What Now?

87 - Weeks Gone By

by Werewindle

 

Strife woke curled up in the middle of a pile of sleeping bodies. He stretched a little but didn’t get up. Instead he snuggled closer the large warm body behind him.

Today was the day. He was finally going to get his memories back. Strife felt giddy and nervous and not quite believing. He wasn’t going to let himself get worked up though. He was just going to relax and wait for everybody else to awaken. There was no sense in rushing anyway since they couldn’t remove the inhibitor until after sunset.

Last night his friends and family had gathered in the Halls of War. It wasn’t a party but they had all stayed close lending support. They had refused to leave even though they were all starting to yawn and drift off mid sentence.

Eris and Aphrodite rounded everyone up and had them bringing in the matrices from the bedrooms to form a huge pallet in the dining room after banishing the table and chairs. Blankets and pillows were passed out and everyone piled in together. It was silly but comforting.

Joxer rolled over and nearly hit Strife with his elbow, the immortal tossed his arm over Ares with a sigh. Strife grinned at the sight. A lot had happened since the four first came to Olympus - since he had met Joxer that day in the woods.

He’d found out that by some goddly workings he had two fathers and a sort of mother. He’d found three friends better then any you could wish for.

Jayce had pretty much moved in with Apollo, and it was easy to see that the two were very much in love. Strife expected an invite to a bonding ceremony very soon from the pair.

Jett, loner that he professed to be, had fallen hard under the spell of a certain goddess. The assassin was sneaking his way into Eris affections by waging a full-out courting. Dinners, trinkets even flowers for her hair every morning. The whole thing was impossibly romantic.

And Joxer... well unless Strife was mistaken, and he didn’t think he was, Joxer had a serious crush on Ares. Strife wasn’t even sure if he realized it yet. Not surprising really, Joxer had been dealing with the revelation that two women he’d thought of as dear friends not only didn’t return the sentiment but thought him a worthless liar. Ares had been furious, ranting about the pair and their treatment of his Joxer. Strife would lay money on Joxer and Ares getting together within the next lunar cycle.

Strife was glad his friends were fitting in so well on Olympus. But at the same time Strife felt that there was something missing from his life. Not his memories - which he’d sort of gotten used to not having, but a curious ache in his chest. Sometimes he found himself searching faces he passed on the paths. He didn’t know for who. Maybe it was just jealousy that his friends had all found a mate and he hadn’t.

Strife hoped that the return of he memories and his powers would give him an answer.


88 - Passed

Cupid bathed Bliss, the godling had had quite the morning and bits of grape jelly were still clinging to his hair. Cupid bundled Bliss into a big fluffy towel and carried the toddler to his room. He pinned a nappy on him and laid the little whirlwind down for his nap.

Bliss was trained enough not to need the diapers while he was up but Cupid made sure to always put one on him before putting him down to sleep. The Love god was so glad his baby didn’t look like he wanted to hold on to his toddler-hood unlike his daddy. Cupid had a whole new appreciation for his Mom for putting up with decades of tantrums, thrown food and peeing in potted plants.

Cupid kissed Bliss’ forehead and left him to sleep. He wandered out to the open den and flopped on to the couch. Cupid’s stomach was starting to roil with anxiety. Strife: his favorite cousin, his best friend, his first lover - not sex partner but true lover, his Strife was waking up today.

Strife’s death had torn him apart and his grief over loosing him had torn his marriage apart. Or rather exposed the rotten core. Instead of supporting him Psyche had became sullen, claiming that Cupid had been having an affair with Strife while they were married. Nothing he said could persuade her otherwise.

Then Daddy Heph told him they were going to bring Strife back and Cupid literally floated with joy. He’d taken Bliss with him to the rebirth ceremony knowing that Bliss had missed Strife just as much as he had. They’d come home to a wrecked temple. Psyche couldn’t stand that his attention wasn’t focused on her and showed her rage by destroying their home.

Cupid had been hurt, not because he knew that was the end of their marriage but because Psyche had not contained her destruction to his things or even dishes and such but she had burned Bliss’ blocks and tore apart his stuffed toys. That had hurt the most - her total disregard for her own son.

Hera had given Psyche a choice remain immortal and help raise Bliss or be sent back to the Mortal Realm. Psyche made the mistake of plotting to ’get rid of’ Bliss and pay Cupid back by seducing Ares. Her little monolog to her pet dog was over heard and Hera decided that Psyche could better serve the world as a cow. Psyche now provided milk for an orphanage outside of Sparta.

Cupid had taken Bliss away after that. Just the two of them at a little house on an island. Dite and Heph had come for dinner a few times but other then that they’d been alone. It had been great to spend so much time with Bliss and not have to worry about work or anything else.

They were heading back today to greet Strife when he wakes. Cupid couldn’t wait to see those stunning blue eyes again.

But Cupid was also worried. The last time Mom and Daddy Heph had come to visit they had seem a bit off. He hoped that nothing had happened to his Strife, surely they would have told him if it had?

Cupid rolled off the couch and went to take his own bath. He’d know either way soon. Cupid relaxed into the pool of water and closed his eyes. He felt like a chapter of his life had ended, that all the angst and stress had passed and now he could enjoy what was to come.


89 - Months Since I Saw Your Face

The great-room was full of milling people and the chatter was starting to wear on Strife’s nerves. Twilight started her journey across the sky and he knew Apollo would soon be coming through the door. There was a commotion behind him and Strife turned to see what had happened.

All he could see was people’s backs and the tips of two white wings. There was another flurry of raised voices and then the crowd suddenly parted. Strife felt like his breath had been stolen. An absolutely gorgeous tanned blond was striding toward him.

The winged man had to be a god - no mere human could be so perfect. He was shirtless except for crisscrossing straps over his chest. The lines of his abbes begged to be licked. The rich brown leather pants stretched enticingly over the god’s thighs and were cut just right to hint at what lay at their apex while still leaving a bit of mystery.

Strife couldn’t look away, couldn’t blink. He was a breath away from falling to his knees in supplication.



Cupid couldn’t believe his Mom hadn’t told him! His Strife had been hurt! Athena was damn lucky she’d been baby-fied or Cupid would have torn her up. He was going to see his Strife right now and he’d blast anybody who got in his way. Cupid growled when people didn’t move quick enough and the crowed jumped out of his way.

There was Strife standing by the window. Cupid didn’t run over and pounce him, but it was a close thing. It was almost too much after not seeing him for months to suddenly have him standing there. Strife wasn’t wearing his normal black leather outfit, Cupid thought he was totally drool-worthy in his loose gray pants and tight blue vest. The deep color made his eyes pop even more. Cupid had always adored Strife’s eyes.

Cupid stopped in front of Strife and gently touched his cheek, his cousin just blinked at him. Cupid crushed Strife to him in a big hug. He hooked his chin over the thin shoulder and closed his eyes to better relish the feel of the man in his arms.

Strife’s arms came up around him hesitantly. “Who are you?”

The winged god‘s hold tightened and he sniffed audibly before answering. “Cupid.”

“Oh.” Strife let himself be held until Apollo demanded they part.


90 - Fixed

Apollo guided Strife over to a chaise lounge that had been elevated. He had him lay down and then motioned for Hephaestus. The massive god gently picked up Strife’s left wrist and snapped the inhibitor bracelet.

Strife gasped, he could suddenly feel the full scope of his powers. Control of them was just out of his reach but they were there. Hephaestus picked up his right arm and waited until Strife nodded his consent before snapping the bracelet.

Strife twitched and arched as his powers coursed through him. By the stars he’d missed them. Then his memories were there, overwhelming him as he tried to realign the two images of himself. Hands reached out petting his head, holding his hands, gripping his ankles and shoulders.

When his eyes cleared he saw his family, old and new, gathered around him. Strife giggled and disappeared from the chair only to reappear behind Ares. He jumped on the older god’s back. “Daddy!” He chortled and laid a smacking kiss on his scruffy cheek.

Ares pretended to growl at the young god but he was smiling as Strife jumped Heph as well. He got the air squeezed out of him by Dite, he saw Eris standing back a little from the group. Strife slipped around Dite and over to the dark haired goddess.

Eris eyes were teary when Strife hugged her. “Thanks, Mom.” He whispered just loud enough for her to hear.

“For what?” Eris had one arm around her baby’s back and the other carding through his hair. He was whole again and already causing mischief and she was happy to see it.

“For taking care of my friends, for taking care of me.”

Eris kissed his cheek and then shoved him away lightly. “Yeah, well, don’t let it go to your head Brat.” Her voice was gruff but her lips were curling up at the ends.


91 - New Me

Strife flexed his hand open and closed, creating and reabsorbing flames of power. It was early morning and he’d yet to go to sleep. The celebration last night had only ended a short while ago and most of the revilers were past out in the common rooms. Strife felt jumbled. He was glad to have his powers back, his memories on the other hand...

As a god he had never really gotten involved with mortals on an everyday level. The only ones he had major dealings with were demi-gods themselves - like Herc the Jerk or Xena. But now he had three mortal friends (alright so formerly mortal thanks to Eris).

To be perfectly honest before this whole rebirth-no-memories thing he wouldn’t have given a second thought to the triplets. Oh, he would have USED them - but he wouldn’t have taken the time to KNOW them.

So now Strife had to merge the two notions of self: Strife, God of Mischief and Scythas, mortal with no past.

One would have hated being forced to sleep on the ground and never would have gotten along with the easy-going Joxer.

The other couldn’t imagine not being friends with Joxer and his brothers and might have even (though he’d deny it) enjoyed performing with the Bent River crew.

The ONLY thing the two parts seemed to have in common is their attraction to Cupid. The winged god was seriously hot, and recently single again. Strife got up from the window seat and rolled onto his bed. Cupid wasn’t going to spend time with a cracked god so Strife HAD to get over this dual-personality thing. He settled on his stomach and propped his chin on his hand.

So...

Three new friends, did he care that they were mortal? -- No.

Was he going to go make friends with the rest of Greece and be all touchy-feely-lets all get along? -- Not a chance. But he would send a little extra ‘good mischief’ vibes the BRP boys’ way.

Was he going to go back to being Scythas? -- Maybe for a visit now and again.

Did he want to live in the Mortal Realm? -- NO. Give up living in luxury for tepid baths and outhouses? Not this millennia.

Could he go back to using mortals for his own gain? -- Yeah, he really could. Hello? Still a god.

Did he want to fuck Cupid? -- YES, and YES.

Huh. That seemed to be all the big points. Strife could work out everything else later. The Mischief god swung his feet a little. A new him, a new look, a new year... Things were definitely looking shiny.


.:Previous:. | .:Next:.

.:Back to the Den:.

 

To receive email for new and updated fiction:
Click here to join twin_swords
Click to join twin_swords