Accord was beginning to wonder if part of becoming an adult was having to give up the fuss that goes along with birthdays. He'd never had to wheedle for a celebration, and he wasn't about to start now. No, that would be the little kid thing to do, and he wasn't a little kid any more. *I've been insisting on that for a couple of years, so I can't very well go 'oops, I meant I'm grown up in every way except for birthdays and gift giving holidays'.*

Still, even when they were embroiled in something big and complicated, his dads had never let his birthday pass without some sort of celebration, and sixteen was a pretty important milestone. *I need to stop worrying about this. After all, there's almost a week left, and even if they don't do anything, I'm okay with that--I guess. I would've thought that at least Bliss would have mentioned something about it. It Imp. I'd've thought that she'd be ready to start with the 'old fart' jokes. Well, I'd better get over to Hestia's place. I was kinda surprised when Demeter agreed to let me start working with Hes before my time with her was officially up. Either she really likes me, or she's trying to get rid of me because she wants me out of her hair. Either way, if I son't get a cake for my birthday, I'll have a chance to grab some goodies while I'm working with Hes.*

Most gods and goddesses simply magicked up whatever they wanted to eat, so Hestia's temple was one of the few places on Olympus (outside of the quarters for the gods' human priests) where you could find a full sized kitchen. Joxer was one of the few who actually enjoyed cooking. Ares said he'd gotten a lot better at it over the years, probably because he wasn't working under the pressure of needing it to be palatable because that was all there was to eat. Since no one had to go hungry if he messed up, he'd felt free to practise and experiment. Hestia liked Joxer a lot. And Strife had caught the baking bug while he was pregnant with Impetua, and it had never really gone away.

The scent of good things cooking reached Accord long before he went up the steps of the temple. It was always like that. Walking past Hestia's temple almost assured that you were going to be looking for a snack when you got wherever you were going, because your nose was going to wake up your stomach. A lot of people just gave up and turned in. There was always something good sitting there, begging to be eaten. And unless she'd made something specifically for someone, Hestia wouldn't be smacking your hand if you reached for it. In fact, she'd feel mildly insulted if you left without eating something. Strife said that he loved her. She had no idea how much mischief that 'feed them if you love them' philosophy was going to cause down the line. He'd cackled, saying that he didn't need to worry about The Twilight because the energy it would generate just from infomercials for exercise equipment and fad diets would probably raise him from the dead.

Accord followed his nose down the corridor, coming at last into a warm, large, fragrant room. He looked around, wondering how many stoves and ovens Hestia actually had. The number seemed to fluxuate--something to do with her divinity. There was a small metal box on one counter, and he recognized it as a gift Scribe had brought back from the future. "It's called a toaster-oven," she'd said. "Of course, it won't work here unless we can figure out how to spell it..." She'd flipped the long, pronged black tail dangling from the thing. "No electricity, except that generated by certain people..." Jett had been moving up behind her, reaching down to pinch her bottom. She had turned, whipping out a small water skin and neatly spraying him in the face. Putting it away, she'd said, "Works for cats and boyfriends. As I was saying, it can't work, but I figured you'd be interested in the concept. I loved mine to death."

Accord noticed several plates of roasted meats on one of the tables, along with fresh loaves of bread and rolls. There was also an interesting looking box. "Hes?" he called.

"Just a second, Cord. I'll be right with you," she called from a back room.

"Take your time." He picked up one of the rolls and started munching. It was flaky, tender, slightly sweet, and still warm--terrific by itself, but it could be even better. He went to a shelf ladened with jars of preserves and jellies, and began to try to decide what he wanted. He'd narrowed it down to either plain honey or strawberry jam, and was just getting another roll when Hestia bustled in, carrying a covered basket.

"Accord!" Her tone was unusually sharp, and Accord swallowed his current bite more quickly than he'd intended. He started coughing, and she tucked the basket under one arm, using her free one to thump him on the back. "I'm sorry, but you're going to have to leave those alone. They're promissed for a special occasion. That's why you're here today--you're going to learn a little something about catering."

Accord reluctantly gave up the idea of eating anything else, at least for the time being. Maybe there'd be some left overs from whatever occasion they were catering. He glanced at the table. "We're never going to be able to carry all of this with just the two of us."

"We won't need to. I can just mentally transport most of it. There are just a couple of things that I want to be transferred by hand." She waved her free hand, and most of the table's contents disappeared, leaving just the box. "You take that box. Now, don't drop it, and don't try to open it."

"Why?" Accord carefully lifted the box, making sure he had a secure grip. "Is there something animate in here? Did you do one of those nursery rhyme pies, with birds in the crust?"

"I know that's become fashionable among the bored rich, but the very idea of using live animals in a dish. Revolting."

"Then let me advise you never to let Scribe tell you about the exotic gourmet meal she saw once on a video."

"Did they swallow live worms? I understand that was pretty popular on some sort of mass entertainment thing they had in her time. Something about survival. Anyway, that's nothing so odd--most children eat a bug or a worm at some time in their lives."

"Not those. See, they have these monkeys strapped in these little chairs, and they shave their heads, then take a bone saw and..." Hestia's eyes were getting large. "And I better leave it right there, since I warned you about it. Where are we going?"

Hestia came over and took a firm grip on his arms. "I'll drive--you just hang on tight to that box. Now, is that roll you ate going to give you a problem?"

"What do you--?" Accord blushed. "I haven't upchucked when I transported for months now. Um, weeks, anyway. And if I know it's coming, it isn't really a problem."

"Good. Now, ready, steady--here we go."

*Flash*

They were standing in what looked like an open arena, the outside rimmed with stately columns of gleaming marble. In the center there were several tables laden with food (he looked more closely) some of which he couldn't immediately identify, and surrounding them was an assortment of comfortable lounges, chairs, and low tables. There were tubs of ice holding an assortment of bottles that were probably wine and ale, and some jugs of what looked like fruit juice. He was pretty sure that this place didn't normally have a ton of flowering potted trees and bushes creating shadowy alcoves around its rim, so that meant that someone had decorated their butts off. A few muscicians were on a small dais, tuning their instruments, and they paused just long enough to offer the two arriving deities a respectful greeting. In short, it looked like there was everything one needed for a party--except guests. "Where is everyone?"

"They'll be here shortly. A good caterer has to show up a little ahead of time to set things up. Put that box on this table."

Accord settled it carefully. "Am I going to stay long enough to see what this is?"

"Absolutely." She lifted the lid, and Accord bent over for a better look. Then he stood up abruptly, just as...

*Flash!* "Happy Natal Day, Accord!"

He looked up to find himself surrounded by a couple of dozen of his family and friends, all dressed in their party clothes, and grinning like mad. "You guys!"

Strife pounced on him, hugging him as he cackled. "Oh, we gotcha! We gotcha good, didn't we?"

"You sure did," he admitted, hugging him back. "I was thinking that everyone had forgotten."

"You were?" Ares looked a little odd out of his leathers, but even dressed in black silk and well along in his third trimester, he managed to look pretty damn macho.

"Okay, so I wasn't really." He smiled sunnily. "I was having a moment of 'I'm a teenager, so the world doesn't understand'."

"You're entitled." Joxer took his turn hugging his son. "Did we really surprise you, or are you just humoring us?"

"It's a good thing I'm completely potty trained, and hadn't drunk a lot of water before I went to Hestia's. Speaking of which..." He shook a finger at the smiling, motherly goddess. "I never would have suspected you of being so devious."

"Strife gave me lessons," she said calmly. She kissed him on the cheek. "And I had incentive to make an effort. You've been working so hard, dear." She tapped the box. "Do you like it?" Accord leaned over to peek inside again. The cake was huge, the size of a small wagon wheel, and it smelled deliciously of cinnamon and cloves. "I know that you like spice cake, and I used plenty of almond essence in the frosting."

"It's terrific." Written in flowing script across the top was his name, and below it was a careful rendition of a set of scales, picked out in almond slivers. The pans of the scales were holding candied rose petals and violets.

Hestia whispered, "Mention those to Dite." Accord saw the Love Goddess to the side, eagerly watching his reaction to his cake. "They were her idea."

"Right," he whispered back. He raised his voice. "That's so cool! Hey, don't everyone snarf the candied violets. I have dibs on most of those. I like 'em, and my breath will smell really good for the rest of the day." Dite beamed proudly.

Imp bounced over to him, dragging Polly along, with Hercules and Iolaus coming right behind them. "Happy natal day, Cord. How's it feel ta be approachin decrepitude?"

"Okay, things are normal," said Accord, accepting embraces from the girls. Polytimous stood on her tip-toes and kissed him on the cheek, then blushed furiously and hurried over to stand between her fathers, shaking her blonde curls so that they'd hide her face.

When he saw this interchange, Ares elbowed Joxer significantly. "See?" he said quietly. "She's already got a crush on him. Of course she's too young for him--now, anyway. Since he isn't going to age after a few years, that wouldn't be much of an issue." He shook his head slightly. "But the idea of having Herc as an in-law..."

"I don't think you have to worry about that," said Joxer, watching as Bliss approached Accord.

Bliss made his way to the guest of honor, working his way through the other divinities who were pressing forward to offere their good wishes. When he got right before Accord he stopped. "I'd say happy natal day, but that's kind of being over done. So I'll just say," he offered his hand. "Welcome to adulthood."

Accord shook his hand, but said, "It isn't official. It won't be official till I'm seventeen, unless there's a special decree. You know how hard those are to come by."

The party got started. Polly didn't manage to eat everything, but she made a valiant effort. Hiss had to be evicted from a bowl of salad, and only Imp would eat any of it after that--that was if she'd ever been inclined to eat salad. Priss and Mjau showed remarkable willingness toward team effort by making off with an entire roast pheasant. Scribe came up to Accord, grabbed his face, and laid a hard kiss in the middle of his forehead. Then she held up a mirror. He had a bright scarlet kissy mark, and he noticed that her lips were as red as a Bacchae's who'd just gotten through with a good meal. "Now you have officially been wenched."

Accord almost went cross-eyed trying to peer up at the mark. "What is that?"

"Lipstick--future cosmetics. I hit the Better Living Through Goth website last time I was back home. I knew I was going to find some use for the assortment I got, and now I have. Party favors! Hecate?" The Goddess of Witches came over, and Scribe tossed her two small metal tubes, then pointed to her own lips. "I got you Licorice and Dried Blood."

"Ooo! Let me have the mirror," said Hecate excitedly. "Can this stuff be smudged around the eyes, too?"

"You're a goddess, hon--you can pretty much do as you like. Eris, I thought you'd like my color. Demeter, I got some Plum Gone for you, and Dite--Brain Pan."

Dite wrinkled her nose. "Ew."

"It's pink."

"Gimme!"

Accord accumulated a pile of presents. There was clothing, scrolls and paintings from the Muses, a decorative dagger from Strife and Cupid, a jade pendant from Imp (who swore that it was just a plain necklace--no minor curses attatched). Accord examined his loot happily, then glanced at Bliss questioningly. He didn't have to say anything--Bliss said, "Mine is sort of connected to the one Zeus and Hera are giving you, so I'll wait for that." Zeus and Hera had moved to the muscician's dais. "And I think you're about to get that one. He has an 'I have a pronouncement' look about him."

The babble of conversation died down as Zeus drew himself up regally, gathering his robes about him. "Attention, please. Friends and family, we have gathered today to celebrate a very special occasion--the natal day of someone dear to us all: Accord, God of Mediation." Zeus gave Accord a smile that was more than just official. "I can remember when you arrived, young man..."

"So can I," said Ares, his tone conveying a wealth of memories, not all of them entirely pleasant.

"So can I," said Joxer. "Ouch." But he was smiling.

"If I can be allowed to continue?" said Zeus, but he didn't sound nearly as testy as he usually did when an official pronouncement was interrupted. "So, what do you give a god? There isn't much that they can't just get for themselves." The other gods and goddesses were nodding in agreement. And the mortals thought they had a hard time coming up with unusual and appropriate gifts. "Accord, I was going to commission a statue of the person of your choice, but it was brought home to me..." he glanced at Hera. She had her arms crossed, fingers tapping on her elbows, and she raised an eyebrow at him. "...forcefully that there was something that would be much more appropriate." He cleared his throat, and suddenly everyone's attention snapped to him. His tone was grave instead of pompous. He held out his hand, saying, "Come here, Accord."

Accord suddenly felt nervous, but he went up on the dais, beside his grandfather. Zeus took his hand. "My boy, you're still young, but you've matured remarkably in the last couple of years. I laid some heavy requirements on you, and you've met them without complaint. I've had nothing but good reporst from all your instructors." This surprised Accord a little. He thought for sure that Athena would have reported him for that time that he'd fallen asleep over the stack of battle plans he'd been trying to memorize. "Normally I wouldn't have even considered this till you were seventeen."

Accord swallowed hard, eyes going wide. *Oh, Tartarus! Is this what I think it is?* Everyone else had the same idea, because an excited murmur ran through the guests. Zeus was continuing. "But I know that you'll have plenty of assistance if you need advice, and you've proven yourself to be very responsible. I think it's time." He put his hands on Accord's shoulders. "Accord, God of Mediation, are you ready to assume your duties?"

*I don't believe this. I've been wanting this for so long, but I didn't expect... I don't know if I'm going to be able to speak. I'm going to just stand here as dumb as a rock, and he's going to decide I'm not ready, and the Fates will run out of thread before he offers it again.* "I am." *Oh. I guess I can still talk.*

"Close your eyes, and picture your chosen robes of state."

This he knew. He supposed that every deity must have planned their official robes as soon as they knew what they were. Accord had gone through stages. The earlier ones had included a lot of clashing colors, but they'd sobered as he matured. *And up to a couple of years ago I wanted a kilt--like Bliss,* he thought. *Because he looks so cool in them. And sexy. I just realized that. Oh, wow. I'm realizing that I think my nephew is hot in front of my family, while I'm being invested with my godhood. I bet mortals never have to deal with anything like this.* He closed his eyes and pictured the outfit he'd finally settled on.

"Are you ready?"

He thought about borrowing one of Strife's future sayings--'I was born ready.' Instead he exercised the maturity Zeus had attributed to him, closing his eyes and saying, "I am."

As the guests watched, a maroon shimmer flowed from Zeus' hands, creeping over Accord's body. His plain, dark clothing melted and flowed. In a moment he was dressed in rich, black linen pants tucked into high, oxblood boots, a loose white shirt with flowing sleeves gathered at the wrist, and a matching maroon open vest and cape. His belt matched his boots, and the silver buckle was embossed with a set of scales. Zeus examined him, then smiled. "Nice choice. You can open your eyes now, Accord. You can't get any more godly than you already are." When Accord opened his eyes, Zeus turned him to face the crowd. "I introduce to you Olympus' newest full god: Accord." Then his tone returned to normal, and he tugged on Accord's braid. "Good luck, Cord."

"Thank you, sir. You're not going to regret this," said Accord earnestly.

"I know. Now, go enjoy the rest of your party."

Accord stepped down, and once again he was surrounded by friends and relations, this time bent on congratulating him. Finally Ares started pulling people out of the knot that surrounded him. "Okay, okay--he knows that you think he's a fine fellow, and you think that he's going to be the most kick-butt god to come along in this, or the next century. Now let him breathe."

When some of the displaced well-wishers started to mutter, Joxer said, "Cut him some slack. He's being mellow. You should be around him when the hormones really kick in."

The crowd around Accord still hadn't thinned out much. Bliss was standing near him, and he said, "I'd like to give you your present, but I need to do it somewhere a little less crowded."

Accord felt an unaccountable thrill. "I think that Scribe and Strife are about to distract everyone." He tilted his head to direct Bliss' attention. "I just saw them shooing the muscicians off the stage."

"What's that little box Scribe has? And what's that thing she just stuck in it?" Loud... Well, he supposed it was music, suddenly filled the arena. He could recognize drums and horns, but that was about it. A strong male voice (and neither Bliss nor Accord could see anyone actually singing) boomed out, "I was nothin' but a lonely boy lookin' for somethin' new..."

Scribe saw them looking, and cupped her hands to her mouth, shouting over the music. "Eight tracks. I brought batteries for the player--enough to last a looong time."

The music was continuing. "...and you were nothin' but a lonely girl, but you were somethin', somethin' like a dream come true. I was the varsity captain and the head of the pack, and when I played my guitar I made ya turn in your tracks..."

Most of the gods and goddesses looked bemused, but some of them (especially the younger ones, or the more wildly inclined, like Hecate) were beginning to bounce a little in place. Strife grabbed Scribe, and they started dancing together. Or as Demeter put it later, 'having sex together, standing up and about a half-foot apart.' They were singing along with the music. "Every Saturday night I felt the fever grow: do ya know what it's like? All revved up with no place to go..." Scribe threw her head back, and her arms wide open, yelling, "I'm here to tell the world that Meatloaf is an absolute bloody genius!"

Hestia looked confused. "Meatloaf? With, or without tomato sauce?"

"Okay," said Bliss. "I think everyone is sufficiently distracted. C'mon." He led Accord toward one of the walkways that opened off the arena.

As they walked into the shadows, Accord felt his heartbeat speeding up. *Okay, he asked me to come here: somewhere private... and dark. What's he want to give me, and am I going to be ready for it, and not look like a total fool?*

They stopped in front of what looked like a small closet. "It's in here."

As Bliss turned to open the door, Accord closed his eyes briefly. *Crud, I got hold of the wrong end of the stick. It IS just a present. I guess this proves pretty conclusively that I am interested in him, though.*

Bliss had bent down, and now he stood up, turning around and holding what looked like a cloth covered dome. "Here you go, Cord. Happy natal day."

"Um, thanks." Accord held the thing, pushing the cloth down.

"Hoo-hooooo!"

He almost dropped it, but managed to catch himself. It was a cage. Blinking out at him from between the bars was a great grey owl, its round, golden eyes almost glowing in the dimness. "Oh, my gosh!"

"Do you like him?"

Accord grinned. "He is so cool! I always wanted my own pet."

"Well, I'm afraid you still haven't got one. He's your familiar, sort of like Priss and Hiss are for Imp. I didn't really need to keep him in the cage, but he sort of indicated that he wouldn't mind, since it would make it more traditional. The 'hoo-hooo' that scared the crap out of you was his own idea."

Accord reached one fingertip through the bars, gently stroking the creamy feathers on the bird's breast. It opened its beak silently, but Accord could tell that it was in pleasure, not threat. "What's his name?"

"I don't know."

"You didn't give him one, so I could choose it?"

"No, I didn't ask. He's sentient, Accord. He'll let you know what his name is, if you ask nicely, and pay attention."

"Really?" Accord put his eyes on level with the bird's. "Hi. I'm Accord. I'm gonna be your... Uh... Well, I hope we're gonna be friends. What's your name?" The bird regarded him, then leaned forward a little on its perch, gazing into his face. Accord closed his eyes, concentrating.

"Well? What's his name." Accord smiled, standing up. "His name is Sofia."

"Oh." Bliss bent down, looking into the cage gravely. "Sorry about that, Miss."

Both he and Accord were chuckling as he stood up. Accord impulsively hooked an arm around Bliss' neck, dragging him in and kissing him quickly. A little shocked with himself, he let go and stepped back, whispering, "Thank you."

"You're welcome." Bliss took his arms, pulled him close and kissed him--lingeringly. Accord let his head tilt back, and Bliss leaned in, keeping their mouths pressed together. His hands moved down to Accord's waist, and then his arms slipped around the younger boy, pulling him into a tight embrace.

Accord's eyes drifted shut as he felt the warm, tingling, totally right feeling wash over him, and the main thought running through his mind (besides 'oh, wow') was, *Why the Tartarus was I worried about this?*

A Couple of Minutes Earlier

"Where's Accord?" Ares was looking around. "The guest of honor shouldn't sneak off. He should stay here and have his ears bleed with the rest of us."

"Oh, come on," said Joxer. "I know damn good and well you're going to use that 'on a hot summer night would you offer your throat to the wolf with the red roses' on me somewhere down the line."

"Probably not until I've given birth. Where is he?"

Joxer, who was working on a second piece of cake (Hestia really could bake) pointed with his fork. "Bliss is giving him his present. I don't know what it is exactly, but I got a glimpse of the package when he went to store it, and it was making noises."

"Ah, crap," said Ares. "I was hoping that he wouldn't get an animal till he was ready to move into his own place in a couple of decades. I'd better go check it out."

As he started toward the walkway, Joxer waved, trying to catch his attention. "Uh, Ar? I'm not sure that's a good idea."

Ares called back over his shoulder. "It's his natal day: I'm not going to try to make him give it up. I just want to know what I should expect."

As Ares came to a dead halt, staring into the darkend mouth of the hallway, Joxer muttered, "I think maybe you are getting an idea of what to expect."