Dating The Son of Zeus

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Sitting on the stone bench I had a clear view of the massive fountain in front of me. I watched as the crystal blue water shot up high into the air, and the fell like rain down into the base. It was mesmorizing. A light breeze carried the calming scent of lavender through the air. It ruffeled my hair and tickled my arms. Looking up, I could see the bright, cloudless sky. Vast and neverending, it seemed to go on forever. I was broken out of my tranquility when an all to familiar sound caught my ears. The sound of wings. Sighing heavily I waited for what I was sure was to come. Too soon I saw him, flying towards me. He spotted me quickly and came straight for me. There was no where to hide, even if I wanted too. When he was within a few yards he dropped gracefully to the ground, walking towards me with a confidence that he shouldn't of had.

His golden hair caught the sun and allowed it to shine. I watched as it bounced with every step that he took. He walked with an air of confidence, as if anyone who layed eyes on him should consider themselves lucky, but I knew better. His amber eyes burned with an intensity that I had never seen matched. As he neared me, it was easier to see that he was shorter than me, but than again, most people were. When he was finally just mere feet from me he stopped. Standing straight as could be, he looked me in the eyes, something which if I were my father I would have scolded him for. After a short second he stiffly bent at the waist and bowed.

"Your highness," he said in his most formal voice, but it wasn't difficult to hear the strain in it.

"Rise Hermes," I said dismissively.

Straightening up he looked at me. "Your presence is requested in the throne room."

I looked away from him and back to the fountain. I wanted to get lost in the magic of the water again. I had almost forgotten that he was standing beside me, but of course Hermes couldn't allow that. Clearing his throat he tried again. "I'm sorry to disrupt you, your highness, but your father and mother are both awaiting your presence."

Rolling my eyes I stood. I knew that he would never quit. That was why Hermes was the messanger. He was persistant, if nothing else. He made sure his message was delivered, whether you wanted to hear it or not. "Tell them I am on my way." Nodding once he turned and strode a few paces until his feet lifted off the ground and in a flash, he was gone. I turned and looked back to the fountain one last time before setting off.

Walking through the palace was harder than it seemed. It was a constant set of twists and turns, of stairs and hallways that never seemed to have an ending. I knew my way though and in just a few short minutes I was ouside the throne room. I stood and looked at the large marble doors. I knew what lay beyond them, and it was something that I didn't want to have to face. I turned and looked back the way I had come, I knew what lay the other way. The fountain and the garden. Something with the promise of calm. Through those doors lay the exact opposite. Heaving a sigh I forced myself to push the doors open.

The sight was familiar to me. The room was the same large, bright white it always was. A red carpet was like a trail from me to the two people who sat on the thrones in front of me. Taking another breath, I walked the trail and stopped in front of them. Slowly I bowed. "Father, Mother." I waited, for what I wasn't sure but it was what I always did.

"Oh Hercules," I heard my mother say.

"Rise my son, rise." My father said standing from his seat.

I did as he said and stood straight. I watched as my father walked down the few steps towards me. It was hard not to notice the muscles in his arms and chest that moved as he walked. He wore a bright smile that I knew wasn't something that he did often. When he reached me, he enveloped me in a tight hug. His dark hair clouded my vision, and for the briefest of seconds, it was all I could see. Pulling away he looked at me with his bright gray eyes. They shone with a brightness that never went away. It was always my favorite feature of my father. My mother cut in and pulled me into a warm and gentle embrace. I hugged her back tightly, it had been too long.

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