Unamused Prologue

The scent of ambrosia wafted through the dusky air, mingling with moans of pleasure. The lake was perfectly round and filled by an underground spring with clear water that deepened into cerulean at the center. An equally perfect circle of soft sand surrounded it, wide enough to accommodate the supple bodies of nearly every god and goddess in Elysium and their lovers. Some were dozing in the violet and orange haze. More were engaged in the act of love, often with multiple partners, in a slow, lazy orgy.

Strong, supple hands brushed against Polyhymnia's calves as she walked past a group of five or six nude, entwined, bronze-skinned gods and goddesses. She refrained from rolling her eyes as Ares tugged at her ankle more aggressively than any of the others. She gathered sand on the tip of her sandal and let it fly. He grunted and let go.

"You're such a prude, Poly," he muttered, brushing the sand out of his eyes.

"You're such a pest," Polyhymnia responded without looking back. His chuckle floated on the air behind her.

Narcissus was already at the pool, staring at his reflection, his back to her. He sensed her presence and called out, "No ripples!" without tearing his gaze from the water. Polyhymnia suppressed the urge to kick him in.

She moved along the sand at the edge of the water. When she was about a hundred yards away from Narcissus, she sank down onto her knees. The hem of her tunic pooled around her. The gasps and sighs receded from her awareness as she focused on her reason for coming to Elysium. She stared down at her grim reflection.

She and her sisters, by their nature, had a tendency to be scattered throughout the mortal world at any given time but they had a standing date once a year in Boeotia for any of them who could make it. Polyhymnia had shown up a week early, as usual, to arrange for food and wine with her father's servants, and hadn't been surprised when none of her sisters had shown up on the appointed day. Polyhymnia had missed a few reunions herself, having gotten lost in certain mortal entanglements. And to be honest, her sisters were all a bit self-absorbed and were, therefore, often late. But when a few days had passed and not even one of them had appeared, Polyhymnia had become concerned.

The pool at Elysium had the property of being able to show one what one wanted to see, so Polyhymnia had caught a ride on the closest pegasus. Now, she looked down into the water and forced herself to breathe deeply, consciously relaxing her shoulders. "Let me see Melpomene," she said, mentally unknotting the fist of worry that was clenched in her stomach. Of all of her sisters, Melpomene seemed to attract the most trouble. She also had the tendency to drag her sisters into her scrapes, which meant that by scrying for her, Polyhymnia was likely to find at least one or two more of her sisters at the same time.

An image of Melpomene appeared in the water. As the scene became clearer, Thalia appeared as well. Around them, urns and pillars appeared. Large cushions were scattered around the floor, upon which lounged the rest of Polyhymnia's sisters. It was as Polyhymnia had suspected -- except that none of her sisters looked upset, which they would have been if they'd been dragged into one of Melpomene's constant sagas. If all of her sisters were together and all was well, why hadn't they met at their father's house, as was tradition? And if they'd changed the location of their reunion, why had none of them told her?

The realization hit her. One of her father's servants must have mislaid a message from Hermes. Her sisters must be waiting for her. Polyhymnia's cheeks flushed with embarrassment. Her sisters would tease her mercilessly for showing up late. She quickly scanned the room for hints as to its location. The pillars were painted gold. The large cushions were all turquoise, and smaller round ones were orange. That meant her sisters must be at Calliope's home. Yes, the arrangement of the pillars framing the dusky sky behind them was familiar.

Polyhymnia gathered up the skirt of her tunic as she prepared to rise. The musical sound of her sister's laugh made her smile. It was nice to hear her usually agitated sister sound so happy. The laughter trailed off and Melpomene raised a golden goblet to her sisters. "Thank you all for being here, and thank you all for not inviting Polyhymnia. I couldn't take any of her judgment disguised as concern, this year."

Polyhymnia froze, half-risen into an awkward crouch. What?

Calliope snorted. "No problem," she said, an edge of disdain in her tone. "Calliope," she said, in a deep voice, "How's the writing on your epic coming along?"

Erato chimed in, her voice also unnaturally low, "Erato, how's your songwriting?" She snorted. "As though any of us has time to create our own art, what with constantly inspiring these otherwise pathetic mortals to greatness?"

Polyhymnia frowned. The bitterness in her sisters' voices was new to her. She'd never considered that her real interest in her sisters' lives was taken as criticism rather than encouragement.

"Thank you for not inviting her, Clio, we know you two get along," Euterpe said. Polyhynmnia's sisters turned their focus to Clio, and so did Polyhymnia. Polyhymnia, before this day, would never have admitted to having a favorite, but Clio was always the easiest to talk to, and she tended to be less gay and flighty than the rest of her sisters.

Clio flushed but she raised her chin, her golden eyes flashing a mild challenge. "It was either that or be uninvited myself," she replied, in her usual cool, even tone. "Besides, I imagine everything will work itself out, eventually."

Urania flicked a graceful wrist in a dismissive gesture. "If we wanted this reunion to revolve around Polyhymnia, we would have invited her. We'll see her next year, we just need a break from her. Terpsichore, play us some music. Let's dance."

Terpsichore put down her goblet and raised her everpresent lyre, and plucked a familiar melody. As the melody picked up, the image of Polyhymnia's sisters faded away.

Polyhymnia rose from her half-crouch and walked away from the pool, in a daze. Her head swam in confusion and her heart felt like it had been replaced with eight sharp, heavy pebbles. Stabbing pains radiated out from her chest, piercing her ribs. She collapsed on the sand, trying to catch her breath. She felt like her entire body was on fire.

She had never felt the specific shame that came from being betrayed by those she trusted the most but she was familiar with the concept, as she'd witnessed it happen to mortals many times. She'd always felt like it balanced out for them, being able to turn their pain into inspiration for beautiful art, but as she curled into her pain, she couldn't imagine any art beautiful enough to balance out this level of devastation.

A band of cool strength wrapped itself around her waist. She hadn't realized that she'd gone blind with rage until her vision cleared. The fine, golden sand against the pure white of her skirt. A bronze arm wrapped around her waist. Ares. He pulled her toward him. She fancied that she heard a sizzle as her burning skin met the coolness of his chest. His nearness wiped out the pain from her body. Slowly, her mind cleared and narrowed into focus on one thing.

Ares lay curled around her on the sand, her tears sizzling as they fell onto his muscled bicep. "Don't worry," he murmured into her hair. "I'm very good at revenge."



[Note: A post title with a ? means that the chapter is being worked on and not currently considered done, although, most likely, most of these chapters will be altered as the story goes along and I'm figuring out what's going on.]