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The realm is bathed in a luminescent rainbow light. The sky is clear, the animals frolick in the pastures of cloud and grass. Divine, Dieties, Nymphs and the like enjoying the sun-kissed paths and beaches. They chatter and dance in joyous frivolity.
And Aphrodite is being forced to attend another mandatory meeting.
She walks gracefully through the all-encompassing halls of Olympus. Truly the most exquisite scene for the Olympians. The halls are decorated with large banisters of the Gods, surrounded by fauna and flora. Ivy drips from high columns. The flowers and vines cascade down the walls, embellishing the pristine, parchment-white walls.
Olympus is the epitome of regal and royalty.
If only it weren't so empty.
The walls feel hollow. The home is without the warmth and love. It's as if it is a void that stretches on forever and ever. Its cold and chill wrapping and hiding away the small sparks of flame. It feels like the night, when the moon and stars dim and hide.
It fuels the sorrow in one's heart.
Now, as the Goddess of Love, it saddens her so that the home of the Gods is nothing more than empty, apathetic walls. That Olympus, majestic it may be, can never live up to the home of a loving family.
It burns in her, that void-like feeling. That sense of loss love. It grips her heart, blackened claws crushing it and squeezing it of its life. As if the fire of love and passion were being doused again and again and again.
It pools on the floors, that empty dissonance, the useless tension. It groups and infects the people, turning them cold and rotten.
It withers the flowers in her once beautiful garden.
Because it was something better. There was a time long, long ago, that they were actually happy. That they were really loved. Where they were able to put aside that tension, their Godly troubles and just be.
She hates this feeling.
She walks by a blooming warmth, and her attention is drawn outwards.
She stops in front of one of the tapestries. Hestia, in front of a hearth bearing a joyous smile. She knows that the Goddess feels it as well. The superficial facade that they Olympians put up.
The fake sense of family lingering in the air. The cold apathy intertwining with dishonest warmth.
Though cold, it burns, and she wishes (never prays) for it to stop.
Because she can no longer bear to chase love where it is nowhere. That feeling of duty and desire burns and she can not satisfy it.
She moves her gaze back to the blooms decorating the walls. A desperate attempt to stave of the oppressing chill that scorches and desecrates.
She continues her stroll, passing by numerous nymphs and dieties on her way to the main hall. All the while, she feeds off of the small attention they give. She clings to the love they share with others and pretend, pretend it is with her they share it to.
The hall stops and she is met with arched, wooden doors.
"Aphrodite!"
A voice, deep and gritty, cuts through the silence. She turns and finds Ares, a few ways away. He hurries, and Aphrodite moves to meet him there.
He kneels in front of her, taking her hand in his. Gently, he kisses the back of her palm. A rosy blush spreads on her face, betraying the calm demeanor she presents. "Ares. It is splendid to see you."
It is quite startling how easy it is to fall into your Godly facade. It shrouds her in a shear blanket, covered but never truly hiding.
She smiles, pulling him into a hug as she stands. She melts and clings to the love he gives. A fresh, lovely warmth in the middle of the cold, never-ending void.
A star, to which she feebly clings to.
They part, and she almost mourns the loss. Instead she grips to his magic, and she feels his reciprocate as well.
Ares opens the door, and is immediately pushed back by Apollo rushing into the room.
The God of Music sits beside Hephaestus and his own sister, hastily setting down his lyre on a nearby chair. He engages in the hush conversations of the two. Demeter and Hestia sit farther back, away from the gossiping group. When has Hephaestus started listening to mundane gossip?
"How rude!" She scoffs, picking herself up from the floor. She dusts herself off, complains falling from her lips.
That little-
Their magic is erratic, they appear to be panicking as well. Frantic gestures and they are looking about as ready to shout and start another war.
Is something wrong?
What are they even talking about?
She grabs Ares by the arm and storms next to the three.
What is so important that they have spent every other stupid meeting gossiping?!
(Would it hurt one of them?)
"What are you three even talking about–"
She stops before she finishes her sentence. The three look at her in wide eyes, knowing that she had heard the exact thing they were trying to be quiet about.
"Athena's been different right? It's b–"
Apollo looks like he is about to slam his head on the table.
Aphrodite pauses. Uncertain where that sentence would even go.
Artemis pipes up after the silence. "It's because she has been interacting with the mortal realm! Uhh, she's been carrying herself differently, yes?"
"Yes. Of course." Hephaestus continues. "She has been working hard."
Artemis sends a peircing glare to her twin, when she thinks that she was not looking. Her lover stares dumbfoundedly at the scene, which honestly? Was kind of cute–
But it was also quite understandable.
Apollo nods frantically. "Yes. Totally. I mean, we all know how much she values her work." It was said with such a knowing tone that Aphrodite feels compelled to look into this.
It seems her lover has the same idea.
"What is going on?!"
Ares, ever one for brute-force, shouts at his loudest. Predictably, it startles everyone in the room. The attention is all focused on them, and she takes a moment to bathe in it before listening to whatever her lover is saying again.
"–ave all been acting weird all week! And now this? What even is up with–"
He is cut off as the door flings open, revealing Athena. She scans the room, then immediately heads straight for Demeter. "Ah finally, you see I have a.. fr–"
What she says is cut off, her voice lowering into a whisper.
She almost looks.. excited for someone who so rarely shows emotions. That wasn't even the weirdest! After the incident she has been a little bit more open.
No, the weirdest part, is that her hair is braided. Athena, who has not once shown to particularly to care for looks (except for that golden apple, but she never did know why exactly she wanted it) has braided hair. Braided.
Exceptionally braided too.
She has small, fluffy, owl-like hair framing her face. Beyond that are six braids, neatly tied with small leaves and golden ornaments.
Beside her, Artemis gestures towards her with a squeezed out whisper of "See!".
Now, let it be known that graceful as the Goddes of Love is, she also pertains to the passion and brutality that love shares with war. As such, a reaction like this is particularly tame.
"What in Kronos's name is this?!"
Artemis jolts in surprise, her twin following suit in a mirrored way. Hephaestus looks disapprovingly, but he should really let her have this. Ares does not react, which is probably because he himself is having that same thought.
Only repeatedly.
And maybe a bit louder.
Actually no, scratch that. Why would they be so surprised about a few braids?
She takes one glance at Athena.
Disregard her earlier statement, yes, she should be surprised. Because as she focuses on the magic pooling in the room, Athena has been reacting weirdly and by weirdly, she means the way that a mortal's inherent magic would react.
And the only for that to happen is if..
She gasps out loud.
She has been hanging out with mortals!
How has she not noticed?
Don't they live in the same place?
She racks her brain for any memories of their last encounter. And every single interaction sheds a new light on the situation.
Athena has never been seen far from her own realms. She has been disappearing from Olympus numerous times in a single week. And every single time she came back, she looked lighter, glowing.
It was as if the cold, stone demeanor of hers eroded and revealed a lovely warmth.
When has Athena, who has never grown attached to anyone, been more authentic than all of them?
(Athena. She who had almost no time for mortal follies of love and joy, whatever it may be or come from. It was as if she finally learned to love.)
That begs the question, what sparked this change? What was different?
Or maybe.. Who sparked this change?
All of the information lead to one thing.
This could mean only one thing!
She has a mortal lover!
Oh, how exciting! Oh, she simply must know! Who could this be? Does she know who that is?
(More importantly, how could she bless them? Though she would never admit, one who manages to bring love to her, frankly distant older sister, is truly someone worthy of her blessing.)
She could already rule out a few of her champions. It could never be any of the dead ones, which leaves quite a few. But of every one still living, she was only ever close with Odysseus and he would prefer to be killed before cheating on his wife!
So it has to be someone else. Not a champion or favored, but a small, puny mortal. Insignificant but important to her, judging by how happier she seems.
Who knew Athena was such a romantic?
(There was also the thought that Athena could love, and the thought that maybe she could learn to love her too. Maybe then the scorching cold in her heart would finally cease, replaced with familial warmth.)
A newfound confidence builds in her. Maybe (–A fight, misunderstanding, disgust–) this time, they would actually be able to bond.
Just as she was about to walk to the other side of the room. Artemis grabs her, "What are you doing?"
She rolls her eyes, pulling her hand away.
"I am going to talk with Athena." She leans in to whisper conspiratorily, "I wish to know who her lover is.~". She winks, and Artemis stands stunned.
She quite understands why, Athena is a celibate Goddess. Having a lover would change that. But only love would change her this drastically! And she doesn't seem to be the type to be moved by friendship.
She turns around.
And Athena is gone in a flash of light.
What? No!
Aphrodite's hands fly out and at the sides. She frantically gestures to where Athena just was, and screams.
"She was right there!"
- - -
Athena felt as if something was about to happen. There was a chill of wrongness in the air. It unsettles her a bit.
But she must push through with the meeting.
There was a noise coming from inside, it piqued her interest for a few moments before she saw Demeter. She bounds towards where she sat, braids trailing behind her. She truly loved those braids. they spent an entire day after another one of her hm.. episodes just braiding them. She has not taken them off yet, she probably never would.
Maybe before her next visit, so that they may braid it again together.
"Ah finally, you see I have a.. friend—"
(As much as she wants to freely refer to her little owl, she would rather they not intefere in the Royal Family's life.)
"–He absolutely enjoys gardening, Do you have any plantlife that fit rocky beaches?"
She sits beside her. Demeter looks almost taken aback by this, though she could not see why. Athena had asked for fauna before, and Demeter was more than happy to oblige.
She mentally shrugs it off, instead choosing to listen to the Goddess of Agriculture's wisdom.
They were maybe three different plants in when alarm bells ring in her mind. A memory pushes to the forefront, overtaking her current surroundings. A young man, knife stabbed near his gut, bleeding on a market road. A young man, no older than 21, alone and targeted by a man in black robes.
In her terror, she stands up and fades into her owl form. She summons quick-thought, and leaves as fast as she can to the little wolf on the market floor.
Once she gets there, the place is in panic. Guards chase the man in black, and the people are hovering over Telemachus.
She hastily flies over and lands near the boy. Her wings spread out and wide, a threat. They back away and when she deems it far enough, she returns her attention to Telemachus.
The wound doesn't seem too big, but it is still a wound. And it is bleeding a lot. She sends a message through quick-thought to Odysseus.
She could hear a very frantic, "I'm on my way." Before she closes the link.
With that done, she covers the wound with her wings. Athena imbues some of her power in an effort to speed up her little wolf's healing factor. This proves to only be mindly succesful, what with not being a Goddess of Medicine, but it was effective enough.
"Thena..? Mhmm, it hurts.."
She cooes, a small attempt at comfort, and nuzzles closer. His eyes lazily flutter, blood pools from his side still and it's causing him nausea. He lets out a chuckle, interrupted by a grunt.
Just wait, little wolf. Help will arrive.
A few guards come back, or whatever else person they could be, bags and cloth in tow. They stop at the sight of her, apprenhension visible on their faces. One moves closer and she all but bites the man's hand.
A warning and a threat.
If they were guards, they were not in uniform. So either they would have been off-shift, or a pile of imposters.
Slowly, she inches back. Still maintaining eye contact with the 'guards'. They fidget with the items they bring. The older man moves forward and takes the bags.
He opens it and presents the items. All of which are used for medicine.
After a few moments of scrutiny, just long enough to guarantee these men's intentions, she nods in silent understanding.
She steps away, choosing to perch on a nearby market stall.
Never once did she take her eyes off them.
It was just but a mere moment after the guards had wrapped the boy up, did Odysseus arrive. Small Ithaca may be, it can take a while to get from one point to another. This is especially the case if one head from castle to market.
The castle sits on one of the cliffs along the far side of the small island. The market, on the other hand, is closer towards the opposite end of the island. A choice stemming from trade routes and closer docks.
Despite how small Ithaca is, such a trek could prove difficult and Odysseus had already been rushing.
Behind him is a crew of healers and a cart. The healers' hairs are frazzled, no doubt a product of her little owl's haste to get here.
He gets off his horse, and rushes straight to his son.
"Guards, what is his state?"
The older guard turns to him. His confusion clearly shown in the wrinkles of his face. "It is.. remarkable. He seems to have healed a small portion of the wound completely. As if it was never there at all..!"
Odysseus raises an eyebrow. "Really?" He turns around, surveying the surroundings. Up until he sees her on the market stall.
Then, his eyes soften and a laidback smile settles on his face.
He gestures to the carts. "Let's get my son home, shall we?"
She lands on the moving cart. The guard next to her nearly falls out of said cart in surprise.
It looks like Telemachus is merely sleeping, no doubt recovering from his wound. He did not seem to lose too much blood, atleast not enough to severely injure him. He must have fainted from exhaustion and pain a while ago.
"Psst."
"What?"
"Isn't that the same owl from awhile ago?" The guard beside her whispers to his friend. He eyes her warily from where they both seat. "Yeah.. That's the little thing that tried to bite me! Little brat." The other guard half-whispers.
Truly, this guard must be grateful that he is one of her little owl's men. Such an act could be considered disrespect.
"Shh... What if it can understand you?"
He smacks the other's hand away and scoffs. "It's an owl. It can't."
If she could roll her eyes in this form, she would have already.
"I think you guys should quiet down, hm?"
The two guards jump at Odysseus's sudden comment. "The owl is a she and I would love it if said owl would stay with me?"
She stares at the back of her little owl's head. After a while, she lets out a noise that can only be described as an owl-like sigh, and moves to perch on his shoulder.
("By the Gods, it could understand him!"
"She could understand him, idiots!"
The older guard, who was listening in on the conversation smacks the two's heads.)
As she lands, she sends the both of them into quick-thought.
Already, without a moment's delay, did her little owl speak. "Thank you, Goddess."
Her calm smile curves slightly downward. "No need for thanks, Odysseus."
"There is a need, you saved my son's life."
"It is only my duty-"
He slumps at her reply and so she decides not to continue the sentence. Instead she observes his state. He's shaking, no doubt bothered by the incident. He must have been very worried and for good reason.
His son was stabbed and he looked awfully close to visiting her uncle down below. Anyone would be shaken by such an event.
Titans know how devastated she would be if her own child was killed. Oh, how the world would shake if she were ever to part with her little owl. She would never let that happen again.
He must have been utterly terrified. Parting with their child was not a fate she would wish upon any of her enemies. Even more so now that she has learned what it was like to care for one like they were your own. When she looks up again, Odysseus is on the verge of tears.
She needs to do something about that.
"Child?"
He snaps to attention, wet eyes grow wide in surprise. She raises her arms out, inviting him into a hug. He holds himself close and averts his eyes.
"Athena.. I.."
He cautiously steps forward before rushing to her. Then, he leans in, wrapping his arms around her.
"I was so scared.. Terrified. I didn't want to lose him. Not again, never again. I barely had a year with him. I can't–"
He sobs. He wails and every sound cracks her heart. She returns the hug, drawing soft circles on his back in an effort to comfort him.
"I can't, I couldn't. If he were to die, I would lose myself. I can't bear to lose them when all I have ever wanted was to be with them. Please.. please."
He grips her tighter, repeating the same words again and again and again. She slowly guides him to the floor, where she makes him sit on the surface of her domain.
Odysseus keeps crying, pleading, shouting and everything. All to let out the worry and pain that he feels in his heart. She does all she can to help him.
She pats him on the back in an attempt to soothe. Whispers reassurances and comfort in to his ear. She holds him tight but gently, not wanting to crowd him when he was feeling overwhelmed.
They stay like that, for a long while.
Even when his sobs mellow out, when he us reduced to sniffles and stray tears, she holds him close. He hugs tighter, now mumbling various words of thanks.
"Thank you.. thank you, thank you.."
He takes a deep breath, an effort to compose himself. He lets go, but he wobbles slightly. A terrible attempt at not appearing exhausted.
Odysseus instead leans on her arms and she makes no move to get him to move. His eyes are already half-closed. He's tired, it was obvious.
"Odysseus, you must rest."
He looks at her through drooping eyes, "But what about Telemachus?"
She brings him down to his lap and pats his wavy, brown hair down. "He will be fine, he is merely recuperating. You may rest for a while, just a wink of sleep over a short span of time in the outside world."
His eyes flutter close with a half hearted mumble of "How does that even work..?".
- - -
Odysseus wakes up in the starry, bright expanse of Athena's domain.
Speaking of, the Goddess sits beside him. She has a book in her hands and is very invested in it.
He turns to stretch, still somehow feeling tired after the nap.
"That is quite normal."
He whips around to his Goddess. "Really?" He forgot she could read his mind.
"Indeed, here you were only resting your mind. Your body will have to rest some other time"
That makes sense.
"Especially, when you have been working yourself to the bone once again."
Any reply was shot out of the window, as he sputters. What? How did she know? That reply wasn't even warranted!
"What? Noo... Who told you that?" He disregards her statement with a wave, pointedly avoiding eye contact. Athena raises an eyebrow to this display.
"Why do you ask? Is it not you who has an altar to me in their own study?" She asks and Odysseus fiddles with the hem of his clothes.
"Anyways–" Athena's eyes narrow in scrutiny, which he is all too happy to avoid right now. "–Thank you, for the opportunity to rest. But I must continue tending to my son, yes?"
"Then I shall have to talk to you later."
The wind rushes out of his ear and he is back on the saddle of his horse.
It is only by late afternoon did they return back to the palace and had already finished settling his son to the medical ward of the palace.
("Hello Tel, doing well?"
"Yep, no need to worry. If anything, I could go and walk around now!"
"..."
"Come on..! When you got an arrow to the shoulder, its fine. But if I get stabbed I have to stay in here?!"
"..."
"Fine..")
He's asked the present guards for what happened, but none could give an exact answer. Ever since returning home, Telemachus could finally enjoy long walks in the kingdom unsupervised. Which proved to make him be especially difficult to track down.
He'd always be off helping a shepard or fisherman. Or maybe entertaining the young kids in the street.
Odysseus is so proud of him. He'll be a perfect king during peace times.
This still makes it difficult to exactly track his whereabouts. Telemachus is much too active to properly follow around.
He slumps in his chair.
He knows Athena has already tried to get him to relax and rest, but there is a threat to his family's life! Things could get really out of hand and well, he wouldn't want anything to happen to them.
"If you do not want anything to happen to them, you must be at your best."
He jolts at the unexpected voice. "Wha- Athena!" The Goddess –or rather, owl in question stares at him blankly.
She drops down from the ceiling to perch on his table.
"Did I not tell you to rest?"
He makes a motion to disagree, before faltering at the sight of her. Her pupils narrow into slits and if he weren't close to her, he would've thought that she was seconds away from tearing off his face.
"Well yes, but–"
"No need for talk." She pecks at his chlamys, pulling him forward and out of his chair. She then lead him to a seat on the opposite side of the room. Athena pushes him onto the seat and stays in his lap.
"Umm.. Athena–"
"Disobeying your Patron can be seen as an act of disrespect among Gods."
"Wha-? Wait, hang on. That's not fair!" She's pulling the disrespect card?
"If you were not so stubborn, I would not have to resort to this."
Odysseus stares dumbfoundedly at the Goddess. He brings his hands to face and groans.
He does not have time for this. The culprit is still out there somewhere and who knows what they are up to. What if they get in the castle while they sleep? What if he managed to grab Telemachus alone? There are so many threats but not. Enough. Time–
"Odysseus."
She eyes him sternly, no doubt reading what was on his mind.
"I know! I know.. I just- I'm scared 'Thena."
He admits shakily. His hands fall to his side and the fight leaves him. "I already told you, yes? I can't bear to see them gone. Even if I want to sleep.."
His eyes well up with tears.
"I can't. I'm scared."
Athena turns to face him. Despite her form, he could almost imagine the way her eyes would soften.
She nuzzles closer, practically laying on his chest and he ruffles her feathers in an involuntary motion. Once, this would have been met with a peck to his hand. Now, it was a source of calm for both of them.
A small reminder that they'll stay
"No need to be scared, Odysseus. I will personally make sure no harm comes to you or your family. All of you would be safe under my care."
He could manage a small smile with that. His nerves calming somewhat. "That being said, would you help with the investigation?"
He could practically feel her rolling her eyes.
"That goes without saying, yes."
It brought such relief to him to hear those words.
"Thank you.. Athena"
The last thing he remembers before being claimed by Hypnos is a small reply by his.. the thought evades him as sleep grows nearer.
Nevertheless, the voice was loud and clear.
"Rest, little owl. I love you."