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Day 17: Scapegoat / A Repeat of History

The Hearth was taken for granted, not quite ignored but not the focus, either, providing a warmth that would be noticed in its absence but was normal in its presence, nothing special. Nothing that needs paying attention to.

That near-obscurity was where Hestia had faded to when she had given up her throne in the name of peace, permanently altering the balance of Olympus but above all keeping it stable, keeping it going and stopping it from tearing itself apart from within.

There wasn't much she had the power to stop when it came to external threats, but when her family tried to tear itself apart from the seams? That, she could stop.

Her power, her throne, she had handed to Dionysus, but power was not always the answer. Sometimes, the answer was in humility. Keeping the hearth, the home intact wasn't a feat that could be managed with displays of power and clashing. It took compromise, quiet reasoning and respect to truly keep a home together, because the home was greater than any single part that resided inside it.

That was Hestia's job. She'd done the fighting, stood on the frontlines with whatever weapons she could get her hands on at her disposal and thrown herself into the fray knowing that it was fight for her survival, her family's survival, or their early existence in their father's stomach would seem like Elysium compared to their fate.

They had won, but it was an experience Hestia had no intentions of repeating again, except it had, almost, with the giants, before Olympus finally, finally, settled into their home. And it was peaceful.

Hestia was going to make it stay peaceful, wherever it fell within her abilities. Compromises, whispers from the flames, watching and making sure that no matter how much Olympus bent, it never broke.

It took some sacrifices.

Inaction was at times as powerful as action, and it was that that Hestia wielded the most. She watched and didn't offer help as the other gods protested at Zeus' ruling, despite the fact he was nothing like their father. They tried, and they failed, and they were punished.

Hestia didn't know if she agreed with the severity of the punishment, but she didn't disagree with the act of dissuasion. They did not need another war, not one that pit god against god and tore the heavens asunder. Zeus was reasonable, could be reasoned with, and for as long as that held true he was their better option.

It slipped away from her. She watched, and she stayed silent, stayed out of the way as Olympus continued, as Zeus thrived at its head, but for all her watching, she missed the signs.

Perhaps it was because she was always watching that everything seemed fine, that Olympus was strong and under control. Perhaps she should have closed her eyes for a while, like their mother, except that meant abandoning her post, abandoning her home, and that went against the core of Hestia's essence. Rhea could float around, disappear for millennia, and then reappear when she wanted to, but Hestia couldn't.

Hestia's awakening came with Apollo's punishment. It wasn't the first time Apollo had been punished, nor even the second, but while the last two had been understandable – killing the cyclopes had been a heinous crime, and trying to overthrow Zeus and sending them back into another war was equally terrible – this one Hestia couldn't understand.

This one scared Hestia, because it was the worst punishment yet, all but akin to murdering his own son, and it uncomfortably echoed their own father.

Zeus couldn't become like Kronos. He couldn't, because if he did then they needed to do something about it, and doing something about it meant another war, meant repeating the hell that had been Olympus tearing itself apart from within, the Hearth spluttering and dying as the home tore into pieces.

Something had to happen. Something had to stop it happening, but Hestia had no power, no action that she could do. All Hestia had was compromises, inaction, bending so that nothing broke.

She didn't need Apollo or her mother to tell her that wasn't enough, any more.

Thanks for reading!
Tsari