No More Olympus

Chapter 17

Hera's home was nothing too remarkable.
It was a simple isolated cottage off of a back dirt road made from simple red bricks that had faded over many years of being exposed to the sun.
Off to the side was a small garden, littered with blooming lilies that nearly glowed in the afternoon sun. Lilies were, of course, Hera's favourite, so there was no mystery as to why they were there.
Together this all made for a modest yet warm-looking home that reflected Hera's new change in demeanour.
The view, however, was fantastic.
The house was surrounded by lush green grass from all angles, and her backyard overlooked a cliff that displayed a vast ocean.
From the front yard and driveway, one could barely make out Mount Olympus in the distance, its mighty presence overlooking the land as if it still had the authority of the gods behind its gaze.
Hera parked her bike in the small garage filled with gardening tools attached to the cottage before walking back out to greet her four new guests, her eyes flashed with magical power as the garage door closed itself.
"Well, this is my little home," Hera presented, "You guys seem to have had a long day. Come inside, I'll fix you something."
"Won't say no to that," Hermes grinned as they were led inside.
The inside of Hera's home thematically matched the outside exactly.
It was immaculate. There wasn't a speck of dust on anything, nothing was scattered across the floor, and even her magazines were perfectly lined up on the coffee table and alphabetized.
Athena thought back to her own home, which had never looked this organized. Her instinct would have been to blame the two children she lived with, but then she thought back to her temple on Olympus and realized that argument wouldn't hold up at all.
The house had soft lavender-coloured walls and cream-coloured kitchen tiles. The wall was decorated with ceramic flowers, prints of classic Greek paintings, and signs with inspirational quotes.
Athena paused in front of the mantlepiece. Above it was Hera's staff, the one she carried as queen of the gods with a crystal flower on the end mounted to the wall. On the shelf below made of cleanly cut white stone held a series of framed photographs.
From right to left, there was a newspaper clipping of Hestia next to the queen of England of all people. A relatively new-looking photo of Hera and Demeter in some sort of greenhouse. An old mugshot photograph from the forties of Dionysus. A picture of a statue of Apollo that bore a striking resemblance to the god himself. An even older-looking photo of Hebe that seemed to be taken as some sort of art piece, a painting of Hephaestus. A picture of Enyo in an ad targeted to women for military recruitment. A magazine ad of Hermes selling shoes, and finally what seemed to be a frame from some sort of old black and white movie where Aphrodite was an extra in the background.
"Can I interest you guys in coffee or tea?" Hera asked, pulling Athena's attention away from the mantelpiece.
"Coffee, please," Athena politely requested. There seemed to be consensus around that choice.
Hera's fingertips began to glow white before suddenly the room sparked to life. Mugs slowly floated out of the cupboard and onto the table as the kettle ran itself under the running sink and began to boil on the stovetop that miraculously turned on.
Plates glided onto the table, where they were then covered in cookies and other treats, which arranged themselves in a spiral, only lying still to allow the sugar dish to scoot right next to them.
The sudden storm of dishware caught none of them by surprise. This was Hera's power, it allowed her to move most objects using only her mind and a few finger gestures. It could be precise enough to fix afternoon coffee or powerful enough to level city blocks.
But unlike most gods, she hardly used the power around mortals, leading it to mostly be absent from the legends. Which mostly spoke of her talent for casting spells, something all Olympians could do but that Hera truly excelled at.
As the kitchen eventually calmed down, Hermes reached at the plate of cookies which suddenly inched itself away.
"Did you wash your hands?" Hera questioned.
Hermes paused then, without another word, walked toward the bathroom.
Hera turned to Ares and, without even having to say anything, he turned to follow Hermes.
Aphrodite, likely looking for any excuse to leave, followed Ares, leaving Athena alone with Hera.
"I'm sure I don't have to remind you?" Hera chuckled as the kettle floated over and rested itself on the table.
"No," Athena agreed, "I've learned to wash my hands religiously."
"Yeah, kids will do that to you," Hera nodded as the kettle filled two of the cups, "Though I never thought I would've needed to warn you about that."
"Yeah, that seems to be the consensus," Athena said as she sipped her coffee.
"What changed, if I may?" Hera asked politely.
Athena paused for a moment.
She considered the irony of Hera, of all people engaging in polite conversation with one of Zeus's 'bastard' children, something she never did back on Olympus.
"I don't know," Athena thought aloud, "With Olympus gone... I guess my priorities changed before I even realized it. With a little help from the fates."
"Those inconsiderate bitches," Hera remarked.
Athena chuckled.
"I like your mantlepiece," she said, "All the photos, was that Zeus's idea?"
"No, it was mine," Hera corrected.
"You?" Athena questioned, "You put up a shrine that's fifty percent bastard children?"
Hera seemingly cringed at the word 'bastard.'
"Well, like it or not," Hera explained, "They're his children, I can't change that, and I shouldn't blame them for their existence, and whether I like it or not, I was the queen of the Olympians, and the Olympians are my kin so..."
"That's a pretty big change in outlook," Athena remarked.
"Yeah, I'm still looking for a few photos to add," Hera continued. "Poseidon and Hades, which I don't see getting any time soon. Artemis, who seemed to have disappeared completely and you and Ares, who were so nice as to appear in person. So if you don't mind I'd like to grab a few shots of you both before you go."
"Sure," Athena smiled, deciding that she very much liked this new Hera, "I can do you one better, though."
She opened her wallet and pulled out the picture of her family, sliding it across the table to give to Hera.
"Are you sure I can have this?" Hera asked.
"It's fine," Athena assured her, "I have a million of them at home. We sent them out with last year's Christmas cards."
"Oh, look at that," Hera remarked as she took a closer look at the photo, "They both have Metis's- er your eyes."
Hera rarely mentioned Athena's mother. In fact, none of the elder Olympians who knew Metis ever spoke of her. Athena guessed it was because Zeus forbade it. Still, it was little slips like that that reminded her that Hera knew her when they fought together during the war against the Titans.
"Yeah," Athena nodded, "A pair of gray eyes seem to be non-negotiable."
"Lucky for them," Hera complimented. She looked over her shoulder, "They're taking a long time in the bathroom."
"They're probably having a discussion of their own," Athena guessed, "You may have noticed, but Aphrodite's terrified of you."
"Yes, I did," Hera said, her voice growing colder.
Athena decided not to pry.
Hera might have grown past her hatred of Zeus's illegitimate children, but she clearly had not extended the same courtesy to the woman who laughed in the face of marriage. Be it that of the mortals she manipulated or her own with Hera's own son.
The others finally returned from the bathroom and slowly took their seat. Hera made the kettle float across the table to fill each of their cups.
"So, how has everyone been?" Hera asked, moving down the table.
"Awesome," Hermes said with a grin, his mouth already full of cookies moments after sitting down.
Hera glared at him for talking with his mouth full. If there was one thing Hera had always hated more than her husband's bastard children, unfaithful spouses, and millipedes, it was bad table manners.
Don't ask about the millipedes.
"Sorry," he said, washing down his cookies, "As I said, I'm doing awesome. I'm a rich, handsome athlete in LA. I have that vapid little town wrapped around my pinky finger."
Athena grew concerned with this statement. Typically, when Hermes had someone wrapped around his finger, it meant they were going to have a 'kick me' sign pinned to their back, or they would have been convinced while drunk that Zeus was secretly a shapeshifter in disguise and that he needed his victims help with stabbing it in the back.
She wondered what the equivalent of that was on a municipal scale.
Hera then turned to Aphrodite.
"And you?" She asked.
Aphrodite looked physically ill at this moment.
"I'm fine," she muttered.
"Good," Hera nodded, "Destroy any more marriages lately?"
"Ares!" Athena loudly interrupted, "Why don't you... say something."
She motioned her eyes toward Aphrodite to display her intention.
"Ah yes," Ares agreed, "Well, as Hermes said earlier, I run a boxing gym back in the United States. I have moved in quite recently. It was quite a surprise to learn Athena and I lived in the same town, I have one student, but I'm looking to rebuild the Spartans for the modern-day and use this new force to return the Olympians to their former glory."
"Bring back the Olympians?" Hera questioned, "Honey, you need to let that go. The Olympians are gone."
"They are not gone," Ares objected, "We are the Olympians, all that would be required to retake our power would be to reach out and grab it."
"And you think the world governments would just let us take back that power with no issue?" Hera asked, "We had a good run, but it's time to move on."
"You sound just like Athena," Ares grunted.
"Well, Athena is right," Hera said.
Athena chose the wrong moment to sip her drink, nearly choking on it at Hera's last statement.
"You okay?" Hera asked, patting her on the shoulder as Athena violently coughed and struggled to catch her breath.
"I'm fine," she choked, "It's just hot."
"But with the power of Zeus behind us," Ares continued, "All we would need is a single demonstration of power to reclaim what's rightfully ours."
Hera hesitated as if debating whether or not to say what she was thinking.
"Honey," Hera began, squeezing Ares's hand, "Your father... is not the same man who you knew. Losing Olympus changed him, it changed us all, but it hit him hardest."
"How did it change him?" Athena asked.
"He got..." Hera continued, "Darker, not angry. he hasn't been angry for a while, he's just sad. He defined his entire life by Olympus. It was his greatest achievement, then it was taken away from him."
"But you seemed to have taken it well, new job, tough-looking motorcycle," Athena observed, "What changed for you?"
"I guess my perspective," Hera admitted, "I went from being this all-powerful goddess to hiding as a common woman, and I would hear these stories passed down among the women of the village about this vengeful goddess be her name Hera or Juno or whatever else they called me over the years. Who claimed to be the defender and goddess of women but would spend all her time throwing her rage at innocent girls and children who didn't know any better, after a while it just started eating me alive. I couldn't think, couldn't sleep, couldn't live, so I decided enough was enough. So I started, in secret of course, to start giving back, that's why I went and became a doctor so I could let the most in need come to me. Of course, I can't do too much without blowing my cover but no one is going to be too skeptical of a father of three's cancer suddenly going into remission, a stillborn miraculously taking its first breath, or someone getting to hold on a little longer to properly say goodbye. I still can't go back and make it up to the people I hurt, they're long gone now, but it's better than nothing."
"And what about father?" Athena asked, "Where did you two go after Olympus?"
"We stayed in Greece," Hera explained, "I think Zeus was hesitant to leave. We did our best to avoid the fighting at the end of the Peloponnesian war, and then the Romans came in. He had a little splash of hope when our stories found new life. He thought that might have been a way to bring back the pantheon, but of course, nothing came of it so here we stayed. You should be glad you weren't here when they named the planets, I guarantee you if he still had the bolt Jupiter wouldn't be there anymore, just a bunch of space junk. A little while later I bought this little patch of land with some drachma I found in Olympus and have just been coming up with a lineage of fake identities so when one gets too old I just pass it on to my 'child' and no one really bats an eye."
"Wait, no one's noticed?" Hermes questioned, seemingly very impressed with the scheme.
"Well, what's more believable?" Hera asked mischievously, "That I look remarkably like my great, great grandmother or that I'm an immortal goddess."
"I would have never guessed that you would be so tricky," Hermes complimented.
"Well, who do you think was the prankster before you?" Hera asked, "You really think Poseidon of all gods would be painting rude words on the Helm of Hades with paint magically enchanted to only be visible once it was on the creep's head."
"What changed?" Hermes asked.
"Well, that wasn't exactly exemplary behaviour for the queen of the gods and a mother of four," Hera explained, "But you know, I still got a few good tricks in now and then."
"You said you and Zeus stayed in Greece?" Athena asked, trying to get back on topic.
"Yes," Hera nodded.
"So, where is he?" Athena demanded.
"He's upstairs," Hera admitted.
"Upstairs," Athena repeated, hardly believing it, "Does he know we're here?"
"I called him on the way over here," Hera explained, "He asked not to be disturbed for the time being."
"Not to be disturbed?" Athena growled, "The entire reason we are here in the first place is to see him. This isn't a social call. We're not here to catch up on old times. We're here because it might be the end of the world as we know it and he's the only one who can tell us how to fix this mess."
Athena was shouting by this point and intentionally so. She wanted her father to hear her.
"And he wants not to be disturbed?" Athena continued, "Screw that. We've been through too much shit because of what he did! To let him have that luxury, he needs to get down here now, you FUCKING COWARD!"
A series of expressions ranging from surprise to shock to fear spread across their various faces.
No child of Zeus had ever spoken to him that way. In fact, no one had ever spoken to him that way and not been greeted with a lightning bolt.
There was a noticeable pause in the air.
Athena's heart was beating in her throat, terrified at what may come next.
Her own words had even surprised herself. She had spoken negatively about her father in the past but never with such uncontrollable rage that allowed her to damn the consequences.
"Hera," a deep booming voice called from upstairs.
She immediately stood up and walked toward the staircase.
"Please wait here," Hera requested. Athena found it hard to place her expression. It almost appeared to be a look of acceptance, but acceptance for what was anyone's best guess.
She slowly disappeared up the stairs leaving the four younger gods all alone.
"What in Hades are you doing?" Hermes hissed, "Are you trying to get yourself smited?"
"Is it smited or smoted?" Ares joked, "Or are the two interchangeable?"
It was clear that Ares was enjoying this. His voice was filled with the same glee a child would have after they watched their sibling break their mom's lamp with a stray baseball.
"It's okay," Aphrodite thought aloud in a panic, "You can work with this. Just play it off as a joke. That's what worked for me in the past."
"Did it?" Hermes questioned.
She hesitated.
"Nice knowing you, babe," Aphrodite sighed, sounding genuinely fearful.
"I don't regret a thing I said," Athena declared, standing strong and trying to put the very real fear out of her mind, "I am done letting him decide what I do. He's done it for too long."
Hera finally returned from upstairs.
"He would like to speak with you," she announced.
The four stood up and began to ready themselves to meet the king of the gods.
"Wait, not all of you," Hera corrected, "Just Athena."
Ares's face dropped.
Aphrodite and Hermes sighed in relief and sat back down.
"Just Athena?" Ares repeated, sounding confused and hurt, "What do you mean, Athena?"
"He specifically requested it," Hera explained.
"Fine," Athena nodded, her tone still full of fury and harshness, "He wants to talk. I'll give the talk of a lifetime."
She marched toward the staircase, rage bubbling under the surface.
"Last door on the right," Hera said with a sigh.