It's dark here. And, while inside the Titan Lord himself, it's also cold here.
The little girl, who was nothing but a mere babe when her father, in fear of what she might grow to be, swallowed her, is curled up, wishing that there was something warm, and bright.
Only one thing echoes in her head, the sound of her mother's voice, weakened from giving birth, giving her a name in a slight whisper.
Hestia.
She repeats it over and over, the mantra that keeps her hopeful and warm, so she won't ever forget it, ever lose her identity and lose herself.
Hestia.
~/H-E-S-T-I-A\~
It seems like an eternity – but really, probably a year or so – when she is joined by a sibling. He's an odd one, who grows so fast and likes to appear old enough to be the elder one. He's so solemn and serious, but she sees the spark in the depth of his dark eyes, the twitch of his lips that means he finds it amusing when she spins yarns of hope and happiness.
She remembers to always call him by name in the most affectionate tone she can muster up, always the warm and bright place for him so he'll never know what it's like, to be so in the dark and so alone.
Hades, she calls.
Yes?
I love you.
There's always a slight pause, because he's so reluctant to show positive emotion. Perhaps it's a boy thing. Me, too.
She's always smiling at that.
~/H-E-S-T-I-A\~
Pretty Demeter with flaxen hair pops in to join them, and the dark confines of their prison are brightened by her busy, lively nature. She'd be a wonderful mother, Hestia thinks.
Hades doesn't seem to like Demeter, and secretly confines to her that he misses those times when there were only two of them.
She scolds him, but she can't stop smiling, and he doesn't take it seriously.
~/H-E-S-T-I-A\~
Poseidon comes, and that's when it gets tense. Both boys – for even when they change their appearance to men in the prime of their youths, they are still nothing but boys – are quite competitive, and Hestia watches from the sides with Demeter as the two brothers engage in many fights to see who is stronger.
While Demeter goes after the raging Poseidon at the end of the fight, she finds the sulking Hades, and sits with him silently, holding his hand.
His grip is hard, on the borderline of pain, but she never leaves, never let goes until he releases his iron grip.
~/H-E-S-T-I-A\~
One day, Demeter volunteers to go to Hades. Hestia's surprised, but she complies, and follows the sound of snarls and curses coming from Poseidon. Her brother is quite inventive when he wants to vent his anger through words.
She quietly listens, nodding and humming at the right times, and it surprises her to see that the tempestuous Poseidon's wrath is so easily quenched.
By pure force of habit, she reaches out and gives his large, muscled hand a soft squeeze of comfort, warmth, and something she hopes to be affection.
He doesn't squeeze back, but he smiles slightly.
She goes back and watches from afar as Demeter and Hades argue. The soothing session has turned into a full-out shouting match.
In the end, she hugs the teary Demeter and runs after Hades to hold his hand, and tries to not wince when his grip is deathly hard.
~/H-E-S-T-I-A\~
Beautiful Hera stumbles in, and Hestia holds her tightly to her chest. Welcome, baby. It's not the best place, nor the best home, but we promise to love and care for you.
The next day, Hera is a beautiful maiden with ebony hair, who follows her older sisters and seems to single-handedly fill the void more than they ever managed together. The three are always together, except those times when they break apart their brawling brothers, always running their fingers through the tresses of each other's soft, silky hair, talking about everything and nothing, discussing their dreams, and being there for each others.
When the three sisters sing, even their fierce brothers stop their fights to listen. The clear, high voiced Hera, Demeter with the deep and resounding voice, and Hestia, who is the balance, the middle ground between the two.
True sisters.
~/H-E-S-T-I-A\~
A bundle falls at their feet, but it does not move, does not stir, does not give a cry.
Hestia is scared. Is it possible that the babe is dead?
A comforting hand on her shoulder – Hades – a smile so warm and encouraging – Demeter – a wink that boosts her confidence – Poseidon – and words of belief – Hera.
The eldest among them all makes her way to the bundle and moves aside the cloth, and stares.
She bursts out laughing.
Worried for her sanity, the others rush forward, and realize the contents of this bundle. They, too, let out hearty laughs, for what they mistook for a still babe is nothing more than a rock.
~/H-E-S-T-I-A\~
Hera comes to her, so long after the rock dropped in on them, and whispers a secret. The youngest had had a dream, where a man, such a lovely man, was plotting to get them out.
Hestia thinks it's a nice dream. Hera is in a daze, and she wonders if her little sister is in love.
Perhaps not so little.
~/H-E-S-T-I-A\~
Their prison is shaking. What is this?
Stumbling and tripping, Hestia tries to make her way to the others, but can only watch, stuck in the folds of her father's insides, as one by one, her loved ones leave her side, into the unknown. Hera, shrieking, is thrown out and up. Poseidon roars and smashes with his fists, but he, too, follows. Demeter screams, eyes wide in fear, before she is gone.
Hades does not make a sound, does not vocally protest. Instead, he is trying to reach her, like she is to him.
He's tossed up, that force pulling him out of their prison, and she's alone.
Thankfully, before that terrible lonely feeling can come back, she is gorged up, and thrown onto hard ground, where there is light, there is warmth, there is scent, there is sound, and there is life.
A man, a beautiful man, stands in front of her. So different from the rest of them, but there's the similarities as well.
"Greetings, sister," he helps her up. "I am your brother. My name is Zeus."
"Hestia," the sound of her name is pronounced clearly, no longer quite suppressed by her father's stomach.
And speaking of her father…
She turns to see their sire flee, holding his abdomen and running away hunched over.
"We can't get him now," their youngest sibling tells them. "But we must leave, or our uncles will come running to his aid."
The rest is a blur, but somehow, they learn to shift their forms and change into the body of a bird, and they are soaring through the air, fleeing to regroup.
~/H-E-S-T-I-A\~
They fight. Sometimes they win, sometimes they lose, but both sides are immortal. They have allies. So do their enemies.
Zeus goes to Tartarus to free the imprisoned Cyclops and the Hekatonkheires, and they repay the favor, with gifts of weapons and strength.
Hestia almost longs for the peace and quiet of her father's prison amongst the loud chaos of the war.
~/H-E-S-T-I-A\~
After yet another earthshaking battle – it got almost routine, and she's no longer too shocked now at the magnitude – Hestia washes her face in a clear stream, wiping the golden ichor and grime of battle off.
The water's ripples settle, and in the mirror-like surface, she sees her face for the first time. Red hair, green eyes, and a flawless complexion.
She is beautiful.
An invisible hand behind her smoothes rogue strands for her, and she smiles.
"Thank you," she says aloud, and while there's no response, she knows he heard it.
~/H-E-S-T-I-A\~
Zeus, the strongest of them all, faces their father alone. The Titans, the gods, everyone stands back to watch.
Eventually, the son overpowers the father, and holds his sickle in his hands.
Hestia cannot make herself watch. Hades holds her in his arms, and lets her bury her face into his chest as he hums lifelessly to a lullaby she used to sing to him.
It makes it easier to bear.
~/H-E-S-T-I-A\~
When the lots are cast and the domains assigned, Hestia protests the loudest at the unfairness of Hades being cast from the Olympian council.
He claims he doesn't mind, but she knows it vexes him to no end.
Like old times, she holds his hand until he feels better, but this time, it's also for herself.
~/H-E-S-T-I-A\~
Zeus's children prove to be powerful, great additions to the Olympians. The wise Athena, the hard-working Hephaestus, the sincere Artemis, the strong Ares, the clever Hermes…
And, of course, the charming Apollo. From his first time meeting her, he seemed to enjoy being around her, listening to her stories and tales on life before his birth.
Over and over again, she tells him that she knew almost nothing except her prison.
He tells her that he listens for her voice, and Hestia smiles back faintly.
~/H-E-S-T-I-A\~
Poseidon seems more interested in spending time with her, although perhaps it's to complain about their younger brother. On how he claimed the throne after their father's downfall, how he's the biggest hypocrite of all, how he's always cheating on Hera. Hera, lovely, delicate Hera that hardened into a bitter, jealous queen after their marriage. She is with her dream man, but Hestia wishes that her sister was happier.
~/H-E-S-T-I-A\~
On one Olympian meeting, when Hera demands to know why others won't get married, Apollo steps up.
He asks for Hestia's hand in marriage.
While she stares in surprise at her nephew, Poseidon snaps, and storms over, also asking for her hand.
They are both ready to go to war over her. Her, and their pride. Choosing one will force the other to begin a war that will end this time of peace, end her quiet warmth, light, and joy.
She looks for Hades, but he is not there, not next to her.
She's on her own.
~/H-E-S-T-I-A\~
Her choice is forced; she will remain a virgin for the rest of her eternal life. She even changes her appearance, her green eyes now fire, and she is plainer, more humble even in dress.
Both gods are disappointed. But at least they know that neither got the lovely goddess, and soon Apollo is just as much as a womanizer as his father, and Poseidon is tied in matrimony with Amphitrite.
Athena and Artemis smile at her.
She forces a smile back.
~/H-E-S-T-I-A\~
Hades rushes to her, and he smells of death and the earth. He grabs her by her shoulders with hands that are now ice-cold, and demands to know why.
She looks away, and soon, after so much begging and pleading, he leaves.
Hestia would have sworn she saw a tear in his eyes.
She knows that there are plenty in hers, and it runs down, soaking her face.
~/H-E-S-T-I-A\~
Zeus and Demeter conceive a child, the stunning Persephone. Aphrodite and her archer son interfere for their amusement, and Hestia watches as her last brother gets married.
This saddens her more than it should.
~/H-E-S-T-I-A\~
The Lord of the Skies brings his talented wine-making son up to Olympus so that he may be a god, for all he has done.
But there are no seats left in the Council, and it appears as if her volatile relatives would fight over this.
She's so tired.
The others fall to silence as she stands, and pulls the young lad by his hands to her former seat. "There," she tells him, gently pushing him down as she abdicates her throne. "I can sit by the hearth. That is my seat."
There's still some discord about the uneven number of genders, but life continues on, and she watches from her hearth, fading into the back of memory.
~/H-E-S-T-I-A\~
The young boy is clearly her nephew, clearly the son of Hades.
That affection, and this young one's energy, lets her answer all of this enthusiastic one's questions without complaint.
She notices that from then on, all of his sacrifices include prayers to her.
And when her brother is angry at him failing, she speaks up for him quietly.
He's still grumbling, but he learns to be proud of his son.
~/H-E-S-T-I-A\~
So cold. Her father is back, and it's just so hard to keep the hearth going.
The son of Poseidon and the other demigods come, and they bow respectfully when they learn who she is.
She shows him the truth.
Later, she is given Elphis, and hints to the mortal that perhaps, her destiny is not with the boy, but with something else.
Perhaps both know now that to yield is painful, but necessary.
~/H-E-S-T-I-A\~
That scythe is melted, her father is gone once more, and Olympus is saved.
Their hero declines immortality and asks, instead, for the minor gods to be more respected and for demigods to be acknowledged.
He has learned to yield, it seems.
Catching the eye of the God of the Underworld at the meeting, she smiles and looks to her blazing hearth. Home is safe again.
~/H-E-S-T-I-A\~
That is, until the Earth begins to stir and yield up horrors.
I own nothing.
I fell in love with this pairing just so randomly... And so, to make up for the lack of fics for this pairing, I wrote one.