Chapter Text
Aphrodite was a fickle goddess.
That’s what the other gods would say, if you asked around.
A poisonous flower that draws you in for the nectar and leave you paralysed; they’d spit. They’ll say she cares not for your broken heart, she cares not for anything but herself; they’ll beg for anyone to listen to their desperate cries.
They are right. Aphrodite never cared much about anything, families especially; on account of her never having a family plus her lack of want for a family. Because family means children, she may be the goddess of fertility, but children always seemed like such a bother to her. Screeching, wailing, that writhing little thing that demand everything from you until there’s nothing left for you to give.
She never felt for children.
Except the one in front of her now. Little fledgling drenched in gold, cladded in silver, silent and still as her body shivers with the weight of her first gasps of life. Life that’s abandoning her in the same breath it held her.
Everyone watched but no one dared to step up, not even the combined flame of lovely Hestia and bloodied Prometheus could melt the tension that had them all frozen in a trace. All watching this pathetic newborn creature gasping for life to stay, grasping for anyone that would stay with her.
This fledgling. Something about her had Aphrodite’s legs move without her say. The girl was nothing, but skin and bones Aphrodite noticed when she reached her, just clumps of feathers that stuck to Aphrodite’s hand as she attempted to wipe hair away from the hatchling’s ichor slicked forehead.
Her essence flickered wildly and flare out like a protective shell; useful for defence, less so for if you wanted to keep your lifeblood intact. Besides there are fractures in the shield, essence will drain out the moment she’s not strong enough to keep it attached to her soul. Even then the rope that are binding the shield together is nothing but a few threads now; Aphrodite gives it a minute before the floodgates open.
The thing won’t make it. Not without intervention, but to bring back a goddess even a newborn requires a sacrifice; or a trade…
Aphrodite wouldn’t have done anything but the grief coursing through that girl’s veins broke something inside of Aphrodite. Grief eats away at you, judging the condition it’s almost fully snuffed out. The newborn needs something to replace the flame, needs something powerful, needs something old, something like a domain, one of an elder god’s.
Passion would more than bring the little one back, but that was the core of Aphrodite’s being. For a god to lose their core domain is to change beyond recognition; besides a domain that strong might consume the girl completely.
Maybe a secondary domain, for Aphrodite it’s lust.
…
Her tertiary domain is war.
War… passionate, powerful, it’s broad too, maybe broad enough for a young god to consume and make it their own.
They’re essence was already torn, so opening a connection wasn’t hard. But as Aphrodite forced a link open, a rupture of pressure floods Aphrodite’s senses, it forced the goddess down to her knees and drowns the air out her lungs. Whatever has fractured the little god’s core was now clawing at the seams of Aphrodite’s mind, trying to rip into ribbons of red.
“How— are you I- it’s-“Aphrodite rasped, blistering pain lashing at her mind.
Forget the minute, this child won’t last the next second.
Against her better judgement she reached for the child again, there’s no time to think, no time to decide. Aphrodite might not care for much but that doesn’t mean she’s heartless. She forced her way through the all-consuming grief and reaches the core of it all. An undomained essence of a newborn god, it resists Love’s presence trying to cast out the unknown that has invaded.
Unfortunately for the fledgling Aphrodite was a fully realised goddess, senior to even the eldest Olympians. She barged through any defences in her way and initiates the transfer.
Screams of souls long since shattered cackled across the two goddesses. Metal grinding, flesh tearing, voices of the lost scream for one need, death. Death. Death for their enemies. The fledgling convulses on the ground it’s soul resisting Aphrodite’s gift, a war starting inside the god; an eternal flame tearing through the their ichor filled veins, eating away at the seams of her shield, setting her ablaze.
Screams of the hundreds, thousands, millions and billions of souls lost in wars across decades, centuries, millenniums and all of eternity to come blazes through their being. Pain of the soldiers, pain of the generals, pain of the monarchs, pain of the families, of the siblings, pain of the children. The pain of a mother past down to her child. Pain that this child must make it’s own. No matter how much everything in the child seem to reject the very notion of War, the domain and their nature pull it in separate directions but it’s need for survival stitched them together clumsily.
Something deep inside the hatchling echoed inside Aphrodite’s skull, something fuzzy but somehow clearer than crystals.
That was her last wish. For her dear daughter to survive. To do anything to keep her alive even when her domains will try to rip her apart forevermore. She will survive.
She will live.
This eternal pain shall be the cement to the foundation of its being.
For a moment Aphrodite thought the warring flame was going to eat the child alive, did she underestimate the little god’s strength? Was the domain too strong? Has she doomed this child? Has she-
A low thrum reverberated through the marbled floor making the other gods lose their footing. The flames retreat into itself until there’s only an ember right in the middle of her back. Just a pinprick.
That pinprick shoots into the girl’s chest, embedding itself there.
The girl takes a lungful of air, and another, and another, and another. Finally, she opened her steel blue eyes and scanned the room.
“There you are darling. Welcome to-… Olympus.” Aphrodite shuffled closer
The fledgling screeches.
___________________________________________________________
Everything hurt.
Her arms hurt, her head pounded, her chest was burning.
Mama said to hit the wall until light reached her, mama said she’ll be watching her back. Blow after blow after blow after blow, her spear slashed the swollen flesh until her arms feel raw inside out though maybe that was the yellow sizzles that kept eating her every time she slashed the wall.
Usually, Mama makes them go away, but she was tired, so so tired. But when they get out of there everything is gonna to get better. Mama won’t be tired anymore, and- and she’ll be happy and she’ll show her little owl all the things she always told her about; the fireflies way up in the sky, the little soft things with snowy wings, the others. Gods, she called them. Mama said Athena was one of them, that when she gets out, she’ll be an important god, everyone will love her, everyone will revere her.
Athena doesn’t know how to feel about it. In here it was dark and damp and here was hurting mama, but this is the only thing she knew. What if the other place was worse, what if mama gets hurt by something outside. What if the outside hated them more than here did?
Mama always just chuckled at her whenever Athena brought the problem up, saying that they’ll adore her or how they’ll protect her from everything she’s worried about. She promised Athena will never be hurt ever again.
“Ok mama, but promise one thing?”
“Yes, little star?”
“Can you hold my hand when we get out?”
“Of course.”
...
..
.
They didn’t leave together.
Athena hit the wall until brightness leaked into the darkness and chased it away. It was warm, so warm, not as warm as mama’s hugs but it’s close enough. She turned back to get mama, but she was already beside her. She looked weird, some parts of her were see through and she looked more tired than before. Athena grabbed her hand and tried to pull her up, the light was high up but between the two of them they could get up there.
Mama smiled at her and held her hands over Athena’s eyes, she whispered something Athena didn’t understand. Something happened to Athena, she felt stronger, everything felt heavier, mama felt smaller, everything felt so warm.
“mam-”
“shhhh just close your eyes, you’ll need this to climb out.”
“But-“
“You know who you are. You’ll do great out there, you just gotta remember who you are and you’ll be a-okay.”
“Ok…”
“You’ll be okay.”
Mama held her hand. It felt so warm.
The warmth went as soon as it came.
Athena opened her eyes and Mama was gone. Athena tried to look for her but the yellow sparks came back. Athena ran but they were faster, Mama was gone, the sparks ate her and craved themselves into her skin. Mama was gone. Athena clawed her way up the flesh following where the brightness is. Mama was gone. Everything hurts and there’s no taking it away. Mama is gone. She reached the light with her charred and ragged body. She couldn’t focus. She stabbed the light so she could get out. Mama was gone. She promised they’d leave together but Mama was- was...
Mama was a liar.
Mama was a genius.
She knew she couldn’t leave; she knew if she told Athena she would’ve thrown that spear right back at her and refused, she would’ve curled up in her mama’s lap and disappeared with her. Even if mama begged her she wouldn’t have moved a single muscle until they were both gone and nothing was left. Why couldn’t mama let her go with? Why couldn’t she just disappear with her? Why?
There’s voices everywhere.
So loud.
It’s so bright
Why couldn’t she just disappear with her.
There’s something in front of her. It’s getting closer.
___________________________________________________________
Aphrodite gets a rude introduction from the little bird via spear being introduced to her abdomen.
“AK—”
The fledgling took advantage of the distraction to embed the spear deeper and scurried out the room, tripping on the way but never stopping. That snapped the others out of their trace, the ice shattering with everything step that kid took.
“HEY-“ Aphrodite struggled against the spear “wait hey! Come back!” Her hand slipped against the handle as she tried wrench the spear out her gut.
The child was fast, faster than you expect for a newborn, armour weighed it down and two sets of wings drag behind unused, but still a non-burden to her as she fled the scene.
Hestia came up to the wounded goddess and eased the spear out of Aphrodite. The blade of the spear felt as if it was made for dealing the maximum amount of pain possible, it burnt her from the inside like molten metal being poured directly into the wound. There were spikes at the sides (Aphrodite was sure those weren’t there before) so the spear would’ve tore into you the more you tug on it. It was made so you felt it.
“Oh dear, that was quite the entrance wasn’t it. I think we gave her quite a scare.” Hestia hummed, soothing the closed spear wound.
The lady of hearth looked back at her sister, the queen of gods Hera. She’s not looking at where the child ran but at her husband, who’s currently melding the two halves of his head together. Aphrodite couldn’t make out her expression, shocked, murderous, yet somehow blank at the same time.
“I’ll get the guards to find her, she couldn’t have gone far,” Aphrodite summoned the servant bell
“No,” Hestia grabbed Aphrodite’s arm, “You’ll just scare her even more. She can’t get off Olympus, we won’t lose her even if we tried. She’ll likely hide somewhere to calm down, Olympus is a cold place. somewhere warm, safe, and secluded ergo…” Hestia tilted her head at Aphrodite with her eyebrows up
“She’d have to hide in your temple.” Aphrodite completed.
“Poor thing, she must be starving. Did you feel her? Skin and bones she is. Looked as if she never took a bite in her life. We’ll wait the day, let the little one calm down; but until then we can plan what to do next right?” Hestia assured, the room’s atmosphere cooling form a rolling boil down to a slow simmer.
“Of course, sister. I’ll- come on Hera let’s go. Someone get Zeus to the healers wing.” Demeter broke her silence and guides Hera in the direction of her garden.
Hera was too far away to register her sister’s touch but still let herself be led elsewhere regardless. Prometheus dropped the axe he’s been holding for this entire exchange and hurled the lord king’s body over his shoulder heading for the healer’s wing.
“Well. Now that that’s settled, I need you to help me get our new addition to family out her hidy hole.” Hestia spun back to Aphrodite
“Me?”
“Well of course. I don’t know what you did but you connected to her essence no? She’ll be most familiar to you even if it’s only by presence.”
Aphrodite gently touched her healed spear wound
“Don’t worry, I’ll make sure we don’t get another accident.” Hestia smiled warmly and thought for a moment “could you get some fresh milk and honey for me? I have an idea for how we’ll lure our guest out.”
The lady of hearth doesn’t give Aphrodite time to respond before she disappeared in a burst of flames.
Milk and honey. Just milk and honey? No specifications? Not from the scarlet cows? The scaled goats? Clouded sheep? And the honey too, every one of those syrup have different flavours depending on the flowers those bees favour. There’s a thousand different combinations and Aphrodite didn’t even know the dish. Hestia’s usually very particular about her ingredients orders, she doesn’t think Aphrodite can pick ingredients up to her standards does she?
“Wait… at least give me a list.”
Fine. Fine, if Hestia trusted you to pick the right combination out of a thousand, you do it.
The gods may be all powerful immortal forces of nature but their children were still mortal like. Newborn senses are dulled and clumsy, they can do things no mortal could ever dream of but still. Newborn. Stronger scents would draw out stronger reactions, something like Jasmine honey from Demeter’s private garden. Though that might be too sweet for a newborn’s taste buds, it needs the right counter balance that can also complement the sweetness.
Scaled goats are a no-go, the flavour is far too strong for a mild meal, clouded sheep might be good but it’s not fatty enough to give the proper energy. That leaves scarlet cows, creamy and mild perfect for complimenting; Hestia’s voice echoed in her head.
The sun hangs high against the azure sky, right now sunlight is a pleasant buzz on Aphrodite’s skin. Helios seem to be in a good mood at the moment better take advantage of him before it passes.
—
“Helios?”
“Ah! Lady Aph-ro-dite. To what do I owe the pleasure of your audience?” The bright-eyed god leisured on his over sized velvet couch, nymphs doted around him feeding him grapes and refilling his cup with endless wine.
Talking with Helios is a difficult endeavour. This ever shifting mood makes every word a field of Greek fire, some days he’ll laugh off a slight against him like any old joke then he’ll turn around and smite you to the sun and back for a half baked compliment. Trying to barter with him is a whole different beast, for the sun cares not about what pace you need it to trot, you just have to keep up with him; just don’t get too close.
“I have a small request, it’s for a… special guest; Lady Hestia wanted to prepare a welcome meal.”
“I saw!-“ he tipped his glass towards Aphrodite- “made quite the impression she did, especially on you it seems,” the god of sight nodded to Aphrodite’s wound, “she was what? A few seconds old? And already drawing ichor, it’s impressive! I’m impressed. Genuinely.” The keeper of oaths snickered and waved his nymphs away so the immortals can talk properly. “To let yourself be struck down by a newborn that’s- it’s- hah, well your secret’s safe in my skies as always.”
A silence passed between them, yellow glanced at pink and pink glared back. Two fickle sensitive gods sizing each other up.
“Sorry, what did you want again?” He drawled,
He may be a titan but Aphrodite was made from the butchered loins of the skies itself.
“The milk of your scarlet cows. Hestia needs them.” She smiled.
“Rigghhtt. Of course, of course. Anything for the lady of hearth, consider it a gift from one fire to another-“ he tipped back the rest of his wine, “send her my regards will you?” The sun god smiled blindingly at her before summoning his nymphs back.
Aphrodite took that as her leave. The cows were lovely as usual when she got down to the flowery pasture, she gives them some sugar cubes after she acquired their milk.
“I’m surprised your owner let anyone near you at all,”she scratches one behind it’s ear
“Moo”
“Indeed. Though I must go now, be back to your grazing”
Aphrodite wishes she can be like them sometimes, they seem so peaceful. No worrying, being doted over, no responsibilities, just grazing. What a life.
Next ingredient is jasmine honey. Demeter’s jasmine flowers, sure she can get honey from the fields but she’s never seen Hestia use anything but Demeter’s yields. Hestia might be disappointed if she got normal honey.
Olympus seems restless as Aphrodite walked down the mountain. It’s a normal thing for Olympus to be restless after all what use do immortals have for rest? But now it’s all so suffocating, the water crashes, the hammer clashes, the nymphs rush away to fulfill their master’s endless orders. Every noise is a secret code to say they know, they heard, they saw, they spread and they know.
A distant smell of lavender curls around Aphrodite’s shoulders making them settle down.
No one knows about the birth of the new goddess. They couldn’t have known even if the hatchling ran though the whole of Olympus like a headless chicken , to assume that was one of Zeus’s spawn would be borderline treason. No one knows who she is, no one knows how she came to be. No one knows.
…it’s not that Aphrodite is scared of what would happen if the people of Olympus found out, it’s just- if Olympus found out Zeus had a child, the first child of his marriage with Hera; a child without Hera. If jumping to conclusions was a sport the residents of Olympus would be world champions, they’d start pointing fingers. If not with Hera when who? Not Demeter; not after Persephone and she wouldn’t betray Hera like that. Never like that, Hestia? … no. So that leaves Aphrodite as the last goddess on the council. It doesn’t matter that the actual explanation is that she burst out his head, that’s more absurd than Mr. Twice divorced having an affair with the most beautiful goddess to exist.
They wouldn’t blame their god king, they’re either too scared of him or they just refuse to blame him. But this situation needs a blame and who else better than the ever so vain Aphrodite. It’d be a catastrophe.
Demeter’s garden tall stands in the distance at the base of Olympus. A circle of coloured marbled column lined the sides of the greenhouse, willow green, lemon yellow, chilli red; carvings of our lives embedded at the tops of the columns. Statues of the three Olympian sisters are dotted around the premises, each one formed from their respective sacred trees, Hestia made from chaste wood, Hera from Lygos wood, and Demeter herself made from the richest of oaks.
Demeter’s likely busy, maybe she’s not even at the garden, but it’s that Hestia ordered the honey so she won’t mind Aphrodite sneaking in. Probably.
The garden is an array of wild colours, flowers sprout at every crease and crevice of the greenhouse , every colour compliments, every growth healthy as can be, from the tallest flowers to the most worthless of weeds. The aroma overwhelms your senses yet you can’t get enough, like scarfing down a feast long after your bursting at the seams.
The flower field Aphrodite needed should be at the other side or maybe to the left… she’ll figure it out on the way. Rooms, rooms, rooms, Demeter’s green house is deceptively big. From the outside it looks like any old mid-sized temple just with a ‘few’ floral touches; the inside however is a maze of pleasant scents and eye candy. It’s hard to find a specific smell out of a thousand, like needle in a- no it’s harder, it’s like trying to find sugar in a salt barrel.
Aphrodite was lost for a while, not running into any of Demeter’s servants too curiously, but she then heard voices in what she assumed to be Demeter’s private quarters. She was about to barge in hoping it was an assistant but- that tone. Aphrodite faltered in her steps and takes a few back
“The first child of our marriage Demeter! And— SHE’S NOT EVEN MINE.” a voice wailed, Hera.
“I know, sister, I know; please drink the team it’ll help you calm-“ another voice, Demeter, tried to sooth.
“I DON’T NEED TO CALM DOWN, I NEED-”
The sound of shattering clay cuts through the conversation
Aphrodite shrunk back into the halls, the voices fading into muffled nothings. It’s not her place to listen, especially this. Hera might try to rip everyone (that’s not Hestia or Demeter) apart if she knew they saw her like that.
People would say she’s over reacting if they knew but Aphrodite would disagree. The grief and anger seeping out of that room made Aphrodite nauseous, almost collapsed just by the overwhelming emotion of it all.
.
The flower field turned out to be at the very back of the greenhouse, Demeter had a tea flower section so finding the jasmine bees wasn’t as hard as finding the field itself. The aroma of the honey was was favourable, sweet with the slight aftertaste of floral, sweet and warm just enough take your mind off your worries even if it’s just till the bottom of the cup.
Here’s hoping Hestia’s idea works. She’s great with children, amazing really; but Aphrodite doesn’t think she’ll be good with children that skewer people three seconds after gaining consciousness.
Or maybe she will be. Hestia has many hidden talents, Aphrodite could never quite get a read on her like she does everyone else.
Aphrodite dragged herself back up Olympus, through all those unsuspecting dotting eyes that stalk her every step. It’s just the affect she has on people they can’t take their eyes off her even if they want to, Aphrodite revels in the attention but right now it’s not helpful.
The stares eventually drifted off her as she approached Hestia’s temple, nothing scandalous will ever happen in Hearth’s temple. Warmth washes over Aphrodite’s bones and the smell of bread makes her legs continue moving, despite her body’s complaints.
It’s always been like this ever since Hestia moved into the building, a smell of fresh baked goods perpetually wafting from the temple, even when Hestia wasn’t at her sanctuary the building just radiates this warmth that draws you in. It glows in the shadow of Zeus’s sanctum so you wouldn’t get lost on the way.
It’s not as big or flashy as the other temples but it stands out. Peach and orange, reds and browns, clay and stone, the same pattern inside and out with the exception of godling (and it is godlings not gods) carvings dotted around the house. tIt’s all so dull, not somewhere the goddess of beauty would usually associates with, but still something about this place keeps Aphrodite’s hair down. She can make an exception to be in this place, for Hestia.
Speaking of, Aphrodite hears the hearth’s song echoing through the halls, some lullaby she’s heard somewhere before.
“—Hues in our hair complement one another-” Hestia interrupts her song when she sensed Aphrodite presence nearby.
“Ah, Aphrodite. I see you have my ingredients.”
Hestia loomed over a boulder sized pan with two bowls beside her.
“Put them on the table behind me. I’ll take it from here”
Aphrodite put down the milk and honey down at the table behind he— there’s movement under the table. Fluffy and skittish, a plume feathers fled under the table the moment Aphrodite got too close. So it is here.
Hestia’s right behind Aphrodite when she turns back making Aphrodite jump, she ignores the goddess and grabs the milk jug, smiled at the little one under her table.
“Don’t make sudden movements. She might run away.” She pours half the milk into one of the bowls
“It might stab me” Hestia barks a laugh in response and stirs
“That was only a flesh wound love, you wouldn’t hold a grudge against her will you? She’s only a fledgling.”
She still stabbed Aphrodite.
Hestia gently poured the cream mixture into the second bowl, she grabbed a handful of sugar and sprinkled them in as she mixed the batter. She then grabbed another handful of other spices, shades of brown, some white, orange, cream. Cinnamon, vanilla and other sweet smelling spices Aphrodite can’t exactly point out.
Hestia stirs the mixture until it turns fluffy, creamy and golden. She snapped her finger and the bottom of the pan spontaneously combusted, the blue flames reaching to the stars before Hestia snapped again and the flames whimpered down into a shimmering orange. Hestia shook the jug and poured the rest of the milk into the pan, but instead of milk it was melted butter flowing out the jug.
She then tipped the batter into the pan, butter sizzles, batter browns, and a divine smell fills the room. Rich butter with hints of caramelising sugar chasing right after, it’s basic and so un-Olympic but Hestia’s pancakes has always been the council’s guilty pleasure.
Bump, shift, whimper.
“Let her come to us.” The goddess of cooking commented and flipped the pan without looking back
The little creature rooted around underneath the table, bumping into the legs and growling every so often. Aphrodite pops up her hand mirror to fix her hair after the long day of errands she had to do; and to keep an eye on what the little one is doing. It growled at the table legs for a few minutes before getting distracted by the smell of buttery goodness, and peaked from under the table sniffing the air until it’s eyes land on Hestia- on Hestia’s pan.
She sniffed the air and poked her head out the table to get a better look. It’s like trying to lure a stray out the box it’s been abandoned in. The ichor has flaked off it’s face, and it’s skin wraps against the skeleton like it’s two sizes too small. dark ebony curls, fawn tanned skin and blue- grey? Foggy grey with deep blue undertone, lapis.
The face of a ghost long past.
“…”
Aphrodite glanced at Hestia to catch her eye but lady hearth doesn’t acknowledge the ghost behind them.
Eventually she finished the pancakes, perfectly browned, soft and fluffy, about the size of an actual cake. Every time Hestia moved with the pancakes it jiggled like sheep’s wool on a windy day, Hestia settled the plate on the table the hatching was under, making it flee again, and she poured the jasmine honey all over until the pancakes are glistening with floral sweetness.
The nestling pokes its nose out and starts sniffing again. Hestia crouches down and puts the pancakes in front of the table; she backs up and leans against the counter opposite the table.
The little spear meister stared at the pancakes for a good few seconds before picking one up with its bare hands, doesn’t eat it. Just stares and salivates at the buttery sustenance burning it’s hands, it looks half dead but still doesn’t eat. The hatchling just looks at the food like it’s never heard of such a concept.
Groowwwlll
Aphrodite’s little attacker startles at the sound of her stomach and stares at the goddesses like it’s their fault. Still it doesn’t eat the pancakes.
“Aye, I see the problem” Hestia slowly reached for the pancakes and picked a crumble. The goddess of hearth and home makes a show of eating the crumb.
The chick observed Hestia’s movements and copied her actions. Pick a crumble, place into mouth and… nothing. It just lets the pancake rest on it’s tongue and nothing else, like a golem waiting for further instructions.
Hestia makes a show of shallowing to… teach the chick how to eat properly, Aphrodite guessed.
It struggled for a bit and managed to figure out how to swallow food, the fledgling stared at the stacks again before picking another crumble, and another, and another, and another until it picked up an entire stack of pancakes and sinks its teeth into the stack, ripping it apart like a famished wolf in winter desperately tearing into the first buck deep into the frozen season.
“Ravenous” Aphrodite remarked “it’s savage.”
“She’s a child.” Hestia summoned tea, watching the child rip her handiwork apart
“She’s-“
“I know.”
“This will change everything-“
“She’ll change everything, I know.”
“He’s not ready for this.”
“Then we’ll have to try instead.”
The two goddesses watch the new addition to the family finish her first ever meal.
None of them are ready for this.