Page 14 of Apollo's Courtesan

APOLLO

We left the archery clearing, but as it was such a lovely day upon the earth, we decided to not yet return to Olympus, and strolled instead through this favored wilderness of my sister’s.

Far from where any of her hunting arrows might strike, mind you.

“She is a good sister and loves you dearly,” Dax said, hand entwined with mine as we neared a bubbling brook that filled the forest around us with a natural hypnotic calm.

It was beautiful here. One of the reasons Artemis liked its nearby areas for hunting was because it was far from any settlements, which meant fewer opportunities for another Acteon to discover her bathing. It was also a favored spot for us to meet when we wanted company only with each other.

That she had given her blessing, in her own way, for Dax to be here too, meant a great deal.

“I love her dearly too,” I said. “As two halves made more whole together, we are often of the same mind. Not to say we have never disagreed or fought. We are in that way like neighboring city-states, sometimes too alike to not devolve into disagreement and—”

A rapid-fire vision assaulted my senses, taking over all I could see. The calm forest and its brook became neighboring city-states, just as I had thoughtlessly conjured, prompting a prophecy of one such disagreement about to erupt.

I saw them squabbling over trade, a misunderstanding, an accidental death that escalates into war, and that war spills over into other city-states, other nations, and—

“Apollo!”

All triggered by something as trivial as a traveling merchant setting up shop in a local’s stall.

Mortals.

“Is everything all right?” Dax pulled me from my vision with a squeeze of my hand, and his other hand wrapped around the back of my neck in preparation to embrace me should I need something more to ground my footing.

I did not need protection. I did not need a warrior at my side or a shield in front of me. It did not matter if Dax could hit the center of an archery target to rival me and my sister’s talents. Yet he acted as protector of me purely on instinct, as anyone would for a treasured companion. “Being the god of prophecy has its drawbacks,” I explained. “I see the potential for war. I must intervene. Now.” I pried his fingers from my neck with delicate care and brought both his hands in front of me to lift them to my lips.

“Is it serious?” he asked.

“No more than usual. If only you knew how frequently your cities and nations are on the brink of war that could rival the decimation of the Trojans.”

“I think I would prefer to not know that,” Dax said. “And I am sorry you do.”

“Someone must, for if such devastation can be avoided with the smallest… nudge, I must act. Easier before things escalate, and my fellow gods and I start picking sides again. Shall I return you to Olympus?” I asked, lowering his hands between us, but still holding them, still content to be in contact.

“Will you be long?”

“I do not think so. I will be finished before the sun sets.” I nodded toward where it hung in the sky, pulled by my driverless chariot.

“Then let me stay,” Dax beseeched. “Return to me here. It is lovely, and I do not mind waiting for you with such breathtaking views as my company.”

His handsome face, warm eyes, long locks of chestnut brown, and the figure of him so striking in his short, one-shoulder tunic, made me certain that Dax was the more breathtaking view.

“Then that is what I shall do. Await my return.”

I flew off, disguising myself once I reached my destination, and sought to simply guide the wayward merchant to a different stall. A simple thing, but one that would affect the ripples of devastation that could have followed.

Afterward, I had a new vision of the same city-states in peaceful accord. Content that I had succeeded, I returned to the forest. As guessed, the sun was low but not yet set.

I landed a ways off so I could approach Dax from afar and enjoy watching him. He had traveled a bit from where I’d left him, down the bank of the brook, skipping stones and balancing on larger rocks and tree stumps, as he basked in the beauty of a summer eve.

Again, I thought, he was more the beauty than the scenery. His strong limbs and broad shoulders. The curves of his calves and breadth of his thighs. His one visible nipple from how he wore his chiton over one shoulder, showing how pert it was from the coming coolness of night, how ripe to be brushed against with the pad of a finger and brought to further hardness.

My loins ached for him, but more importantly, my heart did. I had to listen to my heart. I had to take my time. If something was to stand between us and any lasting bliss, let it not this time be me.

Dax leapt from one rock to another along the bank, but the second one proved loose. He teetered, pitching precariously forward to plummet into the brook’s waters—

Only for a strong wind to blow through the trees. Dax’s teetering forward became a topple backward instead, and he stumbled off the rock onto solid ground. He laughed as if he had never been in danger.

---