Her name was Adiya. The moment she stepped foot upon Olympus Hera loathed her. She hated how everyone welcomed the pathetic girl with a smile and a charming word. She hated the manner in which everybody took a gander at her the way Hermes and Apollo looked at each other during their outings together. She hated seeing Zeus take her hand and have the audacity to show her off to Olympus.
She watched everything from her throne. Not once saying a word or moving from her seat. She glowered at the girl. Her eyes burning through the girl's dark streaked, blonde hair and sun kissed skin. Her fingers twitching every time the girl's eyes met Zeus' stormy ones. Her lip curled every time she let loose one of her blinding smiles from those lips. Her mind became more and more blind with rage every time the girl moved from one place to another as if dancing. Her lilac dress danced with her while the cherry belt around her waist grabbed on tightly, refusing to let go of her curves.

Before the wench even set foot inside the throne room Hera had been judging her. She watched through the window as Zeus flaunted his latest catch. Hera scoffed as she watched the mortal's legs move. Despite being barefoot, her feet remained smooth and untarnished. She was beautiful. Perhaps the most by far of all of Zeus' conquests.

A low snarl rose from her throat as Ganymede moved toward her with a flagon of wine. She downed the cup in one swig and shoved it back into his hand, continuing her observation. Ganymede had followed her eyes out the window. He raised his eyebrows curiously. He stepped away from the Chambers, disappearing into the kitchen. The throne room doors opened.
Zeus continued to introduce the girl to the other gods as though he hadn't acquainted Adiya with them multiple times already. Eventually, he noticed his wife sitting on her throne with a gaze that would turn Medusa to stone. Adiya turned to Hera as well and the two women shared a tense stare off. The room fell silent. The crowd gave the women their space and looked on, trusting the predator to strike its prey. Nothing happened however, neither woman directed a word or gesture to the other. When the room felt hot enough to suffocate twenty men, Hera stood.
They watched in abeyance as the queen of the gods made her way from her throne to the girl's direction; her chocolate hair bouncing behind her.
Adiya couldn't look away. Hera was beautiful in her rage. Her large, brown eyes gave her such a glare it sent shivers down her spine and her fair skin matched nicely with the basil dress she wore, its skirts fluttering angrily. A brown, leather belt clung to her waist outlining the goddess's curves while also trapping the skirt's unbridled rage.
She moved like a waterway, discovering its way to the sea. Like every other god, Adiya stared at the queen intently. Bile rose in her throat. She was terrified, yet struck with awe for the woman before her. She who held her head high and her brilliant crown significantly higher; strolled right by her.
Not a subsequent look or a rude comment. Not a sneer or smack. Not a revile nor any breath escaped her plump lips. She walked past Zeus and his new conquest and left the chamber without another word. Once she was gone, oxygen made itself present in the room. Anyone with common sense knew what this meant.

Tartarus itself had been raised from the most profound pit of Hades and been set upon Olympus, the new home for the mistress of Zeus and the bane of Hera.

~o0o~

A year had come and gone and Zeus' little stunt was still the talk of the century, especially considering that Hera hadn't hurt her in the whole year. Adiya had become such great friends with everyone she met that Hera wasn't even permitted to get close enough to the little wench and gouge her eyes out, let alone strike her. She was always being guarded. Zeus always favored Adiya's side of the story to her own. They weren't even allowed alone in the same room with each other. There had been several close calls during the year. Eventually, Hera stopped. Everyone thought she had given up, but she hadn't. She decided to wait. She figured that eventually, one day, she'd be able to approach the girl and finally do her in. Lately, it seemed the gods had been getting less and less protective of the mortal. Maybe the day would come soon.

However, Hera doubted she'd be able to harm her without facing severe repercussions. Too many deities liked the girl. It seemed to Hera that everywhere she turned some immortal was talking about the little whore.
"Oh, isn't she just wonderful?"
"Isn't she just gorgeous?"
"How generous!"
"How humble!"
"How kind!"
"How hot!"
And everywhere she turned she could hear the slight hiss of whispers from those same busybodies.

"Looks like Hera's gotta share her bed with two people now, but I mean. When hasn't she?"
"Does she sleep on her couch when they're fucking?"
"I wonder what she'll do to this one?"
"Think Zeus has forgotten about her yet?"
"Adiya to Hera? Adiya any day. At least she knows what comes out of an ass."
And everyday it was the same thing. The only place she'd get any rest from the constant slander was the mortal world. She favored Russia. No one, save but a few, knew this was her getaway spot. She'd regularly go during winter when the snow would accumulate around her and she could relish in the biting embrace of the blanket that surrounded her. When it wasn't snowing, she loved visiting Saint Petersburg just to watch the gondolas calmly coast down the rivers. Sometimes she'd go and visit the Moscow cathedral and admire its bright colors or go and take in the Moscow palace in all its elegance.
Yet, when she simply needed to help her disposition and forget her miserable life on Olympus she would visit Krasnodar and sit in the sunflower fields taking in the euphoric yellow shade of the petals and cherish the plants' propensity for continually following the sun. Something she wished she could have done long ago before Zeus had forced away her maidenhood.
He'd done so many things to her throughout the years. So many unimaginable things that it was excessively difficult for her to even mention. And yet, she always stood by his side.
She'd endured beatings, infidelity, rape, and humiliation. She'd endured the pain of Zeus pining after his own daughters and her being beaten for protecting them once she discovered what he was doing. She did what she could to shield Ares from his father's fist.
And what was her reward?
The permanent residence of another one of Zeus' harlots in her own home.

Enough was enough.

She would make an example of this wench. And the torment she would bring on this bitch would make everything else she had ever done acceptable.

She would get her revenge. Even if she had to rip her own heart out for it.