The days of bliss blur together. Perhaps it is too easy when most of those first few days are spent in their new chambers the moment they cross into the palace's threshold.
Day and night, Rhea explores him anew, eager to chip away at his rough exterior and uncover the same vulnerability she glimpsed beneath the stars. In return, Rhea thinks he steals a part of her soul every time she lies with him, for he has seen parts of Rhea that she has shown to no one else before nor will she show ever again.
The novelty of sex, however, can only last so long. Especially when there are unbidden questions that come to mind, desperate to be answered.
"Do you think what Ouranos said was true?"
Even the candles dim at the mention of his name, a lingering curse they can never shake even in their thickest haze.
The question draws out Kronos's head nestled in the crook of her neck. He shoots her a glance somewhere between mildly amused and wary. "Father, even in death, enjoys bluffing." His arms around her waist tighten. "You should know that better than anyone. His many threats to throw the lot of us into Tartarus were boundless and yet here we all are."
She only sighs, pressing closer against him. Rhea has spent so long with Kronos now, the two of them intertwined, that she can hardly imagine a time when they were apart.
"He doesn't deserve your attention, love," he whispers against her jaw, teeth aching to scrape against her skin, devour her whole. "You are my queen now. Banish all thoughts of him."
The Titaness grins, murmuring something along the lines of, "I like the sound of that."
I am your queen. She declared as much to the entire pantheon – to the entire world – and he had wholeheartedly agreed. Green eyes meet gold. "You never did tell me what made you say yes."
Her heart nearly stops. "That depends." Rhea lifts her head, balancing it on a propped elbow. "Do you want the truth?" Because that is the one thing I cannot give you.
He pauses, perhaps reading the indecision carefully hidden behind her nonchalant mask. "With all the times I was rebuffed, I doubt you could bruise my ego anymore."
Half-truths it is then. "Then I'm not sure."
As she expected, Kronos groans in indignation. "Come now, Rhea…"
"You speak of Fate, which I can only fight against for so long if it is true," she retorts as a quick excuse, her mind whirling. "And then there's you, so stubborn once your mind is set. I would have an easier time herding lions across the ocean." Rhea smiles lazily. "Perhaps I was tired?"
"Tired of me?" Kronos probes. "Gaia? The idyllic life of a peculiar shepherd?"
"Maybe," Rhea answers with little clarification.
"You are insufferable."
Her eyes narrow in amusement. "And sadly, you are stuck with me forever. If I were king of the cosmos, I would have done more vetting."
She purses her lips though, knowing half-truths and vague words will do nothing to placate his curiosity, wily being that he is and always will be. Rhea searches her mercurial heart to the best of her ability in search of an answer that would satisfy him.
When Rhea does, she grows somber at the thought. "Theia, Phoebe, they would visit mother often."
He snorts. "A flock of hens."
"Yes. Wherever they go, their brood follows." The bitterness in her voice hasn't been conjured for his sake. "Their children are… so innocent and lovely. Their marriages are far from perfect – Koios and Hyperion are not easy men to love – but they've found happiness in the life that they've created. They… I would be a liar if I said that I didn't envy them from time to time."
For a long moment, Kronos does not speak. "And that is why you think of Ouranos." His jaw tightens. "His words frighten you."
"Do they not frighten you?"
His gaze softens. "We have each other, Rhea. If Ouranos had his way, I would have been cast out by the other Titans – driven to madness by the isolation. But he was wrong. I am at the brink of ushering a new world order with you at my side." A blush rises to her cheeks – she still has not given full thought to the weight of her new title. "I say let the fear of Ouranos die with him. Let us start our new life free of his shadow."
Her resulting smile is bittersweet. "With that silver tongue of yours, you could make Chaos seem as small and insignificant as a blade of grass."
"But a silver tongue will not wipe away your worries completely," he sighs. "Only trust can do that, which takes time."
Perhaps he is not entirely ignorant. "Time. Everything is always a matter of time with you." She smirks. "How depressing."
"Should I tell you of lighter things then?"
Rhea almost sighs in relief, grateful for the change in subject. "Depending on what they are."
"I asked a favor from the Cyclopes building our palace. We will spend most of our time on Mount Othrys and godsforbid we keep a wild beast from its natural habitat." Rhea climbs off their bed but she is careful not to let her stare break away from his. "A sanctuary is being constructed for your eyes only, should you ever wish to return to your days of frolicking and flower picking."
Rhea bites her lip, trying to keep herself from grinning. "And there's a pond?"
"The exact same one," he muses. "They will get the details just right."
"Will they?" She lifts herself from the bed, knowing he doesn't miss the spring in her step. "What kind of flowers?"
Kronos raises an eyebrow. "If I told you it would spoil the surprise."
"Another way to say, I don't know?" Rhea pours herself another goblet of nectar.
Kronos naturally gravitates towards her with an impish grin that reflects his age: too young, younger than Rhea herself.
She takes a sip and Kronos takes his chance, pressing his fingers to the bottom of the chalice and tilting it up. Rhea flinches when the nectar flows past her lips and down her chin. Her hand covers her mouth immediately and they both stare at the drops that hit her bare chest.
"Bastard." She wipes the golden liquid from her lips.
Kronos gathers her in his arms, unable to hide his amusement. Experimentally, he kisses the valley between her breasts. The nectar smears.
Rhea only sighs. All thoughts of Ouranos, curses, and Fate quickly drift off into the abyss, forgotten. She straddles his waist, holding him close as Kronos's hands once again find their way to her thighs. Around them, between them.
He smiles again, devious as always.
When she was a child, Rhea feared the dark. The creatures who roam in it – Erebus, Nyx… Tartarus – were never friends to the progeny of Earth and Sky, born in a time where Chaos ruled supreme.
Her first time on Othrys, now queen of the cosmos, the dark is apparent. But given she had spent most of her life thus far on the Phrygian plains, of course any grand enclosure might seem little more than a tomb.
Rhea hardens herself against such longing. This is her home now and she must make do. But with this realization comes another, in which dark places need not be cold or frightening. Sometimes – with effort, of course – she can think back to the times she was but a sentient candle burning bright in her mother's womb. The warmth that nurtured her, kept her safe, prepared her for a life as Fate's puppet.
We need fire, she tells Kronos, and as always, he obeys.
She plants her hearth in the center of the sprawling complex, carefully positioned far away from the dreaded throne room meant to be imposing to his enemy's emissaries. His domain, she calls it, while hers is far more welcoming.
"GET OUT!"
The mountain quakes beneath his roar but she has long learned to ignore Kronos's explosive bouts of rage.
She prods at the flames of her budding hearth, casting a glare at young Metis in the corner who seems a hair away from chewing off her nails. "Quickly now. Before he gets away."
The girl flees the room and Rhea reclines on her makeshift throne – little more than elegant cushions and a far cry from her imposing onyx beast resting in the throne room.
It is not long before she hears padding footsteps and frantic hushed whispers. Metis and man at her side bow once coming into her view.
Rhea sits up a little straighter. "Brother Nereus. It is so good to see you." Metis takes a seat on the floor by her side. "You do not intend to leave so soon, do you?"
The Primordial snaps back up, his spine as rigid as tree bark. Sea blue eyes are filled to the brim with stormy rage. "Your husband has insulted me for the last time—"
"But you do me ill if you mean to leave without joining me for dinner." She flashes a dazzling smile. "You wouldn't offend the queen of Mount Othrys in such a way, would you?"
Where Kronos is fire, so quick to anger, she is the soothing balm for the burn – calm and collected. But it is a mistake to think that their traits have not rubbed off on one another.
He hesitates. "Kronos—"
"Will never change his ways," Rhea interjects. "A bull can never become a butterfly, you understand?"
Her half-brother nods reluctantly. If anything, Gaia's stubborn nature has certainly rubbed off on him.
She smoothes out the wrinkles in her skirt. "I want my children to grow up in a world where they will be safe, brother. That cannot be so if land and sea are at each other's throats. For their sake, tell me what it will take to have this ceasefire enacted?"
Nereus raises an eyebrow. She watches as he notes the hearth in between them. He takes a precarious step forward, still so stiff despite the rumors Rhea had heard of sea deities being so lax. "Is it proper to do business with the likes of—?"
Her impatience cuts like a newly sharpened sword. "Metis, a summary?"
"Disputes over territory, my lady." She places a hand on the queen's knee. "Lord Oceanus has undisputable control of the waters encircling our territory, as was his birthright following Pontus's abdication. However, the inland waters have not yet been spoken for."
Rhea attempts to hide her snort. "Oceanus and my husband fight over creeks and streams?"
"It is those very creeks and streams that fuel the agriculture your worshippers depend on, my lady." Nereus's eyes narrow. "It would be best not to overlook them."
She tilts her head towards him. "Forgive me, brother. You are right."
"Kronos requests dominion over the water spirits since they are in his territory," Metis continues. "Many of them, however, are sons and daughters of Oceanus and would rather owe loyalty to their father."
"And what would be your suggestion for a resolution?"
"As I was explaining to your husband—"
A hiss from her lips stops him short. "My question was directed to Metis, my lord." Her lips purse. Forgive me," Rhea adds, though the words ring hollow.
A bead of sweat erupts about Metis's eyebrow. "I have no right to preside on such matters, lady."
The insolent Nereus continues, much to Rhea's chagrin. "The girl is correct. These are the affairs of men—"
"Are you not a daughter of Oceanus?" the queen snaps.
"Yes."
"And are we not deciding the fates of your brothers and sisters?" A moment of quiet ensues before Rhea presses on once more. "Then if you were put into this position, caught between the world of your father and the world of your rightful king, what would you do?"
The silver eyes of Metis flicker back and forth between Rhea and Nereus. For a moment, the old sea god relaxes, perhaps thinking his point made. Until the girl blurts out, "Pay tribute."
He looks to her, incredulous. "Excuse me?"
"The laws of the universe dictate that we must respect our fathers in all things. To disrupt such a bond is to tempt fate and welcome disorder. Thus, the progeny of Oceanus should remain under his dominion. In this, I agree with you, uncle." Rhea places a hand over her own. "However, with our territory being split between the two brothers, we have no right to Kronos's territory unless we show him the respect he is owed as the lord of these lands. The Oceanids and the Potamoi should bestow a necessary tribute, to be decided by Kronos and collected by his four Titan brothers, in order to preserve the terms of ceasefire."
Rhea gives Metis's fingers a gentle squeeze, hoping it will convey just how proud she is of her in this moment. "Nereus," she says, "will our brother agree to these terms?"
His lips fix into a thin line. "Will Kronos?"
She snorts. "I make no promises but a wife knows the ways in which her husband can be persuaded." Rhea ignores the color that rises to their cheeks. "Will you take these terms to Oceanus?"
He grimaces. "Yes, my lady. Though I cannot say if he will agree to them."
"That is as much as I can hope for at this moment in time." Rhea closes her eyes briefly. "Thank you, Nereus. Will you be staying with us this night?"
The god drops into another bow, still stiffer than the last. "No, my lady. I think it best to take my leave."
"Fine," Rhea dismisses, "so long as you do your job and leave me to mine."
She watches Nereus go. A heartbeat later, Metis rises from the floor to follow him out the door. Rhea's voice stops her. "Metis."
The girl slips a fearful glance over her shoulder. "Yes, my lady?"
"I enjoy having you as a handmaiden but it has come to my attention you are ill-suited for the task."
She falls to her knees, palms splayed across the floor. "My lady, I am sorry if I offe—"
"From now on, you will be my personal advisor, to help me in these matters when they arise."
The girl blinks for several moments, as if unable to comprehend at first. "You are too kind, Lady Rhea. Truly."
She tilts her head in thanks. "See that Nereus finds his way out. I will take care of Kronos personally."
An hour into the thermae, Kronos finally comes to her, slamming the door behind him. He finds Rhea with her head resting against her arms, while the rest of her body remains submerged beneath the temperate bathwater.
Lazily, she cracks open an eye. "Rough day?"
He snorts. "Let us not talk of kingly affairs." He slips out of his tunic, though without taking his eyes off her. "You are the one thing that has been on my mind all day."
She chuckles, watching him approach the water's edge. "I do more than wait for you to bed me in the night, fool. You do realize that?"
"Yes, of course," Kronos mocks. He sinks into the waters with a content hiss upon his lips.
Still, Rhea keeps her distance, studying him with earnest intent. "I heard of your troubles with Nereus."
As expected, his loving façade drops. "You spoke with him?" He scowls. "Why?"
"You aren't subtle when your yell can be heard from across the mountain, love." She smirks, finally padding over to him and wrapping her arms around his waist. "But yes, I did."
"And what did the slimy bastard say?" Her fingers brush against his clenched jaw. "Did he speak of more ways to cheat me?"
"He hardly spoke," she muses.
For once he does not soften under her touch, though she refuses to let it unnerve her. "Ah, so your leaden tongue is just as quick with other men, I take it?"
Rhea scoffs. "Are you jealous?"
Kronos traces the ridge of her collarbone. "Do I have cause to be?"
She rolls her eyes. "Metis was with me and thank Chaos for that. She came up with a brilliant solution I think you would find agreeable."
His suspicion eases. "Go on…"
A peal of laughter escapes her lips. "How would you like to become richer?"
His hands cup her face. A smile tugs at the corner of his lips – just the opening she had pressed for. "You certainly have a way of catching my attention, little lion."
"Let the Oceanids and Potamoi declare for their father." Anger flashes across his face, but Rhea continues anyway, so use to his mercurial moods. "So that when you tax them, there will be no hard feelings."
Kronos considers her for a moment. "What could insignificant water spirits offer me?"
"Even you are aware of the riches to be found in streams and lakes, dearest one." She dares a peck on his lips. "You need only request it in return, should they wish to avoid your infamous wrath."
He breaks apart from her, shaking his head slowly as if to clear it. Kronos climbs out of the water, sitting on the pool's ledge. "And let Oceanus win?" he grumbles.
Rhea purses her lips. She stands to her full height, treading water to reach him. "You are king of Earth and Sky." His half-hidden erection doesn't escape her note, bringing a smirk to Rhea's face instead. "While Oceanus is but another ruler of the sea." Her hand comes to rest against his knee. She finds it easy to part his legs and nestle herself between them. "You need not antagonize each other further. Time to leave him forgotten in the depths where he belongs."
"Sweet Rhea with her sweet words." Kronos scoffs, though it has since lost any sense of derision. He broods for a moment – so characteristic of this Titan Lord – as he lays thoughtful strokes against Rhea's shoulder. "I should thank that girl of yours. She was certainly a worthy investment."
"I already did. A promotion." Rhea dares another kiss, this time on the top of his thigh. "Now let me thank you. For agreeing to this scheme."
She expects him to sneer, to tell her that he hasn't agreed to anything. Instead, Kronos brushes his fingers through her hair. "What did I do to deserve such a beautiful yet devious woman?"
As lady of Mount Othrys, when the ceasefire is ratified, she is the one who makes plans for a grand celebration. Though, true to her word, she finds it an impossible feat without Metis. The Oceanid marches across Othrys with a general's authority, barking orders to her army of nymphs in order to ensure all proper preparations are in place. Braziers lit. Tables set. Floors polished. And Rhea beams at Metis throughout it all, much like a proud mother.
When the Titans gather, Rhea greets them in a gown that shimmers as blue as the Mediterranean. Metis herself had strung pearls through the Titaness's hair as a small taste for what their future will hold.
By the time she finds her sisters in the fray of partygoers, Theia and Phoebe have decimated the stores of fermented nectar. As if nothing has changed, they encourage Rhea to drink her own fill as well before bombarding her with details of their sexual escapades. Rhea blushes throughout all of it. And Theia, whose head often floats among the clouds, stares at the queen with her undivided attention. "Marriage suits you," she smiles, always with a gaze that suggests she knows more than she lets on.
But before the Titaness can press her sister further, they're swept into a larger group with Themis, Mmnesyone, and other minor Titans.
They drink to her husband's success with Oceanus. Though it was her meddling that cemented peace, Rhea knows very well that the role of queen will always be a thankless one and such a conversation does not bother her as much as she thought it would. For her success is Kronos's success and vice versa.
This is what it means to be a married woman.
True to fashion, Kronos enters the chamber to cheering and thunderous applause. His gaze cuts through the crowd to find Rhea. She smiles coyly, taking another sip of nectar.
Hyperion passes the Titan Lord his own goblet. "To Kronos!"
The Titans thrust their cups into the air. "To Kronos!"
Always his herald, Atlas prattles off the titles Rhea once heard at her wedding. Crooked One. 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.
Now peacemaker.
"I have ushered in a Golden Age, brethren," Kronos muses, clapping his brothers on their backs. "But it would be unjust for me to take all the credit. Instead, we toast to our queen, nearest and dearest to my heart."
She can hardly believe his words, now drowned out by another round of applause. From across the room, their eyes lock, and Kronos raises his goblet in her direction. In this moment, Rhea swears she feels true happiness.
Though this moment pales in comparison to the fluttering inside her belly.
The special light overwhelms her as a single spark that soon multiplies into a dozen. Then a hundred. And then a thousand. Something so strange, so beautiful – Rhea knows what this is before even Gaia, goddess of the oracle and every prophecy whispered from the deep cracks in the earth, can tell her.
"I will be a mother soon," she whispers to her own mother – the first person she tells – in a sacred grove just outside the shadow of Mount Othrys. Even such words can hardly contain her awe, her hope, in revealing this truth.
"It was only a matter of time," Gaia sighs in a tone that seems almost like dismissal. Her gaze does not waver from the mountains lying in the horizon. "You are closer to the earth than any of your other sisters. Your fertility knows no bounds."
Rhea tries to hide her disappointment, though she can't be sure what she expected from Gaia. Words of approval? A loving embrace? Her hand drifts to her belly, seeking comfort in the life swelling beneath her fingertips. "You make it sound like a disease."
Gaia's hand comes to rest on her shoulder. "Our gifts come with their fair share of good and bad." The goddess finally looks to her and Rhea finds her eyes to be more guarded than usual. "Yours, it seems, have grown exponentially."
"What does that mean?"
"Only time will tell." All the confirmation Rhea needs that her mother is hiding something. "Have you informed Kronos?"
"No," she admits. "I wanted to be sure."
Gaia stares at her for a long moment. With every passing second, Rhea's nausea seems to rise. "You were already sure." Her lips settle into a firm line. "Are you afraid?"
Such careful wording gives the queen pause. "Do I have cause to be?"
"That all depends," Gaia says, "on how much you trust him."
I trust no one, Rhea must tell herself in the many months she dwells on this secret. It has nothing to do with Kronos.
Naturally, she blames her mother for this development and not just for the conservation they shared in the grove – but as a side effect of Rhea's entire upbringing. She had forever grown up in the shadow of a mother who had endured the Beginning, who understood what it meant to love and trust and hate and hurt.
But Gaia isn't here.
She nearly tells him half a hundred times in the stolen moments they spend in Rhea's sanctuary or before their heated exchanges in the thermae. Worse still are the nights she shares his bed, wishing she could break the dam withholding the flood of words so desperate to be released.
But an unknown worry holds her back every time.
Rhea sighs, resting her aching back against her swarm of cushions. Even if Kronos doesn't notice, Rhea does. The slight stretch of her belly, her breasts growing round and heavy.
Again, Rhea stokes the flames to her hearth, now muted and dull. A warning, perhaps, she muses. A family cannot thrive on a mountain of secrets.
No more games, she decides. I must tell him the next time I see him.
But perhaps Fate has a cruel way of playing tricks on her. It is not long before she hears his footfall down the hall, making his way towards her.
Her blood chills when his face comes into view.
"There you are." Kronos throws himself down on the cushions beside her. "It's late."
Rhea shrugs. "We don't sleep. The time of the day is of little importance."
"All the same," Kronos pulls her closer, "I missed you."
"I have surely wrapped you around my finger then," she muses, nuzzling his chest. "A few hours gone and you come searching like a lost cub."
"Can you blame me?"
His fingers stroke her cheek. You're a fool, Rhea chides herself. A godsforsaken fool.
Kronos lays a kiss against her lips, innocent enough. But this Titaness knows better. This is the calm before the storm, for his second kiss is searing. Always filled with the insatiable hunger of a starving man. Her bottom lip catches in his teeth and she can't help the whimper that escapes her. Kronos rears like a wolf that's caught onto the scent.
He covers her body with his own. Wanton hands roam freely, pawing at her breasts until Rhea finds herself careening into him. The heat he draws out of her is sudden and blinding.
Until Kronos's hand skims against her stomach.
She breaks away from him, gasping.
"What's wrong?" Kronos asks her, tongue swiping over bruised lips.
Briefly, Rhea wishes she could freeze time right here and burn this moment into her mind forever: blushing faces, tasseled hair, loose tunics slipping from their shoulders.
"I think…" Come out with it. Enough is enough. "I'm with child, Kronos."
For a moment she only hears wood crackling beneath the strain of the flames. "You're…" His eyebrows furrow. "You're sure?"
Her mind reels. "I went to Gaia. She told me it was true," Rhea lies. She groans on the inside, but a small lie such as this one is much easier to reveal than one hiding something of such importance.
"Sweet Chaos," Kronos whispers, for a moment at a loss for words. "Do you know what… it will be?"
Does it matter? She rubs a hand against her burning cheeks, sighing, "No, not for sure."
"Hopefully it's a girl." Perhaps he sees her resulting face that he feels the need to add, "Isn't that what most mothers hope for?"
Rhea frowns. "And wouldn't most fathers hope for a son?"
"I suppose." A shadow passes over his face. "Then again, I'm the Titan that killed his own father. I don't deserve to be content. But you do."
"Kronos," she whispers, a spike of guilt rising in her. She has long thought the worst of all the men in her life but she has no right to question his intentions now.
Rhea finally allows herself to bask in his embrace. It won't be long now until she cradles this babe in her arms and she has him to thank for that. She captures his lips in a celebratory kiss.
"I love you," Kronos murmurs, flushed against her skin. And in that moment, it is easy for her to miss that sparkle of doubt in his eyes. And it is equally as easy for Kronos to forget that she does not say I love you in return.
But she must love him, at least, for this sweet joy he has given her.
Rhea arrives in the heavens out of breath, swearing this will be the last time she indulges in answering favors whilst this pregnant.
"Come quickly, mistress," she hears before hardly opening her eyes. Lord Aether of the heavens stands before her in all his shining radiance, but not for long. He turns on his heel, rushing down the hall with the expectation that Rhea follow him. "Hyperion will make his approach soon, Hemera with him. Nyx must be in the Underworld by then or we fear throwing off the cycle."
Though she has always loved Aether's sunny demeanor since she was a child, it takes all of Rhea's willpower not to incinerate him on the spot. "It is in Kronos's best interest that this does not happen, but please my lord Aether. Take pity on an expecting mother?"
The Primordial realizes his mistake. "Of course, my lady, of course. Forgive me." He returns to her side, wrapping an arm around her waist. "Goodness, I remember when you were a babe yourself, so full of energy. Look at how the time passes. You are also quite far along."
Rhea clears her throat as they continue their brisk walk across his holdfast in the heavens. "I am. Our daughter will grace us with her presence soon."
"A girl? Bold of you to presume." He smiles. They stop at a gilded door where she can barely hear a dozen voices murmuring in unison. "It seems Gaia did not exaggerate. You truly have a way with children."
Rhea grimaces. "Yes, I suspect this is why Nyx requested me. I hope to live up to her expectations, my lord."
Aether pushes open the doors. "Scatter," he demands.
Like the wind, cloud nymphs zoom past him, fleeing out into the hall save for two gripping a raven-haired goddess by both arms.
Aether averts his eyes, ushering Rhea inside, "The floor is yours, my queen."
The doors shut close behind her before she can speak.
"Good niece." The straining goddess cranes her head. "I would bow to you, but it seems I am already crouched."
She squares her shoulders, letting the piled stress from today's events so far roll off her skin. "Do not strain yourself, Lady Nyx. I'm not a Titaness who cares for such pleasantries." A cloud nymph hands Rhea a wet rag to wipe her hands. "Shall we begin?"
She walks to Nyx's side before the goddess can nod her approval. "The birth has stalled?"
"Yes, my lady," one of the nymphs responds. "She has not progressed for hours."
Nyx manages a twisted smile. "Your presence makes all the difference, young Rhea."
Truthfully, Rhea cannot discern sarcasm from sincerity when it comes to this goddess. Nyx's aura on its own is as mysterious as wide-ranging Chaos, full of equal parts horror and mirth. Not that the Titaness has time to encourage Nyx to divulge her inner thoughts.
In any other circumstance, Rhea would feel ridiculous hiking up the goddess of night's gown to catch a glimpse of what lies beneath. Unfortunately, such thoughts of embarrassment have no place when the state of the world is at stake. "I can see a head crowning, but something is preventing the babe from moving." She lays her hands against the Primordial's stomach. A beat passes before the Titaness purses her lips. "Nyx, do you have twins?"
"Fuck if I know," she snorts. "At this rate, I might as well have birthed the Fates all over again."
Rhea cranes her head. Silver glows at her fingertips. Her eyes alight with new revelations. "Wings—" She draws her hand away. "Nyx, I'll have to—"
"Gods if I give a fuck," the goddess retorts. "Do whatever you need to, Rhea."
She sends a pointed glance at the nymphs. "Have those hands ready." They crowd the floor at Nyx's side.
Rhea takes a deep breath, tunneling her concentration. What follows is a small crack – barely audible over Nyx groaning in relief.
"My lady!" exclaims a nymph, in what Rhea hopes is astonishment at the sight of movement.
She takes Nyx by the hand. "It's all you now."
Pain from subsequent contractions tints the air red. "Breathe," Rhea coaxes in the smoothest voice she can manage, recalling that it had brought Gaia comfort once. In truth, both Nyx and the earth goddess seem of similar stock, hardened from eons of toiling within the void.
"One more," the Titaness whispers. She spares a tepid glance at the windows for any sign of sunlight. "One more and he's free."
Nyx's gaze blackens. In a single fell swoop, Rhea feels the entire room being sucked of all air. Of course, she does not need oxygen to live. Rhea holds her breath anyway.
Say what she will about Nyx, the goddess does not scream or cry out through from her labor. In one instance, she even laughs until Rhea's ears pop from a change in atmosphere. One nymph squeals, "My lady!"
There are no cries to signal the birth of a new god, only the sound of a wet load dropping into anxious hands. The babe switches hands quickly to be cleaned of filth and made presentable for his mother. Though even beneath the stain of ichor Rhea still catches sight of sharp, white wings.
Over their barely hidden whispers she hears, "Is he… sleeping?"
"That's impossible."
Ignoring the nymphs, Rhea manages a smile. "His wing must have gotten caught."
The goddess of night snorts. "On what? My fucking pelvis?"
Rhea doesn't respond as Nyx's breath quickens again; no doubt the next babe ready to make his exit. This time, hopefully, with less trouble. Her irises pale and she nods. "Again," Rhea commands.
Dutifully, Nyx follows her lead – a moment Rhea should cherish for all eternity since it is unlikely to ever happen again. She bears down with one final push. Like a dam bursting, the babe slips out in a mess of ichor. Rhea scrambles to catch him.
Nyx falls to the floor out of exhaustion, sighing, "Sweet Chaos."
The soft wail released from Nyx's second son rings out like a rasping choir of dying men. It lasts only for a moment until his abysmal eyes lock onto Rhea's, leveling at her a deeply unsettling stare. Something tells her not to let this one leave her grasp. Unlike his brother, his wings are nearly as black as his mother's hair.
She holds him at a distance, to also be wiped down of ichor, before shuffling the twins to the collapsed goddess of night.
"Blessings to you, Lady Nyx," the nymphs murmur in unison.
She sneers. "Some blessing. Because of these little bastards I nearly missed my deadline." With more strength than Rhea could muster in a lifetime, Nyx rises to her feet, juggling both infants on either hip. Her dark eyes wander to the windows, finally noticing the first signs of sunlight peeking out from between the clouds. "Thank you, dear Rhea. I won't forget this."
Rhea bows as low as she can. "The honor was mine, my lady."
Nyx sweeps out from the room on shaky legs, robes billowing out like smoke behind her. "May the birth of your child turn out much smoother than mine."
She rests a hand on her own swollen belly and feels a twinge of movement beneath it. Won't be long now.
He is in Hyperion's domain when he senses the rip in the universe. A power unrestrained seeping from some unknown crevice. It hits Kronos in his breast and he stops mid-conversation with his brother. "Do you feel that?"
"Feel what?"
The Titan Lord struggles to find the right words. The doors part open before he can make the attempt.
"My lord!"
Theia flutters in, a grown of white silk trimmed with gold flailing behind her like smoke. There are times she shines too bright – when her skin is so pale, her teeth blinding when she smiles, her entire body armed head to toe in shining jewels from different corners of his world – and the Titaness is a nightmare to look at. But Kronos cannot tear his eyes away from her, not as she says, "You must go to Othrys. Rhea—"
She need not even finish. His return is instantaneous.
A smiling Metis awaits him. "This way, my lord," she says, face lit up with a joy he cannot empathize with. She tells Kronos of his wife's state, but he barely hears her.
He can only feel, as he is led along, that nothing is as it should be. The rip in the world is stronger here. The power washes over him, settles him into submission. It is greater than he could ever be, so raw, so untamed. If he lets it, it will destroy him. He knows it will.
They enter Rhea's chambers, where Kronos finds her resting atop their bed, eyes sagged and weary as if Ouranos's sleeping curse has finally gotten the best of her. But it is her grin that makes him breathless, one he has never seen before, so peaceful and so serene.
"Kronos," she whispers, ringing like a gentle sigh. "Come look."
He does not recall telling his body to move. But in the next moment, he finds himself kneeling at her bedside, feeling such love radiating from her soul.
Kronos finds that rip in the universe, nestled between Rhea's arms, suckling from her breast. A golden-flesh daughter so small he can lift her in one hand.
"She is perfect," he says, because it is no lie. She is beautiful and perfect, and… dangerous. She is so dangerous he can hardly breathe.
You never do listen, do you? Ouranos's ghost whispers in his ear from some unknown crevice. I told you: you are doomed to suffer the same fate.
Her eyes glow like coals on a burning hearth. She smiles up at him and his frown only deepens.
She is no Titan.
He knew it in his heart from the very moment he laid eyes on Hestia, even if Rhea was too blind to notice. He has always known.
Hestia coos, her chubby hands reaching up to touch him. Kronos recoils. She is beautiful, far more beautiful than any Titan babe he's ever had the privilege of meeting. But that is not what disturbs him. Beneath the surface, it stirs— power beyond his wildest beliefs. A potent smell that burns the hairs along his nostrils.
She laughs at his expression, a laugh just like his wife's. Her presence is the same, like a gentle hand stroking away his paranoia.
Perhaps if she were older, she could succeed. No, she would succeed.
A better part of him would pay no heed and let the girl live out her days with Rhea. He is king of the cosmos and he need not let a woman – his own daughter – frighten him.
But, for the first time in his immortal life, Kronos wants to cry out to the ether, curse the ghost of his vengeful sire. He wants to pound his feet into the earth, cursing his mother too for not warning of such fate. For allowing Hestia to continue on no longer proves to be an option.
Kronos forces a smile. "There, there," he tells Hestia, holding her tighter in his arms.
Still, the girl frowns, sensing a change in him. She knows something is wrong – so very perceptive, just like her mother.
His form ripples and frays. Her eyes widen in terror – a face to haunt him for eternity. Golden tendrils wrap around her, comforting at first, and then constricting, pulling her inwards toward a special kind of oblivion.
Kronos swallows her whole.
His energy comes together, once more forming the solid entity that is flesh. Kronos look at his arms, Hestia nowhere to be found. She's gone, gone, gone, wriggling inside of him like a little worm. Kronos prays she will die and fade away. But Hestia is immortal and his prayers have never once been answered.
A wind whips through his halls, smothering every lit brazier, candle, and hearth. Heavy silence follows and a chill he has not felt for some time. Not since Rhea first graced Mount Othrys with her presence.
Kronos sinks, cradles his face in his hands, unmoving atop his great obsidian throne. His daughter's face brands itself into his memory. Rhea. For what he's done to her is beyond forgiveness.
Just thought of her summons her into existence, far sooner than he anticipated.
"Kronos?" says a tepid voice from the shadows, down the hall. Footsteps rush towards him. "Something is wrong. Hestia, where… where is—"