Work Text:
147 dead.
The breaking point.
Jupiter was finally ready to do what he should have done nearly two decades ago.
Cut out the temptation at the roots.
This Must Never Be Permitted To Recur
”If you fall for her, and if you break the oath you swore fifty years ago, the Fates will not be pleased. You will come to wish you had struck her down here and now.”
Leaned forward with two empty bottles of wine in the passenger seat, an attention-seeking movie star obsessed with making lightning strike twice drove. His vision honed in on the plate.
TJGRACE
Two decades later, he’d realized Lady Wisdom was right.
His hands shook with the gravity of what he was about to do. He bit his lip.
The best time to plant a tree.
The actress’ face shone just as brilliantly now as it had the day they’d first met.
Minerva was right. One life does not weigh more than thousands. Favoritism has eroded my judgement.
Speedometer in the window nearly in the red. Road covered in spots of ice.
Plausible deniability.
A flick of the wrist. A wind gust. The front left tire lost contact with the ground.
Lady Wisdom spun a thread by his side, using an abacus absently. A moving of a bead from one column to another.
Subtract one, add a thousand.
“You have done well, Jupiter. I am proud of you. As a maiden goddess, I don’t understand the pain of a lost lover. The poets tell me it is like burning a library of memories. What I can understand, however, is the value of doing the hard thing for the greater good. For that, I commend you.” She said softly.
The vehicle spun out. Icy road. Drunk movie star. Practically an execution.
Fate had a sense of humor.
The vehicle folded around a tree like paper. A pine tree. On a hill.
“Mars tells me Wisdom is trampled in times of war. He does not seem to understand not interrupting your enemy when he errs. Yet today you prove why he is a mere General, and you are a King.”
He looked back at Minerva, who hadn’t looked up from her abacus.
“This Must Never Be Permitted To Recur.”
She smiled, but didn’t meet his eyes.
“So you said. Looking down at Messerschmitts and Spitfires, telling yourself this can never happen again. Here we are yet.”
He looked back at the crumpled mess of metal wrapped around that sacred pine. Lights flashed. Someone had called 9-1-1. An ambulance slowed to a stop.
“Then I will—I’ll…” He said, but words failed him.
“You already know what you must do. So be a king already, Jupiter, and do it.”
Lightning flashed in the sky. It did not save her as it had once saved another.
Paramedics looked at each other far down below.
“She looks familiar.”
“Beryl Grace. From the papers.”
“Guess she finally bit off more than she can chew.”
“Seventy on an icy road at four in the morning. I don’t even want to know her BAC.”
“You’re the trauma guy. What do I tell the family?”
“Uh…from the looks of it, she didn’t suffer one bit.”
“Dead?”
“The instant she hit the tree.”
The King of the Gods steadied himself. The gods had interacted with mortals. They had all broken their oaths, tempted by love and lust. If he was to resolve this…
“The gods must close themselves off from mortal affairs for the time being. To grieve, and to maintain tradition.”
Grip now iron.
Minerva met his eyes, impressed.
“My thoughts exactly.”