These are non-canon stories for Favor of Athena

Threads of Connection

A golden light filtered through the oak trees at Riverfront Park, where the air buzzed with the laughter of children and the distant echo of a saxophone. Athena leaned against a weathered wooden railing, the scent of honeysuckle heavy in the air. She watched a small boy chase a squirrel, laughter bubbling out of him like water from a spring.

"Can you believe today?” Liam strolled up beside her, a steaming cup of coffee in hand. “First the seminars, then this park. One day, I feel like I’ve done a week’s worth of things.”

She chuckled, glancing at him. “And yet, you never take a minute to breathe, do you? What’s next? Water skiing in the lake?”

“Maybe I’ll just corner the market on caffeine,” he said with a wink.

Nearby, Gertrude sat on a bench, knitting furiously yet methodically. She cast an occasional amused glance towards the young couple taking selfies. “Kids these days,” she muttered, shaking her head but smiling. She was crafting their little world from colorful yarn, each stitch a reminder that connected lives were like the threads in her project—intertwined, sometimes frayed at the edges.

“Hey, Gert!” Grant, a lanky figure, approached, his voice light but tinged with a hint of concern. “Have you seen Waldo?”

Gertrude rolled her eyes but teased, “Should I put an ad up? ‘Have you seen this man? Disappears as swiftly as my yarn supply!’”

At that moment, Waldo ambled by, holding a dozen bright cupcakes, the sugary aroma wafting through the park. “Did someone say my name?” He grinned, his pink apron still on from the bakery.

“Waldo! We were about to begin the search party,” Grant laughed, shaking his head.

“Please. Everyone knows I’m never far from my sugar,” Waldo replied, “And this park needed a little sweetness today. Who wants one?”

With a flurry of movement, everyone gravitated towards him, a little congregation of shared laughter and frosting-covered hopes.

“Why do I get the feeling these are going to bring spontaneous decisions?” Emaj said, appearing suddenly beside Waldo. She raised an eyebrow, the corners of her mouth lifting in mischievous anticipation.

“If we make it a cupcake mission to Main Street, I’m in,” Paige chimed in, her enthusiasm bubbling over. She was perpetually excited about everything, a beacon of positivity.

“Count me out if it involves skipping my practice,” Athena said, her brows knitting.

“Oh come on! Just live a little!” Liam replied, his playful tone contrasting her seriousness.

“You live too much!” she shot back, but the smile tugging at her lips betrayed her.

As the group meandered toward Main Street, a small storm of voices filled the gap between them, and amidst scraps of conversation, revelations began to blossom. Emaj shared her latest ideas about art exhibits while Gertrude chimed in with a story about her first gallery showing.

“You know,” Gertrude said, pausing in her knitting, “finding connections between yourself and the world is key. I used to be scared to interact in a community, but look at us.”

“Yeah, who would’ve thought this little park could be the heart of such a grand expedition?” Waldo grinned, offering cupcakes around.

“I’ll take one if it comes with a condition,” Athena teased. “You court me with sweetness, and I’ll think about taking a break from that violin.”

“Deal!” Waldo laughed, while Grant nudged him jokingly.

They reached an old bookstore, where they cluster into the musty wonders of forgotten tales. In moments of silence among the books, small threads tightened, weaving together their stories beneath the afternoon sun, bringing them closer together.

At day’s end, as they left the store, the sky began to blush with the colors of dusk. Each of them felt a little lighter, as if the weight of the day had peeled back layers and revealed newfound connections hidden beneath the mundane.

“Maybe tomorrow we could revisit the park and pick where we left off,” Emaj proposed, laughter echoing around them.

“Yeah, maybe a cupcake quest, too,” Grant added.

As they dispersed, one by one, tiny pieces of their collective day stuck with them—each interaction, a thread weaving them back into the tapestry of each other’s lives, subtly reminding them that connection often unfolds in the most unexpected ways.