Whee! I'm escaping my comfort zone of the anime fandoms and into the trecherous and none-too-familiar land of Greek mythology! Ha ha!

Anyway, I just love the myth of Apollo and Hyacinth (or Hyacinthus; I use Hyacinth). So one day, I trotted over and discovered, with a startled gasp, that there are no--well, two--Apollo/Hyacinth fictions. So, to ammend this haenous crime to humanity and to my slash-loving sisters, I typed and put this out! Yay!

Anywho, that's enough of my story, let's go to Apollo and Hyacinth's. Enjoy!

ac-the-brain-supreme does not own this myth or the characters of this myth. Acutally, no one owns the myth or the characters in this story. Except for the ancient Greeks, but none of them really care about that since they're all kinda dead and all.

Apollo loved to watch the young mortals of the Earth. He loved to hear the little children and laugh and play. He enjoyed the prayers of those who came to his temples to worship him and ask for his help. He loved their devotion to him. They were all his little pets, bowing to the master that kept them hale and oh-so-satisfied with the instruments he gave them or inhad inspired for them.

Apollo licked his lips as he spied a rather pretty young woman as she kneeled at one of his altars. She had hair like the night and skin like snow. Her eyes sparkled with the color of the sky and her limbs were like the branches of a tree. Apollo smiled. He suddenly felt filled with his infinite lust. Tonight he would feast on that girl's flesh and feel her breath on his neck.

"Brother?" Apollo turned and saw his sister, Artemis, standing off behind him on the marble floors of their Olympian palace. "Brother," Artemis continued, dark blue hair wafting behind her as she advanced on the younger diety, "you must not go through with this torture."

Apollo smirked pompously. "Dear sister," Apollo began, flinging back some of his crimson bangs with a deft move of his wrist, "how can you call this torture? The last time I researched the word, torture meant to torment one person. I do not torment these young girls. I give them pleasure. I give them the nights of their lives. I give them reason to worship us all, especially our dear sister Aphrodite."

"As if she needs to have her head any larger than her bossom," Apollo heard Artemis mumble.

The crimson-haired god of the sun turned back towards the mortal woman who was worshipping him. He felt great warmth and energy pass through his flesh and enter his ever-flowing bloodstream. Apollo let his arms spread wide, breathing in deeply through his nostrils as the heat pleasently burned his insides. Worship always made Apollo feel full. It was his food and drink. It was even better than the passion created during love-making.

Apollo breathed out. He leaned on the marble wall, gazing lustfully over onto the mortal woman who had just lighted the incense. "They do not complain. They enjoy it. Therefore, it is not torture."

Artemis placed a hand on her little brother's leanly mucled arm. "I do not speak of the young ladies. I speak of you."

Apollo slowly looked back at his sister. The sun god blinked as he stared into his sister's pale pearl eyes. They were caring and compassionate. They reflected the many years of worry Artemis had felt for her little brother. The same brother she had helped their mother birth on that little mobile island in the middle of nowhere. The same brother she had hunted with as a child and as an adult. The same brother she had watched fall in love with one of her best friends, who had rejected him and turned into a tree to escape him.

Daphne broke his heart that day. And when she broke his heart, she broke Artemis's heart as well. For weeks, the sun hid behind rain clouds, just as Apollo hid in his room, sobbing away the hurt he was cultivating in his mourning heart.

Artemis's hand raised from Apollo's shoulder to his face. She ran her knuckles down the soft cheeks, the high cheek bones, the slightly colored skin. Artemis sighed and pulled away. "Brother," she said, voice gentle and low, "I fear for your heart. I fear that this is only a way for you to run away from your pain. A way...to run from Daphne."

Apollo's golden eyes widened. He looked away. The younger man muttered something. "Pardon?" Artemis asked.

Apollo turned back to his sister. His eyes held anger and his fine brows were dipping into them. "Don't you dare say that name" he hissed out with as much venom as the dragon Python once had.

This time, it was Artemis's turn to act surprised. But she soon reverted to her own anger. "You can not run from her. She is in your heart. You wear her branches. You wish to run, yet you return to her with every woman. Look at the one you were gazing upon not minutes before!" Apollo followed his sister's instructions. "She looks like Daphne, does she not? Does she not have the same face and the same length of hair and the same color of skin? Does she not appear the same age?" Apollo closed his eyes. "You try to run from your heartache, but where you go is straight back to it!"

Apollo could not stand anymore of this. He raised and hand and swiftly cuffed his sister's flawless face. Artemis recoiled, holding the reddening and swelling cheek as she did. Her eyes were clenched shut and her face was twisted in the pain that her younger brother had caused her.

Apollo turned from his sister. He did not wish to see Artemis in pain, especially pain he himself had caused. The sun god strode away, not looking back once and not letting his eyes roam from the path ahead of him.

( ( ( Hyacinth ) ) )

Artemis was wrong.

That was what Apollo thought as he left the mortal girl he had spied before. The sun god had appeared to her and made her his. She, not surprisingly, gave in quite easily. Apollo, as did most of his fellow gods, had that effect on mortals. And when he was done with her, Apollo felt quite satisfied.

And he didn't miss Daphne. No, Apollo was over that whore. He didn't care a bit about her. He wore her branches because they looked nice with his hair. The leaves stuck out so well against the bright hair.

Apollo touched the leaves of the laurel branches that were neatly placed behind his ears. "Daphne" Apollo whispered. The sun god's mind wandered to that beautiful nymph Apollo loved with all his heart: How her skin looked softer than the clouds and how her hair was reminiscent of the green vines that grapes hung from; how her eyes were as intoxicating as Dionysis's wines and how her legs and arms always swung with a gentle grace Apollo never saw before; how Daphne's refusal of him made Apollo go mad with desire and how her final transformation had made him go mad with despair.

Apollo's eyes widened. No, he couldn't think of Daphne. He just couldn't. Especially after being with yet another woman.

Maybe Artemis was right.

Apollo shook his head. There was no way. What did Artemis know of love anyway. She was still a virgin. She swore to being eternally a virgin. She knew nothing of giving one's heart to another.

Apollo looked to the sky. Up in the black canvas, Apollo saw three stars strung across in a line. His mind mapped out the torso and the sword-weilding arm and the two legs of a constellation. That's when he remembered. Artemis did know what it felt like to love another. And she knew what it was like to loose that love.

Apollo looked at the green grass. "How can I get by without you, Daphne? You were my heart. How can I move on?"

( ( ( Hyacinth ) ) )

Golden blonde hair was tied back with a strip of beaten brown leather. Sandals were made of the same material and fingerless gloves decorated the boy's hands and forearms. His skin was lightly colored from many hours in the sun, running and playing and farming and training. Blue eyes were trained on a similary-colored sky. Breath moved in and out of his mouth, past two perfectly formed petal-like lips. Pink stained the cheeks of the lovely boy, who had just finished running through the valleys and hills that surrounded his home of Sparta.

The boy smiled. The day was lovely. Sunny and nary a cloud in the sky. The boy smiled, his white tunic riding a little bit up his legs as he lifted an arm to block out the sun's light on his face.

"What a fortunate day" he said, a laugh coming out as he finished the sentance. "But it is rather hot out." The boy wandered further into the forest he had found himself. Soon, he came upon a small pond. He gasped, clapping his hands together as he did.

This was a fortunate day.

( ( ( Hyacinth ) ) )

"Eh-ros!" The blonde love god opened an eye. The woman he was lying beside twitched, then opened an eye. "Eh-ros!" Eros sat up, using one bent arm as a pillar to hold him in his position.

"Is that your mother?" Psyche asked.

Eros sighed and nodded. "I fear so." Eros looked upon his wife. A smile crossed his lips. Psyche smiled back at her. "I apologize, my love, but my mother calls."

Psyche nodded. "Yes. Well, you are a busy god. After all, people must fall in love." Psyche cocked her head to the side, a few strands of her brown hair falling in front of her face.

Eros felt blood rush to his own handsome face. Eros leaned down and planted a kiss on Psyche's lips. He ran his knuckles across her face. "I shall see what my mother calls me for. Then I shall return and we can have some fun."

Psyche ran a hand through her husband's hair. "A lot of fun?" she asked.

Eros nodded. "As much fun as you want, my love."

Psyche giggled. Eros had the urge to ignore his mother and stay with his wife and lover. But if he ignored Aphrodite, she would just keep annoying him and annoying him, maybe even venturing into her son's bedroom. So, with the desire not to be seen in his bed naked with his as-naked wife, Eros stepped out and put on the toga he had discarded earlier when he and Psyche first climbed into their bed.

"Eh-ros!" Aphrodite called, drawing out her son's name and at a higher pitch.

"I am coming Mother!" Eros responded. He looked back at Psyche, who gave her husband a supporting smile. Eros smiled back, then walked out to speak to his mother.

( ( ( Hyacinth ) ) )

Eros's eyes were wide. "Mother, please explain this to me again" the winged mand requested.

Aphrodite, clad in barely anything, clapped her hands. "I want you to make Apollo and a mortal fall in love!"

Eros shook his head. "Mother, I do not wish to do this."

"Why not?" Aphrodite asked.

"Because the last time I did, it was a complete disaster" Eros explained.

Aphrodite's fine eyebrows came together. She lifted a clenched hand to her mouth. "Dear," she said, "that was a decision made out of foolishness. You were angry at Apollo and wanted to exact revenge. No one could predict his reaction to Daphne's refusal of him."

"I should have" Eros said.

Aphrodite placed a hand on her son's shoulder. Eros looked up at his mother. "It was far from your fault. You were young. You still did not fully understand love yourself back then."

Eros smiled at his mother. He enjoyed these rare moments of sincerity that his mother occasionally possessed. But, like many instances before, this one did not last very long.

Aphrodite was smiling again. "Now, back to my plan!"

Eros sighed. "Mother, why must we?"

"Because Artemis asked me to" Aphrodite said.

Eros was taken aback. "Artemis asked you to make Apollo fall in love?"

Aphrodite's smile dissapeared as she nodded. "Yes. Artemis came to me yesterday. She said that Apollo is becoming out of control. That he no longer respects what it was like to have love, if even for that brief a moment." Aphrodite placed a hand on her large breast, over where her heart was. The beautiful goddess closed her eyes and bent her head. "She worries for her brother's happiness. All the gods and goddesses do, in fact." Aphrodite opened her eyes and focused them on her son, her head not leaving the bent position it was in. "Eros, this would be the way you could make up for your mistake. Apollo so desires to love yet again, but he is reluctant to admit it. He needs help."

"And that is where I come in?" Eros asked.

Aphrodite nodded. "Exactly, Dear."

Eros sighed. "I fear I have no choice in the matter, do I?"

Aphrodite smiled. "No!" The older woman hugged her son. "Oh! This is just wonderful, Dear!" Aphrodite pulled away. "Now, I have already found the perfect target."

"Who is it?"

Aphrodite guided Eros to a nearby mirror that hung on the wall of Aphrodite's "plotting room", as the goddess had dubbed it. It was in that mirror that Aphrodite found the targets of her son's arrows, and it was in that mirror that an image was slowly appearing.

"I have a perfect idea" Aphrodite said. Eros nearly gasped when he saw the image fully materialize on the mirror. The mortal in the glass was blonde and washing in a pond, golden hair wet and slick from the crystalling water. "This is a young man by the name of--"

"Young man, Mother?" Eros asked.

Aphrodite nodded. "Yes, young man." Aphrodite noticed the look on her son's face. "Oh, do not act like this is the first time I have ever made you make me fall in love. You do it all the time."

Eros could not deny the truth to his mother's words. She did make him do just that, all the time. Sometimes he thought he did it more than he made women and men fall in love. But that was besides the point. Eros asked his mother to continue with the plan, which the love goddess did with a smile.

( ( ( Hyacinth ) ) )

Apollo wandered in the forest, looking for something to either distract him from his thoughts or inspire him into singing. So far, in this bland leafy green hell, there was nothing of either. Sure, there were pretty blue birds, but how many songs has Apollo sung to them? Far too many. And as pretty as their songs are in return, he just can't handle them anymore.

And the flowers on the ground. He's sung many, many songs for them as well, but he received nothing in return. Apollo desired to hear how his music was beauitful. He needed to hear that someone liked something he could create.

Apollo's ears picked up the sound of water splashing. The sun god blinked, then smiled. Maybe there was someone nearby to sing to. Someone who could appreciate the songs he had to offer. To praise and be inspired by the god. Apollo was guided by that sound, and soon another. The sound of laughter and giggles. Apollo felt a smile decorate his face as he the sounds became louder and more clear. The crimson-haired god let his eyes slid nearly closed. Who was this person, bathing in the pond, that was causing him such a reaction.

Apollo came upon the pond and the beauty that it held. The beauty had their back to him, but even that was enough for Apollo to have his heart leap.

They had a thin, curvy frame and slick, pure porcelain skin. Their hair was a perfect shade of gold and their laughter was as infectious as a disease any mortal could contract. Apollo's lips twitched upwards when he saw the youth's arms rise into the air. Apollo raised a hand and used a finger to outline the youth's body.

He must know who this lovely being was. So Apollo called to them, "Oh! Sweet lovely mortal, tell me whom I gaze upon."

The mortal in the pond covered their top and looked behind them. Apollo felt his heart leap again when his bright gold eyes connected with the pale blue eyes of the mortal before him. They gasped and ducked into the water, their head still staying above the water so they could breathe. Was this a naiad? No, they had blue skin. Was it a nymph? No, they rarely wandered from Artemis's forest. Apollo kneeled by the pool. He held a hand out.

"Oh! Who are you, great beauty of the mortal world. Please, tell me who you are" Apollo called. The mortal averted their eyes and backed away. Apollo pulled his hand back. How could he bring this mortal to trust him? Apollo smiled. He pulled out his lyre, placing it on one bent knee. "Sweet mortal who has stolen my attention," that made the mortal turn back to Apollo, "please, listen to this song that you have inspired."

( ( ( Hyacinth ) ) )

Eros walked into his mother's plotting room. "Mother, I have returned."

Aphrodite stood up and came over to hug her firstborn. "Oh, Dear, how was it? Has everything gone according to plan?" Eros opened his mouth to say something, but Aphrodite suddenly remembered her mirror. "Wait! Let me see!" The beautiful goddess hurried to the mirror, willing it to show an image of the couple her genius had just created. Eros just shook his head and began to leave his mother to her oggling.

( ( ( Hyacinth ) ) )

Apollo plucked the all too familiar strings as he stared lovingly into the eyes of the beautiful mortal man before him. The blonde mortal had their head tipped to the side, eyes almost closed in admiration of the music and in transfixtion on the Immortal that had offered to play the song for the blonde.

"Hark, youg mortal," Apollo whispered. The blonde looked up, straight into Apollo's golden eyes. "Tell me of your name tell me of who you are, where you hail. Tell me all there is to you."

The blonde mortal looked away, a blush on their face. Apollo smiled. That lovely face was even more desireable with that crimson stain flushed across it. Apollo reached down and tipped the mortal's face up towards him again. Apollo leaned down, his lips barely a breath away from his lovely mortal's. "Sweet mortal, tell me," Apollo whispered, "what your name is."

It came as a gasp. A short breath that covered Apollo's lips with warm, sweet air. The chills that single breath, that single word, created rushed down the sun god's spine, surged through his arms and legs. It electrified his body and Apollo knew. He wasn't sure what he knew, he just knew that this was the one. That this was to be his one and only lover for as long as Apollo would allow it, which he decided at that moment would be forever.

Apollo gently pushed his lips onto the blonde's. A gorgeous noise came from deep within the beauty's chest. Apollo and the mortal seperated. Apollo sighed and smiled, the mortal doing the same. The beauty had felt that electricity too.

Apollo brought himself closer to the beauty again. He let his hands fall under the arms of the beauty. "Say your name again." Apollo pulled the young beauty out of the water and brought the beauty to him. Apollo noticed then that his beauty was not what he had originally assumed, but the shock passed by without much notice. After all, a beautiful boy was a rare flower, found only once in a lifetime, especially a beauty such as him.

Apollo brought his beauty into an embrace and kissed him again. Once seperated, Apollo whispered, "Tell me your name again, my beauty, my flower."

The blonde raised a hand and dared to touch the crown of laurels on the sun god's head. He let his fingertips run through the soft vermillion strands that fell alongside and behind the green leaves. The young man smiled. He leaned against Apollo, and whispered the name that the god so longed to hear.

"Hyacinth."

( ( ( Hyacinth ) ) )

Artemis smiled as she watched her younger brother as he acquainted himself with a young mortal boy. And quite a handsome boy he was. Artemis reminded herself to thank Aphrodite when she saw her again. Which, considering that Artemis owed her a "thank you", wouldn't be very long.

"Ar-te-misss!" Nope, it wouldn't take long at all.