Prompt 99 - Clamp - "Proper Punishment" - ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
spikespetslayer - myt
Jun. 14th, 2008 11:55 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
dedra.livejournal.com posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
tamingthemuseTitle: Proper Punishment
Fandom: None
Pairing: Hephaestus/Aphrodite
Rating: G
Warnings: mentions of adultery and prostitution
Summary: What is a goddess to do? She has to have the one thing that makes her thrive, even if it upsets her husband.
She walked through the clouds with her long gown trailing among the mists and splendor of the skies. Zephyrus trailed along beside her, blowing storms from the pearlescent soles of her feet and swathing her in his warm breath to prevent her from becoming chilled. It was silly, really; goddesses never became cold or hot, being what they were. They controlled their environment, not the other way around.
She stepped easily from the fog onto the rock that surrounded her home, turning slightly to wave as the west wind took his leave of her. She made her way down the rocky path, floating above the sharp edges and jagged rim of the crater where her husband worked tirelessly, making the bolts that mortals so feared.
She found that silly as well. The gods were nothing to be feared, not even her husband. Or her lover, thinking of it. No one was to be feared since they actually had little to do with the lives of mortals.
It was too bad the mortals didn’t understand or realize it.
She heard the clanging of the anvil long before she saw the red glow of the fires. With a wave of her hand she dispersed the heat and smoke to clearly see the muscled arm as it swung up and over, down and around to mold the electricity into form. It was fascinating, at first, to watch Hephaestus work; that had been eons ago when their bonding was fresh and new and she still wanted his love.
Eons ago.
Her train caught a pebble and knocked it into the pit below, alerting him of her presence. His reaction was immediate and loud. For Zeus’ sake, hadn’t she told him there was no need to yell? A whisper could be clearly heard as loud as a scream in their realm.
“Aphrodite! Show yourself, wife, and attend your husband!”
With a languorous wave, she descended and stood to face the man that she had wed so many years ago. Mortals thought him to be twisted and deformed; their statues depicted him as a hunchbacked dwarf that was ugly beyond compare. This man, however, wasn’t ugly or twisted; he was as beautiful as any other, his muscles and sinews honed to taut perfection from his action with the hammer and anvil. His skin was dark and glistened with the sweat from his toil, something that she once found attractive and wanton. Now—now she reached for others to satisfy her eternal craving for love.
Her nose curled at the scent of his musk before another wave of her hand drove it away. “Yes, Hephaestus. I heard you clearly—there was no need to bellow like a commoner.”
His hand clamped around the alabaster smoothness of her upper arm and dragged her over to the scrying pool that was present with a wish to see. “You have been whoring yourself again, wife. Look—the Greeks have taken up religious prostitution in honor of your inability to remain chaste and committed to me alone.”
She yanked her arm out of his hand and paced to the far end of Hephaestus’ workspace. “We’ve been together for years now, Heph. Most nights I cannot drag you away from your anvil long enough for anything even resembling love play. I need it to survive—you of all people should know that.”
“I despise it when you bastardize my name like that. It is disgusting how you parlay with the mortals and take on their easy ways. Now you’ve infected your son with the same morals, allowing him to actually consort with one. I cannot believe that you have done such a thing.”
She waved her hand languidly in the air and butterflies flew from her fingertips. “It makes him happy. He is the god of love—he needs it as much as I do, perhaps more. Besides, Eros is a big boy—he can take care of himself.”
Hephaestus paced angrily in front of her, his hands clenching and unclenching. “You think only of yourself, wife, and nothing of your son or me. This will change and soon, this I swear.”
“Whatever, Hephaestus. Do what you will—remember, I am a goddess and will do what I please when I please.”
“That you will not do.”
With a growl, he turned to his anvil and picked up a golden piece of metalwork that no craftsman could rival. His approach was menacing and she backed away until her shoulders were pressed against hard rock. It was the most uncomfortable thing that she’d ever felt in her life.
“This, my wife, my beautiful Aphrodite, is something that you cannot possibly escape from. Zeus himself has allowed this and you have no hope to change his mind.”
With a clang that would ring in her ears for eternity, she was clamped into a girdle of gold and magic. She could feel the power of Zeus and Hera as it thrummed through her loins, dimming the constant arousal and desire that she kept trapped within her body, ever ready to release among fellow gods and goddesses and mortals alike. Even she was diminished by the will of the greatest god; she knew that from this chastity belt, there would be no respite.
“Hephaestus, there was no need…” she began.
“There was every need. You will be true to me or to no one. That is Zeus’ word and mine as well.”
He left her standing there, shocked and dismayed. With a chuckle, he threw the heavy hammer onto his shoulder, never looking back at the one person that inspired him and tormented him in the same breath.
Aphrodite slumped against the stones, uncaring that they tore her pristine flesh as she sobbed. Her existence was ruined. Her life was asunder. Flesh could be mended, but this blow was irreparable.
She was a butterfly in a gilded cage, never to fly free again.
Fandom: None
Pairing: Hephaestus/Aphrodite
Rating: G
Warnings: mentions of adultery and prostitution
Summary: What is a goddess to do? She has to have the one thing that makes her thrive, even if it upsets her husband.
She walked through the clouds with her long gown trailing among the mists and splendor of the skies. Zephyrus trailed along beside her, blowing storms from the pearlescent soles of her feet and swathing her in his warm breath to prevent her from becoming chilled. It was silly, really; goddesses never became cold or hot, being what they were. They controlled their environment, not the other way around.
She stepped easily from the fog onto the rock that surrounded her home, turning slightly to wave as the west wind took his leave of her. She made her way down the rocky path, floating above the sharp edges and jagged rim of the crater where her husband worked tirelessly, making the bolts that mortals so feared.
She found that silly as well. The gods were nothing to be feared, not even her husband. Or her lover, thinking of it. No one was to be feared since they actually had little to do with the lives of mortals.
It was too bad the mortals didn’t understand or realize it.
She heard the clanging of the anvil long before she saw the red glow of the fires. With a wave of her hand she dispersed the heat and smoke to clearly see the muscled arm as it swung up and over, down and around to mold the electricity into form. It was fascinating, at first, to watch Hephaestus work; that had been eons ago when their bonding was fresh and new and she still wanted his love.
Eons ago.
Her train caught a pebble and knocked it into the pit below, alerting him of her presence. His reaction was immediate and loud. For Zeus’ sake, hadn’t she told him there was no need to yell? A whisper could be clearly heard as loud as a scream in their realm.
“Aphrodite! Show yourself, wife, and attend your husband!”
With a languorous wave, she descended and stood to face the man that she had wed so many years ago. Mortals thought him to be twisted and deformed; their statues depicted him as a hunchbacked dwarf that was ugly beyond compare. This man, however, wasn’t ugly or twisted; he was as beautiful as any other, his muscles and sinews honed to taut perfection from his action with the hammer and anvil. His skin was dark and glistened with the sweat from his toil, something that she once found attractive and wanton. Now—now she reached for others to satisfy her eternal craving for love.
Her nose curled at the scent of his musk before another wave of her hand drove it away. “Yes, Hephaestus. I heard you clearly—there was no need to bellow like a commoner.”
His hand clamped around the alabaster smoothness of her upper arm and dragged her over to the scrying pool that was present with a wish to see. “You have been whoring yourself again, wife. Look—the Greeks have taken up religious prostitution in honor of your inability to remain chaste and committed to me alone.”
She yanked her arm out of his hand and paced to the far end of Hephaestus’ workspace. “We’ve been together for years now, Heph. Most nights I cannot drag you away from your anvil long enough for anything even resembling love play. I need it to survive—you of all people should know that.”
“I despise it when you bastardize my name like that. It is disgusting how you parlay with the mortals and take on their easy ways. Now you’ve infected your son with the same morals, allowing him to actually consort with one. I cannot believe that you have done such a thing.”
She waved her hand languidly in the air and butterflies flew from her fingertips. “It makes him happy. He is the god of love—he needs it as much as I do, perhaps more. Besides, Eros is a big boy—he can take care of himself.”
Hephaestus paced angrily in front of her, his hands clenching and unclenching. “You think only of yourself, wife, and nothing of your son or me. This will change and soon, this I swear.”
“Whatever, Hephaestus. Do what you will—remember, I am a goddess and will do what I please when I please.”
“That you will not do.”
With a growl, he turned to his anvil and picked up a golden piece of metalwork that no craftsman could rival. His approach was menacing and she backed away until her shoulders were pressed against hard rock. It was the most uncomfortable thing that she’d ever felt in her life.
“This, my wife, my beautiful Aphrodite, is something that you cannot possibly escape from. Zeus himself has allowed this and you have no hope to change his mind.”
With a clang that would ring in her ears for eternity, she was clamped into a girdle of gold and magic. She could feel the power of Zeus and Hera as it thrummed through her loins, dimming the constant arousal and desire that she kept trapped within her body, ever ready to release among fellow gods and goddesses and mortals alike. Even she was diminished by the will of the greatest god; she knew that from this chastity belt, there would be no respite.
“Hephaestus, there was no need…” she began.
“There was every need. You will be true to me or to no one. That is Zeus’ word and mine as well.”
He left her standing there, shocked and dismayed. With a chuckle, he threw the heavy hammer onto his shoulder, never looking back at the one person that inspired him and tormented him in the same breath.
Aphrodite slumped against the stones, uncaring that they tore her pristine flesh as she sobbed. Her existence was ruined. Her life was asunder. Flesh could be mended, but this blow was irreparable.
She was a butterfly in a gilded cage, never to fly free again.
no subject
Date: 2008-06-18 05:18 am (UTC)