Summary: Nike and Hermes meet upon the aftermath of a battlefield, each occupied with their respective tasks.
Notes: This is the beginning of a Greek Gods AU I've been working on. For the purposes of immersion I've kept the gods' names for the characters rather than their regular names.
So for reference:
Louis is Hermes.
Clementine is Nike.
Read on A03:
He had heard of her before: Nike, the goddess of victory. It was said that she rode a flying chariot above the throes of battle, leading the chosen ones to their destiny while all foes in her path fell at her command. She was certainly magnificent. Her dark ringlets formed a sort of halo for her head against the setting sun. Her gown, a deep burnished red, was soaked in blood along its hem, the offerings of war. Dark brown wings lay folded against her back as she wandered amongst the dead on the abandoned battlefield. She did not look like someone who relished the thrill of war. Rather she looked rather thoughtful, perhaps even sad.
Hermes paused in his task, watching her quietly. Their paths rarely crossed. He had many duties: messenger to the gods, patron of travelers and thieves, guide to the underworld for the fallen. In cases like these where the dead were so numerous, he often found himself working alone, the other gods having left once the excitement of the battle had abated. Lately though, he had noticed a figure in the distance, walking amongst the ruin. This was the closest she had ever been, the first time he felt he could approach her without the interaction seeming out of place. As she drew nearer, blind to the world in the haze of her own thoughts, he softly cleared his throat.
“Greetings,”
She looked up in surprise, silent.
“Am I correct in thinking you’re Nike?”
She nodded . “I am,”
“I'm Hermes,”
“I know your name,”
He wasn’t sure how to take her tone. It wasn’t harsh – if anything it seemed indifferent. But her eyes remained on him. He would keep going then. “May I ask what you’re doing here? The battle finished long ago,”
“It’s true. I felt I should stay though. Bear witness to what I’ve had a hand in,”
“Not often that I come across a god who concerns themselves with the matters of men,”
Nike shook her head. “I don’t know that I do. Every battle, every struggle of humanity is the same: a winner and a loser. You’d think that would be enough meaning in itself. But the results all bleed together in my mind. Those who fell today will soon be replaced only for more to fall the next time men choose to cross swords. It all seems so meaningless at times. I don’t know why they continue,”
“We gods are the same in many ways. Always fighting, never making any progress. Before us it was the Titans and before them…” Hermes shrugged. “I find it best not to dwell on things beyond my understanding,”
Nike gave a soft chuckle. “A god admitting his own shortcomings? Having peace with them? You’re not what I’d have expected from one of Olympus’ elite,”
Hermes grinned. “I pride myself in being full of surprises,”
“And what brings you here? Do you have a message to deliver?”
“Tragically, I’m not here to visit with you. My duties lie with the dead,” He turned to kneel before a nearby soldier, placing a hand gently upon his forehead. The man’s spirit emerged silently, pale and ephemeral. It looked lost, gazing slowly round the battlefield in confusion as it rose above its corporeal shell. “You fought bravely, my friend,” Hermes said, placing a hand on the spirit’s shoulder. “Now it is time for the next step in your journey,” He extended his other hand, pointing toward the horizon. The ghost followed his motion, a light flickering in its eyes as it saw something there that Nike could not place. It drifted forward, disappearing into the evening mist. Hermes and Nike stood in silence together, watching where the spirit no longer stood.
“Do you talk that way to all of them?”
“I try to. They tend to get a bit lost in those first few moments. The words help to put them at ease,”
“You didn’t see him in battle though, did you. You don’t know whether he fought bravely or died a coward,”
Hermes looked at her with a sad smile. “Any being who would give their life for a cause has a bravery neither you nor I know,”
Nike found herself shaken by the words. This god who stood before her, freckled and shining as though kissed by the sun, was not what she’d expected to find in a guide for the dead. Then again, man who saw her true form found she did not match what they envisioned of victory. Perhaps they were the same in this way.
“I must continue,” Hermes said, breaking through her thoughts. “If you’ll excuse me,”
“I’d walk with you if you’d have my company,”
Hermes seemed surprised at her words, but readily nodded. “It would be appreciated,”
And so the two deities made their way across the fields of man, guiding the fallen into their next life. As the sunlight began to fade, Hermes’ pale wings shone in the waning light, Nike’s being lost in deepening shadow. Neither reckoned the meeting to be of great import, but the intersection of their paths had created a crossroads in the very course of fate itself. Time would unveil what path they chose to take.
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