by M. M. Kin
The tension in the air was palpable, and Zeus swallowed thickly as he felt a dozen pairs of eyes fixed on him, none of them encouraging.
“Do not look at me like that!” Zeus stated, trying to keep up a strong facade. “I never thought that this kind of thing would happen! Do you think I like having all the mortals suffer and die?”
“So this means that if you knew how pissed off Demeter would become, you would not have given away her daughter? Is that the only thing that would have stopped you from making the agreement with Hades behind her back?” Athene asked, staring at her father coolly. Zeus tried to control himself, but he bristled visibly under his oldest child's stinging words.
“I did not come here to be antagonized. I want to work out a solution, but if all you are going to do is make things difficult, then there is no point in me being here...” the King of the Gods replied, rising from his seat.
“Sit down. Right now.” This came from his left, and Athene did not bother hiding a smirk as Hera stared at her husband frostily, her tone matching her words. Her lips were set in a tight line as she stared at her husband. “You have no right to complain about anything any of us might say to you. We have seen the misery in Hellas and put up with you dicking around for too long.”
He tried to defy his wife, silently commanding his feet to carry him away. All he could do was lower himself back into his throne, bristling under Hera's blunt description of his actions. It sounded so odd to hear 'dicking' from a woman who was usually far more refined in her speech.
“Even after all this time, do you not realize what you did was wrong? Whether or not Demeter would have wreaked her anger on Hellas has nothing to do with it,” Hera added. There were some murmurs of agreement, mostly from the goddesses. The gods were pointedly silent but for Hephaistos and Dionysus. Truth be told, it did not surprise Hera that Poseidon, Apollo, or Ares didn't really see what was wrong with Zeus's actions other than the death of the mortals, for they truly were of his ilk. Hermes looked uncomfortable, silently drumming his fingers on the table.
The Messenger God had been thinking about Kora ever since he heard about what had happened. One thought that nagged at him was why Zeus had taken a role in this at all. He had plenty of children, from goddesses and mortal women alike. He certainly wasn't above involving himself – or rather, meddling – in important matters concerning his offspring, such as marriage. His help was often beneficial. If not for Zeus, Perseus would not now be king of Joppa, a mighty city that lay on the opposite side of the Mediterranean, yet untouched by Demeter's blight. Zeus certainly enjoyed seeing his children succeed, for it reflected on him as a father, even though he actually spent little time with each individual child – a result of having so many of them and spending so much time in the pursuit of making more.
Zeus wasn't a bad father, just an overall distant one except for the few lucky times any one child might gain his undivided attention when he was in a fatherly mood.
Now, what had Kora done to gain Zeus's attention? Especially when she was the daughter of his sister, a powerful goddess who was more than capable of taking care of her own affairs? Hermes did think it was a bit odd that Demeter wanted to raise Kora in secret. He had never seen anyone so protective of his or her child, so why did Zeus not consult his sister, much less ask permission to give the girl away to Hades?
There was a possibility that quietly nagged at the Messenger God whenever he dwelt on that question. It was the logical guess, but at the same time it baffled Hermes.
“Perhaps I should have consulted with Demeter in that matter, but I felt she was too protective of the girl, and...”
“A good mother is protective of her children!” Hera replied firmly, giving her husband another displeased glare.
“I am not saying it's a bad thing...” Zeus said, gently waving his hands as he tried to placate his wife. “But Kora was of suitable age. I was concerned that she was being... denied opportunities in her life because Demeter was keeping her so sheltered. So when Hades asked for my blessing, I thought, why not? He promised she would be taken care of, and we all know he is a man of his word. I have explained this before, yet you are all acting like I am the bad guy here! I am not the one who is starving Hellas!”
As Hermes listened to the other gods argue, he pondered. Why be so concerned about Kora? From what Hermes saw, she was already well-cared for. She apparently didn't seem to feel a need for the company of men. And why did Hades go to Zeus? It was all obvious to Hermes when he carefully examined the facts one by one and put them together like a puzzle.
“Zeus.” Rhea's voice was quiet but strong, silencing the others. “Do you not feel bad for Demeter? Not because of what is happening in Hellas, but because of how she feels? You hurt her terribly.”
Zeus let out a long, slow sigh. He genuinely meant best, but he was well aware that his best intentions sometimes hurt people. He thought he was doing Hephaistos a favor by giving him Aphrodite as wife – and look at how poorly that had turned out! He always hated it when he made things worse by doing someone a favor – and his general strategy of dealing with such occurrences was to try to avoid the matter as he quietly attempted to fix whatever it was he did. Danae had been lonely and he gave her companionship, but then her father wanted to put her to death when he found out she was pregnant. She was discarded like garbage, forced into a coffin and tossed into the seas so that King Acrisius could claim that he didn't actually slay her. She had been alive and well when she left his hands, rationalized Acrisius, what fault was it if a storm or a leak claimed her life?
Zeus was satisfied that he had done right by her. She had found a new home and a good man who took her in, treated her kindly, and raised her son as his own. It was too bad that the situation with Demeter couldn't be ameliorated so easily. Demeter wanted to protect her daughter, and that was certainly understandable after what Ares had nearly done to her. But Hades promised her safety and well-being, and with her being of age, Zeus honestly thought it was best for all parties. After all, what better husband than Hades? He was honorable and taciturn, and his word was of infinitely more value than the riches of the Underworld. Demeter would never have to worry about whether her daughter was being mistreated. She loved her daughter so much, but she was terrifying when angered. He remembered all too well that fateful night so many years ago when she had discovered his trickery.
“No. I did not want to hurt her. I just gave my blessing to what I thought would be a good situation for everyone. It was never my intention to make her feel like this. If I could go back in time and change it, I would. I am sorry.” It was not often that Zeus apologized, because it had never been easy for him to swallow his pride and admit that he made a mistake, even though he had made them often enough. But as the last phase rolled off his tongue, he was surprised to note that he actually felt a bit better.
“Have you told her that?” Rhea answered.
“... No.”
“After everything that has been happening, it had never occurred to you to apologize to Demeter?” Hera was incredulous.
“I do not know how much help it would be at this point, but you need to apologize to your sister.” Rhea let out a low sigh, rubbing her temples as she heard mutters of agreement. The last couple of months had been stressful on everyone, and this ordeal could not be over fast enough. Hestia said that the hearths throughout Hellas no longer provided as much warmth. The mortals who managed to survive famine now had the cold to contend with.
“Yes.” Feeling overwhelmed, Zeus nodded. There was the possibility that an apology would assuage his sister's fears. And there was that bit about not eating any Underworld food. If Kora hadn't eaten any of the food, she could return to the surface. There was hope yet, however slim.
o0o
Demeter was silent as she and Iris arrived at Olympus. Initially, she hadn't wanted to come, but the summons had come from Zeus himself and Iris had made it clear that it was important to Zeus and that the messenger herself thought it wa
s too. Perhaps now Zeus was ready to return her daughter!
Iris was glowing, her aura conveying a palette of mostly green, with a bit of other earthy colors here and there. Demeter knew that this display was intended to soothe her, but she was too tense to enjoy the luminous show.
Demeter was a stately sight even in her drab cloak. It was a dull gray-brown, much like the lifeless earth in Hellas. The other gods stared at her as she entered the Council room but did not take her seat. The tension was palpable, and nobody could ignore it.
Rhea rose from her seat, going to her daughter's side. She touched Demeter's arm.
“It is most fortunate that you are here. Come, sit and we can talk.”
“I have no desire to sit and chat. I was invited here for a reason, and I will be told of it now or I am leaving.” The Harvest Goddess pulled away from her mother. Rather than entreat Demeter further, the older earth-goddess turned toward the others, fixing her attention upon her youngest son.
“You heard her. You know what needs to be said.”
The eyes around the room turned from Demeter to Zeus, and the King of the Gods felt his breath catch in his throat. This was indeed a humbling moment, but he knew he needed to speak quickly so he could get it over with and things could go back to normal, or at least closer to it.
He rose from his seat and cleared his throat, looking at his sister.
“Demeter. I am sorry.” There was a terse silence around the room for an unbearable moment, and Zeus swallowed again. He could see his sister frown at him, her eyebrows furrowed in confusion.
“Ahem. What I mean is... I apologize for what I did. I regret my actions, and am sorry for the pain I caused you. I did what I thought was best, but I acted rashly. Words cannot express how aware I am of my wrongdoings or the consequences they had on everybody else. I truly... honestly... am sorry.” He hung his head, looking like a chastised boy. He had meant his words, and once he started talking, it had all just poured out of his mouth with the charm that he could so easily draw upon. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Hera nod approvingly. Rhea's features softened as she looked at him.
“Is that all?” Demeter asked coolly. He refused to let her dismissal bother him – at least, openly – and returned his gaze to her face.
“You have every right to be angry, but I meant what I said. Not a day will go by that I will not remember this. I have never been so sorry!” How could he ever forget the misery he saw on Earth? He was the mighty King of the Gods, but he couldn't even feed the mortals that worshiped him and his brethren?
“All right then.” Demeter remained aloof, arms crossed under her cloak.
“Sister, you are furious with me and I understand why. I will apologize a thousand times if I have to, but please, do not punish anybody else for what I did! Why should others suffer for my own stupid mistake?” He appealed her, palms turned upward as if begging for alms.
“I am glad to hear that, Zeus. You certainly do not apologize as often as you need to.”
Zeus gracefully accepted the barb sent his way, bowing his head again. Now was most certainly not the time to show any arrogance or impatience.
“I hope that you did not bring me here just to give me words,” Demeter stated, her hands moving to her hips. Inwardly, he grimaced. Demeter wanted absolutely nothing less to have her daughter at her side again. He risked a fresh spate of her wrath for not having the fulfillment of her desire at hand. He could only hope that what he could give her might give everybody even the slightest measure of relief.
“There is a chance yet,” Zeus explained, trying to sound as optimistic as he could without sounding too cheery, “Is it not said that those who eat the food of the dead are forever doomed to that world? Are we not all...” He gestured to the rest of the deities within the chamber, “aware that we must not eat any of the food there? Each of us tells our children that the food is a curse, to only eat the ambrosia and nectar of the gods if not the food the mortals have to offer?”
Demeter paused. It was an admonition she had imparted upon Kora. The Underworld was a gloomy enough place for any deity, but for deities of the earth, who had the Gift to manipulate life-energy, the realm of Dis was a dead place indeed. She could not use her Gift because there was nothing down there to apply it to. Heaven forbid that she ever become trapped down there! She hoped that Kora hadn't become tempted enough to eat... but even if she did, Demeter would still act. Her daughter had been kidnapped after all. Whether or not she ate the food of the dead was beyond the matter.
“Is that all you can offer?” the Harvest Goddess asked calmly, masking her fury.
“I have no control over the Underworld or its denizens. Only Hades has power over such a matter.”
“So you are as impotent to fix things as ever,” Demeter snarled.
“Ahem! If I might interject...” Hermes knew he was taking a risk speaking in front of Demeter, but he had been the one to replay messages to Hades from either Zeus or Demeter. Because Demeter was not on speaking terms with her brother, no one else but Hermes knew what she and Hades said to each other. There was one thing that he hadn't reported to Zeus, and the messenger god knew the time was now.
“Respected aunt, you know I only wish you the best. I have done what I could in the search for your daughter. But have you forgotten Hades's offer? He is willing to let you see Kora...”
If looks could kill, Demeter's glare would have rivaled Medusa's.
“What? Is that true?” Poseidon asked. The other gods glanced at one another in surprise and curiosity. Despite Demeter's glare, Hermes continued.
“Hades told me that he is willing to allow mother and daughter to reunite, but only if...”
“Hermes!” Demeter's voice was steely.
“Hermes has something important to tell us,” Rhea said, staring pointedly at her daughter. “Go on.” She nodded at her grandson.
“He said that he intends to keep her as his bride, but he is willing to allow a reunion if Demeter will accept that fact.”
“Hmm.” Rhea frowned, but she was surprised Demeter hadn't jumped on that chance.
“Then consent, and you will see your little girl again!” Poseidon interjected. There were several comments of agreement from the men at the table. It sounded so simple!
“Consent to a marriage I never approved of in the first place just so I can see Kora again! I am insulted that any of you would ask me to consider that!” Her features contorted in a fresh burst of fury as Rhea reached out.
“I will not ask you to decide on that. And none of them should, either!” Rhea said, her eyes roving along the faces of the others in the room as she frowned at them. She hoped Demeter would accept Hades's offer soon enough for the sake of everybody, but she understood her daughter's anger. The offer was insulting to a mother who had her daughter abducted and carried off due to the schemes of men. “Let Hermes go to the Underworld right now. He can ask if Kora has eaten any of the food, and if she has not, then Zeus will do his best to get her back... you will do that, dear son, yes?” Her tone was pointed as she glanced at Zeus, and he nodded. “And if not... well, we will talk later. Without the interference of men.” A talk between the women of Olympus should yield better results than one where the casual comments of men would just provoke Demeter's wrath further.
o0o
Hermes disliked every trip to the Underworld, and hoped that this would be the last one in a long time. He remembered the spark of defiance in Kora's eyes. Demeter claimed that she knew to not eat the food of the Underworld. If she was as rebellious and spirited as ever, then he just might be returning with the daughter of the Harvest Goddess and bring an end to the starvation and cold that had a firm hold on Hellas.
But if he came back empty-handed... ooh, he did not even want to think about it. He looked over his shoulder one last time, giving Demeter a brief nod before he shot up into the air.
Chapter XLIII
o0o
Hades wanted forgiveness, and Persephone was temp
ted to grant it as he looked up at her, sorrow and regret all too clear in his eyes, but his remorse did not undo what he had done. She was now bound to the Underworld, her fate forever tied to his. It weighed heavily upon her shoulders, and despite his obvious regret at hurting her, it did not necessarily mean that he truly understood just what he had done to her. He said he had been called to this place and was willing to be King of the Underworld, rather than be at the short end of a gamble between his brothers and himself. Great for Hades that he found his place, but who was he to decide where her place was?
“I gave of myself to you in a way we both wanted. Was that not enough for you?” Persephone asked as she looked down at him.
Hades looked away for a moment before answering. “Why did you give yourself to me? We could have continued as we had before. I was willing to wait, as much as I desired to take you fully.”
Persephone was unable to speak for a moment. She had consented to sharing her time with him, after all, and she did enjoy the pleasures he had to offer. She conceded to him the first night because she was curious, and he had promised that she could keep her maidenhead, that he would not force her into anything. So she let him put her through a myriad of experiences, confident that since she would still be a virgin, her hymen intact, she could go back to the surface world and Mother would not know what she had done. It had started out as rebellion, a desire to be treated like a woman, not a child, and by a man who would respect her boundaries and stop when she asked him to. It was supposed to be safe, a way to explore her sexuality with a man she was quick to find herself attracted to. He made her a promise, and she trusted him to keep it. And he had.
