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It’s something around five or six hundred years after she marries her husband, that she hears of Pericles’ famous funeral oration. It’s a pretty enough speech; inspiring in many ways and always eloquent. His speech is intended to embolden the audience, and stir up patriotism and pride in their great city of Athens, by describing all the ways in which Athens is the best society. As such, it’s not especially factually describing Athens, so much as it is describing the ideal that Athens strives for.So, not strictly accurate, nor is it especially meant to be. Still, she has to chuckle a bit at his inclusion of the ideal Athenian woman: “A woman’s reputation is highest when men say little about her, whether it be good or evil.” The implication being, of course, that she led an unremarkable life of quiet obedience to her father and her husband – no wicked deeds, of course; nor any eye-catching noble deeds.Naïve little fool! All it means, when no one speaks of a woman for good or ill, is that she never got caught. And no one speaks of Hebe, hardly at all.————————————-The myths about Hebe are sparse – Pericles would surely approve. You’d think it would be difficult to be this invisible, given that she is the daughter of the King and Queen of Olympus, and Zeus and Hera have quite the flair for the dramatic, to put it mildly. Her big brother, Ares, is a regular source of excitement as well; and her aunts and uncles and all her half-brothers and half-sisters complement the full circus. Lots of myths about them.But since the whole lot of them seem to have claimed all the fuss and commotion, leaving none left for Hebe. Hebe is a calm and pleasant baby from the start. The novelty of such a creature born on Olympus makes her adored even more than she already is as a princess. When she is presented to her family, upon her birth and joyful acceptance by Zeus and Hera, the gifts are piled high upon tables. Astonishing paintings and mosaics and special songs, composed for her alone, come from Apollo; a collection of shiny coins from all over the world, and a carefully carved bird that whistles when you blow into it, from Hermes; soft-woven clothes for herself and her dolls, from Athena; toys made of beaten metal that wind up and move about, created by Hephaestus. And so many more! Hebe’s birth is a rare occasion that brings only happiness to Olympus.It’s this that shapes her role as the goddess of youth. Everyone forever wants to preserve this; to give her presents and play games and never, never get caught up in the worries and drama that await an adult. Particularly Zeus and Hera, who have more than enough tensions of their own at home, and don’t want to lose this one beautiful thing they’ve created together. So Hebe stays young – generally, taking the appearance of a nine- or ten-year-old for most of her charmed existence, and behaving the same. Papa Zeus laughs and tosses her into the air when he sees her; Mama Hera smiles and brings her to sit in her lap and talk about the adventures her dolls have been having. Hebe’s life is pleasant and unchallenging. She brings laughter and gaiety to all who see her… but when they leave the room, her childish ways are quickly forgotten. No one speaks ill of Hebe, certainly. How could they? But her stalled childhood prevents them from having anything good or interesting to say about her either.And they all make the mistake of assuming that because she looks and acts like a child, that she must possess the brain of a child as well. Which often (unfairly) means they think of her as a sweet simpleton.But Hebe is clever and mature and extraordinarily self-possessed, child or not. And eventually, Hebe grows bored.———————-Her first rebellion is so small and insignificant that it isn’t even perceived as rebellion.Hebe envies the other gods their purposes. Papa is the king, and makes stormclouds. Mama is the queen and blesses marriages. Hermes delivers messages and steals things and tells funny jokes. Aunt Demeter makes plants grow. Grandpa Helios is the sun; he gives light and warmth to the whole world every day. And all the others have important jobs to do as well. What is there for Hebe to do? She doesn’t want to be the goddess of playing with dolls all day, even if it is fun.So she creates a job for herself, getting the idea after she watches enough of the councils, spying upon them from a secret place behind a pillar. She has her dolls with her as props, in case she gets caught, she can look like she’s just playing. No one notices her, though, except for Aunt Hess, who catches her eye and winks.Come to think of it, there aren’t many myths about Aunt Hess, either… Hebe goes to Mama and Papa when they’re both in a good mood at the same time and in the same place, which means waiting a while. Even luckier, they happen to be mostly alone: only Aunt Hestia and Hermes are nearby, and they’re speaking at Auntie’s Hearth, while Mama and Papa sit on a bench overlooking the clouds. Papa’s slightly out of sorts – one of his favorite heroes isn’t doing well at the moment – but Hebe bets she can cheer him up the rest of the way with a winning grin, throwing herself at him so he has to catch her. She’s right, and his booming laughter fills the hall as he tosses her into the air and then hugs her tightly, and his broad smile matches Mama’s.“What trouble is my little ducky getting into today?” he teases her, using the nickname they’ve all used lately, stemming from a game where she’d pretended to be all the animals. Everyone had fallen in love with her duck impression. Hebe knows how to work a crowd.She sticks her tongue out at him, making him and Mama both laugh at her impertinence. “I don’t get into trouble hardly at all anymore, Papa, but if you’re worried about it, I have an idea.”They laugh again, amused. This is the face they usually present to her, but she’s seen them strained, furious, heartbroken. She likes to see them happy, smiling. “A plan to keep you out of trouble? You must have stayed up all night with Athena to cook up such an idea!” Now Mama’s teasing. Of course Hebe doesn’t get into trouble. “I did not ask Athena for any help! This is my own idea!” she hmphs, crossing her arms. Papa and Mama pretend to wither at her stern look.“Of course, my darling, Athena is not the only one with clever ideas,” Mama soothes. “So what is this great plan?” Papa coaxes. She drops the offended look at once. “You need a cupbearer!” she declares.They both raise their eyebrows in surprise! “A cupbearer?”“Right! To take your drinks to you when you’re at council, so that you don’t need to interrupt to get up.”At present, at feasts or at councils, the gods serve themselves the nectar they drink. It’s a minor enough inconvenience. But at feasts, they have often complained of going thirsty in order not to miss a song from Apollo or a dance from his Muses; and in councils it can be worse, with no one wishing to absent themselves during an important discussion point. Aunt Hestia has offered to serve the gods and this was shot down immediately. It was beneath her to serve them; she is the firstborn of the Olympians and it is beneath her to serve them. There is no one, anywhere in the world, who wishes to see Aunt Hestia demean herself… even if she herself doesn’t care.It is technically beneath Hebe, too, as the Princess of Olympus, and she can see it in her parents’ faces. Particularly Mama’s – she won’t like the idea of her precious daughter serving those other children of Papa’s. The bastard children.Hebe heads off this dangerous line of thought before it can even be formed completely. She takes an earnest posture, hands clasped on Papa’s knee and looking up into his face. Papa’s a soft heart, when it comes to his daughters and especially little girls.She glances often over at her mother, though – the petition has to be run by Papa, he is the King and would make the formal pronouncement, but Hebe knows the real approval needs to come from Mama.“I want to help, to be useful! It isn’t right that all I do is play all day, while everyone else is working!”Papa makes a slightly pained expression. “My sweet girl, that’s all we want for you – we work hard so you won’t have to. There’s no one on Olympus, or anywhere else in the world, who thinks ill of you for it.”“But I do, Papa,” says Hebe, biting her lip. “I want to do more.” She’s trying not to be dramatic about it – Mama and Papa do not need more drama – but she really hates being the cute decorative girl-child, forever sitting around playing dress-up. It’s not that she doesn’t have fun doing that, but she doesn’t like it being her only future. Mama understands this part – Hebe doesn’t know all of the adults’ problems, but she has overheard Mama say more than once that she doesn’t intend for her life to be over just because she’s married now. She says she’s the Queen and by Ouranos’ balls, she’s going to be part of running this damned cosmos, come hell or high water.She looks over at Mama, now. “I want to be helpful. I want to be part of Olympus, even if it’s just a little bit. I can bring everyone their drinks so they don’t have to get up, and stand out of the way once I’m done. If everyone drinks slowly, I can even still practice writing or sew a little while I wait.”They both settle visibly at this. They’re running it through in their heads, and picturing something cute – a little girl, pretending to be part of the grown-ups’ affairs, running to her brothers and sisters and aunts and uncle to carefully pour their cups, having to be called over from playing with her toys in order to attend to them. And, honestly, that will probably happen at least a couple of times. Sometimes the council topics are exciting but sometimes they’re so boring that probably getting up to refill your cup is a blessed break, a chance to excuse yourself for a moment. Too bad, gods! They’ll have to find a different excuse now; Hebe’s got a job.Papa smiles and looks to Mama. “Well, what about it, wife? Do you think our daughter can handle this great responsibility?”Mama pretends to think. “Hmm, it’s difficult to say. We shall have to give her a chance to prove herself, I suppose. It would certainly be a helpful person to have around, a cupbearer.”“Very well.” Papa sits upright very seriously, and Mama does too, holding her staff regally as Papa places his hand solemnly on Hebe’s head. This part is serious, not silly and pretend. The job may be minor, but when a god or goddess is appointed a duty, it is a serious event. It makes Hebe shiver a little. “As the Lord of Olympus, Ruler of all the Cosmos, and the power that comes with my burden and duty, I declare that Hebe, daughter of Hera and Zeus, will henceforth be the appointed cupbearer of the gods – to keep their cups filled, at feasts or councils. Gladdened Princess, do you accept this charge?” Gladdened Princess is the only epithet she’s earned – yet. Hebe bows her head solemnly. “I swear upon the Styx to uphold my duties until released from this oath by Zeus the king or Hera the Queen,” she recites.Papa’s face splits open into a grin yet again, and he crushes her to him in a hug that makes her laugh when his beard tickles her neck. “Excellent! A cupbearer at last!” he cries, delighted with her. “Our little baby girl, with her first domain,” Mama says, stroking Hebe’s hair.They play a quick game of hoops, to celebrate, and then Hebe excuses herself from their presence. She walks past Hermes and Auntie Hestia, who are still reclined near the Hearth and grinning at Hebe and not even pretending they hadn’t been eavesdropping.“Well, well! A cupbearer on Olympus! How very exciting!” Auntie Hess congratulates her.“I was getting so tired of always having to get up for my own drink!” Hermes makes a gesture of exhaustion.“It will be wonderful to have you be part of the council, even if only peripherally. I’m glad Zeus and Hera agreed.”“Oh yes, and very masterfully played, by the way,” Hermes says with a wink.Hebe attempts to frown at Hermes, which is hard – it’s difficult to say which of her brothers she likes the most, but Hermes is certainly the most fun.“Oh, Hermes, don’t be a pest,” Hestia scolds him on Hebe’s behalf, but she’s smiling too. “Look, it takes a thief to catch a thief, and I made my great debut on Olympus by overwhelming the mighty Zeus with my irresistible cuteness. Which I still retain to this day.” Hermes is floating a couple feet in the air, ankle wings fluttering fast as he gestures grandly. He turns to Hebe again, pressing a finger alongside his nose with another exaggerated conspiratorial wink. “Nothing wrong with using your cuteness as a weapon! I mean, it’s worked great for me! – ” Hermes ignores Auntie Hestia’s amused scoff. “… but you can’t fool me, kiddo!”Well, if anyone were to figure it out, these two are probably the safest. Hebe rolls her eyes at her silly brother and stands haughtily, arms crossed.“I’m gonna spike your drink with bitterwort,” she informs him loftily. “Your face is gonna go like this – ” she scrunches up her face in an impression of Hermes drinking the foul-tasting beverage, and then laughs as he scoops her up in the air and dangles her over the brook nearby, playfully growling threats to dunk her under.——————————In short order, Hebe is given another duty – as Mama’s attendant.She is there to assist Mama getting in and out of her chariot, when she goes afield: harnessing the gold-bridled horses and yoking them to the chariot, and watching in fascination as the gold-and-silver car races off, a wonder to behold. She assists Mama in dressing – mainly by fetching the prettiest baubles to decorate her lovely hands and neck – and brushes her hair. Mama returns this favor to her, brushing Hebe’s hair 100 times until it’s smooth and soft. Hebe stands by Mama’s side in a formal court, along with her friend Iris, to fetch and retrieve anything Mama asks for, or to help her in any other way.This is something Hebe has always wanted to do also; but when the time comes and she is appointed, it’s more out of necessity than because Hebe asked. Hebe is not, in fact, the only daughter of Zeus and Hera. But her sister, Eileithyia, is fading out of consciousness quite inconveniently early, and is not around to attend to Mama.The process isn’t complete yet, but it’s clear that Eileithyia is planning to do it. Anytime Hebe visits her sister’s rooms, assuming Eileithyia is there at all, she can be found sitting in a misty, wavering form, in a kind of trance. She’s attending to her duties metaphysically, which all of the gods and goddesses do – even Hebe, who certainly doesn’t show up in person every time someone is feeling youthful. But Eileithyia has recently opted to conduct her business almost entirely metaphysically, and hasn’t been socially available for quite some time. She got the idea from their Grandmama Rhea, who announced that she was leaving the conscious running of the universe to the younger generation, and began fading out. She embraced her eternal concept of motherhood and does not choose to wear her personality often anymore. Eileithyia thinks that’s incredibly deep and meaningful and began doing the same thing, abandoning her personality and consciousness in favor of floating in her room.It’s not like she’s gone – you can even have a conversation with her if you’re patient enough to wait three months for her to notice you’ve been greeting her. But she never has much to say, since she hasn’t been doing anything in so long, so Hebe rarely bothers.“You’ll see, sweet little Hebe,” she’d said last time, in a conversation that had taken nearly six hours to complete in spite of the lack of content. “You’ll get tired of all the drama, all the arguing, all the betrayals. You’ll be right here with me where there’s peace and silence.”Very tiresome. Hebe thinks all the dramatics are exciting; and even if it’s hard sometimes, it’s all proof of how much her family really cares about things, about each other.This is a lesson that Auntie Hess imparted to her. Though she is Mama’s attendant, Hebe spends more of her time at Auntie Hess’ hearth than anywhere else. Auntie Hess, like Hebe, sees value in helping others, even if it’s technically beneath her. Hebe, as a cupbearer and all-around welcome face on Olympus, is privy to many more secrets than the Olympians think they’re letting on, and Aunt Hestia has told her that it’s a great privilege and burden to be the secret-bearer, and that she must never use her knowledge to hurt her family. She even cautions her against using it for good, at least not overtly, in case she misreads a situation and makes it worse. Subtlety and kindness will help their family to stay together in spite of their willfulness and passion, says Aunt Hestia. “Subtlety” seems to be the key word, and Hebe doesn’t mind being discreet and sneaky, but she isn’t terribly impressed with the fact that it all amounts to being a sweet, well-behaved girl. Perhaps Hebe did inherit a tiny thirst for dramatics and excitement after all.———————Her next great act of rebellion is also passed off as a childish game; though it’s increasingly a difficult concept to sell on her parents… or, more particularly, to Mama.“But that’s her greatest domain!” Hebe pleads. “She spends all her time with young girls, and has adventures with them!”“She spends all her time in the wilderness hunting bears and boars and fighting giants; and the girls tag along,” Mama corrects, looking stern. Mama really doesn’t like Artemis, and Artemis really doesn’t like Mama. They’ve reached a sort of truce by way of Artemis staying in her wilds and rarely interacting with Mama; but if they spend any great amount of time together, the truce falls apart.It’s a shame. Hebe loves Mama, but she likes Artemis a lot, too. She wants desperately to join the virgin goddess’ band of girls, going out running around and hunting and playing, and if Hermes is to be believed (a great risk), there’s wrestling and swearing!! Because they don’t have to be ladies, if there aren’t any boys around!Obviously, Hebe has responsibilities here on Olympus. She’s the cupbearer, and after only a few short years on the job, everyone’s already deemed the position as indispensable! And she’s still Mama’s main attendant, along with Iris. She needs to be able to help Mama with her chariot and her hair and jewelry. But she longs for the ability to run around, fastfastfast, surrounded by other girls her age, independent and wild and making noise. At least just once in a while!“It might not be a bad idea, though,” Papa says. “Eileithyia doesn’t look like she’s going to be over this phase anytime soon, and Hebe needs other girls to play with. I know you don’t… approve of Artemis, but after all, that’s the domain she chose, and she takes it very seriously.”Mama sighs, rubbing her temple. “Oh, let me consider it a little longer.” Papa looks at Hebe, quirks his mouth and shrugs. Hebe knows. After Kore – Queen Persephone, now – Papa has decided it’s not in his best interest to call all the shots on his daughters’ decisions. Particularly since Mama is considerably quicker to anger than even Aunt Demeter.But Hebe has been weaponizing her cuteness for a while now. Before she even spoke to Mama and Papa today, she approached Artemis with her plan, begging her to stay on the downlow for a while so Mama wouldn’t have any hard reasons to disallow Hebe to join her.Artemis was amused but agreed. After all, she said, Zeus’ daughters had to stick together. “You should just threaten to rip out his chest hair if you don’t get what you want, like I did!” she adds.Hebe giggles. It takes Hera another year or so to make up her mind, but by the time Kore is back above the ground, Hebe is there to greet her, running with the nymphs Nephele and Siproites and Hyacinthia, shouting and whooping.——————————Hebe is a cheerful and happy girl. She loves her Mama and Papa. She loves her Aunts Demeter and Hestia; she loves her Uncle Poseidon and she likes writing letters to Uncle Hades, though she hasn’t met him yet.She loves all her brothers and sisters, no matter which one or how they get along with each other. She loves Hephaestus’ forge and his big, scary, friendly Cyclopes helpers and his pretty wife Aglaia. She loves Apollo and how he brings her paintings and sings songs with her and plays duck-duck-goose with the Muses. She loves playing dress-up with Aphrodite and her naughty, silly son Eros, and the mischief they make together. She loves playing trivia games with Athena and playing with her owl friend Bubo. She loves putting on makeup with Dionysus and teasing Pan together with him. She loves racing Hermes and jumping out to scare him. She loves Artemis and the nymphs, who are like her second, part-time family.She loves them all, and would not ever pick a favorite. But she does have to admit that she has a certain special closeness to her big brother Ares.They’ve all sort of learned to not call too much attention to the question of whose parents they have. Most of them are some combination of Papa – that is, Zeus, plus ‘someone else.’ Athena was born only of Papa; Hephy was born only of Mama. But Ares is the only other one who is the child of the King and Queen both. They are the royal children (well, and Eileithyia, but she’s too busy being Wise and One With The Cosmos in her room. Hopeless.).Hebe and Ares don’t have much else directly in common with each other. Ares is the god of war, courage, and manliness. He’s argumentative and brash; noisy and prone to fighting. He’s always caught up in drama – mostly, fighting with Athena and Hephaestus and Apollo and Papa and Mama… and, well, he definitely isn’t the Joy of Olympus.Hebe and Ares both have the unenviable position no one else has, of being caught exactly in the middle of Mama and Papa. Mama and Papa both equally expect Hebe and Ares to take their side when they argue; a pressure that no one else has hanging over their heads.She knows that’s at least part the reason Eileithyia chose to shut down. It’s a very strained sort of loneliness. Hebe endures it because all of Olympus endeavors to keep her out of it; to keep her a happy child forever. She still feels the responsibility, though. Ares feels it, too, but his flat and brusque manner, combined with his total clumsy inability to read the emotions of a room, only serves to make everyone angry with him. Ares does not have what would be his rightful place as a Prince of Olympus. Hebe isn’t sure she’s ever heard anyone refer to him by the title. He’s gone for a long time, often; off overseeing wars and uprisings and other occasions where men and women need him to bolster their resolve. When he returns, Hebe has drawn his bath.This is their routine. It probably is a little weird, and perhaps others would deem it inappropriate. But Olympus is fueled by unseemly behavior, and Hebe herself expresses her thoughts on the matter once:“You really shouldn’t be in here when I’m taking a bath,” Ares says, keeping a cloth around him until he sinks beneath the sudsy water, heated courtesy of a few borrowed coals from Auntie’s Hearth. Hebe shrugs. She’s seen him naked before; the way the gods of Olympus strut around, it’s impossible to avoid. A bit of a double standard, but the reality is no one really cares if they see a man’s privates. A girl learns to roll her eyes and look the other way until they manage to find an improvised chlamys for modesty’s sake.“It’s not like I’m looking, brother,” she chides, pouring water over his head. “And I’m afraid if I leave, you’ll fall asleep in the tub and drown.”He wasn’t quite ready for the water on his head, and sputters before fixing her with a stinkeye which she ignores. His hair is… well, gross. Sweaty and dirty and with more than a little blood in it. She sighs and presses a small vial of scented oil into his hand. “Use that on your nasty hair.”He chuckles slightly. “Nasty, eh? Yeah, I guess that’s the word for it.” In spite of his objection, he seems too tired to really care what she’s doing or where she’s standing. He leans back into the tub and half-heartedly works the oil into his hair. Hebe goes to the table where she’s kept his clean clothes and waits there, eyes politely looking to the window where she can see Selene and Artemis in the night sky.“You look beat to hell, brother,” she says, striving to always speak honestly.He laughs again, a bit louder and more sincere this time. “Do I? Where’d you learn to talk like that, kid?”“I’ve learned a lot from Artemis’ nymphs. Words like fuck, shit, bugger, cunt – ” she recites proudly.“Okay, okay! Cut it out! People will think I’ve been teaching you that shit!” Ares is still laughing to himself. “Sheesh. One season with Arty and you’re already swearing like an Amazon.”“She says once in a while you two hunt together. Invite me along next time?”He’s quiet for a while, and Hebe wonders if he’s fallen asleep. He really does look beat to hell. He’d shuffled into the bath like an old man with all his aches; begrimed and cut up and tired. There’s an unguent from Apollo’s stock here in this room; maybe she can try to apply it to some of the uglier-looking bruises and swellings and cuts before he puts on his clean chiton and cloak.Ares finally answers. “Yeah, maybe. Might be nice having another sister tagging along.”——————————————-There’s a certain equilibrium she’s managed to achieve, and for the most part she’s satisfied. She’s still everyone’s favorite child-princess; the delight of Olympus and the innocent playmate who stays removed from the drama.But she’s apprenticed to Hestia, and knows the gossip and how to gently steer her hotheaded family away from dangerous situations and conversations.And she’s gained employment, as a cupbearer and as Mama’s attendant and one of Artemis’ part-time virgin retinue. It’s not quite as spectacular as her brothers or sisters’ roles; but she isn’t really ambitious. She’s managed to sneak her way out of the vapid part everyone wanted her to play, and did so in a way that left no one with any major words to remark upon. No one speaks poorly of her, of course; but her domains and accomplishments are so subtle that no one thinks to praise them either. Pericles, had he been born yet, would surely approve.And she might have been content with this forever, had she not strayed a little further from Artemis’ party than she meant to, one day.It’s a fine, sunny day and Hebe hears the sound of a lyre on the wind. Curious, she follows the sound – maybe it’s Apollo? But, Apollo’s music is generally so beautiful that her feet begin dancing all of their own will. This music isn’t Apollo-class. To be completely honest, it’s really bad.She comes across a man who appears to be in his late twenties or early thirties, sitting atop a rock overseeing a large herd of cattle and plucking idly at a lyre. He’s… not particularly beautiful. Not the way her brothers are… he’s one of the biggest men she’s ever seen, nearly as large as her brother Ares when he takes mortal form. Just this huge, plain-looking man sitting on a rock, watching a lot of cows, and playing the lyre badly. She really can’t place what it is that intrigues her, only that… he seems interesting, somehow. His face looks kind. And he looks…. Fun.Her curiosity finally compels her to step forward and shout to catch his attention. “Hey there! You, man! What do you call yourself?”He looks up, unsurprised to see her – he must have known she was hiding all along. Normally this would annoy her very much. But the easy grin on his face settles any injury to her pride.“Hey there, yourself! I call myself Alcides, thank you for your interest!” he calls back. “And if I may ask, what do you call yourself?”“You may not ask! It’s a secret!” she informs him, having the sense not to give her name away to strange men.He only laughs, unoffended. “Very well. May I call you Lion Princess for now? Since you roar so fiercely, yet have such a regal bearing?”She tries not to show how pleased she is. “I suppose it will do.” She comes closer still. “What are you doing out here?”“I’m watching my father Amphitryon’s cattle and killing time with a lyre.”“Killing music in general with that lyre!”He laughs again. “Harsh little Lion Princess! Well, you may be right, I’m not very good at it yet, am I? I was always getting beaten by my music master about it.”“That’s too bad. He probably wasn’t a good teacher.”Alcides shrugs. “I think my talents lie elsewhere than music. But it’s fun to play anyway, sometimes, don’t you think, Lion Princess? Even if I’m not the best at it.”He likes fun for its own sake. Hebe grins back at him. “I do think so! And I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself, even if you’re a terrible musician! But Alcides, what are your talents, then? Looking at cows?”“I’m great at looking at cows! No one’s better!” he puts his chest out exaggeratedly as he boasts, making her laugh. “But actually, I think my greatest talent might be… discus. Do you play, Lion Princess?”She claps her hands excitedly. “Yes! Have you got one on you now? Throw it here!”He softballs it, of course, but she’ll let it slide for now. Hebe’s only excited to be playing the game. She races across the lawn, dodging stray cows and catching the discus triumphantly while Alcides cheers. Hebe flings it back at him. He catches it – but pretends that the force of her throw knocked him backwards, clear off the rock. She laughs again and runs over to see where he’s fallen – only to shriek in surprise as he jumps out from behind the rock to scare her. Alcides laughs along with her, not unkindly – just as though he’s sharing the joke with her, and he graciously accepts it when she flings a fistful of weeds at him.“You – you rascal!” she scolds around her mirth.Alcides bows deeply. “Guilty as charged, my lady.”They throw the discus back and forth a few times, and Hebe teaches him the simple notes to a song she likes – a little composition about a bee and a bear. Alcides teaches her a joke about a man who was outwitted by his donkey.They formally exchange gifts – he gives her a shiny pebble, in an unusual color of green; she gives him a chain of clovers.Grandpa Helios is nearly done with his voyage across the sky, so Hebe takes her leave of the funny man, who bows again and bids farewell to the Lion Princess.She’s skipping back to Artemis’ camp, happy and in fine spirits, and won’t find out the scope of the drama she’s landed herself in until later.