When I opened my eyes, I knew I was in a dream.
Now, I haven't always been the brightest bulb in the box. I can admit that—but generally speaking, when you fall asleep in the lair of a millennia-old monster and wake up to the smell of cinnamon and the sound of a lyre being plucked gently, it's pretty easy to make the call.
I looked around. I was sitting in one of those old Southern-style gazebos. The ones from around the Civil War, with white marble columns, bubbling fountains, and pretty flowers that spanned every color in the rainbow. I vaguely remembered my Social Studies teacher telling me that the South had strategically placed all these beautiful gardens in their states to distract people from the cruelty of war.
It always rubbed me the wrong way, knowing that all those soldiers were getting exploded by cannonballs just so rich people could sit in places like this, have crumpets, and talk about the war like it was some faraway thing that no one cared about. I turned my gaze away from the beautiful garden. In front of me, a table was set with silverware, china cups, and a steaming pot of tea whose fragrance shifted—sometimes it was cinnamon, or jasmine— other times, it was mint.
There were plates of scones, cookies, muffins, fresh butter, and jam in front of me, arranged in a little display that was in the shape of a rose. Everything looked super expensive—the kind of expensive where I didn't even want to look for too long, let alone touch. "I'm glad you could join me," A delicate voice slipped around my senses, breaking my concentration.
A woman was sitting in front of me—when I noticed her for the first time, I forgot my name. I forgot where I was. I forgot how to speak in complete sentences. I even forgot how to breathe. She was wearing a white satin dress and her hair was curled in a cascade of ringlets. Her face was the most beautiful face I'd ever seen, complete with perfect makeup, dazzling eyes, and a smile that could've lit up the dark side of the moon.
Pick the most beautiful actress you can think of. The woman was ten times more beautiful than that. Pick your favorite hair color, eye color, whatever. The woman had that. When she smiled at me, for just a moment, she kind of looked like Megan Fox. Then, like this model I used to have a crush on back in fifth grade. Then, a girl I'd seen at the train station earlier this year.
And then, well, you get the idea. She was a kaleidoscope of everything I thought I'd ever wanted. "My name is Aphrodite," She continued, blissfully unaware of my inability to think. I took a deep breath. "You are dreaming, as I'm sure you've realized."
"Yes, my lady," I ground out.
My [Gilded Tongue] perk activated in the top right of my vision. Feelings of tranquility streaked over my nervousness like markers on a whiteboard, and it felt a bit easier to breathe. It felt less like I was talking to a celebrity and more like I was just talking to a really hot girl.
Sure, my chest was still buzzing with anxiety—it felt like someone had hooked my heart up to a car battery —but the feeling was still more manageable than it'd been a few minutes ago. Aphrodite smiled, leaning forward and gently entangling her fingers. Her features shifted again, and she looked like a younger Jennifer Connelly.
My heart jumped in place a few times.
"I'm sure you have questions. You've been thrust into quite the situation."
"A few," I admitted.
Aphrodite smiled at me again, patiently, as she nibbled on one of the scones. She waved her hand, and pink strings spooled out of the table, rolling the plate over to me. I politely declined.
"Why would you go to the Lord of the Dead for help? Piper told me a bit about her situation, but it still feels a little out of left field to go to him, and by extension, me."
"Well, that part's simple enough. Your father and I are good friends; he informed me of your quest, and I knew I could pull some strings to make Piper's path intersect with yours. Hades was the one who gave the quest, so it only seemed natural for me to ask him if she could join," Aphrodite explained, all with a small smile on her face, "There's someone after her, too, as I'm sure you know."
"But…" I trailed off. I didn't want to offend her.
"You can speak freely," Aphrodite said, still munching. "This dream is for your benefit, after all. I'm here because I feel sorry for you." I somehow doubted that, but I wasn't going to pass up an opportunity to ask my questions.
"I'm pretty green, too. I've only been a demigod, well, knowingly, for two weeks. Why would you stick her with me? Like, is it really a good idea for us to travel together?" Aphrodite's eyes gleamed. "No."
"No?" My stomach dropped all the way to my feet.
"No. It isn't a good idea," Aphrodite sighed. She gently set her teacup down. "It's a horrible idea, in fact. You're both new demigods, with virtually no experience or instinct. If you're confused and she's confused, all you'll do is slow each other down and get each other hurt. In a normal situation, I wouldn't want anything even resembling this. I'd prefer if Piper found her own way to camp, on her own time —without involving you—or anyone else for that matter. To tell you the truth, I'm not doing this because I think you're capable."
"Oh," I felt like I'd been slapped across the face.
"I'm sure you're quite capable," Aphrodite added. "But you'd need to be more than just capable to survive this. I don't mean to comment on—or believe in—you. Instead, I'm throwing my support behind your father. It's a political move. If this goes poorly, and you and Piper do end up hurt, then it'll be a lot easier for me to argue my case to the rest of the council if I have the support of your father. That's something he understands as well. I needed his permission to force this intersection, after all."
"Oh," I repeated. Nothing about the tanned man I'd met a few weeks ago screamed shrewd to me, but I figured he had a dark side, too, like most gods. Even the nice ones had their own agendas.
"Sorry," Aphrodite flashed me a dazzling smile that turned my insides into jelly. "But, for what it's worth, I believe you'll do just fine."
"Are you saying that to spare my feelings?" Aphrodite's smile turned dangerously thin. "Is that a question you truly want an answer to, demigod?"
"Nope," I shook my head. "Well, forgive me if I overstep my bounds, here, but I find it a little hard to believe that my uncle would just accept your request out of the kindness of his heart. Not that I'm insinuating that he's a bad person—he's keeping my mother safe— but even then, he's doing that on the condition that I do something for him. See what I mean?"
"Good question. You're quite smart," Aphrodite complimented, pursing her lips and dabbing at her face with an embroidered napkin. She took great care to not smudge her lipstick. "Your uncle and I did indeed strike a deal. In return for Piper's safety, he asked me to lend him some of my expertise regarding a security matter around his palace."
"Ah," I said, a little confused, but willing to drop the matter for now. "Why is, uh, that particular person chasing Piper?" Dream or not, I wanted to avoid saying any names.
"Well, let's just say that someone out there wants to get back at me for something. This person has no morals and would stoop to any level to do so," Aphrodite frowned. "Including killing my daughter."
"Why does he want to get back at you?"
"Ah. I assumed you would ask," The frown on her face deepened— almost as if my predictability had offended her. Like my alleged stupidity was somehow a personal offense.
"Tell me, Percy, do you happen to know why most gods rebel?"
"Um, they don't like the life they were given?" I guessed. I mean, I knew I'd go crazy if I was assigned a role and expected to carry it out for all of eternity. Funnily enough, that sort of annoyance and anger at life was a trait that I was beginning to see in demigods, too. It was all just a continuous cycle of people getting mad at their fate. Gods hated the life they were forced to live, demigods hated the responsibility they were burdened with—it felt like the only party winning in this situation were the monsters that got to fight both. My stomach tightened with phantom pain, and I saw Luke's face in my mind's eye. Right. Even the monsters weren't living their best lives.
"Partially. I won't bore you with the double talk and riddles. When I first got to Olympus, every single male god instantly fell in love with me. They all wanted to make me their wife—Lady Hera, feeling that her godly family was about to unravel, was determined to prevent that. She ordered the other Olympians to silence themselves. As the goddess of marriage, she felt an obligation to pick the perfect husband for me and proclaimed that such a match was her son, Hephaestus," Aphrodite explained, rolling her eyes.
"My husband redefines the word workaholic. I've never talked to him for more than five minutes. On top of all that, as the goddess of love, I can quite literally sense his feelings—he truly never has been and never will be capable of loving something. Well, something living, that is. All he cares about are his creations."
"Oh. Well, I'm sorry to—"
"—in a way, it's quite nice," Aphrodite continued, with an exaggerated sigh. Pink energy sizzled around a fan, and it hopped into the air. The fan unfurled and began fanning the goddess as she leaned back in her chair, twirling a strand of hair around her finger. "I don't have to worry about him actually making a move on me. He'd much rather tinker in his workshop, or build automatons. That's for more interesting to him than idle conversation."
"I mean, I guess—"
"—he isn't very lustful, either, as far as I can tell. I could cut my top open in front of him and that wouldn't make a difference, and that's saying something. My breasts are perfect. Literally perfect," Aphrodite blew a raspberry and grabbed her chest. "Still, though. I am love incarnate! Trapped in a marriage with a charisma black hole. Put yourself in my shoes. After thousands and thousands of years, where do you think that left me?" I caught my gaze before it drifted down too much. I just wanted to see what the hype was about! My cheeks burned as a smirk grew on Aphrodite's face.
"So, all those myths—"
"History, young demigod, as you may find, is horribly misconstrued," Aphrodite's good humor faded instantly. Her eyes flashed dangerously and the plates on the table rattled. I reminded myself I was talking to a real goddess, here. Sure, she looked like my all-time crush, but she could turn me into a snail and pulverize me if I pushed her too far. "Mortal minds are easy to manipulate. You fools are willing to believe anything."
"What about all of your godly children? And your demigod ones?" Aphrodite laughed. It was a light tinkling sound, like silver bells. Somehow, though, it didn't sound as relaxing as I'd expected. It felt more like a pretty tornado siren. "Percy, if Athena can make kids from her mental connection with mortals, wouldn't you agree that the goddess of love can do the same? As for my godly children, I created them myself. Once upon a time, I did have a great deal of power. I was made out of the remains of Ouranos, you know."
"Made them?" "I am a goddess. I can create children with my power," Aphrodite explained. Her tone was airy, if not a little condescending. I felt like she saw me as nothing more than a little puppy, wagging my tail, and trying to impress someone. "Try not to think too hard about it. Godly powers can be confusing."
"So, you haven't gone around, uh," I touched my two index fingers together a few times. "No," Aphrodite laughed, leaning into her chair. "I have not had sex with an Olympian or a mortal and I do not plan on it. It does not appeal to me."
"That…" I trailed off, unable to find the right words. "Okay, so, what, you rejected a few people, and they started telling everyone you're, um…"
"A whore? A slut? A good-for-nothing—"
"Right. Exactly. Isn't that kind of contradictory, though? If even more people are lining up to, um, ask you out, but nobody actually gets to date you, wouldn't that whole situation just kill the rumor on its own?"
"You might think so, Percy, but you must remember: there are many ways to trap an immortal," Aphrodite muttered. "The easiest is to sap away their power. Most times, the power of an immortal is linked directly to the belief in them and their respective domains."
"So, if everyone thinks you're a disloyal wife who sleeps around with other people…"
"Even if it isn't true, they have no verifying it. So, even it's little by little, they lose their faith in love. Their faith in me," Aphrodite finished for me. "With no real love in my own life and little to no support from mortals, I have but a fraction of my power. When you're powerless, you don't have much of a choice but to bend to the whims of those who are powerful, hence the need for, well, all of this. I'm doing the best I can with what I have."
"I'm…sorry to hear that."
"Are you?" Aphrodite paused for a moment, "Say, Percy, would you be open to making a deal with me?"
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This scene was a chance for me to dig into Aphrodite's character beyond the usual "goddess of love" trope. I wanted her to feel equal parts enchanting, intimidating, and politically shrewd—because gods, after all, don't just represent ideals; they also scheme like the rest of us. If you noticed Percy stumbling over his words and thoughts, that was intentional—I tried to capture what it would feel like for a mortal teenager to sit across from a literal embodiment of desire.
Let me know what you thought of this interaction: did Aphrodite come across more sympathetic, manipulative, or both? Your feedback helps me decide how much weight to give her role in the story moving forward.
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