Hermês knew it was serious when he stood before the entire Olympian council and not just the Twelve Major. Haidês had even decided that this was a meeting worth attending rather than his usual self-imposed rule to appear on the Winter Solstice.
There was a blank expression face on Poseidôn's face as if he did not know how to feel whereas his Father and his other Uncle looked on in righteous fury.
Hermês didn't bother looking at their others, knowing what he would find. Though the protective wrath that wrapped around him like a soothing blanket from Apollôn as he supported him was something that he would be thankful for as long as he lived.
And he was deathless.
Zeus, from the many-folded peak of Olympos, told Themis to summon all the gods into assembly. She went everywhere and told them to make their way to Zeus' house. There was no Potamos who was not there, except only Okeanos, there was not any one of the Nymphai who live in the lovely groves, and the springs of rivers and grass of the meadows, who came not. These all assembling in the house of Zeus took place among the smooth-stone cloister walks which Hêphaistos had built for Zeus.
Once everyone was seated, Father Zeus looked upon one of his most favored sons. "Hermês Maiados Huios."
The aforementioned god lifted his chin. He would never be ashamed to be the son of the rich-tressed Maia. She, who was shy and content to stay unbothered by gods in her cave, managed to capture the attention of the Supreme God-King with no effort. Hermês raised his gaze to look his Father in the eye.
Zeus Boulaios raised an amused brow though the stern, contemplating frown never left his face. "Almost an entire lunar year," the King mused. "I have watched you for almost an entire lunar year."
Hermês blinked.
"Ναί, my son," the Father of all gods stated. "Over ten months to the day, I rushed to your side as Apollôn held you in his arms while Khaos branded your visage and Eros soothed it with his power. I watched you fly over the world, leaving no stone unturned as you questioned every god with even the slightest connection to Theoi tou Halioi."
"Well," Father Zeus tilted his head to the side, waving his hand about. "You stand before the gods. Show it to us. Show us the blessing from khaos that you have risked our existence for."
The youngest of all hesitated for barely a moment before the form he had chosen shimmered until he stood there as a radiant boy, naked except for a youth's cloak draped over his left shoulder; his blond-brown hair made him the cynosure of all eyes. Tiny wings of gold were projecting from his locks, in which they had been fastened symmetrically on both sides.
Hermês allowed the cloak to fall from his shoulder, and there in a gleaming silver as if the stars had been poured into them stood letters that were so familiar... so wondrous... so blessed... so khaotic that they could do nothing but draw a silver of a smile from him.
Λεανείρας Ἁλοσυδνη
"Leaneíras Alosydni," Father mused as he read the name. "There was a a princess who later became an Arcadian queen named that once before. She was your sister, yes, Huákinthos?"
The deified mortal startled from his seat beside Apollôn before inclining his head, "I-yes, Father. My elder sister."
Zeus hummed, eyes moving about the gods assembled before him. His gaze landed on Artemis, and something pained flashed through their eyes. "She married Arkas, son of Kallistô."
"And you, Father," Artemis was quick to remind him. "He was your son, also."
Father grimaced slightly before inclining his head turning to look back at Hermês. "Arkas was raised by your Mother, the lovely rich-haired Maia upon Mount Kyllene. Tis was also an epithet in which you were worshipped. How ironic." He didn't spare any of the gods of sea a glance. "For almost an entire year, you have had knowledge of a forbidden child and did not bring it to the attention of the council. My glorious herald, my youngest son. You have broken one of the laws that have been set in place and that stands ground for treason."
Hermês didn't flinch, but it was a near thing.
He flitted his eyes to look at his Aunt. "Are thou not one of the divine leaders of Theoi tou Thesmioi, Dêmêtêr Thesmophoros. Our beautiful golden-haired, Potnia Theaôn... will thee and you, Father Zeus Meilikhios, please listen to me until the end."
The two shared looks while Hermês turned his gaze onto his sister who held a gaze of contemplation as her hand sat atop of her herald's shoulder. "Why must I be on trial for protecting my blessing? Aphroditê Symmakhia, tell me, do you truly stand with me on this?"
The young god turned to the Queen who bore an expression as if she knew that he was to call upon her. "Queen Mother, why must I stand on trial for protecting my Blessing from Khaos? Hêrê Nympheuomenê, why must I defend the need to protect her when presenting her to the council would have made me an enemy of Poseidôn Ennosigaios. A cruel fate, indeed, for me, Hermês Khthonios. To present thy khaos-blessed before you all and thus must guide her to domos Aïdao."
He turned back to look at the King. "I admit it, Father. I have known of her since the middle of Pyanepsiṓn. It was your suspicion of Kheirôn that led me to her for he attends her school to watch over she and her brother."
The Brother that she still thought was missing as Kheirôn and the Apollonides at the Camp tended to her. He had known that it would only be a matter of time that he was brought before the council, but even he had not been prepared for Father to forcefully pull him, Apollôn, and Dionysos onto Olympos when Leaneíras' mark had been uncovered. And when Haidês had stormed in filled with his own earth-shattering anger, well Hermês did not get nervous, but he felt a bit cautious.
"Tis not a secret that Eros, fairest among the deathless gods, unnerves the limbs and overcomes the mind and wise counsels of all gods and all men within them. I had to protect her. She is mine. Leaneíras bears my name. Me, Hermês Argeiphontês. Me, Hermês Kyllenios." He lifted his chin until his eyes were boring into his Father—a challenge he would have never dreamed of making but he could not lose her. He had waited millennia for her. "Me, Hermês Maiados Huios."
Zeus raised a brow sharing a look with his siblings.
"Father, forgive me for my impertinence, but... I cannot... I will not allow anyone— not you, not Haidês, not Poseidôn. Neither my Mother nor the Moirai or Lady Anankê. Not even Khaos and Eros who gave me such a blessing... to keep me from her and she from me. When she walks in my presence, my heart beats differently."
His Mother gasped from where she and her sisters attended to assembly. Her son was in love—truly in love.
Father chanced a glance at his once-bride before looking back at his son. "And what of soft-lidded Peithô? If quikshoe Hermês will make merry bridal with her, if he has forgotten his own wife?"
Hermês shook his head, turning to look at his wife as she stood at the throne of Aphroditê. "Όχι. I cannot forget thy herald of the lovely Aphroditê. She who embodies persuasion; a skill that not only, I, patron of thieves and tricksters, can appreciate. I love her, ναί. But—"
He looked back at his Father. His voice was soft. It was calm. "Do I not deserve this, Father?" The other Gods looked around at each other, sensing a trap within his words.
"Hermês… Son—"
"Do I not deserve this blessing from Khaos?"
"Ναί, of course. But, my son—"
Hermês turned abruptly to Poseidôn. His eyes were blue as the sky his Father commanded. Voice still as soft as the air he flew on. "And do you, Uncle, believe that I am worthy of her hand?"
"I have yet to pass judgment," the King of the Sea intoned.
The herald's smile was almost mocking as he nodded. "A wise decision and yet it is not just your duty to pass judgment as her Father. Theoi Tou Thesmioi are gods of divine law and custom. These were led by Zeus Nomius and Dêmêtêr Thesmophoros. And even they're judgment pales in comparison to the first of the protogenoi."
Athênê and Apollôn shared looks before she nodded her head. "Father Zeus, if I may?"
Their King looked relieved to not have to cast punishment on one of his favored sons. Her own words were trickled with both wisdom and deceit; a remarkable gift for one equal to her father in strength and in wise understanding. "I believe it to be wise if we let the union continue. It is by Fates' will that one child of Poseidôn may be the one of the prophecy."
Apollôn inclined his head in agreement. "Tis only once you have escaped the path Fate lied before you. As when Mêtis was about to bring forth the goddess bright-eyed Athênê, Father Zeus craftily deceived her with cunning words and put her in your own belly, as Gaia and starry Ouranos advised. For they advised him so, to the end that no other should hold royal sway over the eternal gods in place of Zeus for very wise children were destined to be born of her, first the maiden bright-eyed Tritogeneia; but afterwards she was to bear a son of overbearing spirit, king of gods and men."
Poseidôn hummed with consideration. "You who lead the Fates will not stay their hand again, brother Zeus. To kill my daughter would be to kill my son and that may lead Olympos on a path of ruin. We cannot run from Fate and there are no other children from the sons of Rhea eukomos thugater."
"Do I not get a say," his soft spoken Peithô asked. All eyes turned to her who paid them no mind. She cast her gaze unto her husband. Her voice coated in honey. "Is it not my husband who stands on trial? It is not the bastard of his blessing that antagonizes the gods?"
"Peithô," Hermês warned as the weight of Poseidôn's anger fell upon the goddess. She turned her gaze, almost poisonous onto him. "I have stood at your side for millennia. I have watched as you took countless lovers and bore immeasurable amounts of children. And I am supposed to stand aside once more because your deathless soul feens for a mortal? She will die as all mortals do."
Peithô turned her gaze away from him; scornful eyes facing the marbled floor, "And yet Athênê and Apollôn both agree that she must live. They both agree that she and her brother may be our chance at salvation." She looked back to her husband. "You will still pursue her no matter what the judgment may be. You would face eternal punishment just for a brand engraved in your essence that will mean nothing in four years."
She held everyone's attention in her hands and yet she did not falter in her words. "No one. Not King Zeus. Not King Poseidôn. Not the Moirai. Not even Khaos herself will keep you away from her." She sighed softly; casting her gaze to the goddess who she attends to. "Who am I to stand in the way of love?"
"Peithô…"
"When she dies," his wife continued on as if he had not spoken. "I do not want to see you for thrice the years Kalypsô kept Odysseús imprisoned on her isle."
Hermês had no heart to tell her or the council that if Leaneíras were to die then he would guide her soul from the Underworld to stand at his side for the rest of eternity.
Her eyes turned hard though as she cast a glance at Zeus and Poseidôn. "Though, if I may speak out of turn, my husband stands on trial; but when King Zeus and Lord Poseidôn forsworn their sacred oaths on sister Styx; neither laid flat, and not breathe, until a year was completed; these gods came near ambrosia and nectar to eat. Neither laid out flat, on a made bed, and the evil coma covers them. But when, in the course of a great year, neither were over his sickness to follow on in succession another trial, yet harsher: for nine years neither were cut off from all part of the everlasting gods, nor has anything to do with the counsels, the festivals for nine years entire, and in the tenth they mingle in the assemblies of the gods who have their homes on Olympos and bore smiles! Where is the justice! Where is the trial?"
Hermês knew there was a reason that he married her, and it wasn't just because of her good looks.
