Percy Jackson's Greek Gods (Percy Jackson and the Olympians companion #5.5) - Rick Riordan Page 0,100

said Hera, her face flushing gold with ichor.

Then the most unlikely hero stepped forward—Dionysus, the god of wine. “Don’t worry,” he said. “I can handle Hephaestus.”

The other gods looked at him.

“You?” Ares demanded. “What will you do? Threaten Hephaestus with a nice Chardonnay?”

Dionysus smiled. “You’ll see.”

Dionysus flew down to the earth. He started hanging around the blacksmith shop. He didn’t make any demands on Hephaestus. He didn’t threaten or lay on any guilt trips. He just chatted, told funny stories, and acted friendly.

Now, my experience with Mr. D has been pretty different, but apparently he could be pretty charming when he wanted to be. He had once been a mortal guy and had only recently become a god, so he wasn’t high and mighty like some of the other Olympians. He didn’t mind slumming with humans and ugly blacksmiths. He got along with Hephaestus just fine.

After weeks hanging out together, Dionysus said, “Man, you are working too hard. You need a break!”

“I like work,” Hephaestus muttered.

The truth was, blacksmithing took his mind off his pain. Despite his successful revenge against Hera, Hephaestus couldn’t get rid of his anger and bitterness. He was still an outcast god, no happier than he’d been before.

“I’m gonna take you out tonight,” Dionysus said. “We’ll hit the taverns and I’ll introduce you to this thing I created. It’s called wine.”

Hephaestus scowled. “It is a machine?”

Dionysus’s eyes twinkled. “Well…it has its uses. You’ll see.”

Now, kids…wine is alcohol. That’s a drink for grown-ups.

Gee, Mr. Percy Jackson, you say, can’t we have some wine?

No, no, kids. Wine is dangerous. I don’t want any of you to drink alcohol until you’re at least thirty-five years old. Even then, you should get a doctor’s note and your parents’ permission, drink responsibly (like one swig a month), and never operate heavy machinery while under the influence!

Okay…I think that covers my legal bases. On with the story.

That night, Dionysus took Hephaestus out drinking. In no time, Hephaestus was crying into his cup, pouring out his life story to Dionysus.

“I—I love you, man,” Hephaestus sobbed. “Nobody else understands me. Well…except these guys.” Hephaestus pointed to his bowl of salted peanuts. “They understand me. But…but nobody else.”

“Mmm.” Dionysus nodded sympathetically. “It must have been hard, living at the bottom of the sea, cast away by your own mother.”

“You’ve got no idea. It was…” Hephaestus sniffled, searching for the right word. “It was hard.”

“Exactly,” Dionysus said. “You know what would make you feel better?”

“More wine?” Hephaestus guessed.

“Well, possibly. But also, to forgive.”

“What, now?”

“Hera can be a witch,” said Dionysus. “Believe me, I know. But we’re a family, we gods. We have to stick together.”

Hephaestus glared cross-eyed into his cup. “She threw me out like a bad spark plug.”

“I’m not sure what that is,” Dionysus said. “But still, you can’t hold a grudge forever. If you bottle it up, well…even the finest wine eventually turns to vinegar. Did your revenge make you feel any better?”

“Not really.” Hephaestus scowled. “I need more wine.”

“No,” Dionysus said firmly, which really wasn’t like him, refusing somebody a drink. “You need to go back to Olympus with me right now and let Hera go. Be the good guy. Show everyone you’re better than her.”

Hephaestus grumbled and muttered and cursed his bowl of peanuts, but he decided Dionysus was right.

He rode back to Mount Olympus on his donkey—which was really dangerous, because he could’ve been pulled over for DWI (donkey while intoxicated).

Fortunately he got there safely, Dionysus walking at his side. Hephaestus approached Hera, and the other gods gathered around.

“Mother, I forgive you,” Hephaestus said. “I will let you go, but you have to promise: no more tossing babies away. Everybody has gifts, no matter what they look like. Do you agree?”

“Mrhph,” said Hera.

Hephaestus hit the secret deactivation switch on the back of the throne, and Hera was freed.

According to some stories, Hephaestus demanded a price for letting Hera go. Supposedly Poseidon (who hated Athena) suggested that Hephaestus ask Zeus for the wisdom goddess’s hand in marriage, and that’s why Hephaestus went chasing after her in the infamous handkerchief incident.

I can’t confirm that. Personally, I think Hephaestus just got tired of holding a grudge against his mom. Afterward, he and Dionysus stayed pretty good friends, and Hephaestus and Hera set aside their resentment.

In fact, the next time Hephaestus got into trouble, it was for helping his mom.

Fast-forward to when the gods rebelled against Zeus. As you might recall (or maybe not), once Zeus got free, he punished the rebel scum. Apollo and