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The darkness caressed her skin like a lover, so deep and dark that she could not even see her hands in front of her face. She had known a darkness like this once, had practically been born to it -- tossed into the mouth of a monster so shortly after her birth. It was a blackness that was unending, no matter how far she walked in any direction. And then the darkness began to consume her too. It was slow at first, just the pinpricks of pain as the darkness revealed itself to be a monster too.
Like a leech, it fed on her -- drawing away the light and warmth until she was nothing. She was nothing, cold and dark. She was the darkness.
Hera sucked air through her teeth, jerking into consciousness with a twist of the sheets. The silk twined around her legs, threading between her thighs, a smooth but effective trapping. She tore at it with a ragged breath, struggling to be free until it finally gave way. A curse tumbled from her lips as she lifted a hand to her heaving chest, as if she could slow the thunderous racing of her heart with just the gentle pressure.
There was a cacophony of sound being muffled by the walls of her sanctum, candlelight flickering to life by her will alone to wash the walls in soft glow. She sat up, fully nude with nothing but a tangle of blonde hair to cover her. It cascaded in an unruly wave, catching the candlelight like the rest of the gold that decorated her most sacred place. Even Zeus was rarely welcomed here, not after his antics as the cuckoo. It was different from the place where she so rarely entertained, where she had hosted the other Gods. This was her private residence, her temple where she enjoyed her solitude.
The raucous sound continued, and with a lateness she realized that it was the birds that she kept for her pleasure. She loved songbirds, and enjoyed their sweet titterings whenever she chose to grace her own sanctum. She could not recall their number, but it was easily hundreds if not thousands and they were all screaming in a disjointed chorus -- an echo of her fear.
Hera, the unrivaled Queen of Olympus, was afraid.
She shook her head, dropping her head into her hand as that feeling tightened in her chest. She could not recall feeling fear before she’d become mortal, the raw human emotion curling up in her chest like a snake, striking when she least expected it. Or at least, that was what she told herself. Her palm pressed to her forehead, pressing heavily as she gritted her teeth.
With a flourish, a flick of her hand, the birds outside quieted. She wasn’t sure how long they had been crying, if anyone else had heard them or would know what it meant. Zeus, if he were close enough, would know that something was wrong -- whether he deigned to check on his wife was another matter. It was an intensely private struggle, and only a handful of times had she gone to him for comfort. Her Zeus, her savior and protector. He would not let anyone else keep her in darkness...right?
This character is currently a work in progress.
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This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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The darkness caressed her skin like a lover, so deep and dark that she could not even see her hands in front of her face. She had known a darkness like this once, had practically been born to it -- tossed into the mouth of a monster so shortly after her birth. It was a blackness that was unending, no matter how far she walked in any direction. And then the darkness began to consume her too. It was slow at first, just the pinpricks of pain as the darkness revealed itself to be a monster too.
Like a leech, it fed on her -- drawing away the light and warmth until she was nothing. She was nothing, cold and dark. She was the darkness.
Hera sucked air through her teeth, jerking into consciousness with a twist of the sheets. The silk twined around her legs, threading between her thighs, a smooth but effective trapping. She tore at it with a ragged breath, struggling to be free until it finally gave way. A curse tumbled from her lips as she lifted a hand to her heaving chest, as if she could slow the thunderous racing of her heart with just the gentle pressure.
There was a cacophony of sound being muffled by the walls of her sanctum, candlelight flickering to life by her will alone to wash the walls in soft glow. She sat up, fully nude with nothing but a tangle of blonde hair to cover her. It cascaded in an unruly wave, catching the candlelight like the rest of the gold that decorated her most sacred place. Even Zeus was rarely welcomed here, not after his antics as the cuckoo. It was different from the place where she so rarely entertained, where she had hosted the other Gods. This was her private residence, her temple where she enjoyed her solitude.
The raucous sound continued, and with a lateness she realized that it was the birds that she kept for her pleasure. She loved songbirds, and enjoyed their sweet titterings whenever she chose to grace her own sanctum. She could not recall their number, but it was easily hundreds if not thousands and they were all screaming in a disjointed chorus -- an echo of her fear.
Hera, the unrivaled Queen of Olympus, was afraid.
She shook her head, dropping her head into her hand as that feeling tightened in her chest. She could not recall feeling fear before she’d become mortal, the raw human emotion curling up in her chest like a snake, striking when she least expected it. Or at least, that was what she told herself. Her palm pressed to her forehead, pressing heavily as she gritted her teeth.
With a flourish, a flick of her hand, the birds outside quieted. She wasn’t sure how long they had been crying, if anyone else had heard them or would know what it meant. Zeus, if he were close enough, would know that something was wrong -- whether he deigned to check on his wife was another matter. It was an intensely private struggle, and only a handful of times had she gone to him for comfort. Her Zeus, her savior and protector. He would not let anyone else keep her in darkness...right?
The darkness caressed her skin like a lover, so deep and dark that she could not even see her hands in front of her face. She had known a darkness like this once, had practically been born to it -- tossed into the mouth of a monster so shortly after her birth. It was a blackness that was unending, no matter how far she walked in any direction. And then the darkness began to consume her too. It was slow at first, just the pinpricks of pain as the darkness revealed itself to be a monster too.
Like a leech, it fed on her -- drawing away the light and warmth until she was nothing. She was nothing, cold and dark. She was the darkness.
Hera sucked air through her teeth, jerking into consciousness with a twist of the sheets. The silk twined around her legs, threading between her thighs, a smooth but effective trapping. She tore at it with a ragged breath, struggling to be free until it finally gave way. A curse tumbled from her lips as she lifted a hand to her heaving chest, as if she could slow the thunderous racing of her heart with just the gentle pressure.
There was a cacophony of sound being muffled by the walls of her sanctum, candlelight flickering to life by her will alone to wash the walls in soft glow. She sat up, fully nude with nothing but a tangle of blonde hair to cover her. It cascaded in an unruly wave, catching the candlelight like the rest of the gold that decorated her most sacred place. Even Zeus was rarely welcomed here, not after his antics as the cuckoo. It was different from the place where she so rarely entertained, where she had hosted the other Gods. This was her private residence, her temple where she enjoyed her solitude.
The raucous sound continued, and with a lateness she realized that it was the birds that she kept for her pleasure. She loved songbirds, and enjoyed their sweet titterings whenever she chose to grace her own sanctum. She could not recall their number, but it was easily hundreds if not thousands and they were all screaming in a disjointed chorus -- an echo of her fear.
Hera, the unrivaled Queen of Olympus, was afraid.
She shook her head, dropping her head into her hand as that feeling tightened in her chest. She could not recall feeling fear before she’d become mortal, the raw human emotion curling up in her chest like a snake, striking when she least expected it. Or at least, that was what she told herself. Her palm pressed to her forehead, pressing heavily as she gritted her teeth.
With a flourish, a flick of her hand, the birds outside quieted. She wasn’t sure how long they had been crying, if anyone else had heard them or would know what it meant. Zeus, if he were close enough, would know that something was wrong -- whether he deigned to check on his wife was another matter. It was an intensely private struggle, and only a handful of times had she gone to him for comfort. Her Zeus, her savior and protector. He would not let anyone else keep her in darkness...right?
It was rare for darkness to fall on Olympus. Radiant and powerful, it was the will of the other Gods that could darken it for a time. Zeus, in his absence, couldn't be sure exactly what had started it, but once he arrived, it was palpable. The chill that accompanied the dark was piercing, and Zeus felt the shiver rack his divine form. An imperfection in his perfect Olympus. He would replenish the light, then find which Gods created the thing and incur his wrath until they fell into line.
Or at least, that's what he imagined doing. When brought to the source of the darkness, it was far from whom he'd imagined it to be.
Hera?
Part of him wanted to escape, to let her wallow in her despair alone. After all, how many times had they fought each other? Killed each other? Damned one another? He didn't bother to answer, on the verge of leaving without making his presence known up until the darkness withered away and in its place was a piercing cacophany. Birds, beasts, screeching spirits. He couldn't be sure what it was that Hera brought into being, but he could sense the powerful feelings whirling in the air.
Fear?
What was Hera afraid of? It was galling, to say the least, to see so very human a side of Hera, who was often so haughty and filled with rage, predominately directed towards him. It was a strange thing, to spectate as the birds fell silent yet again, lurking at the very edge of his wife's awareness, until the light dissipated once again and left her an almost thrashing figure in the darkness. The King of the Gods had had enough. His curiosity got the better of him, whirling him from the edge of his awareness to materialize, kneeling before his queen as he gently tipped her head so that her eyes met his.
"Hera," he breathed, letting his voice form warmth in the darkness. It shattered the silence, just as the darkness that encompassed the both of them began to dissipate. First, it was the thundercrack that pierced the heavens, but the light captured within Hera's holy sanctum, igniting torches and candles with small flames. Gently, he brought the woman into his embrace, letting a delicate touch trickle along the length of her spine. In the wake of it, followed the fabric of a peplos, coming between them in canary yellow tones that struck in stark contrast with the splotched azure chiton he donned this evening. He found he liked the way the colours fused together in places.
"What's going on?"
He did not release her if she didn't pull back, confusion and the stranger that was concern lacing his features as he drew her in.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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It was rare for darkness to fall on Olympus. Radiant and powerful, it was the will of the other Gods that could darken it for a time. Zeus, in his absence, couldn't be sure exactly what had started it, but once he arrived, it was palpable. The chill that accompanied the dark was piercing, and Zeus felt the shiver rack his divine form. An imperfection in his perfect Olympus. He would replenish the light, then find which Gods created the thing and incur his wrath until they fell into line.
Or at least, that's what he imagined doing. When brought to the source of the darkness, it was far from whom he'd imagined it to be.
Hera?
Part of him wanted to escape, to let her wallow in her despair alone. After all, how many times had they fought each other? Killed each other? Damned one another? He didn't bother to answer, on the verge of leaving without making his presence known up until the darkness withered away and in its place was a piercing cacophany. Birds, beasts, screeching spirits. He couldn't be sure what it was that Hera brought into being, but he could sense the powerful feelings whirling in the air.
Fear?
What was Hera afraid of? It was galling, to say the least, to see so very human a side of Hera, who was often so haughty and filled with rage, predominately directed towards him. It was a strange thing, to spectate as the birds fell silent yet again, lurking at the very edge of his wife's awareness, until the light dissipated once again and left her an almost thrashing figure in the darkness. The King of the Gods had had enough. His curiosity got the better of him, whirling him from the edge of his awareness to materialize, kneeling before his queen as he gently tipped her head so that her eyes met his.
"Hera," he breathed, letting his voice form warmth in the darkness. It shattered the silence, just as the darkness that encompassed the both of them began to dissipate. First, it was the thundercrack that pierced the heavens, but the light captured within Hera's holy sanctum, igniting torches and candles with small flames. Gently, he brought the woman into his embrace, letting a delicate touch trickle along the length of her spine. In the wake of it, followed the fabric of a peplos, coming between them in canary yellow tones that struck in stark contrast with the splotched azure chiton he donned this evening. He found he liked the way the colours fused together in places.
"What's going on?"
He did not release her if she didn't pull back, confusion and the stranger that was concern lacing his features as he drew her in.
It was rare for darkness to fall on Olympus. Radiant and powerful, it was the will of the other Gods that could darken it for a time. Zeus, in his absence, couldn't be sure exactly what had started it, but once he arrived, it was palpable. The chill that accompanied the dark was piercing, and Zeus felt the shiver rack his divine form. An imperfection in his perfect Olympus. He would replenish the light, then find which Gods created the thing and incur his wrath until they fell into line.
Or at least, that's what he imagined doing. When brought to the source of the darkness, it was far from whom he'd imagined it to be.
Hera?
Part of him wanted to escape, to let her wallow in her despair alone. After all, how many times had they fought each other? Killed each other? Damned one another? He didn't bother to answer, on the verge of leaving without making his presence known up until the darkness withered away and in its place was a piercing cacophany. Birds, beasts, screeching spirits. He couldn't be sure what it was that Hera brought into being, but he could sense the powerful feelings whirling in the air.
Fear?
What was Hera afraid of? It was galling, to say the least, to see so very human a side of Hera, who was often so haughty and filled with rage, predominately directed towards him. It was a strange thing, to spectate as the birds fell silent yet again, lurking at the very edge of his wife's awareness, until the light dissipated once again and left her an almost thrashing figure in the darkness. The King of the Gods had had enough. His curiosity got the better of him, whirling him from the edge of his awareness to materialize, kneeling before his queen as he gently tipped her head so that her eyes met his.
"Hera," he breathed, letting his voice form warmth in the darkness. It shattered the silence, just as the darkness that encompassed the both of them began to dissipate. First, it was the thundercrack that pierced the heavens, but the light captured within Hera's holy sanctum, igniting torches and candles with small flames. Gently, he brought the woman into his embrace, letting a delicate touch trickle along the length of her spine. In the wake of it, followed the fabric of a peplos, coming between them in canary yellow tones that struck in stark contrast with the splotched azure chiton he donned this evening. He found he liked the way the colours fused together in places.
"What's going on?"
He did not release her if she didn't pull back, confusion and the stranger that was concern lacing his features as he drew her in.
Hera.
Her eyes squeezed shut more firmly at the low rumble of the voice most familiar to her. The simultaneous relief and anger that she felt as his presence was not all that unexpected. His hands were hot against her icy skin, melting away the cold that had settled into her very soul and she allowed him to pull her into his arms. Her head found his shoulder, her blonde hair becoming a wave down his arm as she pressed into him -- breathing him in, grounding herself with his presence.
Thunder rolled above them, and she wondered if he was angry. She was not sure what had drawn him to her, perhaps the screaming birds or some other disturbance of which she was not yet aware. Her nightmares could do funny things to Olympus, or so the rumors said. Lights flickered in her awareness, and she felt herself becoming clothed under his touch which served her well. She didn’t want to be naked, hadn’t really even realized that she was naked until the cloth had appeared around her.
What is wrong? He asked, but she gave the slightest shake of her head. She did not want to speak of it yet, did not want to give the darkness life again. She curled up against him, silently grateful for his presence even if it meant that she would have to work all the harder to remind him that she was not weak. She hated herself for this, hated how much she wanted Zeus. A hundred others could offer her the life she’d always wanted with a good and faithful husband, someone who did constantly run away or lie about where he had been and yet she knew that she would never let Zeus go. Not by choice.
Silence passed between them for what felt like a long time but could not have been. Zeus was not patient in any sense of the word, and he would not hold her like this for long. She pressed into him with all the intentions of a woman who wanted to disappear, to never be.
“I…” She murmured, trying to gather the thoughts that had scattered to the furthest corners of the world. “It was the darkness.” Her voice was soft, catching on the word that described what continued to haunt her. “I was...eaten.” Even as she spoke the words, the mouth of her father -- their father -- gaped wide and foreboding in her mind. She flinched, covering her face with the hand not currently wrapped tightly in his clothes. A tired sound fell from her lips, as she shifted herself pressing in closer even though there was no room for her to do so.
”Tell me…” She began slowly. She was sure she must have asked him this before, but it was the only thing she could think to ask right now in the midst of wanting a distraction. ”What was that day like? When you...fulfilled your prophecy?” It was only then that she opened her eyes, the blue pools turning upward to look into his face. She had always been rather jealous of Zeus, truth be told. He was famed for his strength and power -- he’d had a prophecy that he’d reached out and claimed for his own and who...who was Hera in comparison? A goddess certainly but she held no such great fame. No, that wasn’t entirely true but her “fame” was in her vengeful nature against her husband’s transgressions -- not some great feat like his was. She was merely a goddess, a wife to a King and that was the only source of her power.
Her fingers traced small circles against his chest, fussing with the pale blue of his clothes.
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This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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Hera.
Her eyes squeezed shut more firmly at the low rumble of the voice most familiar to her. The simultaneous relief and anger that she felt as his presence was not all that unexpected. His hands were hot against her icy skin, melting away the cold that had settled into her very soul and she allowed him to pull her into his arms. Her head found his shoulder, her blonde hair becoming a wave down his arm as she pressed into him -- breathing him in, grounding herself with his presence.
Thunder rolled above them, and she wondered if he was angry. She was not sure what had drawn him to her, perhaps the screaming birds or some other disturbance of which she was not yet aware. Her nightmares could do funny things to Olympus, or so the rumors said. Lights flickered in her awareness, and she felt herself becoming clothed under his touch which served her well. She didn’t want to be naked, hadn’t really even realized that she was naked until the cloth had appeared around her.
What is wrong? He asked, but she gave the slightest shake of her head. She did not want to speak of it yet, did not want to give the darkness life again. She curled up against him, silently grateful for his presence even if it meant that she would have to work all the harder to remind him that she was not weak. She hated herself for this, hated how much she wanted Zeus. A hundred others could offer her the life she’d always wanted with a good and faithful husband, someone who did constantly run away or lie about where he had been and yet she knew that she would never let Zeus go. Not by choice.
Silence passed between them for what felt like a long time but could not have been. Zeus was not patient in any sense of the word, and he would not hold her like this for long. She pressed into him with all the intentions of a woman who wanted to disappear, to never be.
“I…” She murmured, trying to gather the thoughts that had scattered to the furthest corners of the world. “It was the darkness.” Her voice was soft, catching on the word that described what continued to haunt her. “I was...eaten.” Even as she spoke the words, the mouth of her father -- their father -- gaped wide and foreboding in her mind. She flinched, covering her face with the hand not currently wrapped tightly in his clothes. A tired sound fell from her lips, as she shifted herself pressing in closer even though there was no room for her to do so.
”Tell me…” She began slowly. She was sure she must have asked him this before, but it was the only thing she could think to ask right now in the midst of wanting a distraction. ”What was that day like? When you...fulfilled your prophecy?” It was only then that she opened her eyes, the blue pools turning upward to look into his face. She had always been rather jealous of Zeus, truth be told. He was famed for his strength and power -- he’d had a prophecy that he’d reached out and claimed for his own and who...who was Hera in comparison? A goddess certainly but she held no such great fame. No, that wasn’t entirely true but her “fame” was in her vengeful nature against her husband’s transgressions -- not some great feat like his was. She was merely a goddess, a wife to a King and that was the only source of her power.
Her fingers traced small circles against his chest, fussing with the pale blue of his clothes.
Hera.
Her eyes squeezed shut more firmly at the low rumble of the voice most familiar to her. The simultaneous relief and anger that she felt as his presence was not all that unexpected. His hands were hot against her icy skin, melting away the cold that had settled into her very soul and she allowed him to pull her into his arms. Her head found his shoulder, her blonde hair becoming a wave down his arm as she pressed into him -- breathing him in, grounding herself with his presence.
Thunder rolled above them, and she wondered if he was angry. She was not sure what had drawn him to her, perhaps the screaming birds or some other disturbance of which she was not yet aware. Her nightmares could do funny things to Olympus, or so the rumors said. Lights flickered in her awareness, and she felt herself becoming clothed under his touch which served her well. She didn’t want to be naked, hadn’t really even realized that she was naked until the cloth had appeared around her.
What is wrong? He asked, but she gave the slightest shake of her head. She did not want to speak of it yet, did not want to give the darkness life again. She curled up against him, silently grateful for his presence even if it meant that she would have to work all the harder to remind him that she was not weak. She hated herself for this, hated how much she wanted Zeus. A hundred others could offer her the life she’d always wanted with a good and faithful husband, someone who did constantly run away or lie about where he had been and yet she knew that she would never let Zeus go. Not by choice.
Silence passed between them for what felt like a long time but could not have been. Zeus was not patient in any sense of the word, and he would not hold her like this for long. She pressed into him with all the intentions of a woman who wanted to disappear, to never be.
“I…” She murmured, trying to gather the thoughts that had scattered to the furthest corners of the world. “It was the darkness.” Her voice was soft, catching on the word that described what continued to haunt her. “I was...eaten.” Even as she spoke the words, the mouth of her father -- their father -- gaped wide and foreboding in her mind. She flinched, covering her face with the hand not currently wrapped tightly in his clothes. A tired sound fell from her lips, as she shifted herself pressing in closer even though there was no room for her to do so.
”Tell me…” She began slowly. She was sure she must have asked him this before, but it was the only thing she could think to ask right now in the midst of wanting a distraction. ”What was that day like? When you...fulfilled your prophecy?” It was only then that she opened her eyes, the blue pools turning upward to look into his face. She had always been rather jealous of Zeus, truth be told. He was famed for his strength and power -- he’d had a prophecy that he’d reached out and claimed for his own and who...who was Hera in comparison? A goddess certainly but she held no such great fame. No, that wasn’t entirely true but her “fame” was in her vengeful nature against her husband’s transgressions -- not some great feat like his was. She was merely a goddess, a wife to a King and that was the only source of her power.
Her fingers traced small circles against his chest, fussing with the pale blue of his clothes.
The flickering of light and darkness in Hera's divine sanctum was an alarming thing. While given to rage, fear and sadness were not emotions he saw in her very often. Worse still, the very act of him seeing it could very well serve to erect a wall between them. While Zeus pushed away from Hera for his dalliances on earth, he never forgot her. In the face of every mortal he took, he saw hers, and the attack against her virtue that his every encounter was.
He pursued them because, while he loved her and in many ways, obsessed over her, his desires could not be contained. Covetous, jealous, and invariably weak to the bounty of women available in the mortal realm, he betrayed her with his every look, his every touch. But, in this moment, it was forgotten. She suffered, and he clothed her. She lamented, and he embraced her. The silence between them lasted for a time, with Hera's hair spilling over his arm as she considered her answer to him.
The darkness...
Zeus had avoided the pit of Cronus' stomach, spared by Rhea from such so that he might fulfill the prophecy he was born to.
Titan-Slayer.
While it wasn't Zeus' achievement alone, he certainly was responsible for it. Tearing his siblings out of Cronus' stomach was, after all, the feat that led towards the end of the titans' rule over Olympus. Back then, it'd been paramount for the younger gods to take over. The world was a twisted shamble, only to be rebuilt by Zeus and his pantheon.
While the titans no longer haunted Zeus' dreams or even his memory, it still affected Hera. There was pity in his expression, a swath to follow the sympathy for her plight. Treacherous fear gave way to vulnerability, and Zeus drew nearer. His lips found the woman's neck, a single, chaste kiss placed there before he placed another at the crown of her head. He held her to him as he considered the answer to her question,
"I don't remember the day itself. The accolades after, I do. The parties, the power of seizing hold of skies and forging Olympus from the clouds."
Arms snaked lower to wrap around Hera's waist as he considered her for a moment. The days of his great feats of strength and power were long past. While he still commanded such strength, at times he wondered just how ardently he was worshiped. In place of fear, he felt doubt all these years later. An unexpressed sentiment.
"It wasn't about fulfilling the prophecy. Overthrowing the titans pales in comparison to the satisfaction I found in tearing you, Hades and Poseidon from Cronus' stomach."
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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The flickering of light and darkness in Hera's divine sanctum was an alarming thing. While given to rage, fear and sadness were not emotions he saw in her very often. Worse still, the very act of him seeing it could very well serve to erect a wall between them. While Zeus pushed away from Hera for his dalliances on earth, he never forgot her. In the face of every mortal he took, he saw hers, and the attack against her virtue that his every encounter was.
He pursued them because, while he loved her and in many ways, obsessed over her, his desires could not be contained. Covetous, jealous, and invariably weak to the bounty of women available in the mortal realm, he betrayed her with his every look, his every touch. But, in this moment, it was forgotten. She suffered, and he clothed her. She lamented, and he embraced her. The silence between them lasted for a time, with Hera's hair spilling over his arm as she considered her answer to him.
The darkness...
Zeus had avoided the pit of Cronus' stomach, spared by Rhea from such so that he might fulfill the prophecy he was born to.
Titan-Slayer.
While it wasn't Zeus' achievement alone, he certainly was responsible for it. Tearing his siblings out of Cronus' stomach was, after all, the feat that led towards the end of the titans' rule over Olympus. Back then, it'd been paramount for the younger gods to take over. The world was a twisted shamble, only to be rebuilt by Zeus and his pantheon.
While the titans no longer haunted Zeus' dreams or even his memory, it still affected Hera. There was pity in his expression, a swath to follow the sympathy for her plight. Treacherous fear gave way to vulnerability, and Zeus drew nearer. His lips found the woman's neck, a single, chaste kiss placed there before he placed another at the crown of her head. He held her to him as he considered the answer to her question,
"I don't remember the day itself. The accolades after, I do. The parties, the power of seizing hold of skies and forging Olympus from the clouds."
Arms snaked lower to wrap around Hera's waist as he considered her for a moment. The days of his great feats of strength and power were long past. While he still commanded such strength, at times he wondered just how ardently he was worshiped. In place of fear, he felt doubt all these years later. An unexpressed sentiment.
"It wasn't about fulfilling the prophecy. Overthrowing the titans pales in comparison to the satisfaction I found in tearing you, Hades and Poseidon from Cronus' stomach."
The flickering of light and darkness in Hera's divine sanctum was an alarming thing. While given to rage, fear and sadness were not emotions he saw in her very often. Worse still, the very act of him seeing it could very well serve to erect a wall between them. While Zeus pushed away from Hera for his dalliances on earth, he never forgot her. In the face of every mortal he took, he saw hers, and the attack against her virtue that his every encounter was.
He pursued them because, while he loved her and in many ways, obsessed over her, his desires could not be contained. Covetous, jealous, and invariably weak to the bounty of women available in the mortal realm, he betrayed her with his every look, his every touch. But, in this moment, it was forgotten. She suffered, and he clothed her. She lamented, and he embraced her. The silence between them lasted for a time, with Hera's hair spilling over his arm as she considered her answer to him.
The darkness...
Zeus had avoided the pit of Cronus' stomach, spared by Rhea from such so that he might fulfill the prophecy he was born to.
Titan-Slayer.
While it wasn't Zeus' achievement alone, he certainly was responsible for it. Tearing his siblings out of Cronus' stomach was, after all, the feat that led towards the end of the titans' rule over Olympus. Back then, it'd been paramount for the younger gods to take over. The world was a twisted shamble, only to be rebuilt by Zeus and his pantheon.
While the titans no longer haunted Zeus' dreams or even his memory, it still affected Hera. There was pity in his expression, a swath to follow the sympathy for her plight. Treacherous fear gave way to vulnerability, and Zeus drew nearer. His lips found the woman's neck, a single, chaste kiss placed there before he placed another at the crown of her head. He held her to him as he considered the answer to her question,
"I don't remember the day itself. The accolades after, I do. The parties, the power of seizing hold of skies and forging Olympus from the clouds."
Arms snaked lower to wrap around Hera's waist as he considered her for a moment. The days of his great feats of strength and power were long past. While he still commanded such strength, at times he wondered just how ardently he was worshiped. In place of fear, he felt doubt all these years later. An unexpressed sentiment.
"It wasn't about fulfilling the prophecy. Overthrowing the titans pales in comparison to the satisfaction I found in tearing you, Hades and Poseidon from Cronus' stomach."
She leaned her head into him, taking comfort in his presence. He was the bane of her existence, the very thing that made her blood boil, but he was also a comfort to her. She could not say Zeus was a particularly romantic or gentle partner, most of his affections were behind a veil of malicious mockery. His lips pressed to her neck, then to the top of her head and she shifted her grip, fingers twisting into his clothes to keep him close to her. She wished for this, wished that she did not have to be at her lowest point to receive such affection and reassurance. Yet, all she could do was savor it and keep it close to her heart for the next time he would surely betray her.
She listened, quietly as he recounted what he could for her -- which surprisingly was not much. He was quite vague about it all, claiming to remember only the parts that had come after. Her hand drifted to find his, the pad of her thumb brushing across the top of his knuckles. His greatest satisfaction had been freeing them? She considered that, curious as to why he felt that way. She did not think she had ever heard him express such a sentiment.
The goddess of marriage tilted her head back, looking up into the face of her husband and studying it. Physically, he had not changed a day but she could not help but wonder where the god that she had watched that day had gone to. He had seemed good to her then, a mighty and worthy king. Now he had caused her heart so much pain that she could only see glimmers of the Olympian that she had seen that day. Her hand moved from his and reached to caresses his cheek, trailing carefully.
”You were beautiful that day.” She murmured softly. ”You brought light to my world, a debt I could never repay. You saved me.” She stretched, not having to go far to press a kiss against his mouth. Her lips were slow and warm, coaxing him into distraction with her. She would not ruin this moment with words about other women, about the countless years of heartache she had felt because of him since. ”I will always be grateful to you for ending that darkness.” She murmured against his lips.
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She leaned her head into him, taking comfort in his presence. He was the bane of her existence, the very thing that made her blood boil, but he was also a comfort to her. She could not say Zeus was a particularly romantic or gentle partner, most of his affections were behind a veil of malicious mockery. His lips pressed to her neck, then to the top of her head and she shifted her grip, fingers twisting into his clothes to keep him close to her. She wished for this, wished that she did not have to be at her lowest point to receive such affection and reassurance. Yet, all she could do was savor it and keep it close to her heart for the next time he would surely betray her.
She listened, quietly as he recounted what he could for her -- which surprisingly was not much. He was quite vague about it all, claiming to remember only the parts that had come after. Her hand drifted to find his, the pad of her thumb brushing across the top of his knuckles. His greatest satisfaction had been freeing them? She considered that, curious as to why he felt that way. She did not think she had ever heard him express such a sentiment.
The goddess of marriage tilted her head back, looking up into the face of her husband and studying it. Physically, he had not changed a day but she could not help but wonder where the god that she had watched that day had gone to. He had seemed good to her then, a mighty and worthy king. Now he had caused her heart so much pain that she could only see glimmers of the Olympian that she had seen that day. Her hand moved from his and reached to caresses his cheek, trailing carefully.
”You were beautiful that day.” She murmured softly. ”You brought light to my world, a debt I could never repay. You saved me.” She stretched, not having to go far to press a kiss against his mouth. Her lips were slow and warm, coaxing him into distraction with her. She would not ruin this moment with words about other women, about the countless years of heartache she had felt because of him since. ”I will always be grateful to you for ending that darkness.” She murmured against his lips.
She leaned her head into him, taking comfort in his presence. He was the bane of her existence, the very thing that made her blood boil, but he was also a comfort to her. She could not say Zeus was a particularly romantic or gentle partner, most of his affections were behind a veil of malicious mockery. His lips pressed to her neck, then to the top of her head and she shifted her grip, fingers twisting into his clothes to keep him close to her. She wished for this, wished that she did not have to be at her lowest point to receive such affection and reassurance. Yet, all she could do was savor it and keep it close to her heart for the next time he would surely betray her.
She listened, quietly as he recounted what he could for her -- which surprisingly was not much. He was quite vague about it all, claiming to remember only the parts that had come after. Her hand drifted to find his, the pad of her thumb brushing across the top of his knuckles. His greatest satisfaction had been freeing them? She considered that, curious as to why he felt that way. She did not think she had ever heard him express such a sentiment.
The goddess of marriage tilted her head back, looking up into the face of her husband and studying it. Physically, he had not changed a day but she could not help but wonder where the god that she had watched that day had gone to. He had seemed good to her then, a mighty and worthy king. Now he had caused her heart so much pain that she could only see glimmers of the Olympian that she had seen that day. Her hand moved from his and reached to caresses his cheek, trailing carefully.
”You were beautiful that day.” She murmured softly. ”You brought light to my world, a debt I could never repay. You saved me.” She stretched, not having to go far to press a kiss against his mouth. Her lips were slow and warm, coaxing him into distraction with her. She would not ruin this moment with words about other women, about the countless years of heartache she had felt because of him since. ”I will always be grateful to you for ending that darkness.” She murmured against his lips.
