And so, the ship moved on to Colchis throughout the night, and there was no sadder vessel on the seas. Even Eris, the Goddess of discord, looked down on their journey and spread her power out throughout their sails, soaking up their agony like nectar. She didn’t even need to sow the seeds of dissonance, and yet she reaped and dined on their tears.
Hecate, sealing off the corners of her heart like a living tomb.
Aeëtes, believing that Hecate thought she didn’t deserve the disappointment of his love.
And Pelias, who stared at the starry sky, watching Erebus and Nyx paint the cosmos with darkness. He offered up a silent prayer to the goddess, that she might blanket their agony with starlight and ease their pains in the tranquility of nightfall.
22
The next morning, the sunrise seemed earlier and brighter than ever. Aeëtes blinked his weary eyes open, cursing Helios—because god or mortal, no son could escape being woken up too early at the request of his father. They were close to Colchis—he recognized the horizon and the change in the terrain on shore—but even with Poseidon’s help, they had at least another day or two of travel. Aeëtes had never been particularly good at naval navigation, and he wasn’t in the mood to start now.
He had been up until the very edges of the stars had begun to bleed, slowly, one-by-one being recalled back into Nyx’s bosom. Aeëtes reckoned that he had only been asleep for a few hours. He had fallen asleep in the galley, wedged between coils of moldy rope and barrels of water. The atmosphere around him was damp and still chilly in the early light, making his bones ache. He sat up and stretched, trying to shake the wine-addled thoughts from his mind. He had remained hidden below deck after overhearing Hecate and Pelias’s conversation, unable to see the face of another god or mortal while he waited for his pain to shrink enough that it might be hidden. When he stood, a cup fell from somewhere hidden in his chiton, the clay shattering on the floorboards.
“Figures,” Aeëtes mumbled, rubbing a hand over his unshaven face. He didn’t need to catch his reflection in glass or water to know that he looked probably as well-put together as he felt. He stretched his arms out and yawned, hauling himself towards the steps to topside.
Aeëtes blinked in the glimmers of sunlight that were penetrating the galley from the gaps in the wood, hardly paying attention and eyes half-closed as he stumbled forward, crashing right into a soft, warm body. He knew before he even looked down or opened his eyes that it was Hecate. They both pulled back from each other in a rush, a mess of sleepy limbs, insecurities, and half-asleep minds. Both of them quickly readjusted themselves, straightening their hair and untangling their clothes. The tension between the two of them seemed to choke the air itself, chasing the chill away and replacing it with a current that they could feel under their skin.
“Excuse me,” Hecate finally offered with a calm voice. She still looked the picture of stoicism, her head always held high without reproach, but Aeëtes could see the conflict hidden deep within her eyes. He felt clumsy next to her, stumbling from the depths of a ship, hungover, his hair half tied-up and unshaven.
No wonder she thinks that she deserves better.His inner critique was apparently not hungover and had reported to work with the sunrise. He wanted to blame his father. Aeëtes nodded, holding a hand out towards the steps, ushering her to go ahead of him. Hecate didn’t move.
She had slept poorly, also finishing off the bottle of wine that Pelias had left in her chamber. It had taken a little more magic than she would’ve liked to admit to perk up her tired appearance. Her thoughts had been consumed with the words that Pelias had left with her. As the night turned and she felt Nyx and Erebus in the skies, high above them, her mind had drifted to the thought of Aeëtes. Of strong, obstinate Aeëtes, and what it would be like to have him in her bed on nights like this. She had to push the idea from her consciousness, almost violently, as his presence even in her dreams made the echo in her heart’s chamber increase tenfold. As if his joy shined a light on how vast and empty parts of her felt.
When she had crashed into him moments ago, it had felt like a balm. Even a sudden, messy, passing touch of him ripped through her, and she had to claw back a sigh of relief. She studied him in the early morning light, sleep-mussed, and he looked…safe.
You would never deserve him.Hecate nearly felt tears spring to her eyes in response to her own inner voice, its biting words never far off.
Aeëtes’s mind began to clear the longer that they stared at each other, the few brief seconds stretching into what felt like hours. Heat and anger growing in his stomach, wondering if she felt the same and refused to move. She simply stared at him, judging him, he falsely assumed. His heart twisted in his chest as he realized that it didn’t dampen a single shred of affection he had for her. Finally, he could take it no more, and his voice was low when he spoke.
“Would you not prefer to go on deck with Pelias?” There was a slow-building anger in his voice that Hecate didn’t know if she had ever heard. “Seeing as you don’t deserve my company.” Hecate recoiled as if she had been struck, feeling like his words were a stab to her gut.
“What?” She couldn’t stop it now, and she cursed herself as a tear fell down her cheek. Her reaction froze Aeëtes on the spot; he was ready to maroon himself when he saw her cry. He realized in that moment that he had drastically misunderstood the conversation—and had just sounded like a pompous, arrogant ass.
“I-I heard you last night.” Aeëtes held his hands out to her, just barely out of reach of her. His body language shifted as he leaned down to see her face more clearly, pleading. “You told Pelias that you don’t deserve…this, that you deserve something better.” He paused, not knowing what to call them. Hecate paled, an impressive feat for her already Underworld-approved complexion, and she shook her head vigorously.
“No!” She nearly yelled it, unable to suffer the pained expression on his face for another moment. “You’ve got it all wrong.”
She paused, the explanation for her insecurities frozen on her tongue and stuck in her throat like she was choking. Aeëtes waited, his face gentled. Hecate took a deep breath, calling on every last piece of strength that she had; she turned her face from him as she spoke, unable to say it while looking at his eyes. When she started again, her voice was both shaky and resolute.
“I don’t deserveyou,Aeëtes.” Hecate swallowed thickly, and Aeëtes’s shock blanketed his face as he almost physically recoiled. “I can’t stay in the mortal world forever, and you have responsibilities in Colchis—”
“I would burn Colchis if you asked me,” Aeëtes cut her off, closing the gap between them and grabbing hold of her arms. His eyes were pleading, desperate, but Hecate screwed her eyes shut tighter and shook her head.
“That’s the point! You would. I know you would, and I…” Hecate paused for a moment to keep her tears at bay. “I don’t deserve that. You would never be happy in the Underworld—”
“I’ve never been, so that’s impossible to say,” Aeëtes negated, his grip tightening on her ever so slightly. He could never hurt her, and the touch felt so devastatingly safe that Hecate started to cry harder, her head falling back.
“No! You wouldn’t be. Y-you love the sun, the sea, the things that are at odds with my very existence. It’s dark,Iam dark, my heart is—”
“Perfect,” Aeëtes finished for her, and Hecate nearly flung herself out of his touch, but he pulled her closer to him, wrapping them together as his arms found their way around her body. Her hands fell limp at her sides, like the conversation was taking all of her strength and Aeëtes held her up.
“My acolytes…the women, Aeëtes, please try to understand. If I took a consort, if I loved again—”
“Again?” Aeëtes knew that there was something in Hecate’s past, but she had never elaborated. She shook her head once, straightening up a little in his hold but not moving.
“It doesn’t matter. You’re not listening to me! I would lose the respect of all of those women,every one of them in Greecewho prays to me. How can you not see what position that puts me in? I can’t do this!” Aeëtes felt his own chest beginning to heave as he reeled against her statements.
“Then I’ll be your lover, Hecate. Don’t do this. I’ll take anything that you can give me, and I’ll give you everything. I don’t need to marry you. I don’t need to be a consort. I hate titles anyway.” His attempt at humor was brief, cutting through the building electricity around them. Hecate only smiled sadly for one fleeting moment before he watched her sink back into her convictions.
