Of Ambrosia and Stone: Pandora's Curse

26

Apollo and I could hardly look at each other. Ever since hunting lodge, every time we bump into each other, an odd tension spreads between us.

Equally cautious.

But also addictive.

…And I craved more.

But the only guaranteed time that I see Apollo right now is when we sat across from each other at meals. Meals which we shared with others.

Since the picnic, I have missed beyond what I thought was possible. But for days he has been preoccupied hunting this shadowy figure within his borders.

Though no one has found a trace from the intruder. Other than the whispering rumor of his presence.

Apollo knows this so called stranger.

But I think he is trying to protect me, shelter me from the evils lurking in Olympus.

Each mealtime, Apollo escorts me down to the dining room. Often, we animatedly chattered. He’d give me flowers for my room, and I tuck the long stems in my hair. After dinner, I place the flowers in my now vibrantly packed vase.

Finally, the small garden has had a facelift. Hours upon hours of work have gone into it. But even after the years of detritus and neglect, flowers were finally taking root.

Roses flow up and down the trellises. Some old, original to the garden, others new. Nearly all the roses were red. Other flowers like snapdragons, also known as linaria, dotted the gardens too. The tall vibrant slipper-like blossoms of foxglove sway in the wind.

I wonder what it must have looked like in its prime. It must have been a sight to see.

Sighing, I wish I could’ve seen it. Instead of the well taught hands of the previous gardener employed by the royal family, the garden has a somewhat experienced rookie tending to it. A rookie who only has experience with plants in the human realm, plants meant to provide food instead of beauty. I sure hope that flowers behave the same in both worlds.

Since coming here, I could feel the magic in the air. It danced and tickled my skin. Honestly, the sensation drove me more than a bit nuts when I first got here and didn’t understand what was happening. It was almost lively with goosebumps perpetually on your skin. Now, it appears to have calmed down. I”m not sure if it’s because I”m used to magic or if the magic comes and goes.

I wonder if the plants absorb the magic too. Would it make them grow stronger, more vivid and last longer?

Well, maybe not based on the state of the garden when I first came across it.

Just me and Arista surrounded by the garden.

Shuddering, I jump at the sound of the creaking door behind me. Becoming rigid, it was like I had grown roots and become one with the garden.

Apollo stands leaning against the doorway to the main garden with his usually stony demeanor. His face was completely unreadable. Cocking my head to the side, I ask, “What’re you doing here?”

“I”m not sure. I felt drawn here.” Silently, I scanned the courtyard which now looks like a midsummer evening. String lights hung between the rough tops, the plants in full bloom. “Before, it almost looked like death rolled through the courtyard. Gray and ashen. Now look, it has been restored to its former glory. Well, as glorious as my amateur hands can manage anyway. Back at home, I spent most of my days outside either in the garden or hunting. When Uncle Ov showed me this little garden, I had to bring it back to life. Then I saw your beautiful lodge gardens, and I knew I needed to try.”

Blushing, I watch Apollo.

Would he like my work? Compared to the lodge, my little garden feels lifeless.

“What’re you thinking,” I ask as his eyes take in me and the garden.

“At the moment, a lot. Part of me is shocked. Nothing grows here anymore. Honestly, I”m happy that you brought some life here but there’s also mourning.” Shrugging, Apollo takes several moments to contemplate, “This was a garden of someone that I loved deeply.”

“Was it Persephone?” My voice drops low. Eyeing the flowers, he stands, frozen in place and lost in time. Reminiscing in distant memories.

I didn”t want it to be her.

But who else could it be?

Compared to her, I”ll always be the inferior mortal maiden.

But looking at Apollo, I see despair. The toll the memories have taken from him runs deep.

My heart feels for him. I remember when I lost my dad. My world felt like it was upended. I could hardly walk past his study without bursting into tears.

“Apollo? Would you like to sit down?” I gestured in the direction of my favorite bench by the pond.

He nods softly. As if in reflex, he extends his arm to me. I place my hand in the crook of his offered elbow. “You’ve a talent for giving life to the dead.”

I have a feeling he is talking about more than the withering garden.

Winding slowly down the bending path, past flourishing trees, flowers, and landscaping. “For years, my heart had long since hibernated. So still that I would”ve thought the curse plucked it from its cage. Forever gone. Forever dead. But from the moment I saw you, I felt it once more. My heart had hope amongst my despair.”

I wanted to crawl on his lap and burrow into him.

Around others, I felt strange. Around Apollo, I feel special and gorgeous.

I murmur, “Thank you. I”m happy you aren’t mad at me.”

Apollo pauses mid step, “Why would I be mad?”

“Just looking at the gardens, I knew they were important to somebody. But I still came in and gave it an update. I could”ve changed an important memory,” I rattle off.

Taking several moments, he collects his thoughts. He adds, “I owe a lot to you. You could’ve left and let those assassins poison me and have been far from Caelum before anyone knew to look. Even when my stubborn anger lashed out at you, you risked your life to save me and my court.”

“You can have a thick skull at times,” I laugh.

“What can I say, I get it from my father.” he gives me a cocky smile. Apollo joins in with my laughter and pulls me toward the bench by the pond. A mother duck and her ducklings circle the pool of water. “A god needs unwavering willpower to survive but he also needs people who are willing to go toe to toe with a god.” He bumps his shoulder into mine, “People like you. I hope that someday you’ll like it here. Here with me.”

Could I like it here? “But the plague…” I”ll be dead soon and I have no idea how to change fate.

Worse than death.

Mud. I would be mud. Basically, one of those clay statues from the basement.

Shaking his head. “Have faith. I know you’ll be able to stop this.”

Stop a magic that I don’t understand.

Gaia, look at Apollo and Artemis. With each passing day, they become more stiff and rigid.

“Whose garden was this?” I ask as I watch sadness leak into his expression.

“Persephone,” he whispered. “Now back to my question. Pandora, could you be happy here.”

I could nearly hear him add, ‘With me.’

I watch the grass sway in the wind. “Give me time. This is an adjustment for me. When it was my dad and I, we moved so frequently that we never established roots in one place.” Sighing, I fiddle with my chiton dress. My loose-fitting tunic is a lightweight wool but now, it feels constricting. I pull at the corded belt at my waist and adjust the clasp at my shoulders, loosening both before refastening it. “But yes, I think I could be happy here… with you.”

Realization creeps across his face. Pure glee. “Your gardening skills are uncanny.” He bends over, picking a nearby daffodil before returning to my side. “Would you be okay if I stayed here with you for a bit?” Kindly he requests. “It is peaceful here.”

“Of course,” I grin. “I”m happy you like it. Now I”m going to finish my rounds with the plants.”

Standing, I turn back to Apollo, who’s lounging on his chair. A lyre now set gently on his lap, “Would you mind if I played a bit of music?”

“Have at it,” Turning, I kneel at a nearby patch to be weeded. The strings are softly plucked. Warm and reverberating like the sun, he plays long strings of melodies. The music is like a dream, delicate and ethereal, a beautiful contrast to the grounded joy and presence of gardening.