Pranks from theticstics. He's fleeing a homeland in turmoil and a bad home life, the poor lamb."

Hermes turned interested eyes on Strife. *Translation: gossip fodder. But the more I can meet at that shindig, the better.* He looked bravely tragic.

Hermes nodded at Strife. "I've heard about you. I'd offer to shake hands, but..." He lifted the chicken leg.

"No problem. Sorry about your meal, laddie. Being the messenger must be a tough, thankless job." *Butter, butter, butter.*

Hermes looked pleased, then shot an arch look at Dite. "It's nice to know some people realize that. Okay, Dite. I'll have the word out in a jiffy. You want RSVP?"

"No, I'll just plan on having an open house."

"You always do."

The plate she threw flew through the cloud of sparks that marked his departure. Love might be blind, but she had darn good aim.