No More Olympus

Chapter 18

Athena stared at the simple brown door with dread, knowing that behind it was her father, Zeus.
A man she hadn't seen in years.
A man who used to shape her every action, whether he meant to or not.
She looked to her side to see an open window and considered the consequences of transforming into an owl and flying far away as if she had never been there.
She shook the idea from her head and ordered herself to focus.
The last thing she ever wanted to do was speak to her father, especially not after she loudly insulted him within earshot. But she was a goddess on a mission. She needed information that only Zeus knew, information on how to go back to her normal life.
She cautiously gripped the brass doorknob. Her heart felt like it was about to leap out of her chest at any moment.
"Here we go," she mumbled to herself, "Just rip off the band-aid."
She pushed the door open and found herself in the master bedroom. Inside was a king-sized bed that was remarkably similar to her own. Athena noticed that one side of the bed had significantly more pillows than the other and naturally assumed it was Hera's side.
The walls were covered in wooden panelling as well as several amateur photos of birds in flight.
For the first time since she got here, she began to see evidence of her father.
Zeus typically spent his personal time in three ways, having affairs, walking around Olympus to scowl at his children and bird-watching.
Whenever Zeus went on long godly business trips, he typically brought Athena, and as they travelled, he would bore her with every single anecdote about birds he could think of, about their patterns and breeds, mating rituals and diet.
As boring as she found these talks, they remained a bright spot in her memory as some of the few moments the two actually felt like they were a proper father and daughter.
However, those bright spots had faded over the years.
Directly in front of her was a balcony with an open screen door covered by white linen curtains that blew in the wind. In these white curtains was a silhouette of someone sitting in a chair enjoying the summer breeze.
As Athena slowly approached the silhouette, she thought back to when she would play out her reunion with Zeus in her head and the many ways she came up with to tell him to go to hell. She was thinking as quickly as possible as to what opening line to use.
"Father," she began, doing her best to sound strong, "Son of Kronos, King of Kings, it's been a while."
She finally stepped onto the balcony and saw what was behind the curtain.
Every speech she had come up with in the past suddenly disappeared from her mind.
She expected to be delivering each and every one of them to the same Zeus from her memories.
Tall, muscular, imposing with a magnificent beard and clad in royal armour forged by Hephaestus.
But what she found on the balcony wasn't that.
Instead, she found a skinny, weak-looking man with thinning white hair and no beard to speak of at all. It looked as if life itself had been sucked out of him, leaving him dry and wanting. There were only two things that identified him as Zeus, first was his eyes, piercing and blue as the summer sky.
The second was the unique scar on his forehead that she was all too familiar with.
"Hello Athena," Zeus greeted.
She was at a loss for words. She simply stood there with her jaw dropped.
"Do you wish to say something or not?" Zeus questioned.
"What happened to you?" Was all Athena could manage to say.
"Does it matter how?" Zeus asked, "All that matters is that this is what is."
Athena took a moment to sit in the seat next to her father.
"How have you been?" Zeus asked.
"Do you care?" Athena asked once she composed herself.
"I am your father," Zeus reasoned.
"Do you care?" Athena repeated.
The two stared at each other.
"There's a ring on your right hand," Zeus observed, breaking the silence.
Athena crossed her arms, hiding her right hand from view. "What of it?" She asked.
"Care to explain?" He asked.
"Let's not pretend you don't know what it means," Athena retorted, "Need I remind you you're wearing one yourself."
Zeus lifted his right hand to look at the gold band around his fourth finger.
"What's his name?" Zeus demanded.
"Feel free to take it personally if I don't tell you who he is," Athena declined.
"Is he a god?" He asked.
Athena sighed.
"No," she shook her head, "As much as it may annoy you, he is not a god."
"Shame," he remarked.
"If it interests you," She continued, "You have two new grandchildren."
"Are they gods?" He asked.
"It's too early to tell, but I find it unlikely," she answered.
"Shame," he repeated, looking out at the waters on the horizon.
Athena glared at him.
"That's it?" She asked, her voice clearly indicating her offence, "Are they gods? No, okay, don't care, fuck off, see you next century."
"Do not take that tone with me, daughter," Zeus ordered, his fist clenched.
"No," Athena rejected, "I will take whatever fucking tone I want, thank you very much, 'father'."
She was close to shouting again. There was no doubt in her mind that she could be heard downstairs in the kitchen.
"You absolute bastard," Athena began, "It's been more than two thousand years and the only words you can think to say to your 'favourite daughter', are to completely write off her family simply because they don't meet his standards. Oh, I forgot, the simple lives of mortals aren't important enough for the great Zeus, son of Kronos, king of fuck all. Good lord, what would you have said if I were your least favourite? Oh wait, I forgot, he's downstairs with his mother, wondering why his own father won't speak to him after two thousand years!"
Athena paused to breathe.
"Are you finished?" Zeus asked calmly.
"I will never be finished," Athena declared, staring her father straight in his eyes, "You have had this coming for half a millennium with all the shit you pulled."
"I've done what was necessary for the sake of Olympus," Zeus argued, "Ruling is not always about good vs evil. It's about doing what is necessary to survive."
"And we're surviving just great," Athena said dryly, "At least three of us are long dead and the rest are scattered across the planet like a fart in the wind."
Zeus could sense the guilt in Athena's words.
"I do not blame you for what happened that day," He assured her.
"I do," Athena admitted, "If it wasn't for me, my brothers might still be alive today, Hephaestus would still be in his forge, Apollo would still be annoying us with his crappy music, Hebe wouldn't be a widow."
She paused for a moment.
"I was trying to convince them of our glory," she continued, "I should have been negotiating, and instead, I raised a weapon, the goddess of wisdom should have known better. I should have known better."
She leaned back in her chair and cupped her face in her hands.
"But I was too busy trying to look good for you, to tow the family ideals and play to my own bullshit pride."
"Are you trying to blame me for this?" Zeus asked, "You're blaming your pride on me?"
"No," Athena sighed, "I'm using it as an example. You've tainted us all with your bullshit. You've taught each and every one of your sons that it's okay to stick your twig in everything that moves regardless of the consequences. You taught us all to be so thin-skinned that we can't even shrug off the tiniest slight against us. You taught us that the lives of mortals matter so little that we can do whatever we want to them for said slights. Whether it be striking them down, destroying their lives or cursing them to roam the earth in the most hideous monster we could think of at the time."
"Your sins are not mine," Zeus reminded her, "I only hold the blame for my own."
"We were children!" Athena screamed, "We were young, stupid, and impulsive. It's a father's job to tell his children not to act that way, so when they become adults, they're not plagues on their society. I watch a thirty-year-old mortal do this every day, you have several hundreds of thousands of years on him, and you have yet to figure that out."
"Is that what attracts you to this mortal?" Zeus asked, "That he appears to be my opposite?"
"Maybe," Athena admitted, "He doesn't betray the woman he claims to love anyway."
"Betray," Zeus scoffed.
"Oh, okay," Athena nodded, leaning forward in her chair, "Let's go down the list, shall we? You betrayed your wife Hera with a series of flings and then proceeded to throw all your mistresses under the bus when they became inconvenient to protect."
"Athena, that's enough," he barked.
"Before that, you had your 'bachelor phase'," she continued, ignoring her father's wishes, "Where you proceeded to have a series of flings with Mnemosyne, Themis and Demeter and left them to deal with the products of said unions until they became useful to you."
"Athena, stop!" Zeus ordered.
"And then, of course, Metis, my own mother, your first victim." Athena continued with newfound hate in her eyes.
"I loved your mother!" Zeus objected.
"You threw her into Tartarus!" Athena shouted, leaping to her feet, "While she was pregnant with your daughter, and you were fully aware of the fact!"
"I did that to protect Olympus!" Zeus argued, shouting equally as loudly.
"From what!" Athena demanded.
"From you!" Zeus declared.
A cold wind blew over the balcony.
"It was prophesied you would overthrow me," Zeus said, taking a breath and speaking much more calmly.
"Hold on, you said Gaia's prophecy said Metis's son would overthrow you," Athena pressured, a flurry of emotions running through her head, "First a daughter, then a son, so why would you need to protect Olympus from me."
"Gaia's prophecy said nothing of the slightest," Zeus sighed, realizing what he had just admitted, "I hid what was said in the hopes you would not feel motivated to fulfil it. What the prophecy said was that the first child of Metis would dethrone Olympus's king, the prophecy did not clarify a sex."
"So that means..." Athena began, trying to wrap her head around what she had just been told.
"You were the child prophesied to overthrow me," Zeus explained, "Which of course you ended up doing even if it was inadvertently. That is why I do not blame you for the fall of Olympus. I blame myself..."
Athena had to take a moment to breathe.
"If you knew this, why didn't you destroy me when you first saw me?" Athena asked, still in shock.
"I couldn't," Zeus hung his head low shamefully.
"What do you mean you couldn't?" Athena demanded, "You had the lightning bolt you could have evaporated me before I said, 'Hi Dad,' and we both know you weren't afraid to use it."
"I almost did," Zeus admitted.
"What stopped you?" Athena questioned.
"Your eyes," Zeus explained, his voice was low and solemn, "Exactly as Metis's were. You were all I had left of her. So instead, I kept you close. So I could keep an eye on you and prevent whatever you would have done to fulfill the prophecy. So I wouldn't have to destroy you, so I wouldn't have to destroy her."
The two locked eyes.
Athena's tongue had turned dry.
"But you wish you did?" She asked, "So Olympus would still be here?"
"Yes," Zeus answered.
Athena noticed tears in her father's eyes.
"Okay then," Athena nodded, her face cold as stone.
For the first time in her life since being pregnant, she felt like she was about to throw up, "Fine, just tell me how to close the box, and I'll be gone."
"It is not worth it," Zeus warned her.
"How about I decide if it's worth it or not," Athena recommended.
Zeus sighed.
"Closing the box requires a sacrifice," He explained, "It must take something from you of equal value to what you wish to seal away."
Athena quickly put two and two together.
"So that's why you're like this," She said, "You gave up your powers, you gave up that damn lightning bolt."
She pulled the pen-sized bronze object they found in Pandora's box out and showed it to him.
He reached out to grab it.
"No," Athena denied him, holding it out of his reach, "You're not getting this back."
"We both know you're not powerful enough to use that," Zeus reminded her.
"I don't need it," Athena sneered, "I'm already doing better than you without it."
Zeus looked down at his weak and frail form.
"That is why I tell you not to close the box, "He explained, "No monster on earth is worth hiding if it leads to living like this."
"Like a powerless mortal?" Athena asked.
Zeus didn't answer.
"Thank you," Athena said, "That's all I needed."
She was about to turn away when she paused.
"I gave Hera a photo of your grandchildren if you ever find you're interested," she explained, "But I don't expect you to be."
She finally turned to leave and disappear behind the curtain before she was stopped.
"What are their names?" Zeus called out.
Athena paused.
"The boy is Alexander," Athena answered, "and the baby girl is Odessa."
She then walked back inside.