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Summary: Hope knows that she perhaps is not as capable of human emotion as her mother is, but she suspects that what she feels for the very unstable goddess that is Callisto is far more powerful and real than anything she's ever felt. Warning, might be seen as extreme OOC for Hope. Depending on how you view her.

My Callisto: Mortal feelings, apparently

I guess my feelings are proof that I'm a paradox. I've been told by many that I cannot feel love. That I'm an abomination. I'm sure you've heard much the same, my Callisto. When was the last time anyone said your name, other than to curse it?

When I first came into existence, it was agony. The pain when I first emerged from mother's womb was unimaginable. The ice that assaulted me felt like a billion daggers were piercing my soft flesh. The dark barn where I was born only served as a fitting, heartless nest for my first moments of existence, my shrieks tearing from my throat. Every single thing about that night was dead, cold and unfeeling, yet altogether feeling will stay with me forever. That's the thing no one tells you about gods, not only do they remember everything, but they can remember the very first day of their lives with perfect clarity.

I assure you, it's a curse, and I have no doubt that you agree, given you're views on the life that you were cruelly thrust into.

When I was old enough to summon you, bearing the body of an eight-year-old child, I could split the ground open and spring you forth, Callisto. But I could not count on my feelings. I was certain that I felt nothing, just as I did for every single mortal that found me told me after my own mother threw me to the river. Meeting you was what made me realize I was capable of more emotion than I had hoped. I soon learned that it was a burden. When I first learned of you, only a month after my birth and I had grown to have a body akin to a five-year-old's, and everyone that had found me abandoned me, terrified of my quick aging, I was of course, intrigued. Who wouldn't be, knowing of a bizarre entity like you, Callisto? Callisto, daughter of Xena's wrath, the one survivor of the fire started in Cirra, the Warrior Queen, the destroyer, one of the few mortals who ever gained immortality by tricking Hercules. The woman who became a god and took down the Amazon Valasca.

Who hadn't heard of you? You were as famous as Xena, Gabrielle and Hercules themselves. I knew that if there was anyone who could give me a fighting chance against Xena, it was you. When you shot up out of the ground and stood before me, looking down at me with such amusement and unfeeling interest, or rather, should I say, lack of interest, I knew that we were destined for a rather, how shall I put it, interesting path?

At first, you were just a pawn. I promise you; that was all I thought you were or would ever be to me. I often wish that it was only that simple. But it's not. I wish I were as emotionless as Xena said I was. I wish I was the monster she truly believed I was. Then I couldn't feel what I feel for you, my Callisto. Though I was capable of thoughts, plans and contemplations far beyond mortal concepts, far more than mortals could imagine, I was in the body of an eight-year old, and knew that my feelings, which I didn't quite understand at the time, wouldn't be welcomed. It wasn't just the physical age difference or that I was a different type of god from you, Callisto. Had I known what my feelings were at the time, I wouldn't have seen it that way, but I understand it now. I know that you would not have accepted whatever I felt. You were destroyed. Ruined. So broken and fractured that you couldn't feel anything. What was that that you had once said to mother while sitting at the fire, waiting for Valasca, when she was hunting mother? That you didn't feel anything? Bits and pieces, but nothing solid?

Are you surprised I know about that? My father, Dahak tells me much.

You would not have accepted my feelings. Even if I had understood my emotions at the time, you would not have accepted them. Maybe you wouldn't have understood them any more than I did, or maybe you would have mocked them, or perhaps even toyed with me. But you would not have accepted them. You couldn't have. You were just too broken, my love. Too incapable of accepting anyone's love. Even anyone's acceptance of you was an insult in your beautiful empty eyes.

I learned what it was you wanted when we discussed the death of Xena's only child, Solan. You wanted her to feel the same pain and emptiness you felt every waking moment of your never-ending life. I understood, and how could I deny you that? I might not have realized what my feelings were, but I realized that if you asked it, I would have conquered the world for you. The death of one mere mortal was simple enough. But when I got drained, momentarily, after I killed the boy's adopted father, the centaur, you were going to leave.

You turned and were about to walk out of the barn. I remember, lying there in the hay, back up against the hard, cold wooden mast, keeping the roof of the barn up, the heart that I once thought I didn't have raced in what I know now was fear. I was there again, in the other barn, with my mother pushing me out of her body. And I was terrified. I was afraid of being left alone again, like so many mortals had abandoned me over those months when they saw how fast I grew, true. But it was more than that. I…forgive me, Callisto. I know you're not capable of forgiveness, but I must ask it anyway. I wish I hadn't threatened you with my father's wrath if you decided to leave, but I was just so panicked that I'd lose you.

The one thought that ran through my mind when you were about to leave the barn had been, I won't let you leave me.

That, and only that. I shouldn't have threatened you. I'm sorry.

I was selfish. I still am. But I suppose there's much more clarity than before. I understand so much more now. I was ageless, even as I child, but I couldn't comprehend what I felt. That is not wisdom. Countless memories and centuries of knowledge granted to me by my unfeeling, cruel father without wisdom at the helm means nothing except a dark ocean with a doomed ship and its resident holding no idea whatsoever as to where they are going. Or likely to sink.

I was such a fool. But I was so relieved when you chose to stay, Callisto, even if the choice was made just by my threat. You sat down next to me, and started talking about how you were going to get Solan. I know we were talking about something, that to anyone else would have sounded horrifying, but at the time, it was the only way I knew to speak to you that would bring you joy of any kind. And I had been right. Just the whisper of hurting Xena, oblivion, deaths and misery made that glint appear in those beautiful orbs. How could I not talk about destruction, death, murder and chaos when it made you so happy?

After I killed Solan, I knew that I had brought you pleasure, of sorts. I wasn't sure the degree of it, but I knew you enjoyed it. But then I heard what you said at the cave to Xena. Solan's death didn't help you to move on with your life like you had hoped. You were as empty as before. I knew then that I couldn't finish off the children like we had originally planned. What was the point? It didn't make you happy, then why should I do it? I almost screamed out when I saw the cave collapse, but stopped myself. Of course. You were immortal. You were a god. What did a pile of rocks mean to you? You would get out soon, I knew.

I planned to get you out, but mother appeared by the cave doorway, staring at me and opening her arms to me. In the state I was in, reeling from seeing you, my love, crushed under an avalanche of rocks, I couldn't stop myself from running into mother's arms, crying. Maybe mother didn't know what reason I had for reacting like I did, but she, for the first time ever, was holding me, knowing what exactly I was, but holding me anyway and stroking my hair, staring down at me lovingly. We pulled apart and mother stroked my face with a gentle, warm right hand. I closed my eyes, relishing her affection. The affection Xena had been so focused on making sure I didn't have. The affection that mother had been forced to withhold in order to keep away from me so that Xena never got me.

And for a foolish, foolish moment, I almost dreamed of both you and mother being in my life. Even getting along one day, for my sake. What a fool…

It was then that mother asked if I was thirsty. It had been almost an hour since the last time I had drank, so yes, I suppose I was. I should have known what was about to happen. Mortals abhor what they don't understand, fear and can't control.

It makes me wonder how the gods have lasted with as many shrines as long as they have.

I took mother's waterskin and began drinking, telling myself that I'd dig you out of the pile later. I'd tell you that we needed to give up and that the two of us and mother would leave here, and find a little town where we could all live happily together until father's power decimated all that opposed him. We would be safe because I'd request for father to leave you and mother alone, and after father's work was done, the three of us would be safe and in control of the world, as we were always meant to be.

When I pulled the lip of the waterskin from my mouth and smiled up at mother, I should have known that it was too good to be true. I really should have. But when I felt my energy beginning to sap and my vision began to blurry, I knew I had made the wrong choice. I don't think anyone would have ever expected the look on my face when I turned to mother, vision now almost gone. I trusted mother. I thought she had accepted me. But she saw me just like everyone else saw me. As a monster. A beast that needed to be destroyed before I destroyed her. She feared and hated me, just like everyone else did for something I couldn't control.

In that moment, when my life was fading and the only thing I felt, when my vision was black and I descended to the ground was the hard, sharp rock stabbing into my back on impact, my thoughts, as if yearning for a safe haven in the horrid sea that was my mother's rejection, traveled to you. I would have loved to spend even just a few months with you. To see Athens with you, see Sparta, see Rome. Perhaps even go back to Cirra and lay flowers out for your beloved lost family. There are so many places in the world that I had been told about by my father in my dreams, but I had never actually seen or experienced for myself in my very short life. So many places that I wished to see with you.

I knew at that moment, with my life slipping away, one simple thing.

I love you, Callisto.