Damn you, Lethe, damn you to hell.
I can remember it all now. I had asked my daughter Lethe, Goddess of Forgetting, to help me cast the fog of confusion on the younger generations of gods. I also gave her specific instructions on how long it was supposed to last, the little good-for-nothing heel. If I weren’t so angry, I’d be proud of her.
Worst of all, I also felt leaving me out of the spell should have gone without saying. She must have forgotten.
My problem right now is that I am too emotional. I am so angry that I can barely see straight. Historically, I make some pretty rash decisions when I’m running on adrenaline and hurt feelings.
I need a release.
I slip into nothingness, and in two shakes of a lamb’s void, I find myself in Washington, D.C. in my female form. My long hair is slicked back, and I am wearing a black satin backless halter top. The outside seams of my black leather pants are open, held together with laces that offer glimpses of the skin beneath,
People stare, of course they do. They’re just human, after all. My black leather, spike heeled boots click-clack with every step as I make my way to Dupont Circle and, more specifically, the brownstone containing the offices of Blind Equity.
Time for some balancing out.
I stride in, not waiting for permission, much to the annoyance of the few employees buzzing behind me. They must sense something as they don’t try to touch me. Though a part of me almost hopes they will give me a reason to tear them into hamburger.
No, Eris, that’s not the kind of release you’re after.
Finally, I find her in the private offices. She’s just as out of sorts as when we last met, perhaps more so. She’s stone still but raging like a fire. Her hands are clasped so tight that I worry I may see gold ichor spill out in a moment. She stares into my soul…not that I’m completely sure I even have one. It weakens me more than any wound I’ve suffered on the field of battle.
“Leave us,” I snap at the mortal staring back and forth between us.
She hesitates, looking to her morose boss for direction.
I grow in size ever so slightly and loose my jet black wings, feeling my eyes turn molten gold. I glare at the mortal with a rictus of rage on my face.
“I said go,” I growl. She flees appropriately, and we are thus left alone. At last.
The way Dikê looks at me, I can tell without a word being spoken she’s calling to me. Her siren song is in the longing stare she’s painted with her eyes, and in the way her hands slowly unclench, opening to rest languidly at her sides. The ever so slight parting of her lips causes a positively pornographic display to dance across my imagination.
“Hello.” I smile.
“Chaos…Eris.” She breathes, trying to calm herself down. My name on her lips brings a smile to my own.
“The one and only.”
“Do you need something?” She grinds her teeth. She leans forward ever so slightly, her brow arching in fascinated suspicion.
“Yes, I do, and so do you,” I say as I throw myself into a chair across from hers, kicking my feet up on her desk. She starts to say something but stops as I begin to remove my boots.
“You see, I think we can help each other. Balance, right? That’s one of your big things. You’re order, I’m chaos, and I think we can balance each other out. I really need that right now, and frankly, my dear, and I mean this in the best possible way, I’m thinking so do you.” I emphasize this by tossing my boots over my shoulder and stretching my legs with my now bare feet.
“You…can’t be trusted, Eris.”
I throw back my head and let out a cackle that would make the Brothers Grimm proud.
“Trust? Dikê, darling…” I wink as I bolt to my feet, letting the chair fall against the hard floor. “I’m not a middle schooler on the playground offering you a construction paper wedding ring. This is a very straightforward exchange,” I say as I unbutton my pants.
Once more, she begins to speak, but I hold up my hand.
“You haven’t heard my full sales pitch yet.” I tsk-tsked at her, wagging a finger with one hand and pulling my pants the rest of the way down with the other. I kick them to the side, leaving me in just the halter top and black panties.
“Remember your little gift for me? Where did you see that going? Did you even have a plan? What happened to that?”
She says nothing, but she clearly wants to, her eyes searching mine. Her anger having clearly deflated fully giving in to an ambiguous malaise of feelings.
“Well?” I snap, breaking the moment. “See? Nothing!” My fury starts to seep back to the surface, but I push it aside. “So why don’t we do something about it?” I pull my top over my head. I wear nothing underneath it.
“Eris…” She groans, closing her eyes for a second to try and block me out, as if it would be that easy.
“I’m proposing a plan of action, not just a tease of something more. This would be a definitive and effective step to a real resolution. A simple exchange,” I repeat. “You take what you need from me, and I’ll do the same.”
Now topless, wearing nothing but black lace panties, I walk slowly over to where she still sits, now openly staring at me. Is that hunger I see in her eyes or is that just me seeing what I want to see? Either way, she puts up no resistance as I straddle her lap. Despite the fact that she is fully clothed and I am basically naked, she’s the one who is coming off as vulnerable and exposed.
“Let’s give that Virgo thing a test drive, eh?”
I wait for her to tell me off or hell to push me off altogether. Instead, the stare continues for just half a second more, and then she comes at me. Her mouth on mine, her tongue fighting, or should I say dancing with my own, her hands roaming over my bare flesh. Any bit of weakness or vulnerability I saw within her burns away with the fuel of her passion.
Yep, I still got it.
It is hard to tell how much time has passed. We somehow made our way to a private room in the brownstone, and she had thankfully discarded her own clothes in the meantime. We writhe and wrestle with every part of our bodies finding something to do, our naturally opposing energies pairing nicely with the very contrary nature of sex. They call it lovemaking, but it has as much in common with a fight as it does an act of romance.
With each kiss, caress, each probing finger, and forceful tongue, a little of her order bleeds into me as a little of my chaos bleeds into her.
My wings may be out, and she may have stars around her as I move down her abdomen, but I may also just be imagining that. The rush, however, is quite real. This is unlike any such similar experience of late. That Sun God was nothing compared to this, and let’s not even discuss Hermes. This is something new, something strong, like an undeniable magnetic force. Had I known opposites attract was such a literal phenomenon, I may not have been as dismissive as I was of Harmonia when I had my shot all those centuries ago.
This is just what I need. I can feel it working in real-time. The parts of me that were screaming in rage are now screaming for other reasons. We say nothing to each other, but the silence allows a conversation of energies to take place. There is a transference of properties as our prospective domains conflate as much as our bodies are doing.
On a very real metaphysical level, each motion and pleasure takes on new meaning. A scratch of my back and a kiss to my breast could just as easily be a war or an armistice.
Then the pace quickens, and I feel us reaching the point of climax. As it happens, the divine energies also quicken, and my foggy mind clears all the more. Just there, that’s it, almost done and… Yes! And as the moment hits, I see through the waves of pleasure, release, and satisfaction, I see the perfect justice. Thank you.
The afterglow falls over us, and I smile at her, our limbs still tangled. I lean in for one more kiss. Just as soon as our lips part, I nearly fly to my feet with a blinding speed. She looks up at me, her face bewildered.
“This has been incredibly helpful.” I nod with a rare sincere smile. My body changes to non-binary form for just a moment before slipping finally into male, still naked, of course. The act of shifting is unconscious as my mood shifts. I barely notice it myself.
“I owe you one.” I wink at her, dissolving from the room into my nothingness. I’ll get my clothes later. Right now, I must see Death himself.
Eris is portrayed by nouveau writer Dan D. Long scribbling his own tales for an audience consisting only of himself, he has only recently begun to seek a life professionally writing. Published only in local journals and a few online blogs, he nonetheless feels he has tales to tell and is ready to tell them. A lifelong addict of myths, legends, and folklore, his stories are built on magic and over the top tales of fantasy and wonder but grounded in the through-line of the human experience. Each story at heart being about the connections between people and the unsung lives of misunderstood people. He is currently working on his first real novel if his muse holds out. Follow him on Twitter for more news of this and any of his other inane ramblings.
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