Had love Lost love : Yes I am, sorry it took so long.

Anastasia The Goddess of Drama : Don't worry, their some Hera Iris mother daughterness here.

nlgirl17 : Thank you! I hope you like the dialog here too.

BookPowers : Your welcome.

Vanessa Masters : Hit the nail on the head.

chapter: X

In the same way the released light from Helios' incandescent sun refused captive imprisonment by sliver-spun clouds; or how the bolt of lightning, once thrown, is free from the grasp of the lord of thunder, the Power of the hearth goddess' words sprung froth like water from a newly erupted geyser, rushing forward like a spring to fill the vase of the child-goddess' psyche. It poured into it, golden and irrepressible, in the same manner wine was poured to fill an oenchoe.

The girl's limbs trembled with the over-flow, and her senses were made aware of how every drop of water in the stream -each more brilliant than lapis- rippling by past stony bedrock, clashing against one another like opposing warriors all the way, their spears locked in ringing battle for all eternity.

She could heard the whispered rustling of the leaves of the laurel trees surrounding them; feel the faint echo of the dryads they use to be, before their time on Gaia's surface had ended, and the rays of the sun became their only companions besides the wind.

Iris even saw the subtle movements of her own friends' limbs, as they also reacted in their own ways to the news of her summons. Some of the expressions which played across their faces spoke of clear surprise, but also an unabashed delight, their eyes lighting from within at what, on first glance, seemed to be an excellence turn of fortune for their young friend.

But others felt their brows furrow at the unusual way the news was being brought forth. Never before had Hestia Presveira been a mere errand maid - such a menial task was the rightful duty of a satyr or a nymph. Not the honored sister of the bethroned Queen.

But while Iris also noticed this...what could she do? She could hardly refused. With unmaidenly haste, the goddess-child was at the higher Megala Thea's side. So swift were her eager feet, that her friends were left to chough and gasp aloud at the Iris-shape dust cloud floating in the Handmaiden's wake.

"Well I guess we know where we rank in the scheme of things," Echo jokingly whispered with a grin, as the girls fanned the dust cloud away from themselves, back into the nothingness that sired it. Cyrene's face turned ghostly white.

"Echo, for once in your life, hold your tongue!" the hamadryad hissed through her teeth, her olive shoulders hunching in dismay as the others stifled their laughs, not seeing the danger.

"What task, Milady?" the rainbow goddess asked dutifully, while her hand adjusted her diadem so it rested proudly on her head. Duty and loyalty both insisted that she pretended she hadn't heard Echo, for the Oread's shake. Lady Hestia seemed to take this course of action as well...though she did raised an apprising eyebrow at the Oread, for the briefest moment. But the Eldest was content to keep her counsel on the matter.

0)o(0

Turning to Iris, the hearth goddess merely shook her auburn head at her.

"I cannot say Thaumantias," Lady Hestia replied diplomatically; but her ring-less hand was suddenly tugging her veil across her mouth, and the Thea's burning eyes were strategically downcast in her show of arranged demureness. "For on the River of Scared Styx, I swear to you that I do not know. My Lady Sister would not confide her thoughts in me."

And though she valiantly tried to hide it, it was evident to all on the riverbank that this new turn of affairs had pained the gentle Olympian deeply. It was reflected in the diminished light of her eyes, and the flexing of her fingertips, and the sound of loss that was woven in the words of her voice.

Echo was no longer grinning now; her laughing face having gone solemn and grim. And Cyrene was no longer pale with absolute dread. Iris, for her part, was in dismayed amazement, and didn't know what to say or how to say it. From the beginning of the Titanomakhia War all the way to it's end, the Ladies Hestia and Hera had been each others dearest and most trusted companions.

Due to being the only truly domesticated gods of their order -with the others' being heavily intertwine with the (more often than not) destructive the forces of nature- it had only sense that they'd drawn closer over the had all but shared a soul, one that merely happen to dwelled within shared minds. Iris remembered how in the evenings after the menfolk had returned, and were resting for battle, the Megala Theas would be seen sitting outside their tents with their heads bent together, as they dreamed of a future beyond the war and it's killing fields.

One of order, culture, and hierarchy, which would endure for a thousand years.

But it appeared that the Lady Sisters dreamed separately now.

"Oh," Aglaia breathed out, her eyes rounded with pity, and her hand softly began beating against her breast. "Lady Hestia..."

With one hand the young goddess reached behind her, to her sisters, who grimly clenched it with both of their own. Framed by their dark tresses, the three dawn-touched faces of the Graces told the depths and worth of their sympathy to the Olympian; as vast and everlasting as than the sky their sire traveled.

But Hestia sternly shook her head, and raised a hand to stop the Graces, letting her veil fall.

"No sympathy dear girls," commanded Rhea's eldest daughter. "I am not to be pitied. Not when there will be many far more deserving of it. A sister is a very different creature from a Queen. It is right that her undivided loyalty should no longer belongs solely to me..."

Her lips thinned again, despite her words.

"But no more of this," Hestia said firmly. "Such grave lessons are not for you girls to learn. Not yet. Come Thaumantias. The Rulers of Heaven are not ones to be kept waiting."

0)o(0

It might have merely been her own perspective, but to Iris, it seemed that the distant from the riverbank back to the citadel had shortened considerable. Of course, that could merely be due to the fact that she was flying now, on Lady Hestia's suggestion.

"While I don't know exactly what task they have in store for you Thaumantias, I do know that my sister was hard pressed to connivance her husband that you were capable of fulfilling it. But I feel that the Thunderer still has doubt...so you shall need to make an entrance child, one that will show your Power in all it's glory, and have them remember it."

Her Power...what was her Power?

Iris cringed as her mind came up empty, her face burning with shame. She was no great goddess. No Megala Thea - there were no temples were being raised in her name. No hymens, prayers, or songs had been written in her honor, praising the glory of the rainbow bringer. No race of Men in Greece offered burned meat, or poured libations, for the favor of Iris Thaumantias. And if they did, what could she possible offer them? She had no favors to grant. Or gifts to give.

Should the mortals ever come to know her, and she them, the rainbow goddess highly doubted that they would ever quiver in her presence. Who would trembled before, nevermind respect, a color-adorn goddess maiden? By the thunderbolts...she hadn't even been able to arrange a communication with her mother yet; with Lady Demeter having abruptly departed from Olympus after Chelone's punishment, carrying her daughter like a doe frighten for her fawn, and returning to her duties in the Eleusis Fields without another word regarding her promise to the rainbow goddess. Which meant for all purposes, the offer had never happened, disappearing like twilight under cypresses trees, an opportunity lost and missed.

Wincing, Iris quickly turned from that line of thought.

So what was her Power then? What distinguished her, to the point where it could catch the eye of Lord Zeus? Well she...she...

She was, by her father's ichor, a goddess of the sea. With many of the benefits implied by such a lineage - to a small extent, the waves of the deep obeyed her will, as did the creatures who lived there. And by her mother, she was a goddess of the sky - hardly to the extent of being irreplaceable important, but enough that the winds would heed her, should she ever call upon them. To the best of her knowledge, no other deity could claim to have influence, small though it was, in two of the three realms of the world.

And moreover...by the combination of the two, Iris Thaumantias had in her possession what no other deity in Greece did, and certainly couldn't command if they had.

Rainbow, she summoned within her mind, from purest part of her psyche. Come.

In answer a soft twang resounded through the air, like the plucked strings of an instrument, ringing like purest sliver. And in a sudden burst of light, the Rainbow was there, shinning and pure and good. Playful as a kitten, it at first soared directly above her, before twirling over her head to fly beneath her, all the while dancing like a tambourine in a temple priestess's hands.

Rolling her eyes, Iris shook her head at her soul's self in mock chastisement. We've no time for games my friend, come to my hand.

The Rainbow tingled with the order, and with good reason too. It was a rare thing, for a creature to hold its own life-force in hand. Iris had only attempted it a number of times, in greatest need. Now, she felt, was just such a time. After a moment's pause, the Rainbow obeyed. Shrinking itself to a cord like thickness, it twirled it's way into it's avatar's waiting hand. The goddess took it's gleaming coils, and in one swift move, decorated her waist with it, replacing her girdle.

It's ends lashed about, like whips, striking the gold ornaments on her shift and the pearls in her diadem, as well as her violet-blue eyes, setting them alit with divine radiance.

Yes...this was it. This was right. This was her Power, the very essence of herself. Let the other gods strike fear into Men's hearts.

Iris would inspire wonder.

0)o(0

"My Lord I assure you, she is fully capable," Hera stated, her tone stiff and unbending. Once more, the Queen found herself responding to the question that was again being posed to her - and by her own husband, of all things, she fumed to herself. Frustrated to utter exasperation at their stalemate, the Queen violently strove to keep her temper, and ran her hand down the front of her attire to assure herself that everything was in it's proper place.

She was dressed in a pale green peplos that trailed past her ankles, lavender flowers having been expertly woven into the hem of it's delicate skirt, and onto it's mantle. The linen was so fine, even the slightest breeze caused it to ripple around her legs. Chin up and face impasse, Leukolenos was standing tall by her Thronos.

And yet her fingers clung desperately to it's cold stone, as a shipwrecked sailor would to the floating debris of his vessel in the sea god's ocean. Meanwhile her husband brooded in his own seat. The Lightening Welder had concealed his mouth in his hand as his mind maundered it's own dark corners with uncharacteristic graveness.

And while strands of white lightning shot like arrows across the blue of his eyes, and the blackness of his beard, the Thunderer was carefully to contain it within himself so the sky was undisturbed, and the wider world remained ignorant of their plans and soon-to-be-deeds.

Despite her Lord's efforts, the marriage goddess couldn't deny that the atmosphere in their shining columned hall had become rather...electrified...due to the Lightning Welder's rising Power, as her husband wrestled with thoughts that not even she could claim to know. Hera's carefully arranged tresses were beginning to frizz with rising humidity, while slowly, her gown began to clench at her immortal skin. She shifted uncomfortably, and her necklace of a dozen garnet and silver leaves rustled uneasily against her white throat.

Meanwhile Zeus had finally lowered his hand to rest on his gold clothed knee, and breathed out in a way reminiscence of the serpent Python, who guarded the town of Pythia - a very useful but rather unsavory beast.

"So you have said Wife. Again and again," said the lord of the sky. With rising irritation, he added, "And I still say that the girl is merely your handmaiden - a clever one, perhaps, but in my sight that is further reason not to trust her with as monumental a task as this! I'm aware that you have been taken with the child-"

"That hardly has anything to do with it My Lord!" Hera protested heatedly, emerald eyes flashing.

"-but if she were to go to a handful of the other gods with the knowledge you wish it given her, it could very possibly spell the beginnings of another war."

Her face flushing with royal indigence, the Queen's discomfort suddenly fled from her like water off a drake's back. "It is not as though I thrill at the situation we're in my lord," the White Armed snapped back, with the pettiness of a small dog. "A situation that you were good enough to get us into, might I remind you-"

Zeus's eyes flared at that, and the humidity in the hall cracked suddenly, like a stinging blow to the face. But Zeus again restrained himself. After all, it wasn't as though he had a defense to such an honest statement. But Lord of Olympus stayed ridged in his seat, and it took Hera a moment to realize that her husband was counting to ten.

Wisely adopting a softer tone than the one she'd previously used, Hera summoned all her courage to carried on her argument. "And if not Iris...who could fulfill this task? Hestia? Prometheus? Epimetheus? You know that they would never agree...and then we would have to punish them for disobedience. Or Hades himself, perhaps? He would never willingly surrender a richness that only he possesses. You and I cannot walk into another god's domain without expressed invitation...there is no other choice Milord. I would not trust this task to a half-wit nymph."

0)o(0

After saying this, Hera firmly closed her mouth and waited, her oxen eyes imploring. She held her breath as Zeus breathed out again, a much more weary sound than before, and his great fingers moved to rub his brow beneath his golden-crown of laurel leaves. Glancing up at his Queen, his great face suddenly soften, and the Thunderer gestured for the White Armed to take her Thronos.

"Sit Hera," he commanded her gently. "Let us be friends in this matter."

At once she obeyed, for she'd be a fool not too- and as she delicately took her smaller seat at the Lightening Wielder's left-hand side (the right being where he kept his thunder-bolts) the marriage goddess was pleasantly surprised when her lord took her hand in his own, causing her heavy bangles to chime and rattle. Glaring around at the three remaining Thronoi that were vacant of their owners, and the dim burning of the hearth that sat lonely in the hall's center, Hera felt their grip tighten.

This bond between them, full of angry affection, was their one true shield they had against all the rest, agaisnt the dogs that ever baited for thier power and thier ichor. And until the time came where her body gave them children, to insure their hold on the Pantheon, it would remain their only shield.

"...I supposed your right, my Lady," the sky god murmured, as he gazed up at the carved ceiling. "We only have bad options here...and yours seems to be the best of them."

Hera's heart swelled in her breast like an excited dove, and she swallowed painfully. Inclining her head so that her circlet gleamed in late morning light, she tightened her grip on her husband's hand, so that her marriage ring pressed into his palm. "Thank you Milord."

Zeus offered her the faintest twitch of his lips before his face furrowed once more, like a pondering lion. "Yet even so..." he murmured aloud, holding his chin in his hand. "I don't like to think of what the other gods of our court will say, when word get out that we're sending a maiden goddess of my wife to visit my brother's domain. It's unseemly..."

Hera scowled at the implication. "Rubbish," she sniffed dismissively. "Queen Frigg of the Aesir has a maiden that runs her errands - and none call their virtue into question."

The Thunderer snorted at her reply. "That's because said maiden would have her horse trample anyone who dared to say anything against her mistress...no...to persevered you honor, and hers, we'll need a solution..."

Suddenly, his wily eyes gleamed." And I believe I have one. Our court is still in need of an official messenger, is it not?"

Hera's ichor quickened in her veins. "My lord?" she asked, hardly daring to believe it.

Zeus grinned fully at her now, arching a playful brow. "Why so surprised my lady? Wasn't it only a short time ago, when you said to me that Thaumantias could have a larger role to play in the Cosmos, than merely being our errand girl?"

The marriage goddess found that she could hardly speak. "...Thank you, my lord..."

But her husband merely held up his hand. "Don't thank me yet Lady, first we must see if she is-"

But this sentence, the mighty Thunderer never finished.

Suddenly one of Zeus' servants -a scholarly, wood-satyr (with the oddest sort of cautious curiosity)- appeared at the bronze platted cedar doors; his red hooves clamping gracelessly on the brightly painted tiles, and announcing his coming long before his physical presence did. And when his rounded-out self did finally appear, the great pillars of the Hall grossly distorted his silhouette, causing it to first grow like planted dragon's teeth, before shrinking again to it's humble self.

"M-m-my Lord," the goat-man stammered, bowing so hastily to Zeus, his oak tree wreath nearly silpped off his horns. "Milady-"

He then performed the same for Hera, wisely not daring to meet either of his sovereigns all-seeing gazes. Bending at what must have been an uncomfortable angle, he stuttered, "T-the h-h-handmaiden is-s-s here."

Hera felt her eyebrow lift. That was all? Well it was good that the girl was punctual, but charming as Iris was, she was hardly a figure to inspire the slack-jaw look the satyr -Tumulus- had in his gaze. Curious.

But then again, Tumulus had always been a high-strung servant, one who would find the shade of a mouse to be imposing.

"Well, send her in then," Zeus said, waving a hand impatiently. "We do not have all day."

Tripping over himself, Tumulus, son of Strachys, slowly fumbled his way backwards, bowing lower and lower all the way. "Y-yes, yes my Lord. Right away Lord. And Lady," he added hastily, by this point so bent over that his red beard trialed on the floor. Sitting on her Thronos, tapping a single finger on it's side, Hera was sure that she had never seen a more pathetic display in her Deathless life.

It seemed to take an eon, but eventually the groveling satyr made it end of the hall, pausing only say, "I-If I may b-be so bold, your Majesties? Shield your eyes."

0)o(0

Shield your eyes...?

The Queen of Olympus barely had time to mouthed the words back to herself, before their cause effortlessly swooped into the Hall, and her iridescent light was filling every and every space it could, even as her golden wings fluttered coyly at her monarchs before folding up against their little mistress's shoulders, appearing for all the world to merely be a extension of her honey-gold hair.

Zeus was now seated upright in his Thronos, and his eyes clear in their astonished disbelief. The King of the Gods was utterly unable to recoil this gleaming maid of a thousand hubs to the grim faced child-servant he had met on his nuptials, and even more so to the trembling, ragged child-courier dragged before him in disgrace with her family; and in the face of their incompetence, had possessed the sense to toss her lot in with the winning side.

Hera too sat amazed, her hand having flown to her throat, unable to tear her eyes away. The colors, the colors...so many beautiful, glorious colors. Flowing, bending, sifting, changing. Creating. It...it took her back, back to the day, dawn, when she had suddenly found herself freed from the stomach of Cronus, and it's endless nothingness. She remembered what it had been like to first opened her eyes, as mewling and helpless as infant exposed to the elements. Terror had sized hold of her soul instantly. For as horrid as the dark of Cronus was, it had at least been familiar. Hera knew it, had grown to a woman in it, and out of necessity, had learned how to survived it. It hadn't been so difficult. After all, she had not been alone.

And then she had been ripped away from it, from everything she'd every know. The dark she had long grown accustom to had been replaced with light. Burning, scorching light, that was twice as painfully to those who only knew the Dark. She, the youngest daughter of Rhea, the goddess of marriage, the future Queen of Olympus...had sobbed like a child. She had cowered in the dirt, with her white arms wrapped around her, mercifully unaware that she was naked, with only her chestnut waves covering her unseen glory, and persevering her virtue. And then, as her trembling from was lifted up from the dirt, into unfamiliar arms that were far too strong to be her sisters'...well, that only served to enhanced her horror. Though to be fair, the future Thunderer had thought only to comfort her - without success.

She had wanted to return to the Dark...but then...the colors. The colors.

Such beautiful, glorious colors. When the burning had gone away, which she later understood to be her eyes adjusting, she had seen the colors. Form Zeus' arms, Hera had seen the striking azure of the sky, laced with Eos' rouge. She had seen the clouds, in their soft whiteness, so unlike the burning. She had seen the warmth green of the leaves, and yellows and crimsons and violets of the wild flowers that surrounded her. She saw the gold of the sun...and came to learn that in and of itself, it was not a thing to be feared, but adored.

For the light it provided allowed you to see the colors. See all the marvelous shades, and feel the dawning revelation that you were alive.

Until that moment, Hera hadn't understood that fact, hadn't truly known it. And she would never forget it, never forget the utter wonder that realization brings with it. Even when Zeus, pleased and impressed with the rate in which she had calmed herself, had bore her away, calling her Leukolenos with every step.

No...Hera would never forget the colors that had shown her the world.

And she would not lie...at least not to herself, within her own mind. Seeing Thaumantias, the daughter of Wonder, coming towards them to stand there before the dais, with ripples of color spreading across the golden silk with every step...Basileia felt for the briefest moment that perhaps it should not be she who was making a pretty bow. And if Iris' Wonder could enchanted Rulers of Heaven to feel so...what would happen then, if they should send her abroad?

Well, one think was absolutely certain. Iris was not destined to solely remain an home-bound servant girl, unheard and unseen before the mortal world. A brief glance at her lord told the Queen that despite himself, he was impressed.

"My honored Lord," Iris murmured eyes respectfully downcast. "My honored Lady. I am here to serve. What is your will?"

Zeus raised an eyebrow, and Hera fought to prevent the upwards tugging of her lips. All that pretty glory, and the wisdom to be humble about it before your superiors. A rare combination if there ever was one.

Yet even so, The Thunderer wasted no time in relying his instructions to her. "Thaumantias," he boomed. "The task we lay before you is one of delicacy, and utmost importance. It will take no small amount of wits and charm, a touch of diplomacy...and a man's courage. It is the belief of my wife that despite your tender age, you possess these traits. And should you chose to accept this task - this quest...your reward will be glory everlasting, beyond what you ever dreamed."

Zeus' eyes flashed with Power. "Do you accept?"

Hera watched closely as the girl swallowed. Hard. But she did not falter. In a firmer voice than before, the goddess-child replied, "I am here to serve."

"...I'll take that as yes then," Zeus said flatly after a moment had past, and had it not been utterly undignified, Hera would have snorted.

"Very well then," The Thunderer continued. "You quest, Iris Thaumantias, is to venture down to the dominion of Hades Polyxenos (The Host of Many). There you shall speak my word to him, and say to the Silent One that it is the order of Zeus, his lord brother, that you be allowed to take the water of the River Styx, and return with it to the surface."

0)o(0

As the King spoke, Iris' face gradually lost all of it's olive color, replacing it with an unseemly white. She also stumbled a bit, and had to catch herself. Yet even so, Hera was rather optimistic - after all, most servants would have fainted dead away after receiving such task -quest- and have needed reviving before being sent on their way.

But while Iris manage to keep hold of her senses, her large eyes look for all the world as helpless as a newborn fawn. Hera felt a twitch of sympathy, even as she was reach behind her Thronos, and pulled from it's shadow what was to be Iris' only aid from them - a red clay oinochoe, a water pitcher; one that had been painted with the grim images of mortals being judged by the gods on it's rim. Rising from her seat, Hera Basileia made her way with elegant steps down the dais, her girdle swinging with every movement of her legs.

Reaching the child, she held out the oinochoe, and waited with mild impatience for the girl to take it. When at last Iris did, Hera lifted her hand, and took hold of the child-goddess' round chin.

"Listen carefully Iris," The Queen firmly addressed her Handmaid, "When you collect the water, you mustn't allow it to touch your skin, nor must you think to it drink. You mustn't take any food or drink in that place, or your stay there as Hades' guest will be a good long while. And we will be powerless to retrieve you. Listen not to the cries of the souls, nor give then anything...they are beyond help."

With that, Hera released her. "We expect nothing less than success," the goddess called, and the girl walked away towards the doors, her radiance somewhat dimmed. "So I suggest you begin with the help of Forethought."

Review make me happy, so tell me what you thought and I'll update sooner. Sorry it took so long. But I'm in collage now and that has to come first.

Well take about one heck of a first mission - I figure the use of the Styx water had to start somewhere early in the regin of Zeus. Specking of Zeus, I tried to show a softer side to his and Hera's marriage...their had to be some reason he was willing to marry her instead of just Queening her. Angry affection I thought, was a good way to put it.

And as for Hera...how was her thoughts, on how she felt when she came into the world?

P.S...does anyone know who Forethought is