Frank and Hazel spent the first fifteen years of their lives living side by side. Their parents were neighbors living on adjoining lands in the Lesbian countryside. They were simple people whose main concerns were the fruit of the earth and the portions of their labor taken by their landlords.

Frank lived with his mother and grandmother. His father had died in war when he was young and his mother had decided to remain unmarried, so that he grew up as the only man in the household. His grandmother unbraided him on a daily basis for his unwarlike nature, but Frank was content herding goats for his mother. They grew onions and leeks, but a majority of their sustenance came from the goats Frank looked after.

Their landlord was a wealthy man from the city named Poseidon who visited once a year to take stock of his land and livestock. He owned vast tracts of land in the surrounding countryside, his only rival being the dame Athena who owned the land where Hazel's family worked on.

Hazel's family consisted of her father, stepmother, and two half-siblings. Hazel's mother, Marie, had died in childbirth, leaving Maria to suckle two babies at once. Maria was a kind, but strict woman who treated Hazel equally despite her being the daughter of a Aethiopian slave. Hazel grew up buttered with affection by her older sister, Bianca, and played with Nico. They were all taught how to read and write by Maria and Hazel thought of her as her own mother.

Frank, Will, and Leo were their neighbors of the same age and spirit. Will was the sunniest lad in the countryside and knew more about herbal remedies than most housewives. His face, freckled by the sun, was fair to look on and he had a way of making Nico laugh. That morning, they were both gathering berries beside the brook. They often liked to wrestle together and when Nico would get hurt, Will would fuss over him.

     Leo was a neatherd who had a sweet dog named Festus. His parents were both blacksmiths. Leo lived nearer to Will than to any of the others and, consequentially, Hazel saw him less, but he was the silliest person she knew.

    That day, Frank and Hazel were working side by side as they usually did. It was a mild day with only a slight breeze wafting the scent of the oak grove nearby and the late summer flowers. The herds were grazing, sunshine making them content and lazy.  Frank kept a slingshot and rocks with him at all times lest some predator threaten his herd. Hazel was armed with a dagger, which she kept strapped to the belt tied around her waist.

     Frank led his herd of goats down to the stream to drink and Hazel guided her sheep there too. The livestock dipped their heads into the flowing stream, lapping up the cool, sweet water. The stream was dotted with bushes and there Frank and Hazel relaxed in the shade of an oak tree.

Hazel found a long, slender stick and used it to sketch in the dirt. While the herds drank water, she drew a flock of sheep led by a shepherdess. "You're a good artist," Frank remarked.

Hazel blushed, fanning herself at the compliment. "I get a lot of practice. How are things at your home?"

Frank shrugged. "The usual. My grandmother is working on a new bowl and my mother is weaving tunics for the fall."

"Your mother is the best weaver I know," Hazel said.

Frank smiled. "The cloth she uses is spun from your sheep's wool."

    "And your goats make the most delicious cheese I have ever tasted," Hazel replied.

Hazel stood up. The shade was deliciously cool, but she wanted to stretch her legs and feel the sun against the back her neck. "Come on sheep," she called. "Let's go to the pasture again."

     The sheep had started munching on the plants near the stream once their thirst was slackened. The promise of tender grass drew them forward and they followed Hazel back to the meadow. Hazel made sure each of her sheep cane along with her. She knew each of them by name and would often give them scratches behind their ears or tickle their chins.

     Frank gathered up his goats by whistling like a bird. He had a knack for imitating animals from the roar of the fierce lion to bleating of a goat. His goats followed him like duckling after their mother and he counted them off as they joined Hazel and her flock of sheep in the meadow. The two flocks mingled together, sheep and goat munching side by side.

The goatherd and shepherdess spent the rest of their day amiably talking and looking after their charges. There was an easy friendship between them born of familiarity and mutual affection. They only stopped when the sun was setting and they had to lead their charges back to their homes. They said their usual goodbyes and headed homewards. Both Frank and Hazel were ignorant of love's power but that was all about to change.

***
Atop his bower on Olympus, Eros was reclining with his mother against feather-stuffed pillows. They were gossiping about the most recent affairs. Hermes had gotten rebuffed by a naiad and Eos was in love with another handsome mortal. There was much talk of lovers' quarrels and cruel rejections. Aphrodite sighed and looked at her son. "We haven't had a good love story in a long while. Trysts and flings — yes, but a great love story? — no."

    Eros nodded and his far-reaching eyes caught sight of two figures in the countryside. "Fair mother," he said, "I think the two of us can weave another great romance."

      Aphrodite followed his gaze and a smile rose on her lips. "They say love is blind, but your sight is as clear as ever. Let us go down to fair Lesbos and join these youths in love."