by Aimee Carter
At last he eased back onto his throne, taking me with him. I curled up in his lap, not caring that it wasn’t proper or that I was married or anyone who came in would assume the worst. Let them. I needed Hades. I needed a friend.
He rubbed my back, not saying a word. Finally, once I’d cried myself out, I rested against him and took several deep breaths. “Demeter’s pregnant.”
His hand stilled between my shoulder blades, and confusion radiated from him. “Oh?”
“Zeus is the father.”
“Oh.” His arms tightened around me. “Hera, I’m so sorry.”
“Could I stay down here with you?” For the first time in all my eternal years, I sounded like a child. But Hades was the only person I trusted anymore, and unlike the other members of the council, he would never take advantage of my vulnerability. Zeus and Poseidon would have reveled in it; my sisters and the younger generation would have seen weakness. But Hades understood.
“Yes,” he whispered. “Of course. As long as you need.”
“Thank you.” I rested against him, my face buried in the crook of his neck as I inhaled his scent—winter and stone, with hints of a burning fire. It may have taken much longer than I’d anticipated for him to fill his promise, but he finally had. I wasn’t alone, after all.
* * *
I remained in the Underworld for so long that I lost track of the seasons. News came from Zeus’s messenger when Demeter’s daughter, Persephone, was born, and while Hades went up to visit, I couldn’t find it in myself to bother.
Occasionally I met my sons on the surface, sometimes for an afternoon swimming in the ocean, sometimes for an entire week living amongst the trees as we talked. That was the one part about the current arrangement that I hated—missing them. Ares was fully grown now and had taken his place on the council, defending what he thought were my wishes. But I could see Zeus in him, in every step he took, in every word he said, and it was agony.
Hephaestus was quieter, much more reserved, and his limp was a constant reminder of what his father had done to him. I never had to worry about seeing Zeus in him—he couldn’t have been more different from that arrogant, insufferable liar. But his limp never went away, and despite my best efforts, Zeus had claimed a stake in his life, as well.
The more time I spent with Hades, the more I grew to appreciate what he did. Day in and day out, often without rest, he listened to the souls who awaited his judgment. Sometimes for minutes, sometimes for hours, and on one memorable occasion, for well over a day. Usually they talked about their mistakes and regrets, but the more I listened, the more I realized that those weren’t the parts of their lives the dead lingered on. The happy times—family, love, the moments in the sunshine that didn’t seem extraordinary at the time, but remained with them even after death—those were the parts that made them smile. Those were the parts they seemed eager to tell Hades about. Those were the parts of their lives that validated them, that made them feel whole, that gave their life purpose.
I envied them. Even when I was with my sons, Zeus remained with us, tainting everything. My only time away from him completely was with Hades in the Underworld, and I relished it. I remained by his side, leaving only to meet my sons or fulfill my duties to humanity, and there was nowhere else I would’ve rather been.
Occasionally he asked my opinion on exceptionally difficult cases. With him, I wanted to be gracious. I wanted to show him the compassionate side of me that Zeus had so maliciously ripped to shreds. I wanted to show him I wasn’t the ice queen everyone else seemed to think I was. I wanted to be my best.
One day, as I explored the outer edge of the Underworld, I heard footsteps behind me. This was the area where the dead spent all of eternity, and it wasn’t unusual to run across them. Each time I stepped through the rock barrier, the world around me was different, and this time I walked along the edge of an island much like the one where we’d defeated Cronus.
“Hera?”
I stilled. I would have recognized that voice anywhere, and it was the last one I wanted to hear again.
Demeter.
“I have nothing to say to you.” I could’ve disappeared and returned to Hades’s palace, but I wasn’t about to give her the satisfaction of seeing me run from her. This was my home now. She would be the one to leave.
“Hera, I need to talk to you.” She touched my wrist, and I jerked away. “Please. It’s important.”
“Our definitions of important are vastly different now, I suspect.” I moved away from her, heading toward the ocean.
“Zeus wants to marry off the children,” she said. “Including Ares and Hephaestus.”
I stopped at the edge of the water, and the waves lapped at my feet. “Excuse me?”
“Zeus—he’s decided that Apollo, Hephaestus and Ares will marry Persephone, Aphrodite and Athena.”
That bastard. He wanted to do to his own children what he’d done to me. “Tell him I will never allow it.”
“He insists he doesn’t need your permission—”
“I am the goddess of marriage,” I thundered, turning on my heel to look at her for the first time in years. “Any marriage I do not bless will fail.”
Demeter stood there trembling, more frightened than I’d ever seen her before. She seemed older now, more like our mother, and for a split second I nearly didn’t recognize her. Her skin was paler than before, and she looked as if she hadn’t smiled in a decade.
This wasn’t my sister. Zeus had ruined her as well, just as he’d ruined me.
In that moment, I felt a spark of sympathy, but I squelched it before it could grow into a flame. She’d watched him do the same thing to me. She should’ve known.
“Please, Hera,” she whispered. “Come back. You can stop this—he’ll listen to you. He misses you, even though he doesn’t want to admit it.”
“Why do you care?” I snapped.
She swallowed. “Because when Persephone comes of age, he wants to marry her to Ares.”
The thought of my son marrying her daughter made my stomach turn, as I’m sure it made hers, though for entirely different reasons. Ares wasn’t known for his gentleness. “And who would you prefer she marry?”
“Someone she chooses,” said Demeter quietly. “Someone she loves.”
I took a deep breath, inhaling the scent of the fake ocean. “I will speak with Ares and Hephaestus, and in the meantime, tell Zeus I will never return. I’m happy here, and nothing he offers me will ever change my mind.”
Demeter hesitated. “He knows,” she said quietly. “And it hurts him.”
“Good.” The more pain he was in, the better. “I will meet with my sons immediately. Now go.”
“Thank you,” she whispered. She didn’t disappear yet, though. Instead Demeter hesitated, shifting her weight as if she wanted to move closer to me, but thought better of it. “I did it for you, you know. For us.”
I scoffed. “You had my husband’s bastard for me?”
“To even our numbers. To stop Zeus from taking over—”
“He’s already taken over,” I said, not bothering to hide my bitterness. “We lost a very long time ago, and I won’t listen to your lies. If you’d really wanted to help by having a child, you would’ve had one with Poseidon.”
“Zeus would’ve never allowed her onto the council then,” said Demeter, and though I knew she was telling the truth, it wasn’t the excuse she wanted it to be. It was simply another example of how he�
�d already won.
“I would have fought for her place,” I said. “I would’ve fought for you. Now I have no one left to fight for but myself. I hope you’re proud.”
An unbearable sadness settled over her expression, and she exhaled, as if breathing out any last hope she had. Good. “Proud is the last thing I am. You of all people should recognize that.” She nodded to me once. “Goodbye, Hera. For what it’s worth, I will forever be sorry for what I did to you.”
I sniffed. “As you should be.”
Demeter turned and walked back toward the stone wall. For a moment, something inside me, something I’d buried so long ago that it had nearly suffocated underneath my resentment and quiet rage, wiggled free. And I wanted nothing more than for her to turn around and come back to me.
But she’d made up her mind long ago, as had I. That path was gone now, and no matter how badly I ached to be sisters again, circumstances would never allow it. Not anymore.
As soon as she was gone, I wasted no time. Less than an hour later, I met Ares and Hephaestus on the island scarred by Cronus’s imprisonment. “What do you two want?”
Ares scoffed. He was so much taller than me now, and he’d cropped his dark curls short. “I’d rather never marry. I see no point. Unless, of course, it was Aphrodite.” He grinned, and Hephaestus scowled. Apparently Ares wasn’t the only one who had fallen under her spell. “Wouldn’t mind having a go with her.”
Yes, Ares was every bit his father’s son. “And you, Hephaestus?”
“I wouldn’t mind marrying,” he said quietly as he watched the waves wash away his uneven footprints. “But I would rather choose my partner.”
And Hephaestus was every bit mine. “I’ll take care of it,” I said, touching his hand. “Zeus is a tyrant, and you both deserve better than this.” I wouldn’t let what had happened to me happen to them. Even Zeus’s daughters didn’t deserve it, though my sons had both apparently taken a liking to Aphrodite. But she was not their property, and they had no right to choose for her.
For the first time in years, I arrived in Olympus. After so long in the Underworld, the intense sunlight in the throne room nearly blinded me, but I forced myself to adjust quickly. I would not show weakness.
“Zeus!” I called, my voice echoing down the hallways, reaching every inch of Olympus.
Seconds later, he appeared in front of me. He too looked older now, as if he and Demeter had chosen to age together. I’d kept my appearance young to match Hades’s, and now that I saw Zeus in front of me, the differences between them—both inside and out—became painfully clear. I’d made the wrong decision. And despite the few golden moments my marriage to Zeus had brought me, our sons included, I would have given anything to go back to those minutes in the antechamber before my wedding. I would have given anything to marry Hades instead.
“Hera.” His voice had a mixture of caution and relief. “To what do I owe this long-awaited honor?”
“You know why I’m here.” Despite his considerable height, I stood toe-to-toe with him, refusing to flinch as he stared down at me. He may have sounded kind and genial, but lightning flashed in his eyes. He hadn’t forgiven me, just as I would never forgive him. “You will not have my blessing for any marriage you arrange for your children that they do not consent to,” I said. “Nor will any of their marriages produce legitimate offspring.”
He tilted his head, as if I were a curious creature he’d never seen before. “You would neglect your duties in such a way?”
“My duty is to bless unions taken on willingly,” I said. “Not to condone slavery.”
“Is that what you think of our marriage?” He reached out to touch my cheek, and I slapped his hand away. “Do you think of yourself as a slave?”
“Our marriage is nothing now. It clearly never meant anything to you, and it no longer means anything to me. But I will hold you to your vows, and I will not grant you a divorce. You may not marry another woman.”
“And you may not marry another man.” Though he forced his voice to remain steady, his face slowly turned red, and his fists were clenched so tightly that his knuckles were white. “Is that what you wish? An eternity of loneliness?”
“Is that what you call sharing my sister’s bed? Loneliness?”
“No,” he said. “And I would imagine you’re just as lonely as I am.”
I bit the inside of my cheek. Zeus had no way of knowing the nature of my relationship with Hades, and I was more than happy to allow his imagination to run wild.
“Is this your endgame?” said Zeus. “Marry Hades and become his queen?”
“I will never be anyone’s queen again,” I said. “I am a queen in my own right, and neither you nor anyone else on this damn council can take that from me.”
“But that is what you want, isn’t it?” said Zeus. “To be Hades’s wife.”
I narrowed my eyes. “I am your wife whether I like it or not. I will not let you out of that contract no matter how you try to entice me.”
“So be it, my queen,” he said, and he bowed his head mockingly. But as he straightened, his mask slipped, and for a moment I saw his weariness. “If you come back, I will allow the children to marry whomever they want.”
“You will allow them to marry whomever they want regardless of what I do or don’t do,” I said. “Marriage isn’t your domain.”
“As you have so clearly displayed. Very well. If you wish to start this war—”
“I haven’t started anything,” I snapped. “You’re the one who did this. You’re the one who destroyed our marriage, who broke your promises, who did everything you possibly could to make me miserable. This might be a game to you, but I will not allow you to ruin their lives, as well.”
I turned on my heel and stormed toward the portal. Before I could reach it, however, Zeus said in a quiet voice that carried, “You win, Hera. Ares and Hephaestus will not marry anyone they do not love.”
Taking a deep breath, I refused to acknowledge him. Just another move in our endless war. A way to twist and turn me until I was unrecognizable even to myself.
“But you do not get to say what my daughters can and cannot do. They are mine, and if our marriage is nothing to you, then your role as their stepmother means nothing, either. You will bless the marriages I choose for them, or I will hold you accountable for treason against the council, and you will be stripped of your title and domain.”
“Fine,” I snarled. “Do whatever you want with your bastards.”
“Oh, I will,” he murmured. “That’s one promise I assure you I will keep.”
* * *
Five days later, Hades knocked on the door to my chambers in the Underworld. Despite what Zeus may have thought, I hadn’t so much as kissed Hades, nor had I tried. Some relationships took time, and because I would never be able to marry him, I couldn’t pressure him into something he may not have been ready for. But I would be there for him, always. That was one thing Zeus couldn’t take from me.
“Come in,” I called. I sat in front of a mirror, decorating my hair with diamonds. It never ceased to amaze me how many jewels were scattered carelessly around the Underworld, as if Hades couldn’t be bothered to pick them up. On the surface, they would have been worth a fortune to any mortal; yet it was just another example of how Hades’s values were different. How he didn’t care for the material or the conventional. He cared about the forgotten. About people like me.
Hades slipped inside the bedroom. “
Hera? Oh. I am not interrupting, am I?”
“No, of course not,” I said. “Come help me, would you, please?”
Obediently he moved behind me, and his careful fingers took over for me, placing the jewels amidst the length of my braid. For a long moment, he didn’t speak.
“Is everything all right?” I said, watching him in the mirror. He didn’t raise his eyes to meet mine. Instead he paused and pursed his lips.
“I have something I must tell you,” he said quietly. “And I fear you will not like it.”
My insides grew hollow, and the joy that usually filled me when I was with him drained away. “What is it?”
More silence. He took his time finishing my hair, and at last, when he gently set the braid back over my shoulder, he said, “I am betrothed.”
My body turned to ice. For a moment I ceased to exist, and he finally looked at me. Not even the piercing stare of his silver eyes could revive me.
Married. He was getting married.
“I have been considering it for a while now. I’m depending far too much on your generosity and guidance, and it isn’t fair of me to continue to do so. You have a life on the surface. Your sons, if nothing else, and I cannot endure the guilt of keeping you here.”
He thought I didn’t like it down here? He thought I stayed out of obligation? “Hades, I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else. I’m happy down here. With you.”
He shook his head. “That is the trick of this place—it makes you feel as if you are happier than you really are. Down here, you are hiding from your life, and I cannot allow it to continue. You need to return to Olympus. You need to return to our family.”
