The Sun Gave His Body to the Earth
For the first time in his centuries of life, Apollo felt a sense of renewed hope. Gods had failed loves in the past before, but it struck a nerve in the sun deity’s passionate heart. If there was a way to describe the daughter of King Hypseus, a father’s pride and joy, it would be safe to say he had never known any woman like her.
He still remembers that fateful day when he first spotted. The loud roars and screams got his attention from his daily patrol on the chariot, only for him to come across the sight that caught his breath. Cyrene, tall and taut, with her olive skin and raven hair, holding off a fearsome beast from her father’s sheep.
He felt compelled to go down to the mortal realm, led by whatever passion had consumed his heart. Who was she? What was her name? Is she in danger? By the time he arrived to where she stood, a triumphant smirk decorated the young princess’s glowing face at the beast’s retreating form.
Seeing as how she was victorious, Apollo felt a sense of admiration for this mortal. Sure he had been drawn to a few before, ones as memorable and rare as his sweet Hyacinthus, but this woman was not like one he had encountered before. He quickly made himself known, yet at a loss for words, only to be under the guise of a surprised Cyrene.
Growing up, Cyrene knew of the sword and fighting as she did the duties of royalty. It was one of the many freedoms her father let her indulge in, and she was forever grateful to him for it. Yet of all the lessons he taught her, especially reverence for the gods, her mind drew blank at the appearance of Lord Apollo himself.
The flushed cheeks, the wringing of his hands, the stammering compliments. Was the great and powerful Apollo nervous in front of a woman? It was almost an amusing sight to her, and yet a bold thought entered Cyrene’s mind. She slowly walked forward and placed two fingers on his mouth to stop his rambling. She felt him freeze under her touch. “My Lord, I thank you for your arrival and I am honored as well. Yet, if you wanted to call for me again, I’ll be waiting in more presentable circumstances. The soft flutter of her long lashes and coy smile were not lost on him as he saw her saunter away.
Apollo felt frozen in place, but was compelled by her words and actions. He would see her again. He’d make sure of that. But why did he still feel this way as she left? Was it love? Passion? Lust? For one to be the god of prophecy and foresight, how could he not comprehend his own…feelings?
He had to make sense of it. Talk to anybody, anything. He tried to consult with Chiron, his half brothers, the Muses, even resorting to talking to his new half brother Heron. And yet all he was met with was the same amused face from all of them, and the same advice: talk to her, get to know her, woo her. He was a god, a victorious warrior who’s battled against Giants and Hera’s rebellion? Yet he was nervous like a young boy talking to her.
The last bit of encouragement came from his beloved Hyacinthus. Sweet Hyacinthus, the one who almost got away, who he resurrected to love and hold once more. It happened to be one night, as he saw her down below in her silken robes, unbeknownst to Hyacinthus approaching. "You know, watching does nothing. I hear she's actually quite the talker." Apollo blushed at the implications of his blatant feelings. "You know you always have my heart, right? You can never be replaced." The beautiful Spartan prince cupped the son god's face, looking deep into his eyes. "I know that. I know there's love in your heart for both of us. Besides, if she were to come here, she may like it as I have grown to."
Maybe he took it as a sign, or maybe he was compelled by his heart, but Apollo threw caution to the wind and went to her. As time passed, both god and mortal fell for the other. Whenever he visited Cyrene, it was all that occupied his mind. He had never been formally married before, as most of the gods were, and he definitely knew not all marriages were the same experiences. Yet every time he visited the soft and powerful warrior princess, his mind was occupied with only thoughts of her. Her fighting skills, the lithe warrior figure, her dark eyes and tresses, and the softness of her skin and silk when he took her into his arms.
He knew that the love between them would be equally served. Their presence with each other filled their eyes with love, and they humbled themselves amongst each other. Even in the late nights as he held both Cyrene and Hyacinthus, admiring their peaceful sleeping forms, he felt hopeful and grateful in his immortal life. He used to think life and love were futile for him, but now, he dared to have a sliver of respite and hope for the two who held his heart.
