For Athena, there was no finer feeling than the removal of her armor after a long day of work. She lifted off her helmet and rolled her neck, stretching it until, to her relief, she felt it pop.
"The weight of duty," she said as she handed the helmet to her attendant. "It bears on us all."
Over the centuries, Athena had come to be a patroness of civilization itself - of invention, strategy, justice, mathematics, science, artistic endeavors, and military defense. She presided, in one way or another, everything.
Her helmet, crafted by Hephaestus, was the symbol of her power. Cocked above her brow like a crown, it left her face and neck fully visible, illustrating that she had no need for defensive equipment. To those she favored, her helmet symbolized the protection she had chosen to provide for them; to those who worshiped other gods, it reminded them of the far reach of her hand; and to those who offended her, it sung a warning of sure destruction.
But at the end of the day, after the metal had pressed into her scalp for almost twelve hours, she wanted nothing more than to take it off.
"May I draw a bath for you, my lady?"
"No," Athena replied. "That will be all for today."
The attendant nodded her head and left the room.
Exhaustion aside, Athena took great pride in her work. As she sat on the edge of her bed, massaging her aching muscles, she thought of all that she did for her people and smiled. Who else curbed the bloodlust of Ares, the passions of Aphrodite, the plights of Ceres, the frivolity of Dionysus, the deceptions of Hermes, the floods of Poseidon, the voracity of Zeus, or the envy of Hera? Who else would be able to maintain order while everyone else shirked their duties? Was it not wisdom? Is not such peace worth a little pain?
"My lady," said the attendant, returning to the doorway. "Hera is here to see you."
"Good," said Hera as she burst into the room. "You're still awake. I have a proposition for you."
Athena closed her eyes. The days work is never done. "Good evening to you, as well, Hera."
"It's about Hephaestus," Hera continued as she sat down on a couch by the bed.
"Please," said Athena, "have a seat."
"I know we share a mutual... dislike for each other," Hera continued, ignoring Athena's comment. "But I believe we also have mutual interests."
"What interests?" said Athena.
"Domestic harmony."
"Oh, yes," Athena said, surprised that Hera's answer hadn't been something more petty. "That is right. Do continue."
"Yes, well. While I have great respect, as you know, for the sanctity of marriage..."
"Yes, I am well aware."
"There are times, I believe, where the dissolution of a marriage is necessary for the preservation of domestic peace." Hera folded her hands in her lap, satisfied with her choice of words.
"I would agree," replied Athena.
"I'm glad to hear you say that," said Hera. "I'm sure you have noticed that my son's domestic life is, shall I say, less than peaceful..."
Athena nodded her head. So this was about Aphrodite, she thought. Of course it was. "If you are referring Aphrodite's fidelity, then yes, I believe the troubled nature of their marriage is common knowledge."
"And is it not common knowledge that Hephaestus has been faithful to his wife, in spite of her infidelity?"
"Yes, I believe this is a commonly held opinion."
"It is not opinion," said Hera. "It is fact."
"I do not doubt what you say," replied Athena, wishing Hera would just get to her proposition already. "Marriage is, after all, your realm of expertise."
Hera was sure Athena meant that as an insult, but she tried to let it slide. "Should not such fidelity be rewarded?"
"If you believe so."
"And do you not believe so?"
"Are you asking for my counsel on this matter?"
As if she would ever seek Athena's counsel on anything, thought Hera. Athena's ego was inflated enough, doing all the work for Hephaestus, Aphrodite, Ares, and Eros while they were off on some perverted family vacation. What was Hephaestus thinking... 'Let's go on vacation with my wife, her lover, and their son? Like one big happy family?' That's sure to go well.
Hera shook her head, trying to get herself to focus. This was important, she thought. Somehow, Athena had to think she came up with all of this herself. No one could know that she was the one behind it, or Zeus would put a stop to it. If Athena thought something was a good idea, then by all means it must be a good idea... After all, wasn't she Athena the wise... the just... the merciful... the hypocritical... the self-righteous... the pig-headed little...
No, she thought. Don't get distracted... Stay calm...
"Yes," Hera finally said, trying not to look too pained as she spoke. "I am."
"Oh," said Athena, somewhat in shock.
"If that's alright," said Hera, trying her best to sound sheepish.
"No," she replied. "Of course. Please..." Athena waved her hand, gesturing as tried to think of the word she wanted to say. "Continue, yes. Please continue."
"Alright," replied Hera, taking a moment to gather her thoughts. "I know I can't treat this situation the way I would a human marriage," she continued. "Hephaestus and Aphrodite are not human beings. They are not my devotees; they are my sacred neighbors, and as much as I want to help my son, I need to respect their divinity."
"I'm listening," said Athena.
"That's why I came here tonight. I'm the patron of marital peace, yet my son is in one of the most disastrous marriages on Mount Olympus. I want to help him, but I feel like there's nothing I can do." Which in some ways, Hera thought, was true, though she hated admitting it it to someone so smug.
"So what is your proposition?"
"I don't want my son to be in pain anymore," she said. Which, again, was true. He was clearly in a great deal of pain. Anyone could see that. "Loving someone who doesn't love you..." She sighed. "No one deserves that."
Athena moved her chair closer to Hera. The image of Hephaestus, dragging Aphrodite and Ares through the streets, flashed through her mind. Everyone always talked about the two bodies bumping on the cobblestones, bound in a net no one could see - but what Athena remembered most about that day was the face of one dragging them. "I agree," she replied. "It is unjust."
"You work with Hephaestus sometimes, right?" asked Hera. "On your inventions?"
Athena swallowed. "Why do you ask?"
"Has he ever talked with you about his marriage?"
"At times."
"What has he said?"
More images flashed through Athena's head. Hephaestus slowly losing his composure, hurling the arrows he'd made against the wall of his forge, hunched over an anvil, hiding his face as he wept. "He is a very private person," she said.
"There's only so much a person can hide."
Athena took a deep breath. Time to change the subject. She leaned toward Hera, tilted her head slightly to the side, and resting her hands, palms up, in her lap, tried to look as compassionate as possible. "Yes, I can see that."
"He probably thinks that... Wait, what do you mean 'you can see that'? Why did you say it like that?"
"Just that, given the nature of this meeting tonight, I assumed that you would sympathize with that statement," said Athena, glad that Athena had taken the bait. "I'm sorry, I meant nothing by it."
"Bah," said Hera. "As if anybody can keep a secret on this stupid mountain."
"I don't know," Athena replied. "From what you've said this evening, you seem to hide a great deal about yourself."
Hera rolled her eyes. Athena thinks she knows everything, she thought. "OK," she said. "Enlighten me. What could I possibly hide about myself that everyone here doesn't already know?"
"Well," Athena replied, "if you really want to know what I think, it seems like you're projecting your own experiences and desires onto your son."
"I'm projecting my own- this is absurd. He dragged his own wife through the streets in a net, and you think I'm 'projecting'."
"Yes, they've had some incredibly difficult patches in their marriage. But they seem to have made up since then. Hephaestus told me a few months ago that he and his wife were going on a pleasure cruise. From the way he talked about her, he seemed to be happy."
"Ha! Right, like-"
"Do you think it's possible that when you look at your son and Aphrodite, that you see yourself and Zeus?"
"But she-"
"That maybe, you might be trying to 'fix' their marriage because what you really want is-"
"You have no idea what your talking about! I am the goddess of marriage, of fidelity, of-"
"To dissolve your own?"
Hera's voice dropped. "I would never leave my husband..."
"But when you think someone is in a marriage like yours, you think the right thing to do is-"
"I know what I said."
Athena took a deep breath. "Then why do you think it would be best for your son to leave Aphrodite?"
"I already told you," said Hera, thinking it might be time for her to leave this conversation.
"But what if Aphrodite wants to work things out with him? How would you know?"
"Because I know," said Hera.
The first time Zeus had gone to see her, she had wanted nothing to do with him. Even before their marriage, Zeus' reputation for sleeping around was already so bad that their mother, Rhea, had refused to let him marry anyone. But her mother's mandate didn't matter - she didn't want to be with him anyway. It didn't matter how powerful he was, or that he told her she was beautiful, or that he called for her night after night. She wanted a partner who loved her, who respected her, who wanted her to feel happy and safe. That was why she had opened the window to let in that poor cuckoo bird, because she thought it needed a safe place out of the rain. That was why she held it close to her chest, because it was shivering. She didn't know. That was just the kind of person she was.
When she first agreed to marry Zeus, she was told that, as the Queen of Mount Olympus, her job would be to protect all human wives. To better understand the needs of human wives, she was asked to bind herself to the marital customs of her people - to go through every ritual they performed, to submit herself to every law that applied to them, and to live as they would live at home. She was told that women all over Greece would love her, would respect her, would ask for her help so they could feel safe and happy. At the time, she was so ashamed that she would have agreed to anything.
She had wasted centuries thinking that things would change, she thought, but they never did. She didn't care if Athena thought she was projecting - this she knew. This never changed.
"They seem to be in a good place now," said Athena. "Wouldn't it be wrong to separate them now?"
"If they are in such a good place," Hera retorted, "where is Ares?"
"I don't know," said Athena, though she'd assumed weeks ago that he'd gone after her. "He has not made a habit of telling me his plans."
"He left the same day she did," said Hera, "and he's been gone as long as she has. Don't you find that strange?"
"There have been stranger coincidences," said Athena, trying desperately to keep her cool despite her overwhelming exhaustion.
"Oh come on!" said Hera, throwing up her hands. "You know where he went!"
"Fine," Athena admitted. "I've considered that as a possibility. But Eros left that day, too. I'm sure he left to stop him."
"Well, he clearly hasn't been very successful, then," replied Hera. "They've all been gone for months."
Athena sighed. "There's only so much one can do."
Hera peered at Athena. "I can see that," she said with a smile.
Athena rolled her eyes in frustration, wanting nothing more than to just go to bed. "And just what do you mean by that?"
"You're doing the work of five deities," said Hera. "You must be tired."
"I do what I need to do," said Athena, getting up from her chair and turning her back toward Hera.
"But you can't keep this up forever," replied Hera, getting up from the couch and walking toward her. "Doesn't everything work better when everyone is doing their jobs?"
"No, actually, it doesn't," said Athena, so exasperated by the entire evening that she couldn't hold herself back any longer. "Everything runs so much more smoothly when people are gone. There's less war, less drama, less mistakes for me to fix. It's easier to just do it all myself. Let them stay where-ever they are. I don't care."
"You can't do everyone's job," said Hera. "What about Hephaestus? What if something goes wrong with something he's made? Not even you could fix that."
Athena sat down on the edge of the bed, seemingly dejected. "That wouldn't happen," she muttered. "What he makes doesn't break."
Hera knelt down before Athena and looked her in the eye. "Let Aphrodite and Ares stay there," she said. "You know this whole thing is just a ruse. She's probably sneaking off somewhere right now. What with everything she's done, I don't care if she comes back either. But help me bring my son. Please."
"OK, fine," mumbled Athena. "I'll help you. For Hephaestus."
I can't believe it's chapter 55! Thanks for sticking What is Love all this time! Your kind reviews are so encouraging! We're in the home stretch now - if you haven't posted yet, I'd love to read what you think love is!
Much love,
Brecky
