“Because I am ugly. The same reason why my mother Hera threw me out of Olympus. Do you not get it? No one wants me around. It is a good thing because I do not want them around also.” He shrugged.
“I want to be around you. Seriously. Please let me be your friend,” you begged.
He sighed. “Fine.”
You smiled widely, brighter than you’d ever had.
Since then you’re always where Hephaestus is. Sometimes he still pretend that he’s still annoyed with you, but you knew he’s warming up to you. You swear you caught him smile when you crack up a joke, but he blushes and deny it everytime you pointed it out.
A little while longer, when two of you grew like a normal adult gods, you became closer than you ever were. You matured, but you still bug him and he still pretend to be mad about it. You were almost inseparable.
One time, you woke up to Hephaestus shaking you.
“Y/N, wake up!” he whispered.
“Hephaestus it is the middle of the night,” you groaned.
“Come, I will show you something,” he said.
You stood up and let Hephaestus drag you wherever he was taking you. He took you to his grotto. At first, you didn’t knew what changed—but then you saw it. A furnace.
You swam closer to it to admire it, and you couldn’t help but to stare at it. As an Oceanid who lives in the ocean, this is the very first time you saw fire. The flames danced around in shades of red, blue, and yellow. You tried to touch it but it burt your fingers.
Hephaestus chuckled. “You cannot touch it, dummy. It will burn you.”
“This is fire,” you gasped. “How did you manage to bring that here?”
He shrugged. “I was walking on the beach when I saw a campfire. Probably left by some fisherman. I put a live coal on a clam and brought that here. I was surprised that it did not die in the water.”
“You can touch it?” you asked.
He nodded. To prove it to you, he put his hand over the fire.
You gasped. “Maybe that is what you are the god of!”
He frowned and shrugged. “Maybe. But that is not what I wanted to show you.”
He turned to the worktable. He scurry for a moment before he brought out a dagger. He came to you and placed it delicately in your hands.
You studied the blade on your palm. It’s a silver pointed dagger, its edge precise and sharp. The handle is made of pearls, and it seemed to sparkle with the light coming from the furnace. You ran your fingers on the cold blade of the dagger. It’s beautiful.
“You made this?” you said breathlessly.
Hephaestus smiled. “I made that with the fire. I figure if you put a piece of metal over the fire and shaped it with a hammer, you will be able to make weapons with it.”
“This is beautiful,” you gasped.
“That is yours now.”
You faced him. “That is what you are the god of. You are the God of the Forge.”
He scratched the back of his head. “I am no god.”
“But you are a god! A son of Zeus and Hera, the King and Queen of Olympus!”
“Just Hera actually—”
“You got what I meant!”
Hephaestus sighed and slumped on a stool. “I do not want to go back to Olympus to claim my godhead. Those are the people who threw me just because they think I am ugly. I was threw out of Olympus for a reason. I do not belong there. I like it here.”
ɪx | the last time ﹙ʜᴇᴘʜᴀᴇsᴛᴜs﹚
Start from the beginning
