The baths of Rhea's youth would take place in the cold lake, supplemented by showers beneath mild storms. Otherwise, the tedious task of getting herself wet and scrubbing her skin raw never appealed to her. A Titaness need not bother when she can make the dirt rise up and disappear without a second thought.
This is not the same on Mount Othrys.
A party of nymphs swarms into her chambers by the morning, snatching her from bed and forcing her to journey to the palace's thermae. She has half a mind to disintegrate at least two of them until their supple hands begin to caress olive oil into every inch of flesh. This is more than a simple act of hygiene – this is a ritual.
Rhea purrs throughout most of it, eye half-closed, a promise on her lips that she will never leave this room. Kronos be damned.
That is until Theia and Phoebe, loud and boisterous, barge in. They clap their hands, inciting the nymphs into another rampage. Rhea is pulled from the thermal waters and escorted once again to her room.
Nearly a hundred gowns shimmer into existence, her sisters ruffling through them all until they find one of the finest silk known to man, glistening gold like the ichor in their veins. Rhea only sighs.
The same nimble fingers wrap her hair into a braided chignon as Phoebe drones on about the ceremonial proceedings, Theia adding in her own advice here and there. Rhea listens to none of it, becoming despondent at the sight of her bound tresses: only free maidens can loosen their hair to the wind, not a care in the world.
She cannot help but mourn. We aren't married yet and I hate him already.
The clicking and shutting of a wooden box snaps her back into the present moment.
"This is for you," Phoebe says matter-of-fact, revealing a golden diadem inlaid with sparkling emeralds.
She eyes it warily. "Looks heavy," Rhea murmurs.
"Get used to it." Theia retorts. "By the time Kronos pronounces you queen consort, he shall have a dozen more fashioned for you, each one heavier than the last."
"A dozen," Phoebe snorts. "More like a hundred."
Meant from experience, of course. Rhea had been a young girl at the time of Theia's wedding to Hyperion several decades ago and she remembers it still. There had been no shortage of jewels to attract Theia's attention.
Rhea sighs again, not that Phoebe or Theia notice. They're too busy rounding up the nymphs and shooing them from her quarters. She doesn't realize how much a reprieve the silence offers her until the toilsome beings are gone.
Her eyes sharpen. Rhea studies her new appearance in the polished bronze mirror at her side, poking and prodding at her bound hair. "Kronos scares you," she murmurs, giving voice to a thought that's been on her mind all day.
For a moment, they both seem to freeze in place and Rhea wishes they could stay that way. Her sisters stare at each other, sharing a wordless conversation between the two of them, not that she is surprised.
"Of course, he does. And, if you were smart, he would scare you too," Theia retorts. "You can never forget what he is, what he's done. Never."
Rhea stiffens. She can still see it clear as day, wishing it had all been nothing but a dream. Perhaps Kronos would have taken her that day in the grass, bloodlust driving him like a rabid animal. Instead, he had dragged her and all of their siblings to the sea. The details of that moment she would not forget: the ichor on her brother's tunic, her father's cock being thrown into the ocean for the fish to feast on, her mother's evil and hungry gaze. Then they had crowned him king, resting Ouranos's crown of stars upon his brow.
"I haven't," Rhea whispers as if Kronos can hear them now. "I swore to myself I wouldn't."
Phoebe shudders, as if also drowning in the icy flood of memories. "You said yes to his proposal."
"Was there any other option besides yes?" Her fists clenched. "I could only stall his proposal for so long. Gaia promised me to him and I know he is not as patient as he claims."
"Still, the choice is always there," her eldest sister frowns. Strong-will and unconventional disregard must run deep in their generation. "And we had hoped—"
"I know, Phoebe." She had hoped Kronos would have lost interest. Rhea had hoped for much of the same. "It matters no longer. If he wants me to be his queen then I will be his queen."
And perhaps it won't be such torture. In a way, she is free of Gaia's seclusion from the rest of the world, free to forge her own path despite what Fate – or Kronos – might have in store.
For once, Theia has remained quiet throughout. When she speaks it is hardly a whisper. "Do you love him?"
It's a question Rhea has asked herself for days on end. Though in truth, she cannot be sure what love is supposed to look like, what it means. Her example stems from Ouranos and Gaia alone and Rhea is acutely aware of how their union had ended.
The answer to Theia's question eludes her. At least her sister, full of mercy, does not press; love is irrelevant when it comes to their marriages, a convenience only.
"But it's clear he loves you more," Phoebe muses at last, notes of finality signaling the end of that conversation.
"He loves a pretty face," Rhea snorts. Nothing more. He cannot see the Celestial Bronze underneath, the hardness in her veins given to all the sons and daughters of Gaia and Ouranos. But if she must play the role of a blushing bride, so be it.
Waves the size of mountains crash against the cliff face and the ground quakes beneath her feet. Rhea stands firm, a beacon of gold in her wedding dress stark against the starless night. Wisps of hair have already unraveled free from her braided chignon – perhaps a foreshadowing of how she too is ready to come undone.
"Are you a fan of the sea?"
She glances behind at the young girl standing in her shadow. "It has a certain beauty to it, I suppose. For those enamored by the untamable," Rhea muses. The girl approaches, tucking a lock of dark hair behind her ear. "I'm sorry, I do not believe we have met before."
The girl bows deeply. "I am Metis, daughter of Oceanus and Tethys. I am here on their behalf. It is a great honor to attend this special occasion, my lady."
"The pleasure is mine, Metis," Rhea says rather clumsily. She half-wonders if it will always be like this when she becomes queen. "Your mother and father are not here."
She hesitates. "There were…matters."
Their eyes lock. "They did not want to come."
Metis takes a step back to survey her with stormy gray eyes. "You do not know of the conflict."
She shakes her head. "War? Between Kronos and Oceanus?"
"Skirmishes leading to a stalemate," Metis dismisses, though Rhea cannot tell if it is out of courtesy. "My father is conservative in his wisdom. He did not wish to incur the wrath of Ouranos by joining the rebellion and this did not settle well with your betrothed. He insulted my father by throwing the Sky God's manhood into our oceans, proclaiming us enemies. He has denied me and my brothers and sisters Titanhood – none of us are allowed to enter Othrys or marry outside of Oceanus's domain."
The girl's even tone gives rise to Rhea's curiosity. "Yet you are here as his emissary."
"Kronos extended the invitation," Metis smirks. "Perhaps he realizes just how new his kingdom is. He does not want war – not yet. There are pleasantries that must be upheld. For the most part."
A glimmer of the wily mind behind the easy smile finally puts the Titaness at ease, even as she says, "With relationships so fragile, your father would risk your safety?"
The girl shrugs. "There are a hundred Oceanids, my lady. My father knows this and so does Kronos. What happens to me is of no consequence, for better or worse."
Rhea nods, accepting the matter. She knows there is little she can do to change the state of things, but what she can change… "I will ensure your safety while you are here, Metis."
For a moment, Metis looks taken aback. "That is very kind of you, my lady."
"Very kind indeed," another voice says from behind. They both turn their heads. "She will be a wonderful queen."
Metis bows immediately.
Rhea's expression sours. "Mother."
"Your betrothed has arrived." She glides forward, patting Metis's head. "You best join the others, young one."
The girl says not another word, nodding quickly and dashing out of sight.
Rhea does not miss the spring in her mother's steps. Gaia places a hand on Rhea's shoulder. "I knew eventually you would see reason."
She bristles. "I do this not for you—"
"I know that very well. You're nearly as stubborn as I am." She smirks, the glint in her eyes hinting at a fondness Rhea can't quite place. "Come. Let us put past enmities aside for the time being. This is a momentous occasion that I have not adequately prepared you for."
"An understatement," Rhea retorts.
Gaia's mirth remains unwavering. "Fear not, dear one. I will help you through this night."
They say nothing as they rejoin the gathered Titans. What stuns her into this silence, Rhea cannot say. Whether she truly has nothing to say to her mother beyond indignant screaming or she is reluctant to ruin the sanctity of the moments to come. To be declared wife to the immortal she finds basking in the light of the full moon upon the highest point of the cliff-face.
Kronos.
Gaia's grip on her arm tightens. Rhea can help but stiffen – though that is perhaps to her mother's approval.
Over the years, the Titan Lord has shown her many faces: the arrogant prince, the brutal warrior never to be deterred, the dreamer guided by purpose and Destiny. But the face he shows her now is the same one she saw on the Phrygian plains beneath the starry night after he'd told the story of how a boy shattered into a million pieces rose up a man. Utterly vulnerable.
Rhea raises an eyebrow. Afraid I will take to the wind again?
His eyes narrow in good humor, as if hearing every word. Though it is Atlas's booming voice that stops a smile from rippling across her betrothed's face.
"Here stands your king, Kronos, Crooked One," the young Titan proclaims, parting through the fray to bore his dark eyes straight in Rhea's direction. "He who freed the world from bondage. He who slew the Tyrant. The youngest child of Earth and Sky, Lord of Creation, Master of Time. Who has sought him out?"
"I, Rhea…" Her words trail off, at a loss. Gaia's presence steadies her once again. "Child of Earth and Sky, maiden of the Phrygian plains. I am to be his wife."
"Approach," Kronos murmurs.
Rhea, naturally, hesitates. In the face of her reluctance, her mother leads her towards the edge of the cliff, towards Kronos's waiting hand.
Their fingers touch.
Her heart thunders in her chest.
Gaia snaps and the grass at their feet erupts into flames, trapping the two of them within a circle.
"Breathe," Kronos whispers. Rhea's eyes snap towards him. She releases a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding. She finds his thumb tracing lightly over her own. "It will be over soon."
That the Titaness knows very well. And my life will never be the same.
In Gaia's hands, a bronze knife appears in existence. She runs a finger over the sharpened edge. "Titans," she murmurs and the immortals surrounding them stand at attention. "Tonight, we pay witness to the unification of two souls. Two life-threads intertwining."
She presents Kronos with the knife, an eyebrow lifting, "Shall we see what Fate has in store for them?" Whispers of yes are hardly heard over the raging sea.
With a flash of bronze, Kronos splits open his palm with the blade before ushering it towards Rhea. She takes it gingerly, realizing how small her hands are in comparison to his. She appraises the knife, feeling like a child still, before drawing it against her hand. A hiss escapes from between gritted teeth. The knife slips from her bloodied fingers.
Kronos presses his dripping hand against hers. Rhea winces. Together, they watch their ichor ebb and mix. A shimmering droplet plunges into the flames. Followed by another. And then another. In their wake, a faint silver smoke rises up.
Gaia steps closer to inhale it. Then the convulsions begin.
Many times, Rhea has witnessed the oracle taking root inside of Gaia. Though her curling stomach proves that her unease has not settled with time.
The earth goddess digs her nails into the palm of her hand, drawing forth streams of ichor. All Rhea can hear is the grinding of Gaia's teeth before her eyes snap open, the convulsions ceasing with frightening speed.
"Children."
The familiar voice causes a ripple through the crowd as the Titans realize Gaia is not the one who stares back.
Kronos whips out his hand and his scythe materializes from thin air. "You," he seethes.
"Wait!" Without thinking, Rhea grabs his wrist. Their father's breathy laugh echoes from Gaia's own mouth. "This is not Ouranos. This is mother still."
"No, by all means, child," says the intruder. "Strike down Gaia in your anger. It is no less than she deserves."
"I killed you." Kronos spits at Gaia's feet. "Seems you cannot tell when you are not wanted, Ouranos."
Ouranos leers at them still with that sharp, toothy smile. "You never listened, did you? You never bothered to think upon the words I left you with."
The Titan Lord bristles. "The words of a dying man are of no consequence to me."
"Do you think you are immune to curses? Shall I make it clear for your new wife?"
His fists clench. "Gaia…"
"Gaia is not here, Crooked One. But even she has known all this time, from the very first moment she whispered of rebellion," he retorts. "My children rose up to depose me, as I always knew they would. So then shall you suffer the same Fate."
Rhea holds her head high. "You cannot frighten us, Father. You are nothing."
Appraising Rhea through Gaia's face, her skin still crawls beneath Ouranos's gaze. She has not forgotten their first meeting all those years ago. "Remember, sweet Rhea. Those who stood by him are doomed to fall with him."
Kronos touches her shoulder. "Don't listen to him. He lies."
"Do I?" He laughs, and laughs, and laughs. Until his voice turns light and airy, fading like the wind.
The blue light that filled Gaia's eyes fades as well until she holds oh so very still. Rhea can sense the fatigue creeping up on her mother, but Gaia does not collapse. She waits.
All of them do.
For Kronos.
Stone-faced, his golden eyes bore into Rhea's in a silent message that she cannot read. Not now when her nerves are so frayed.
He turns to the gathered Titans instead, a dark smile gracing his features.
"Look at you all," he scoffs. "Shivering like leaves in the wind. Ouranos is no master of Fate and yet he has led you all to believe it. I am not one to let the curses of a dead god frighten me."
Jaws clench in unison. Titan-spawn as weak? Unheard of.
"Our brother is right," Iapetus affirms. "We slew Ouranos so he could rule us no longer. No empty curse can change that."
Kronos bows his head in thanks. "Let fear of Ouranos die with him."
"And may Chaos swallow his soul!" Hyperion intones, a chant quickly repeated by all of them.
Gaia nods in gentle approval but looks to Rhea now as she speaks. "Tonight, our lord has proven himself worthy of a wife. And in more ways than one."
Again, the Titans cheer, the memory of Ouranos once again forgotten. Rhea steels herself: she too is Titan-spawn, queen now. Let fear of Ouranos die with him.
"But," Gaia continues, her eyes narrowing, "as old customs dictate, if you want a bride, you must catch her."
"What?" Rhea has enough time to utter before her sisters descend upon her like vultures. They pull her away from Kronos's side, giggling and squealing.
Her eyes never leave her mother's face.
Gaia steps towards her, resting a hand on Rhea's cheek. "It's time to run, my little lion. I suggest you discard those heavy jewels 'less they slow you down."
"Mother, you can't be ser—"
Gaia grins, snatching the weighty medallion from her chest. "Have fun, Rhea. Remember that there is still a palace to trek to. Don't make the chase too hard on him."
She disappears into the fray and Theia comes to take her place. "Run far and run fast, sister. Try to look just a little terrified. Otherwise, we'll all just have to assume you gave into Kronos's advances long before this night."
Phoebe pushes her down the slope.
Rhea doesn't recall telling her feet to move – she has hardly thought about anything after Ouranos's intrusion and this surprise has not exactly bettered her trail of thought – only that gravity works in mysterious ways and she somehow finds her way through a set of wooded hills.
From there, instincts take over.
If you want a bride, you must catch her.
She has never been preyed upon before, and in a way, she finds it exhilarating. Rhea stamps her feet into the ground, propelling her body forward. She discards the himation across her shoulders, letting it float behind her off into the windy night.
And, allowing herself to listen closer, Rhea swears she can hear a thunderous pursuit. A peal of laughter escapes her. She runs faster.
The elevation plateaus and the trees thin. She hears the roaring river before she can see it. With no more than a thought, Rhea could scale it in one leap, continuing on her trek. Only her mother's words and a sudden, invisible grip keep her from doing so.
Like wading through mercury, Rhea turns around slowly, unsurprised to come face-to-face with the panting Kronos.
"I didn't think my bride would give me such chase." Rhea does not fail to miss the playful twinkle in his eyes.
"Cheater," she hisses, surprised at how feral she sounds. Not afraid, as any sane person would be given that she has never seen his abilities in action before. "If you want a bride you must catch her."
The invisible hold fades but his humor does not. "Apologies. Now that you are in arms reach it seems I am hesitant to let you go."
Rhea flashes him a wanton smirk, taking a step forward. "Then you're a bigger fool than I first took you for."
For one step forward, Kronos makes her take at least three back as he pins her against the nearest tree trunk. She doesn't miss the nimble fingers grazing at her hips. "What am I to do with such a quick-witted wife?"
Her eyes narrow. She leans further into him, brushing her lips against his own. "Why, you would do best to silence her, my lord."
Kronos needs no further goading. He captures her mouth in a kiss that steals her breath away and she can't find it in her heart to protest. Not when she finds the same heart beating wildly beneath her ribs, reminiscent of that other night they once shared together. Though a passion long kept under lock and key, Rhea now sets it free. If Kronos is surprised by the ferocity in which Rhea kisses him back, he does not let on.
Never one to keep his hands to himself, they roam without restraint. Deft fingers slip beneath the hem of her dress and find their way to shaking thighs.
"You're so cold," he murmurs against her lips. "We should fix that."
Rhea doesn't have time to respond. He cups her ass, squeezing hard enough to lift her up. She squeals.
Her husband seems all too pleased with himself and takes to undoing the laces of her dress. More kisses trail down her neck and, true and said, she finds a nauseating heat rising from her stomach.
Kronos strips her bare – in more ways than one. The stroke of confidence she felt at the beginning of this courtship quickly fades. Rhea shudders as she pushes him away finally, the blush in her cheeks all-consuming. The shy maiden within rises once more. "There is a palace we must trek back to, husband."
"No," he growls, sending a thrum of pleasure down her spine. "I will take you here where the moon shines. Where the world will see that you are mine."
Rhea pauses. She cannot say why such a thing sounds so appealing. Even under the weight of a crown, perhaps her heart still belongs to the wilderness and such a proposition still allows it to sing.
She gives him a simple nod.
Kronos captures her lips again. His hands drop to her hips, prying pins loose from the fabric of her dress. Bunched at her waist, it is not long until he allows it to fall to the ground forgotten.
He pulls away breathing heavily, resting his forehead against her own. "Tell me what you're thinking," Kronos whispers.
The back of her hand brushes the pulsing vein in his neck. Perhaps, beneath the moonlight, he is just as flushed as she is. "I'm thinking about how I want you to touch me."
Kronos chuckles deep in his chest, providing ample kindling for the fire erupting in her belly. "We could always start here." His hand presses firm against the inside of her thigh. Rhea shudders. "Do let me know when I'm close."
But Rhea already knows her help is unnecessary. His phantom fingers climb higher, seeking warmth.
"There," she moans still, and he obliges, rubbing in slow, torturous circles that might just cause her to combust. The ache between her legs has never been so unbearable. She rocks against his hand, eager for a release. Much like a wave building on the tide, ready to come crashing against the shore.
For a moment, she's so preoccupied with Kronos's ministrations she almost misses a chill on the back of her neck. A sure sign of them being watched.
"Stop." Her arms snap back to cover her breasts from view. "They're here."
Kronos withdraws though his gaze hardly strays from hers. He feels it too – the eyes scrutinizing their every move. "It seems they've come to watch."
That isn't to her surprise. The Titans are entitled to a consummation ceremony of the newlyweds, though Rhea sincerely doubts they had planned to watch from the middle of the woods.
A slow smile breaks across his face and, with his pupils blown wide, he looks positively feline. "Do we plan to give them a show?"
I will take you here where the moon shines. Where the world will see that you are mine. A literal declaration then. For the hundredth time this night, she blushes and says nothing.
"They aren't really here. It is only us still." Kronos pauses for a moment, drinking her in. "You don't have to hide from me."
"Don't I?" Rhea quips, a frown forming on her lips. "If you have me wet and willing or screaming and with my face in the dirt, it matters not. The outcome is the same."
His brows furrow. "It isn't. I would have never waited for you to say yes if that were the case."
If only Rhea can make him see that that had never been a real choice. At the end of the day, those who have been told their fate become slaves to it. This marriage was inevitable and she can no longer delude herself into thinking otherwise.
But a choice has been laid out in front of her. She can say no to him now, redress and make the trip back to Mount Othrys with the rest of the Titans in toe. Though from then on, she will no longer be allowed to run free through the plains. As queen, her allegiance is to Kronos and his vision of a world order, her wants now nonexistent.
Or she can be true to herself just this once, however brief. She can show him and the rest what sort of metal their new queen is made of.
Rhea lowers her arms and reaches out to rip away the gilded belt resting on his hips. Kronos doesn't touch her, only watches as the tunic falls. His erection now revealed, her face burns hotter than Hyperion's armor. But she refuses to look anywhere else but his eyes, where she finds his mischievous glint has returned.
"If you're expecting me to ogle you, think again. I have more pride than any wayward nymph you've come across," Rhea tells him, though she takes in the cut of his body in her peripheral vision. For a moment, she can understand Ouranos's obsession with perfection given all that their father created.
"I expect nothing," Kronos lies, finally taking her into his arms once more.
He lays her down upon the forest floor like a ripe sacrifice for the cruel gods that came before them. She takes in the dirt beneath her skin, the leaves caressing her hands, and how right it feels to be close to their mother's embrace rather than a palace piercing the ether…
Yet fear flashes in her eyes. It doesn't escape Kronos's note and she knows what he must be thinking: The maiden of the Phrygian plains, a true maiden after all.
The next kiss on her lips is the sweetest of them all. Rhea glares nevertheless; she is not a hapless babe and if he intends to treat her as such then her first act as queen will be to hurl him off of Mount Othrys.
Kronos only smiles, brushing his knuckles against her cheek. Her expression softens beneath his touch. No matter how brash and arrogant her husband can be, at least she has the privilege of seeing this side of him, especially on tonight of all nights.
With little ceremony to be had, he nestles himself between her thighs. His erection gathered in one hand, he guides himself to her entrance.
Her quivering fingers trace the scars on his chest. The first time I ever laid eyes on you was from atop that throne. If it were the only way to see, I would gladly climb and fall again and again.
Kronos slips inside of her a moment later with a gasp on his lips. His lashes flutter, his breaths barely restrained.
She watches him in silence, focusing on her body to remain still yet pliant. Her face pinches the deeper he goes until Rhea can no longer take it. "Wait," she whispers finally.
Kronos freezes, eyes wide and probing her expression. "What is it? What's wrong?"
She struggles to say something, anything… but, in this moment, Rhea finds it easier to show him.
Without warning, her hands push against his chest. In his shock, Kronos moves far more readily than she anticipated and Rhea presses her advantage, a lioness making her kill. Though with Kronos, there is hardly a struggle. She traps his waist between her thighs, pinning his arms beneath her.
Rhea senses the whole world inhaling, holding its breath. Not even a day as a wife and she has already broken her first law, though her husband makes no move to reprimand her. Kronos's mouth hangs open but no words come forth. She takes that opportunity to stroke the hardness brushing against her thigh and he shudders.
"It matters not what women you have been with before," Rhea declares before him. "I am not them."
He closes his eyes, voice straggled, "No, you are not." She has proven that well enough.
She persists still. "I am your queen."
When Rhea takes him between her legs again, she is the catalyst, the one who leads. Their union still brings her discomfort but the Titaness forces herself to take it in stride this time. I am the blood of Earth and Sky. She has felt pain before, the kind that scars the soul. Tearing apart her maidenhood is nothing in comparison.
Rhea smells Gaia's approval in the air. This time she does not feel fear or apprehension. She only feels power.
"You are my queen," Kronos answers finally, still straining to hold onto some shred of control. When their eyes lock, Rhea swears she sees only reverence.
She pushes herself to the hilt, smothering the cry threatening to escape her lips. "You are mine." The words remain heavy on her tongue as if uttering a spell.
"I am yours," Kronos agrees readily. His hands grab onto her waist, sending little shocks firing up and down her spine. He leans forward and Rhea finds his lips a breath away from her own. "Completely and utterly yours."
As he thrusts into her, causing Rhea to elicit a groan she didn't think herself capable of, she prays it isn't a lie. But to the dozens of eyes boring holes into her back, Rhea can only smile.