Published August 23, 2021
Content Warning: Contains allusions and brief discussions of sex, pregnancy and childbirth.
"Relations"
Hermes was the god that Hercules' friends and family interacted with the most, since he served as a messenger and guide when they wanted to communicate or travel. Meg was even more used to interacting with gods than Alcmene and Amphitryon, so she was not startled when he showed up at their house, where she was living as a guest until the wedding.
However, she was surprised when he singled her out with a summons: "Your soon-to-be father-in-law, Zeus, would like a word with you."
Meg was not easily shocked, but at that moment she found it hard not to gape. The king of the gods wanted to talk to her? "Just me? Not to Hercules?"
"Just you, milady," Hermes said; he had taken to calling her that ever since she and Hercules became engaged.
For a moment Meg wondered how the gods would react if she refused the summons. Lately, since regaining her freedom, she had relished the ability to freely exercise her own will, and sometimes acted contrary just for fun. But Zeus, while benevolent as far as gods went, was still a god, and by his blessing, she was going to join his family. So she should probably stay on his good side.
She was not afraid, exactly. She had spent plenty of time in the company of gods, and she had endured far worse from Hades than she had reason to expect from Zeus. Heck, she had even died. Hardly anything daunted her now. But she could not help feeling apprehensive about whatever it was Zeus wanted to talk about.
The truth was, she had never thought she would have any in-laws, let alone four, including a couple of gods. She was getting along well with Hercules' adoptive parents—they were kind, simple folk, supportive of their son and welcoming toward her for his sake. But the king and queen of the gods were a different situation altogether. Meg did not know what they thought of her. Perhaps they were just pleased that their son was happily in love, even if it was with such a petty, dishonest person as her. Or perhaps they resented her for taking their son from them when they were finally able to welcome him home.
Hercules saw no reason for her apprehension, and was happy to let Pegasus fly her to the temple. "You guys should get to know each other. I mean, even if we're never all going to live together, we'll always be family."
He said this cheerfully, but Meg found it just a little daunting. By binding herself to Hercules, she was binding herself to something much bigger.
Pegasus obliged her with a ride—although it was still not her preferred mode of travel, it was more tolerable now that their old enmity was gone. "Will you get me out if it looks like he's going to smite me?" Meg asked half-jokingly before they entered the imposing temple.
The winged horse snorted, giving her a reproachful look; she was not sure what it meant. But he accompanied her inside, which she took as a sign of support.
The statue of Zeus was an almost ridiculous size, and did nothing to ease Meg's trepidation. She approached as close as she could get while still keeping the head in view. "Hello? Lord Zeus? I'm here."
She was so used to Hades' fiery outbursts that she did not even flinch when a bolt of lightning struck the statue. A moment later, Zeus' stone face moved like that of a man waking up, blinking and stretching his mouth. Then he looked down on her, and smiled. "Megara! Thank you for coming." He bent over in his throne, extending his arm toward her and holding his hand out flat like a platform. "May I?"
"Uh, I think I'll stand." He might have meant to bring her up to his level, which was a nice gesture, but Meg did not like the idea of being handled.
"Suit yourself." Zeus settled back in his throne. "Hera and I thought that we should talk."
"About what?"
"Hermes has been filling us in on the details of your wedding plans, and Aphrodite has been explaining all of your mortal traditions. She brought up a point of some importance."
"What's that?" Meg asked warily.
"It's about your family—or lack thereof."
That made her a little defensive. "What of it?"
"I understand the bride's father usually gives her away. Since that's not the case—" He put a hand over his chest. "—I thought I'd offer my services."
For a moment Meg could only stare. "That's—awfully gracious of you, Lord Zeus," she said, grasping for words. "But I don't need anyone to give me. I'm finally free, and I'm giving myself away." She laughed a little. "And you—you're giving me your son. I can't even …" She looked away, ashamed.
Zeus's voice was gentle—still like thunder, but a low rumble rather than a boom. "What is it, Meg?"
She managed to meet his eyes, and decided to speak what was really in her heart. "How can you not hate me? I worked for the god who took your son from you—and now I'm taking him from you."
"My son made his choice. And if it weren't for you, he wouldn't have even had that choice," he reminded her.
"But what about his mortality? He could have lived forever with you, and instead … well, he's going to die someday, just to have some time with me."
Zeus became more somber at that. "We know. And we understand. It's not what we expected, but we would rather he be happy with you in one lifetime than be miserable without you for eternity."
"Thank you."
Zeus waved his stone hand in a generous gesture. "You're welcome here anytime. If there's ever anything I can do for you, just say the word."
Meg paused. "Actually, I did think of something … is there any chance I could talk to the Missus?"
"Well, sure. She has her own temple. I'm sure Pegasus knows the way."
"I'll stop by there next." She mounted Pegasus once more, and he flew up to perch on Zeus' palm. "Nice talking with you, Your Majesty."
"So long, Meg! I'll see you at the wedding." With that, Zeus sent them on their way with a helpful gust of wind.
Hera's temple was about half the size of Zeus's, though no less grand in style or decoration.
"You can wait outside," Meg told Pegasus. The horse looked slightly affronted, but she explained, "We're going to talk about lady things." That did the trick: Pegasus averted his eyes and retreated to graze a distance away.
Hera's statue was only about twice the size of an average human's proportions.
"Lady Hera? I need to ask you something."
Her statue became animated in a much quieter manner than that of her boisterous husband. Seeing Meg, she inclined her head with a smile. "Welcome, Meg. Zeus said you would be coming. Is everything alright?"
Meg wrung her hands, avoiding the goddess' eyes. "As of right now, yes. As for the future … I'm not so sure."
"What's troubling you?"
"Just something I thought of. I know Hercules and his parents—well, his other parents—are hoping we'll have children. And I'm not opposed to that—though I don't think I'm exactly what you'd call mother material."
"Half of my fellow goddesses could say the same," Hera pointed out.
Meg smiled appreciatively. "Well, the thing I'm wondering about is ..." She paused, trying to choose the right words, the right way to lead into the key point.
Finally she said, "Gods don't have problems with pregnancy, do they? I mean, if both parents are immortal, then the child would be immortal. No miscarriages, no stillbirths … no injury to the mother, that kind of thing?"
Hera was somewhat disturbed by this line of questioning, but she answered calmly, "That is true."
"Well … I was wondering what it was like for you, carrying Hercules … and what it might be like if we have children. I'm not immortal, or superstrong. If our children inherit his strength …"
Understanding filled the goddess' stone features. "I can see the reason for your concern. I don't have the Fates' clairvoyance, but I can tell you my experience."
"Please." Meg sat on the floor, ready to listen.
"Hercules was always strong, but in the womb, he did not kick or move so much as to cause me pain." Hera's smile became nostalgic and a bit rueful. "That being said, he was quite energetic. It seemed he couldn't wait to get out and see the world."
"To go the distance," Meg said knowingly.
"Yes. But your children will have mortal parents, and that may lessen their strength."
"I guess that's probable."
"You truly have nothing to fear, Meg. We will all watch over you and do our part to give you and your new family long, happy lives."
Meg had never liked that the gods could spy on any mortals at any time. But the idea of the whole heavenly host supporting and protecting her family was a comforting thought.
Alcmene was waiting for Meg when she returned. "Amphitryon took Hercules on errands," she explained as she poured her a warm drink. Then she grinned. "Going out in public with him isn't like it used to be. People always avoided Hercules because he would cause accidents wherever he went. Now they do the opposite—they all want to meet him!" Her pride in her adoptive son was obvious.
By now, Meg had heard quite a few stories about Hercules' childhood and adolescence. They usually embarrassed him and amused her. But they reminded her of another reason to be anxious about the future.
At this point, she supposed, she was on a roll with talking to her future in-laws; she might as well keep going. "Alcmene, can I ask you something?"
"Of course. Anything."
"When Hercules was growing up … was it hard taking care of someone who was that much stronger than you?"
"Oh, well—it was a little unnerving, sometimes. But in some ways, it was a relief. He was almost never injured—he could take any hit or a fall."
"But did he ever injure you, or anyone else, accidentally?"
"No … he figured out pretty quickly that he was different, and that he had to be careful. But he did go through an awkward phase as a teenager—well-meaning, always, but a little clumsy. I thought Phil helped him master that."
"For the most part," Meg said, thinking of the statue that Hercules had accidentally defaced in the garden.
"Is there a reason for these questions?"
"Oh, I'm just wondering about … what it'll be like to raise a family with him. He's good and gentle, but he does make mistakes, and I wonder, if he were ever too excited … or if something happened where he couldn't control his body …"
Alcmene covered her mouth to stifle her laughter. When she lowered her hand, she quirked a brow at Meg. "Dear, are you thinking about how you'll raise children, or how you'll make them?"
Meg took a long sip, hiding her expression behind her cup. It wasn't like she was shy about sex in general, but this was her fiancé's mother—adoptive, but still closest to him in relationship. Alcmene knew Hercules intimately in ways that no one else did, and Meg had yet to reach that degree of intimacy with him in a different way.
"I wouldn't worry about the two of you," Alcmene said. "As long as you communicate clearly with each other, you should be fine. But if your children turn out as strong as him, I can offer advice on that."
"Tell me. Please."
They continued talking, exchanging questions and advice and anecdotes, until the men returned. Hercules looked bashful as he approached. "Um, Meg? Can we talk? Just you and me?"
"Sure." Her lips curled into a smile. "Seems like everyone needs to talk to me, or vice versa."
"I'll leave you two alone," Alcmene said. She touched Meg's shoulder as she stood, and patted Hercules' arm as she passed him.
Hercules sat down heavily on the bench next to Meg. "I just had a talk with both of my fathers," he said.
"About what?"
"About … well … um …" Meg saw that he was blushing from his ears down to his toes, his skin turning almost as red as his hair.
She couldn't help smirking just a little. "Did it, by any chance, have anything to do with our wedding night?"
Hercules could just barely meet her eyes. "… Yeah."
Meg tilted her head at him. "You've never done it before, have you?"
"Of course not." He looked at her with an almost hurt expression. "Why would I, with anyone besides you?"
She shrugged. "I wouldn't have been surprised, with all those girls vying for your attention …"
"My goal all along was just to get to Olympus. I wasn't planning to date or marry or have kids before that. It never even crossed my mind … until I met you." His expression softened. "Then I started thinking, being human might not be so bad. I wanted to be a god and go back to my parents so I wouldn't be lonely, but you made me feel like I wasn't alone."
Meg smiled and put her hand over his. "You made me feel the same way."
He turned his hand over and squeezed hers ever so gently. "I meant what I said that night," he said softly. "I promised to never hurt you."
She squeezed his hand back, more forcefully than him, which was much weaker than he was capable of. "I know you won't."
Hercules looked at her with concern. "But … it hurts the first time, for the woman, doesn't it?"
A pregnant pause followed as Meg considered how to answer. She decided to be honest, as she had been trying to be. "It … won't be my first time."
Hercules stared, his expression darkening ever so slightly as he understood. "… Oh."
"Does that change anything?" Meg had not taken him for a jealous or judgmental type, but he was so darn innocent, she had no idea how he might feel about her level of experience.
He shook his head quickly, earnestly. "No, no. Not for me."
"You're not upset?"
"Not with you," Hercules clarified. "I'm just … sorry that you were so hurt. I mean, I knew it must have been serious, for you to do what you did, but that … you gave him everything, and he still left you. I can't …" He shook his head, at a loss to understand.
Meg looked at him without a trace of regret. "I'm glad he left me." Hercules' mouth dropped open in astonishment, until she explained simply, "I didn't deserve him." She smiled crookedly and nodded to indicate him. "And I got much better than I deserve."
Hercules took both of her hands in his own, resolve filling his features. "No, Meg—you deserve everything. When you love someone, you do whatever you can for them. And I'm going to do whatever I can for you."
Meg believed him, because he had already proven his word. He was the one person who had gone the distance for her, and after all he had given up for her, she had no doubt that he would do so again.