Work Text:
Visiting Relatives: Uncle Accord
By Scribe
Bliss flashed into the Halls of War, sending gold and silver sparks to the upper corners of the room in a starburst effect. Joxer looked up from the scroll he was reading. "You're getting good with that."
"I hope so, as much time as I've spent practicing it. Whatcha doing?" He strode over and dropped down to sit beside Joxer on the sofa, tossing an arm casually around his neck. Bliss was one of the few males in creation who could do this without worrying about how Ares would react.
"What else? Reading petitions. I felt a little selfish, asking my followers to submit anything involving more than ten people in writing, but Ares pointed out that it was the only way to tell the really SERIOUS pleas from the ones that were just whining. I mean, I have one here..." he shuffled through the pile on the low table before him, "from a girl in Thebes who believes that the entire population of town has declared war on her--because she was only chosen a handmaiden and not the Queen of the last Festival of Apollo."
"Want me to zap her for you?"
Joxer smiled at him. "Thanks, but she's going to have to learn to deal with disappointment without the personal attention of the God of Joy." Bliss held up his thumb and forefinger an inch apart. "No, not even a little, unless you normally would in your course of duty. We don't want to spoil them." He shook his head. "If I didn't know that Ares is alive and kicking, I'd think I just channeled his spirit."
Bliss poked him in the side. "They say that old married couples grow more alike." He slouched back, then gazed around the room. Voice casual, he said, "Where is everybody?"
Joxer was a lot less naive than he had been when he first came to Olympus. He smiled. "He's out in the garden."
Bliss turned wide blue eyes on him. "Grandpa Reese?"
Joxer rolled his eyes, but didn't call him on his transparent ruse. "Ares is trying to drill some strategy into the head of a particularly dimwitted warlord. I just hope he doesn't do it literally. He can always replace the warlord, but he knows I hate it when he comes home with icky stuff on his clothes. I meant Accord."
"Oh." Bliss stood up (again casually) and stretched. There was a lot of him to stretch. He'd inherited most of his father's physical traits--thus he was big, buff, blonde, and gorgeous.
Most blond hair got darker with age, but Bliss had flaunted the trend, his hair paling to flaxen. At the age of twelve he'd allowed Imp to give him a haircut. Aphrodite had almost fainted at the sight of the butchered hairdo, and had swiftly tried to even it up, cutting it even shorter. The result had been a cap of soft, springy curls, and he'd liked it so much that he'd kept it that way, never letting it grow out more than a couple of inches. Some wags on Olympus had dubbed Accord and Bliss 'The Long and the Short of It'.
"I think I'll go chew the fat with him for awhile," said Bliss negligently.
"Uh-huh." Joxer watched him amble out, then turned back to his scroll with a smile, murmuring, "Right. And maybe there'll be some nibbling, too?"
The garden was a relic of the long ago age when Aphrodite had been staying with Ares during her pregnancy with Cupid. When she'd returned to her own temple she'd taken the baby, since Zeus had decreed that Cupid belonged to the House of Love, and Ares had allowed it to fall into neglect. Then Joxer had saved Ares life, being gravely wounded in the process, and Ares had brought him home to recuperate. Ares needed healing himself--of a different sort--and so Joxer stayed.
Some on Olympus had cast a jaundice eye on the marriage, but others had known from the beginning that it was meant to be--and Bliss was one of those. Given his godhood he could tell when people were happy, no matter what front they put up, and he know that Ares was happy when he was with Joxer.
Joxer was a natural nurturer, and he soon had the abandoned garden blooming again. It was said that there were only two gardens that could compete with it--Gaia's, and Hera's--and no one would be dumb enough to try to compare them point-for-point. As he walked down the hall to the exit, Bliss reflected that he had spent some of his happiest hours playing here with Impetua--and Accord.
He stepped out into the warmth and fragrance of the garden, eyes darting alertly in search. He spotted his best friend stretched out in a particularly sunny patch near the back wall, and went to him, moving silently. As he neared, he slowed, studying the scene before him.
A stranger coming upon this scene might have been startled, because Accord lay so still that you had to look closely to see that he was still breathing. He was lying on his stomach, arms folded before him, head turned so that one cheek rested on his forearms. Bliss paused a few feet away, admiring him.
Accord had gotten height from both his fathers--he was the same height as Bliss now, which meant that he'd probably end up the taller of the two. But instead of being lanky, like Joxer, or big, like Ares, Accord was slim, but fit. Bliss could recall one time when Accord had bloodied the nose of another godling who'd called him 'willowy'.
No one was entirely sure where Accord's hair color had come from. Both his parents had dark hair, but Accord's was as black, shiny, and soft as seal fur. It was considerably longer, though. Accord had confounded Ares by stubbornly refusing to have his haircut--pretty much from the time he had learned that HE could say 'no' just as easily as his parents could. The last time they'd measured it was longer than Bliss' arm--fingers outstretched. That meant that the wavy mass usually swirled around the base of his shoulder blades, but reached almost to the base of his spine when it was wet.
Right now the hair was in one long, thick braid--and Accord, eyes closed, was chewing on the end of it. He smiled, eyes still closed, and mumbled around the tress, "Hi, Bliss."
"I know you didn't open your eyes, so how did you know it was me?" Bliss dropped down to sit, cross-legged, in front of him.
"I always know when it's you."
Bliss reached down and tugged the braid so that the damp end was pulled away. "Stop that. You remember how miserable Mjau was when he got hairballs." He stroked the length of the braid, feeling the silky texture of the careful weaving. "And how long have you been laying in the direct sunlight?"
Accord opened his eyes, only to roll them. His eyes were as dark as his hair. "You're not my mother, Bliss. Come to think of it, technically I don't HAVE a mother. I guess you could say I have a maternally INCLINED parent, but Joxer couldn't qualify as a mother because he's never given me the 'if So-and-So jumped off the edge of Olympus would YOU have to jump, too' lecture, and I think that's required for..."
"There's no question that you're related to Joxer SOMEHOW," said Bliss wryly. "And you're not going to distract me with babble. How long?"
"Did you realize that with you sitting there, I can see right up your kilt?"
"Like we never skinny dipped together. What does the sundial say?"
Bliss glanced at the alabaster sundial that had been a tenth anniversary gift to Ares and Joxer from Aphrodite. "Quarter after eleven."
Accord rolled over on his back and sat up. "About fifteen minutes, and you're right. Time for me to get into the shade." They both got up and went to sit side-by-side beneath a slender cherry tree. "You know, my complexion is a royal pain in the ass sometimes. I sure do wish I could tan like you and your Dad." Accord seemed to have only two shades--creamy white, or strawberry pink. He could go from one to the other in only a few minutes, if he wasn't careful.
"I think you look cool," Bliss said firmly.
"Really? I don't look--I dunno, washed out?"
"No. I mean, you aren't as pale as a Bacchi." He elbowed Accord. "And at least you don't get freckles, like Whim."
Accord chuckles. "He's got so many that it ALMOST looks like a tan." Accord leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, and his chin in his hands. "So, whassup?"
"Oh, nothing in particular. Just dropped by to shoot the breeze. Imp got a tattoo."
Accord grinned. "Coolness! I knew she would, sooner or later. I'm thinking about getting one, too, but I'll probably wait till I'm about eighteen. Might as well spare Daddy Jox's heart."
Bliss planted his palms flat behind him, slouching back. "What are you going to get?"
"Something to do with my godhood. I'm thinking about a little set of scales..." he touched his bare chest, "right over the heart."
Bliss nodded. "Good one. I'd like a tattoo, but I have no idea what to get. I haven't figured out anything that would be appropriate for my divinity. I mean, blue birds and rainbows are just too damn wimpy."
"Maybe a dog?"
"A dog? Where did you come up with that off-the-wall suggestion?"
"Don't look at me--I got it from your own dad. Strife came back from the future once saying something about 'happiness is a warm puppy'. Made sense, in a senseless kind of way."
"I'll probably just have to go for geometric. I can't even use symbols like glyphs or runes, since it would be kind of rude for a Greek god to mark himself with a foreign symbol, dontcha think?"
"Just a bit. I think even Strife might draw the line at that. I have an idea, maybe a ring of stars..." he touched a fingertip to Bliss' bicep, "here."
Bliss became very quiet and still, looking down at where the pale finger rested against the tan skin of his arm. After a moment he glanced up, and saw that a blush was coloring Accord's cheeks. Accord dropped his hand, and Bliss immediately missed the touch. Accord leaned forward, hunching over, and started playing with his braid.
Silence lay over the garden, thick and warm, but not exactly uneasy. After a moment Accord, not looking away from the tip of his braid, said, "Bliss?"
"Yeah?"
Accord was quiet for a little longer. Just when Bliss was beginning to formulate what he would say, Accord said, "Something's gonna happen between us, isn't it?"
Bliss bit his lip. There was no mistaking what Accord meant. He said slowly, "You're kind of young, Cord."
"I know. I didn't mean right now. I didn't even mean soon. But--eventually." Now he looked at Bliss. His dark gaze was shy, but open, and you could see a lot of Joxer in his expression. "Right?"
Bliss nodded. "I think so." He nodded again, and there was conviction in his voice. "Yeah--if you want it." Accord's answering smile was blinding, and Bliss felt a tiny bit of coldness, an apprehensive chill that he hadn't even been aware of, melt away in the warmth. "Just not now."
"I know." Accord's tone was cheerful. "I'm not ready yet. But I WILL be." He bumped Bliss with his shoulder, and wiggled his eyebrows. "I know where Scribe keeps her slash stash." Bliss collapsed with laughter. Accord hopped to his feet. "C'mon, Old Man. One of the priests made a tipsy trifle last night, and he uses LOTS of wine." Bliss stood and they walked in, side-by-side, moving so close that their arms brushed.
In the cave of the Fates, Lachesis smiled as two shining threads were woven just a little closer...
The End