Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

She is nothing, until she is somethin-

Eris is Discord and Discord is Eris. Disjointed bones push against skin and it accomodates outwards to pull itself into a frame, into a bag of skin holding a frame of bones, and yet this body rebels against her.
quiet, this room is quiet, something needs to change already she is change so why can't something just happen now now now NOW

And so the body that is in constant discord rises from the... whatever, the damn abyss, whatever that is. A room, a space, a cavern, a something is where Eris walks, strides, glides, into as she attempts, tries, fails, to get somewhere.
Always three attempts, always three goes at the- living, she supposes.

She should cause pain, be the cause of arguments and chaos and misinterpretations of simple words and to be wrong and cause friction, but yet her joints ache as if the friction she means to apply onto others instead caught in her bones.
Footsteps, wingbeats, drips of blood, all fall from her body as she flops into her own damn bed. It's quite comfy, to be honest. Or it would be, if her bones didn't scrape across each other over and over like there's blades behind each cap. Sandpaper from rusted blood grazes her flesh within the blood running through her veins.

Eris' eyes flick around the room as she lies there, flopped in her nest of blankets and forged Chthonic companions and rich tapestries. Her eyes land on the corked bottle of Nectar that she tossed in one of the piles of stuff.
Nectar heals gods, doesn't it? She knows that she's not an Olympian (they're her favourite ones to toy with- as if they don't cause enough discord on their own already), but maybe this'll help. Lubrication is to help rusty joints (thinking of herself as rusty and neglected feels like blasphemy to her nature but whatever), and she knows people use Nectar as oil for lubrication anyways.

Crow-black wings carry her across the room so she can pluck up that bottle of Nectar. Eris gulps it down all in one go, and chokes on it, sputtering out a mess of overly-sweet liquid over the floor. Oh well.
The nectar doesn't taste... well okay, it does make sense that it'll taste this sweet when the golden apples she hoards are meant to be sickly sweet. Why was she expecting something new from Melinoë to help anyways? Cuz' she's a witch? Nothing calms the aches in her bones because she's meant to be a contradiction, a discordance, fighting under her skin.

She spits out the rest of the nectar, and sips on water from Ephyra's fountain, the nearest working one. The cooler liquid washes away the nectar until all that's left is a sickening stickyness to her lips and chin.
The cave stays quiet, and she doesn't get up for a long while, the pathway to Olympus' base unattended.

Chapter Text

Trouble prances her half-naked ass across the Crossroads, on her way to where Eris is not sulking about losing. Not debating internally if asking Hecate for something to soothe inflamed joints and quiet the screaming her bones, well scream at her. Eris lets her hand slip from her hip over to Exagryph, leaving one finger dangling above the trigger. Shifts her weight from her legs to the gun.

“Please don't make me regret this, Eris, but... would you like to join me at the hot springs for a bit? Helps ease the tension.” Oh, Trouble’s here already. Fuck. What does that mean? … it would be nice, to soak for a bit. Maybe that does help, just because the witch was wrong last time about the nectar doesn’t mean she’s wrong about this. Best case, she gets to strip down this girl who usually wears basically nothing anyways!

“Wait, the springs are purified again? I've been out of the loop! Surprised I'd get another invite after last time, but... OK!” Eris is just always a wound ball of tension anyways, parts of her unravelling to strike at others whenever the world needs it, because she’s here to fuck! shit! up, and she’s going to fuck with people whenever she fuckin wants. The witch guides her shoulders towards the direction of the springs.

Melinoë’s hands feel far too good on Eris' shoulders, and Eris almost hopes she’ll keep doing it. They walk past the cauldron in the center of the Crossroads, and then onto stepping stone up towards the bathouse. Well, not exactly a bathhouse, but a collection of items that could make up a bathhouse, but there’s no house there, so just the springs, a curtained area to change, and a bucket with a… brightly colored duck. Where the fuck did the witch find that?

“Damn, babe, this is a nice place! Got more mmm, furnished since I messed with it, yeah babe?” Eris doesn’t duck behind the curtain to change, instead just pulling her shawls over her head, and then unclapses her belts.

“Yes, Dora’s been working on the renewal program for the Crossroads, I got these furnishings from her,” Trouble replies as she crosses her arms to take off her orange dress (who is she fooling, that covers nothing!!), and then the silver ornaments she wears (no WAY that offers any protection as armor!).

Obviously Melinoë finishes stripping before her, with how little that witch wears, and Eris stares at the lines of her back as Melinoë dips her flaming toes into the pool. Her fingers fumble with the clasp of another belt, a couple packs of jerky tumbling to the floor.

“Take your time”, Trouble tells her, but whats the point of waiting? Eris ditches the skirt, along with the similarly colored top, and cannonballs her way into the hot springs.

The spring is unfortunately, not that deep. Eris’ knees crash into the bottom first, ricocheting a cacophany of pain up her legs that reminds her of the way her hips had been complaining the entire… time she’d been standing at the Crossroads.

Why doesn’t she just leave actually, aside from coming to sow seeds of mistrust and chaos?

She doesn’t have to be here to make people upset, she’s pulled off wayyy bigger schemes to get people fighting each other without even being around! So why is she still hanging around the damn Crossroads?

“…Eris? You jumped in and then… zoned out.” Oh. So she had been. Eris kicks away, propelling her to the side of the bath.

Damn, it’s warm in here. Boiling, even, there’s steam coming out the top of the water!

“Ungh, so this is what you still do to relax? Hot as magma in this thing! Can we get out yet?”

“Permission denied. You'll quickly grow accustomed to the heat. Just try to concentrate on any tensions that you feel, and let the waters take them.” Okay yeah, maybe the water is helping with the pain, to be honest. But she’s never been honest, really, so Eris complains again.

“Tensions, me? Babe. I don't need to boil alive in order to cut loose. Though good to know you've found a way to bottle tensions up. What happens if you drink this stuff?” Eris doesn’t want to… lie to Trouble, at least. This time, the witch’s promise rings true, she really doesn’t feel much of the aching in her hips anymore! She flicks water at Melinoë. Girl’s gotta have some fun in here, its still so warm!

“These springs are pure thanks partly to the Salts we use. Though even still, I wouldn't recommend imbibing them. Next thing you know, you might be purified as— hey, don’t do that!” Melinoë quickly pivots from her point to pull Eris’ mouth off the surface of the water, but she’s already horfed down a mouthful of it. It’s really… weirdly tasting. Trouble has her almost scruffed by her neck, almost like she’s a cat.

Well cats are known for not behaving, so that’s kinda a mood. She doesn’t feel… purified in any way after drinking the bath water though.

“Oh I'm not worried about that! This is the way I am down to my very core. And if you don't like it, and brought me in here hoping a nice hot bath was all it'd take for me to change, well then... I love to disappoint.” She leans away from the stone rim to put her mouth on her cupped hands to slurp some more bath water. Not exactly… salty, but it still somehow made sense that they put salts in this anyways.

“Looks like the waters haven't rid you of your tensions yet...! Sometimes a hot spring is just a hot spring, Eris. Not everything is an assault on your ideals.” Well this witch can’t read her mind (she’d run out screaming, Eris bets), but she’s hella wrong on that one. Eris hasn’t felt this relaxed in forever! Not since she… was made, to be honest! Nothing’s screaming out at her in pain (or what she’s used to, a gagged protestation of sandpaper joints and bone-deep aches), and the only thing she really feels like doing is teasing Trouble.

“Well with all of you, I can’t be too sure! Guess this is nicer than the last time, and the heat isn’t terrible,” Eris replies. If inviting her to the hot springs and trying to get Eris to purify herself was Trouble’s game, she’ll play along, because being rid of aches for a moment was worth it, even if she wasn’t herself anymore.

‘Well, I wouldn’t mind if you were purified, give us a lot less trouble. And you’d be able to join the cause.” Melinoë finally relaxes, lying back against the rim of the bath.

Well, what’s she supposed to say in reponse to that? Actually, Eris doesn’t know what to say at all. She’s finally… not feeling her joints screaming back at her. There’s the stone beneath her and at her back, water rippling when either of them shift, but there’s nothing bothering her.

Well, aside from the need to fuck with Trouble. Maybe she should drink more bath water.

Chapter Text

Eris doesn't even notice Trouble (presumably) prancing her bare back over here to her corner of the Crossroads (that witch got her a trash can and everything!) because she's too busy with trying to drag Exagryph's handle into her hips to at least get some different pain for a bit. So it does come as a bit of a surprise when Melinoë comes with an enormous decanter tied with a purple bow, and then shoving it in her face.

“Aww babe, this is great! Ambrosia? You're finally stealing from the Olympians, took you long enough!” This time, making fun of Trouble isn't just to hide her exhaustion or a way to lash her pain out on something else, cuz Eris is genuinely curious how Trouble got a hold of this. She's never properly gotten a good source for Ambrosia.

And for some reason, Trouble takes offense to that, and backpedals, going on about her moral and ethical purchases from the Broker, whoever that is.

“Well, Eris, I'm not stealing just because I finally made it past <i>you</i> and up to Olympus. Well, the base of it, really, but- anyways. I've been buying Nectar and Ambrosia off the Wretched Broker. Care to share this at the taverna with me?”

Hey, isn't Broker that shade who sits over there? Eris hasn't really explored much of the crossroads since she left after the... more <i>destructive</i> of the cauldron incidents (they don't need an intact cauldron, they're witches, right? Could just incant up a new one, Eris bets), but Mel's really been sprucing the place up, with the hangings by the springs and now a guy??

“Really? You're buying things?” Honestly, that surprises Eris more than anything else. Isn't the witch a princess, also? Why's she so... polite? And not stuck-up? Eris hasn't ever known Melinoë to be polite, but like. Is she?? Because Trouble always salutes people and curtsies and does all these princessly things, but why's she shopping? Money should be beneath her, or maybe someone else should be paying for her, or whatever princessses do.

“Yes, I pay the Broker for their goods. Are you just going to keep the Ambrosia for yourself, because I was quite looking forward to sharing it, and your company,” Melinoë turns on her heel after announcing that, hand falling from the neck of the decanter. “But if you're so insistent on keeping my gift for yourself only, I can't fault you. It's a gift, after all.”

Eris lurches forwards at this, and totally not just because her head had been full of cotton this entire conversation, but because she wanted to kiss Trouble over Ambrosia. Definitely not because she's just a tiny bit lightheaded. And needs to sit down. Not that. But hey, a tavern-a probably has seats!

'Yeah sure, babe, I'll do what you want tonight, lets go!” Eris keeps her hand on the Ambrosia though (she rather likes how the volume of liquid just rolls around), and follows Trouble (walking behind Mel has never been bad) over to the tavern-a.

“I seem to recall you saying you'd do whatever I want tonight,” Melinoë says as the two of them sit down.

“Well, babe, isn't lying and cheating meant to be my skillset? You definitely think so!”

“I'll try this at least, go get us a cup each? Just behind where the Mixer stands, on the shelves.”

Oh fuck, Eris does not want to get up now that she's sitting down. Well... hey, it's Trouble asking. She should listen, cuz the witch's been right on one count for fixing her joints.

She doesn't really notice getting up with how out-of-it she's been, especially getting her ass beat by Trouble earlier- but two mugs clatter on the table as she almost collapses back onto the bench.

“You alright, Eris?” Trouble asks, and it almost looks like she's right on top of her! Wow, tunnel vision is a mean bastard.

“Yeah babe, I'm always like this.“ Eris chooses to ignore how her left wrist doesn't like being part of a body today, chooses not to mention what this is.

“... well, regardless, thanks for getting cups for us,” Melinoë replies as she hefts the Ambrosia off the table and pours out two servings, “You didn't have to listen to me.”

Well, Eris really did have to do that. Trouble's been real good at getting Discord to behave nicely. Sooooo...

“Did the hot springs blow up after I bathed with you? You did say that either I'd be purified, or it would be bad for the tub.” There isn't really any other topic Eris feels fine with chatting on- everything else she can think of is her joints aching or how she needs to reel in the prim-and-proper witch across the table. And kiss her, of course. Eris gulps down Ambrosia (oh how she wishes this was weird-salt bath water so she could piss Trouble off) instead of lingering too long.

Well... why doesn't she just reel Melinoë across the table?

“No, the springs are still purified, and don't go bout adding any more bombs to it.” Trouble sips at her own mug, and her eyes close as she savors the taste. Ambrosia's really got a feel to it, Eris thinks. She hasn't partaken in any sort of divine alcohol for a looong time- mortal beer and wine only goes so far.

Oh. That's the bottom of the mug. Well. She's not... drunk drunk yet. Might as well get a refill.

“... Eris? You alright?” Melinoë cocks her head, staring at her. Oh. Her top is wet. With the Ambrosia. Legendarly rare drink Trouble got for the both of them.

“Babe, I'm always causin trouble, what are you on about?” So she ended up spilling the decanter. Oh well.

“How are you this drunk already?” And Eris wants to protest at that, because she's not drunk, she's tiredachinginpain, but Trouble doesn't need her to spill that.

“C'mon, lets-” Melinoë grabs a rag from somewhere, as Eris sits there like a statue and Trouble mops up the mess from her crop top, and then she fists her hands in the edge of Mel's stupid dress, pulls her down, and kisses her.

“... well, regardless, thanks for getting cups for us,” Melinoë replies as she hefts the Ambrosia off the table and pours out two servings, “You didn't have to listen to me.”

Well, Eris really did have to do that. Trouble's been real good at getting Discord to behave nicely. Sooooo...

“Did the hot springs blow up after I bathed with you? You did say that either I'd be purified, or it would be bad for the tub.” There isn't really any other topic Eris feels fine with chatting on- everything else she can think of is her joints aching or how she needs to reel in the prim-and-proper witch across the table. And kiss her, of course. Eris gulps down Ambrosia (oh how she wishes this was weird-salt bath water so she could piss Trouble off) instead of lingering too long.

Well... why doesn't she just reel Melinoë across the table?

“No, the springs are still purified, and don't go bout adding any more bombs to it.” Trouble sips at her own mug, and her eyes close as she savors the taste. Ambrosia's really got a feel to it, Eris thinks. She hasn't partaken in any sort of divine alcohol for a looong time- mortal beer and wine only goes so far.

Oh. That's the bottom of the mug. Well. She's not... drunk drunk yet. Might as well get a refill.

“... Eris? You alright?” Melinoë cocks her head, staring at her. Oh. Her top is wet. With the Ambrosia. Legendarly rare drink Trouble got for the both of them.

“Babe, I'm always causin trouble, what are you on about?” So she ended up spilling the decanter. Oh well.

“How are you this drunk already?” And Eris wants to protest at that, because she's not drunk, she's tiredachinginpain, but Trouble doesn't need her to spill that.

“C'mon, lets-” Melinoë grabs a rag from somewhere, as Eris sits there like a statue and Trouble mops up the mess from her crop top, and then she fists her hands in the edge of Mel's stupid dress, pulls her down, and kisses her.