Pain
by Hikako
Hera remembers, most of all, the pains of his birth on the slopes of Mt. Olympus.
She had only been an instant old before her body was devoured by her father, Cronus, and she existed in a place with her siblings, completely unknowing of the world that lay beyond their limited comprehension. She was the youngest, the last child before her brother and husband: Zeus, and the oldest as well, for she was spit up first from her father's stomach. The first thing in her life she beheld was Zeus, Usurper of Cronus the Usurper of Uranus, and in that moment Hera believed she was ruined for any man.
He was a god amongst gods, how could her elder brothers Poseidon and Hades not fall short of their liberator. The feelings were fleeting, but she knew she would never again hold those feelings for another and so swore to stay a virgin. Sometimes she smiles when she watches Athena or Artemis live the lifes she might have had herself. How then, many would ask if they knew, could she rebut his advances when he first approached her? In Hera's mind the Zeus she beheld at her second birth was perfect, and she knew marriage to the actual Zeus would cause that illusion to fracture and crumble. Crumble it did, into a thousand pieces as her maidenhood was ripped from her by her 'husband.' Shatter into sand it did, as Zeus turned from her bed to Leto's and Io's.
Soon, Hera hardly recognized the husband-Zeus as anything but the one thing standing between her and happiness, the true-Zeus in her mind. Desperate for what should, by rights, have been hers, she ties Io to a tree and sets Argos to watch her, prevents Leto from giving birth all across the world. Finally the last straw comes when Gaea prophesies that any son born to Metis by Zeus would overthrow him and he swallows the goddess, no different than Cronus.
The rage that Hera felt was unmatched, who was Metis that HER son would overthrow Zeus! Was Hera not Queen of Heaven? Was she not his true wife, set above all others before her, second in authority only to Zeus himself? What was Metis but a minor goddess not worthy of the title, barely set higher than a NYMPH! Hera was the Divine Female Incarnate, first among goddesses and more powerful than many gods! If anyone was going to bear a son to overthrow the King of the Gods, by Uranus it was going to be Hera.
Who better to instruct Hera in the ways of child-bearing than the fertile Earth-mother herself? Gaea told Hera everything she needed to know about pregnancy and birthing, how to manipulate it to produce powerful children or beautiful children, and the consequences of both. At last, Gaea gave Hera exactly what she wanted, the secret to conception without a male god, mortal, or anything.
In the darkest of nights, Hera slipped from her marriage bed and hid herself deep in a cave on Olympus. She performed the deed and conceived her child, knowing what kind of child she wanted. She wanted a child that surpassed Zeus, one that mortals and gods alike would seek for aide like a proper king should be, and one that she could be proud of above all the other mistakes of her life. Before she blinked she was giving birth and an eternity of anguish echoed across her consciousness. Mortal women did this more than once? She didn't believe it, but she soldiered on until she heard it, that powerful cry of her child as he announced his presence to all the world.
Hera would remember, always and for eternity, the pains of his birth in that cave on Mt. Olympus.
At first shock came. He was ugly! By mortals standards he might've been very beautiful, but comparison to the other deities revealed him to be ugly, homely, common, and definitely not the son of a queen, definitely not a Queen of Gods at that. Hera, in her disgust, sought to rid herself of it, refusing to think of the child as her son, and toss it down to earth where it would hopefull be lost forever. Swaddling it in cloth, Hera bolted from the cave like a skittish deer and ran to the edge of the heavens. High above her head the bundle went, her arms tensed as she prepared to throw it, and a gurgle issued forth from the bundle. Hera stopped.
A gurgle? Didn't the child know what its fate was to be? Surely she didn't give birth to a stupid and ugly god, did she? Hera lowered the bundle, pulled back the cloth and stared, really stared, into the face of her son. The young god's eyes were open, quickly moving here and there, until he locked with Hera's. A peal of laughter issued from him as he found Mommy, short and bark-like but innocent and loving. Hera found herself clasping the child to her bosom and cooing softly like she did to frightened or injured birds. How could a mother throw such a baby away?
The Queen of the Gods practically floated on a cloud back to her bedroom, where she lay her little son down and coddled him. The baby deity was curious, after having memorized Mommy's face he moved on to her fingers; moving his hands across her skin, feeling the bones move, the muscles contract and relax to create movement. P He had just figured out her hand and was moving on to her wrist when Helios' chariot crested the Eastern Gates and the first rays of sunlight spilled forth across the world. Born in a cave, and having spent his life in relative darkness, the surprised child gave out a cry of fear, one that echoed across Mt. Olympus. Soon the Queen and her Prince's paradise was broken as Zeus burst into the room, undisguised pride adorning his brow.
"I heard his first cries from across the skies," Zeus said, as an enormous smile plastered itself across his face and he moved towards the bed. "And I knew he was my son!" Before Hera could stop him the large god lifted the bundle high above his head and beheld the little god for the first time. Hera watched as realization dawned on Zeus, the smile faded, and all happiness seemed to drain from his face as Hera's baby looked back. "My son is ugly"
In an instant Hera had pulled her son from her husband's arms and was cradling him to her chest, unknowingly in the exact manner she had done to Zeus when he was in the shape of a cuckoo. Zeus saw this and couldn't help the twinge of jealousy he felt, knowing this child was already more important to his wife than her husband. "He's not ugly!" Hera shouted loudly in retaliation.
The little god, still new to the world and quite unused to quickly changing surroundings, became fussy and cranky. Hera held him close, looking like a lioness ready to pounce on anything that could harm her offspring. "He's not ugly," she repeated, more calm but with the same steely tone, "he's just not beautiful"
Zeus stood speechless as he watched his wife cradled and care for something he wouldn't have picked off the ground. Her fingers gently caressed his soft face and her arms supported and protected the godling. "And he's not your son," she spat out quietly, this time poison dripping from her every word, "he's mine, all mine." She proclaimed harshly before her tone changed and she turned her attention back to her precious boy.
Unfortunately, for Zeus, many other gods and goddesses had heard the peals of a child echo down the halls of the palace from the royal bedchamber. They gathered at the door, haphazardly and partially shut, and strained for any sight of the baby god. Hera primly sat herself upon the pillows of the bed and beckoned the gods forward in a procession. First to see him was his uncles, Hades and Poseidon.
"Very nice, brother." Poseidon remarked sarcastically as he first saw the baby, but soon he turned to remarks of genuine praise to Hera as he made faces at his new nephew. "Hi there, little one, I'm Uncle Po-po and this is Uncle Ha-ha"
"OH!" Poseidon cried as the godling clasped his finger in a firm one-handed grip, "Quite a strong grip, boy!" Pride burst from every seam in Poseidon's face, but soon he realized he couldn't remove his finger from his nephew's grip. Tugging slightly, the little god tugged back refusing to relinguish his toy. Poseidon's face suddenly became worried before it began to pale and sweat poured down his brow, it was then that Hera recognized the sounds of bones breaking.
Finally Poseidon was able to pull his finger away, much to his own chagrin. "Quite powerful, too." he said, trying to cover his embarassment as Hades tried to hold down his laughter. After the elder gods visited, blessing their little nephew, the other lesser gods came and offered blessings and praise to mother and son. While the gods were kind enough to hide their surprise at the child's appearance, the goddesses were all but rude. After Demeter was only able to half-choke down her giggles, Hera pulled away and ordered the gods to leave. "Who needs their approval anyway." Hera huffed to herself, he may have been an ugly son but he was her ugly son.
As the last of the gods filed out and the door was securely closed, Zeus finally spoke again. "What do you plan on naming your son, my wife?" He asked, bitterness echoing off the walls of the room. Hera ignored him and set about fussing over the little god. "I think," she declared after a few minutes, "that Hephaestus suits him nicely"
What passed were some of the happiest times for mother and son. They delighted in each other's company, especially when Hephaestus began creating things. The first thing he did was to bend a golden utensil into an elaborately woven bracelet for his mother. Soon Hera realized she had her wish, her son did surpass Zeus, since it was he who forged the thunderbolts deep in his subterranean workshop, in the very cave he was born in. Gods came to Hephaestus for aide, magical weapons like Poseidon's trident or a new chariot for Helios. Above all, Hera shone with pride whenever she saw one of those shallow goddesses that had laughed at her son when he was born wear one of his beautiful works of art. All throughout Olympus, the SON OF HERA was praised on a daily basis.
As things got worse between Zeus and Hera in the following years, and Hera became more prone to jealous rages and wrathful fits, it was only Hephaestus who dared to come near and soothe his angry mother. This, however, led to a terrible mistake on his part when Zeus and Hera argued one day and Hephaestus came between them. At first he sought to calm his parents, but when he accidentally took Hera's side over Zeus he found himself cast out of heaven.
Zeus, in a rage born of jealousy and irritation, bore up Hephaestus, just like his mother had down at his birth, and cast him far out into the world. For three days Hephaestus fell from Heaven, before landing on Lemnos; the force of his fall caused the land to turn inside out and rip into the foundations of the island, dooming it forever to tidal waves and earthquakes.
Then Zeus turned on his wife, who was almost inconsolable at the loss of HER son, and he grasped her arms. "Now," he all but snarled at her, "You will bear a son, MY son, and unlike your homely little brat he will be beautiful." As Hera lay there being violated once again by her husband she remembered the lessons of Gaea. A powerful god with be flawed one way, but a beautiful god with be weak. So, the Queen of the Gods concentrated and conceived for Zeus his beautiful son, but one that his mother wouldn't, couldn't, be proud of.
Ares' birth was easy, almost instantaneous, as his mother expelled him from her body. Giving him over to nymphs to raise, Hera never so much as looked at the boy, until she presented him to Zeus in front of the whole of Olympus. Zeus proudly held up Ares, his blue eyes, blonde hair, and pale complexion so different than her Hephaestus', but once again Zeus' face fell. HIS son was weak, an immortal deity with powers beyond a mortal man yes, but very little more. So weak was Ares that in later years he could easily be driven off of the battlefield by the very soldiers who worshipped him. A god driven off by mortals! This was Zeus' son.
Hera drove the blade deeper and deeper at every opportunity. When Ares failed failed to destroy Orion, instead giving him immortality, or when he was locked in a bronze urn by Otus and Epialties for a lunar year. Her snide remarks about the power of the Son of Zeus carried to every corner of the Olympian hall. When Ares fathered the many-toothed serpent killed by Cadmus, or the monstrous Cycnus, Hera remarked, "How like his father he is"
But, while Hera revelled in Zeus' discomfort and embarassment, always she mourned for her precious son. Hephaestus had survived his fall, he was a god, but lamed terribly, again for a god. While mortals would've seen it only as a limp or favoring of one side, for a god it was a horrible debilitation. Deep into the earth, just like the cave where he was born, Hephaestus lived and used the fires under Gaea herself to forge weapons. Great, terrible weapons, of such powerful and awesomeness that no mere mortal could stand against them, he even forged chains strong enough to imprison a god.
After many years, Zeus began increasingly short-tempered, always complaining of a pounding like a hammer. At first Hera thought Zeus' conscience might've been getting to him, but the physical pain was too great to be simple guilt. Finally, Zeus couldn't take it anymore and he called for Hephaestus, and Hera's heart soared thinking he was relenting, but her hopes were dashed when Zeus gave instructions for him to be a hammer and chisel. How like Zeus to use people and throw them away and then use them again.
What followed was the strangest birth of Olympus, Athena goddess of wisdom and warfare, leapt fully-grown and armored from her father's head. Here, finally, was a beautiful deity with power, and a child Zeus could be proud of. With a flick of his wrist he sent Hephaestus away, ignoring the pained looks Hephaestus and his mother exchanged. Both knew that the happy times were gone forever, Zeus would never relent now that he had his perfect child.
Hera remembered the pain of Hephaestus' birth on the slopes of Mt. Olympus, but she also remembers the day he was forever seperated from her.