Agathe
... and Agathe was born.
"You stretch like a cat, my dear" Hesiod smiled to Agathe, as she slowly awoke in the beams of the midday sun. "If I didn't know any better, I would say you were a wanton woman spending far too much time in your bedchamber and far too little time being productive."
Agathe hummed in agreement, "I am wanton... and none knows that better than you."
Hesiod chuckled, a deep rumble that she loved to hear. These were the times Agathe enjoyed the most, watching her lover happily reviewing the parchments where his latest poems were written, while she enjoyed the feelings of satiation still weaving their way through her body. How she hungered for him when he was in the city, but now he was back with her in their small country sanctuary, away from the eyes that dogged him regularly. Back where only a few servants were around to witness their leisure.
"You are obviously well pleased with what you see," she continued.
"Yes, yes this is coming together nicely. Zotikos did a nice job with the letters. I really must keep him as my regular scribe. His writing is much clearer than the others have been."
"Let me see," she requested softly, rising from her couch and wrapping the bed sheet around her shoulders as she moved to stand with him.
"And why should I show this to you?" he teased her, pulling the scroll closer to his body. "Reading is not an acceptable activity for a respectable woman."
"Good thing I'm not respectable then, isn't it" she teased back, pulling the scroll from his hands and twisting away from him as she opened it.
Hesiod always loved their banter, and wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her firm against him as he read over her shoulder. Kissing her neck lightly he whispered "My dearest Agathe, you are respectable in every sense of the word. You are my muse and without you I would be nothing. You are also the daughter of the best speaker in Athens. Don't think less of yourself."
"I'm the unacknowledged daughter of the best speaker in Athens, don't forget that part. And as for being your muse, what would your wife say about that?"
"What my wife has to say matters little, she is only for show and legitimacy, anyway. It's what I have to say that counts."
"Hmm" she hummed again, tilting her head so he could have better access to her neck.
Agathe continued reading. "I really like this part about Athena being an aegis-holder, you really do make her sound as though she were the most important goddess."
"She is, my dear, she is the Goddess of Athens. She is you."
Smiling, Agathe turned to kiss Hesiod. "I will forever be immortalized in your poetry, and yet no one will ever know."
"We will know, besides you are the one who should be held highest in this poem, not I. Perhaps I formed the words around the story, but you are the one who has created all the characterizations I've been using. Without you, this would be nothing. Where do you get the ideas anyway? How do you come up with such heros? You are the true author."
Blushing slightly, she pulled away from his embrace and handed back the scroll. "You flatter me. I just have a very active imagination, and sometimes I must think about it too intently because these gods and goddesses invade my dreams. Take Athena for example, she is more of a warrior in my mind's eye than any of the others, and she is willing to die for what she believes. I see her standing tall in her silver armour, sword held high, dark hair blowing behind her. No one will stand a chance when her wrath is kindled. And Apollo, he is always trying to make peace with the people around him, but he will fight if he needs to, making him wise as well as aggressive. He really needs a mate, however, someone who challenges him. Someone beautiful and strong in her own right."
"Just one mate?" Hesiod challenged, with a twinkle in his eye.
"You are impossible," she replied. "Isn't it bad enough that you fashioned Zeus after yourself and your many conquests? Does every male need to have dozens of lovers?"
Hesiod knew Agathe was quite sensitive about the place she held in his life, and pulled her close into his arms. "My darling, you are the only woman in my heart, and certainly the only woman in my bed. You are the mother of my most favourite child and many more, if I have my way. This.." he gestured to the scrolls on the table, "this is just indulged fantasy. This is what I do in order to make enough money to support you the way you deserve."
"The way I deserve?"
"Of course, the way you deserve. Think about it, by not being married, you can own this house and the lands around it. Your father might not be able to acknowledge you, but everyone knows you are his daughter and treats you with respect. If you were my wife, you would never be free to walk around the cities, you would never have your own money, and you would have no say over your life. I wish I could give you even more than I have, but the one thing I can give you is a voice. So what if the world never knows you helped me with my writing? I know, and the servants know. I hold you up in public as my assistant, Agathon, and no one is fooled."
Slumping against him for a moment, she allowed herself to be small in his arms and soak in his comfort, then she pulled back and stood tall again. "You do have a point, sir. Just as long as you promise that I am the only woman in your bed, and your heart, then I will let you fantasize about any woman you want."
Smiling, Hesiod stroked her arms, "Don't you realize, every woman I write is you? Strong, beautiful, capable of getting the better of men every time. I see them all with your shining green eyes and your brilliant mind and legs that never seem to end."
"Mmmm," she hummed, as she pulled herself further away and glanced over her shoulder. "Nice choice of imagery."
Hesiod chuckled again, then something caught his eye. "Only, I do think it fair to tell you there is one woman who has a stronger hold on my heart than you."
Following the direction of his gaze, Agathe furrowed her brow, then relaxed into a generous smile.
"Well alright, but I'll only share with her."
As the were talking, in bounced a young girl of six, strawberry-blonde curls dancing madly around her crown. "Pater!" she exclaimed, and leapt into his arms.
"Oh, my darling girl, look how big you've grown since I was last here. You are almost a woman like your Meter! And even more beautiful."
The little girl giggled, "Oh Pater, no one is more beautiful than Ma. Are you here for a long visit?"
"Yes, my darling girl, and what would you like to do with your Pater while I'm here? Are there dragons to slay or princes to rescue or maybe even gems to find?"
"Oh Pater, none of that. While you're here, can you teach me how to write?"
Hesiod looked at Agathe with an expression of confusion and consternation, which only resulted in a shrug and a smile of superiority. He continued stroked the head of his daughter, but never took his eyes from Agathe's cheeky grin. "So, your Meter is teaching you how to read? You do know that girls don't read, don't you?"
"Ma said every smart girl should read, and I am very smart, Pater. Besides, how else can I pretend you're always here if I can't read your poems?"
Caught, Hesiod closed his eyes and shook his head. These green-eyed beauties would be the death of him, he was sure, but how could he refuse their logic? "You are very right, my darling, but the problem is your Pater doesn't know how to write. I have a scribe for that purpose."
"Then send the scribe to me," she reasoned.
"I don't know if he would willingly teach a girl his craft. What if every girl in the world could read and write, what would happen then?"
"Then the world would be a much smarter place, Pater."
Agathe couldn't help her laughter. "Your daughter has your way with words, Hesiod."
"It would seem she has your wit, as well," he replied. Then as a way of distraction, he sat down on the large couch, and opened the scroll he had been reading earlier so they could both look at the words. "Can you read this to your Pater?" he asked.
"Can't you read?" his daughter asked, concern clouding her voice.
Hesiod kissed her head and smiled, "Yes Darling, I can read. I just want to see how well you read."
Nodding her agreement, the small family gathered around the scroll as the young girl read. Hesiod had to admit he was very impressed with how much his daughter had learned, and how he only had to help with the more difficult words. Then suddenly, she squealed.
"Pater! That's my name! You used my name in your story?"
"Of course, darling, how am I supposed to pretend you are around me all the time if I don't use your name?" he replied, echoing her earlier sentiment.
Agathe smiled as her daughter beamed. "And when everyone reads this story, Hera, the world will know your name." Then to Hesiod, she said "I do wonder about the choice in character though. The Hera in your story is not always... sympathetic. Why not another woman."
"Ah," Hesiod replied, "because my poem will show the world that Hera is a great goddess who will be seen as mother of the whole Pantheon. Everyone will know her and respect her power."
And these are the generations of Agathe.
Agathe gave birth to Hera.
Hera gave birth to Nike.
Nike gave birth to Alexis.
Alexis gave birth to Eupraxis.
Eupraxis gave birth to Pelagia.
Pelagia gave birth to Theokleia.
Theokleia gave birth to Diana...
(Ed. Note: Hesiod was a poet in Ancient Greece. Among his many works was Theogony, which is the first full story of the origin of the Greek Gods.)