Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Olympus was silent. It was an odd state for the mountain to be in, Dionysius’s parties, Apollo’s singing, The sound of Hermes’s wings flittering as he zipped about delivering messages- there was always noise on Olympus. The gods were a naturally obstreperous lot, petty squabbles were constant and they had almost daily banquets—even their very presence was loud, or at least oppressive.

Oylmpus had been uncharacteristically quiet for a few weeks now though. The Gods seemed resigned to their mourning, the muted atmosphere so predictable by now it was hard to imagine it ever lifting. They hadn’t had a feast since the arena, Zeus’s constant invitations that overworked poor Hermes were nowhere to be found.

No one wanted to have to face the empty seat that would await them.

Zeus himself hadn’t left his palace since the tournament ended. Since he had screamed at Apollo to—do something, you stupid imp! Isn’t this your domain?!—since he had ordered Ares and Hermes to carry her to the infirmary, insistent that Apollo would find something to aid her soon—Zeus hadn’t left since he had killed her.

No one had tried to speak to him since then, they offered condolences and comfort to each other but gave him a wide berth, their expressions betrayed anger and hatred, but most importantly fear. That fear was what stopped the pantheon from giving Athena a proper burial, her corpse still rotting in Apollos infirmary. It sat there, swarmed by files, thoughtless eyes—the wisdom Goddess was thoughtless now, fates that was so wrong—glaring accusingly at anyone who passed by.

She was still there despite the fact decomposition had begun and it was becoming, frankly, unsanitary. She was kept there because the pantheon feared Zeus would strike someone else if he was denied his insanity.

She deserved to rest, even if he refused to acknowledge that she was really not coming back. No one dared to say that to him though.

Well, almost no one.

The door to Zeus’s chambers slid open, and Hera stepped in cautiously. Centuries ago, she had demanded he build her her own bedroom, upset over a particularly recent affair of his. She was even more glad for it now. She didn’t think she could sleep next to him ever again after what he did.

Hera spoke before she could frighten herself into leaving. “Zeus, you need to allow Apollo to remove her from the infirmary. It’s unsafe, and affecting his other patients mentally.” Her tried to inject some semblance of confidence into her tone, he wouldn’t kill her so soon after what happened in the arena. Even if he didn’t care about her, they were already having a hard enough time trying to explain Athena no longer answering prayers to the mortals. He wouldn’t want to add explaining the Goddess of marriages’ absence to that headache.

Zeus growled in response to her statement. “Has that idiot still not healed her yet?”

“There’s nothing to heal Zeus! There’s hardly anything left to bury!” Hera snapped. She was never close to her step-kids—honestly “never close” was generous, she was outright hostile—but she wouldn’t allow him to insult Apollo for being unable to heal the unhealable. Not after he tortured the poor boy with the remains of his sister, forcing him to walk past her body everyday and be subject to its worsening condition.

Zeus sat up from his bed. “I dare you to say that again Hera. I dare you. She will be fine once she ceases her theatrics.”

“You know what? I’m not doing this with you anymore. I’m going to order that her body be buried. She doesn’t deserve to have her memory desecrated like this.” Hera turned to storm out as she finished speaking. Both from anger and desperation to leave before things could go south.

Zeus straighten up, face twisted in panic as he called out to her before she could leave. “Wait, Hera, please. Just- just give me one more day, ok? I’ll fix it I promise. I’ll figured something out.” He begged.

The sudden shift in demeanor startled her, and she turned back to face him, conflicted. “There’s nothing you can do Zeus.”

Zeus shook his head. “No, I can think of something. Just give me till the end of the day, please.”

Hera sighed before relenting. “Ok. We can wait till nightfall. But after that, we bury her.” She turned on her heels and left before he could respond, or switch up to being aggressive again.

Zeus stared at the spot she had just stood, processing. How could they want to get rid of her? Athena had barely even had time to get better. He stood up abruptly, stumbling to his closet and throwing on the first thing he could grab. He needed to hurry, if they wanted to dispose of her they’d have to get through him to do it. He’d fix this. Athena would be just fine.

And he knew just the deities who could make sure of that.

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Zeus soared through the air in his eagle form, the shape of a familiar cliffside rapidly becoming more focused. He dove down to the boulder perched haphazardly on the edge of the overhang.

The man chained to the rock flinched violently at the sight of him, eyes wide and unrecognizing. Zeus transformed in a shower of light, he had expected the man to calm down once he realized Zeus wasn’t an actual eagle, but if anything the man only seemed more frightened once he shifted.

“Z-Zeus…?” Prometheus’s voice was shaking even more then he was.

“Calm yourself, Prometheus. This is just pitiful.” Zeus scoffed as he approached the titan to get a better look at his chains. They were still pristine and they shimmered with magic. Zeus hummed pridefully, he really was excellent at his job, Prometheus would have been stuck here till Gaia herself withered away had he not required his help.

Zeus drew his thunderbolt from its sheathe at his back, before slamming it into the links of metal binding Prometheus. The metal shattered instantly, pieces of electrified molten flying across the clearing.

Prometheus sat on the boulder for a second stunned, before he scrambled to his feet to kneel before the God King. “Thank you for your mercy, my King. I can assure you I will never defy you again-“

“Save your groveling for later, Prometheus. I have a job for you.” Zeus still held his lightning out of its container. He doubted Prometheus would refuse his order, but it didn’t hurt to have extra persuasion at the ready. “Recently, one of my daughters has passed. I would like you to craft her a new body. Since you have experience with making the humans already, I expect your second try at making intelligent life will be much less flawed.” Zeus tightened his grip on his weapon at that, a subtle but effective threat.

Prometheus stood wide eyed as he processed what the Zeus had said. “Which one of your children died?” He asked before he could think better of it.

Zeus glared for second before growling out the answer. “Athena.” He ignored the look of shock that washed over Prometheus and turned to leave the cliff. “Do move with haste, this is of the utmost importance and I’d hate to have to return you to your boulder so soon after releasing you.” Zeus transformed again and spread his wings, not bothering to look back and ensure the titan followed.

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The second and final errand he had to run before they could start working was to his brothers realm. He had never been fond of the underworld, it was hideous and filled with disrespectful souls who thought that just because they were already dead they didn’t have to bow to him.

Luckily for Zeus, he didn’t plan on staying long. His brother would aid him just as Prometheus had. Or else.

He pushed open the door to a quaint black palace. He strode through the halls like he owned them, because really he did, there was little he didn’t own as the God King.

He dipped his head into his brothers office before walking in. Hades sat at his desk writing on a scroll, sorting through the names of souls and the contents of their lives at an unnatural speed. He flinched once Zeus cleared his throat, turning to face him and tipping his head, but not kneeling or properly bowing.

“Where is she, brother?” Zeus spoke. There was no need for pleasantries, what he was here for was obvious.

Hades sighed. “I was wondering when you’d come around to ask after her. Do you know how much chaos her presence has caused down here? Gods aren’t bound to the same rules of morality as humans, how am I even meant to judge her? Where do I place her? She can’t be kept in the same afterlife as the mortals.”

“Well luckily, you won’t have to sort any of that out. I need you to lend me her soul for a while, as well as your powers.” Zeus spoke with a measured tone. He didn’t appreciate how his brother sounded like he was scolding him, but he would prefer that this didn’t escalate. His brothers were always better at calling his bluff then anyone else, and he while he didn’t care about smiting mortals or titans, he didn’t really want to have to strike any of his family. Anymore of his family, that is.

Hades tilted his head to the side, questioning. “What do you need my power for, brother?”

“I am going to bring her back. She has no right to avoid her punishment like this. It’s cowardly.” Zeus forced his face to remain neutral as he spoke. He didn’t know why he was still so upset at her, but he knew he was. Why else did he feel so horrible every time he thought about her lifeless body laying crumpled at his feet?

Hades grimaced but didn’t respond. He seemed to know better then to try and point out the stupidity in his brothers statement. He grunted as he got up from his chair, wincing as he stretched. Gods couldn’t get old—at least not in the way humans did, where their bodies seemed to wither around them—but Hades sure seemed like he did. He had eye-bags that only ever got bigger and tired quality to him that seemed permanent. Zeus often wondered if it was some odd side effect of dealing with the dead, or if his brother was just painfully overworked. Not like it mattered though, since Zeus didn’t plan on aiding him either way.

Zeus took the lead on the flight back to Olympus, eager to put his plan into action before Hera could have a chance to remove Athenas body. Prometheus had requested a reference, after all.

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Prometheus was waiting in the throne room once they arrived and Zeus summoned Ares and Hermes the moment Hades was settled. It only took them five minutes to arrive, but Zeus could sense they were on Olympus when he called for them, so they had likely been stalling.

Ares kneeled before Zeus as Hermes fluttered into the throne room behind him. “Yes, father?” Ares spat the word father out like it was an insult. He was one of the few who were more angry then fearful after what took place in the arena.

Hermes bowed next to his brother, he had never been one to kneel, touching the ground seemed antithetical to his very being. “At your service, father!” The upbeat tone his voice always held was badly strained.

“Come with me, we are going to be retrieving your sister. I grow tired of her bout of laziness.” His sons bristled at both his choice of words and the implication of them, but followed him to Apollo’s domain nonetheless. If nothing else, at least this whole fiasco had taught them all to follow his orders without question. That was good. Why did it hurt so much to see the pain and distrust in their eyes? Like they worried every time he called on them, they could be next?

Apollo jumped as Zeus opened the door to his infirmary. He turned to bow the moment he recognized who it was that had chosen to invade his sanctuary. “Father, what can I do for you?” Apollos voice was horse and his eyes were puffy from crying. The curtain to Athena’s bed was only party drawn. He had likely been crying over her, he spent a good bit of his free time doing that now.

“Nothing, child. We simply need to borrow one of your patients for a second.” Zeus walked over to where Athena laid and pulled back the drapes. He suppressed a wince at the sight, whereas Hermes and Ares openly grimaced. Her eyes were cloudy and rolled back in her head, flies pitching on the vulnerable organs. The wounds she had from the lightning were open and gaping, maggots squirming in a few of the more exposed ones. Her skin was both too pale and filled with unnatural colour, greens and yellows decorated her skin where unhealed bruises sat. Zeus wanted to claw his eyes out. She didn’t deserve this.

He cleared cleared his throat before he spoke. “Ares, Hermes, come and pick her up. We need to take over her to the throne room.”

Neither of them moved, torn between not wanting to upset the volatile king and not wanting to desecrate their sisters corpse further. “Now.“ Zeus snapped. They broke out of their trance instantly, scrambling to get over to Athena’s bed side.

Carefully, they picked her up. Her head lolled pitifully, and Ares adjusted his hold to support her unprompted, despite the extra care being unnecessary. As they moved her bugs dropped from her skin, the sheets she had been laying on were stained with dried ichor, rot, and writhing with maggots.

The walk back to the throne room was considerably slower then the walk from it, Ares and Hermes trying to balance supporting their sister and scorning the leaking wounds she was covered in. The few nymphs who were outside ran upon getting a glimpse of what was happening, darting off to go and find Hera or some other God to try and talk some sense into the king.

Zeus gestured for them to place her on a random spot on the floor once they made it back. Prometheus got up to examine her and winced. “This isn’t really a clear reference…” he railed off upon meeting eyes with the God king.

Zeus glared at him as he spoke. “Be glad I allowed you a reference at all. You worked with her on the creation of the mortals, you should be able to recreate her form from memory. My daughter is far from forgettable.” He growled the last sentence and Prometheus withered in response.

“You’re right, God king. My apologies.” Prometheus stuttered out as he dropped to the floor beside her body, summoning clay to start working.

Zeus left the titan to his work, intentionally neglecting to dismiss Ares or Hermes so that there would be someone present to supervise the fire God and his brother. He decided would return in an hour or so, that was more then enough time for Prometheus to have finished his sculpt and for his brother to have tied Athena’s soul to it.

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When he came back, he heard the sounds of hushed arguing, he cleared his throat and made the men in the room snap to attention. He approached the thing they were crowding around and nearly murdered the titan on the spot.

On the ground, curled in her own wings was Athena. Or, well, it resembled Athena. The child wasn’t even a full fledgling yet, it’s wings were spotted with bits of downy and were pathetically oversized. It couldn’t have been older then six or seven, her body was rounded out with baby fat, and it looked as if it wouldn’t even be able to hold a spear without assistance

Zeus grabbed Prometheus by the collar of his chiton and pulled out his thunderbolt. “Is this some sort of joke, titan? I entrust you with aiding my daughter and you mock her?”

Prometheus shivered in his hold and violently shook his head. “No! This is the best I- We could do, Zeus! I can’t bring her back to full strength, this is the oldest I could make her while still preserving her immortality!”

Hades intrupted Zeus’s response. “He’s right you know brother. Unless you want her to become mortal and simply die in a couple years anyway, then this-“ Hades gestured to his regressed niece. “-is all we could do.”

Zeus dropped Prometheus and walked over to his brother, still fuming. “Is that so?”

“It is. She will likely grow back up, brother. This is the best option we have.” Hades spoke calmly. He wasn’t particularly concerned about Zeus killing him. After all, his job was invaluable, and no one else wanted to do it.

Zeus’s thunderbolt crackled in his hand. He wanted to strike someone, or at the very least something. This wasn’t fair, Athena was supposed to be fine now, but she hardly even looked like herself. It was clear they barely tried.

He sheathed his bolt and turned to pick up his daughter. He would have Apollo look her over and ensure her new form wasn’t any more damaged then it already was. Then he would whip that useless titan till his spine broke.

Chapter Text

Hera had rushed back to Olympus the moment one of Artemis’s nymphs had called her. It had been in a panic, ranting about her husband, Hermes, Ares and other things she couldn’t make out past the poor things floundering. Hera let it lead her to Apollos infirmary, where Artemis and another one of her nymphs were trying to calm her panicking brother. It took about thirty minutes to calm him down, an act which was not aided by the nymph who fetched Hera having her own breakdown nearby.

Eventually, Hera was able to piece together more parts than not of Apollos rant, like the fact Athena had been moved. Admittedly, she hadn’t really needed to work out what Apollo was saying to figure that out. She had realized that instantly when the smell of rot was less overbearing today instead of more.

By the time Apollo had calmed down enough to explain who exactly had moved Athena—though Hera really could’ve guessed that one too—the panicking nymph had been calmed by Artemis enough to be able to continue the story where Apollos knowledge had left off.

“-and Prometheus was waiting inside with Hades!” The nymph stressed the two deities names as she recounted watching Ares and Hermes enter the throne room, her concern admittedly well founded. Zeus had been punishing Prometheus for a millennia, and Hades was only allowed on Olympus for the winter solstice. For them to have both been invited up for something was worrying to say the least.

Before Hera could conclude anything about the mismatched group of deities or what to do about their meeting, the door to the infirmary swung open with a powerful carelessness that could only belong to the God king. Apollo, Artemis, and her nymphs rushed to bow while Hera sat still, transfixed by Athena the child in Zeus’s arms.

Zeus ignored them as he walked to one of the infirmary beds, thankfully not the one Athena had been laid in. That one would likely have to be thrown away, rot had soaked it’s way into the mattress and there seemed to be a never ending trail of bugs crawling out of random nooks and crannies. Zeus placed the child down with a surprising amount of care before finally acknowledging the others in the room.

“You may rise.” Zeus waved his hand dismissively as he spoke. “Apollo, come and examine your sister, ensure she’s not injured. Alert me of where and how badly if she is, I have to go deal with some business.” Zeus turned turned to leave and Hera grabbed his arm.

“Zeus, what did you do? That’s not who I think it is, is it?” Hera hissed the last sentence under her breath. She normally would have yelled such an accusation, but the child was already stirring, and she didn’t want to wake them unnecessarily.

“Well, that would depend on who you think it is, now wouldn’t it Hera?” Zeus pulled his arm from her hold. His expression made it clear she needed to tread lightly, but she didn’t heed his warning.

“Is that Athena? Zeus what is wrong with you? What did you even do to her-“ Hera voice got louder as she spoke, distress coating her tone.

Zeus cut her off before she could ask another question. “I healed her. She’s perfectly fine, she would be better if certain people-“ Zeus’s gaze shifted to Apollo. “Did their jobs instead of handing them off to me.”

“That is what you call healing? Look at her Zeus! She looks like a child!” Hera had dropped her attempts at hushing herself, and was now getting dangerously close to yelling.

Athena shifted in response to the noise, wings ruffling. She whimpered something unintelligible that sounded uncannily like the names of her mortals.

Zeus tensed as she moved, surprisingly hushing his voice as he spoke again. “She’ll grow, Hera. Besides, none of this would have happened if she didn’t disrespect me. She can consider it a continuation of her punishment.” He turned to leave before she could stop him again, rushing out of the infirmary with the same lack of respect he used to enter.

Apollo hurried to Athena’s bedside, shaken out of his daze by his fathers departure. She roused partially as he looked over her frame, wincing in pain as Apollos examination exposed the lightning burns across her chest and right wing to the air. Apollos brow furrowed, her injuries shouldn’t have carried over to a new form—which he assumed this was, since her old one was far past the point of even being considered for spare parts—yet, here they were. He sorted through his cupboards, looking for his favorite burn salve so he could dress her wounds.

“Is she ok?” Hera asked hesitantly. She hovered nearby, her hands wrung together, as if she wanted to reach out but restrained herself out of respect.

Apollo hummed as he grabbed a salve, it wasn’t the one he had been thinking of, but he didn’t want to waste valuable time, even if her current injuries weren’t life threatening. He didn’t want to fail her again.

“She has injuries, but it’s nothing serious.” Apollo turned to ask his twin to fetch a couple bandages from the cupboard near her, only to find her missing. “Where did Artemis go?”

Hera looked around confused, as if she didn’t notice the huntresses’ exit until he mentioned it. “Huh, I don’t know. I didn’t hear her leave…”

Apollo shrugged, she was probably heading back to her forests, she tended to go there when she got overwhelmed. “Yeah, she does that a lot. She learnt to be quiet so she could hunt better and has been abusing that power since.” He attempted to joke to lighten the mood slightly.

Hera hummed before settling back down and claiming a seat, apparently intending on staying while Apollo worked.

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Athena’s eyelids fluttered open. Her body felt heavy, and her vision swam. She could make out the outline of grandstands complimenting a massive throne, the sound of people cheering drowned out her thoughts as she tried and failed to put a name to any of the figures in the smaller seats.

The floor of the arena suddenly spilt open, and the clouds concealing Olympus parted to a view of Ithaca. Athena tried to clear the fog from her eyes as she looked over the the Ithacan palace. The kingdom was being battered by rain and the ocean was rearing back threateningly. On cue with a crack of thunder, the waves charged forward and lashed out at the island, ripping costal homes straight from their foundations.

Athena winced at the sound of her fathers voice behind her. The suffocating smell of ozone forced her attention to shift from the dying kingdom to her king. He ranted madly—no one beats me! no one wins my game!—thunderbolt materializing in his hand. He spoke with the finality of a judge giving out a death sentence—I’m the judgment call, the one who makes her kingdom fall!—and she tensed, body taut like a bowstring with the nervous energy of anticipation.

She shivered as she heard the snap of the bolt being released, she closed her eyes but stayed firmly rooted in place, ready to take her punishment. The telltale whip of lightning finding its mark sounded off and Athena twisted in a panic, trying to find where it had landed if not on her—and her eyes fell on the exposed kingdom behind her.

Athena gasped as the kingdom burnt. The single bolt had shattered on impact—it hit the palace directly and she could hear the screams of Penelope and Telemachus both—pieces of it jumping and ripping into trees, homes, and temples Odysseus had built in her name. It left the kingdom unrecognizable when it was done.

A familiar set of boats pulled up to the kingdoms dock, the only thing left unmarred by the attack. A man jumped off it, landing in the shallows of the water on his hands and knees, unwilling to wait for his crew to put out a platform to walk on. He ran into the ruined city, despair clear on his face. He collapsed on the stairs of the palace, and let out a gut wrenching keen. He clawed at his hair and looked to sky to pray, before his eyes instantly locked onto Athena through the gaps in the clouds. His expression changed to one of fury and betrayal, and he stumbled to his feet.

“You. You did this! You abandon me and then come back to pawn your punishment off on my family?! You’re worse than selfish, you’re cruel!” Odysseus screamed at her through his tears, ignorant to the second bolt forming behind him, readying to punish him for his blasphemy. She tried desperately to call out and warn him, to say sorry, to do anything, but all she could manage was a pathetic whimper as the bolt tore him apart.

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Aphrodite combed her fingers through her step-sisters hair as her family discussed what to do about the shrunken Goddess. Athena twitched violently, and Aphrodite pulled back, worried she’d accidentally irritated some hidden injury.

“Ody-odysseus-“ Athena whimpered, wings flapping uselessly.

Her sobs drew the attention of the other Gods, conversation quickly hushing as Apollo rushed over to check her bandages. He quickly concluded the sudden distress was unrelated to any of her burns reopening, and started to gently shake her awake.

Athena, ever the light sleeper, woke almost instantly, blinking rapidly to clear any lingering sleep from her vision. She scanned the room, sharp grey eyes causing anyone they landed on to go rigid. She sat up lethargically before snapping to attention.

She looked around in a panic, the small bout of awareness she seemed to have had mere seconds ago no where to be found. Tears gathered in the corners of her eyes unexpectedly, and the other Gods tensed as one—Athena was crying, Pallas Athene was crying—as she spoke again.

“Odysseus?” She called out to the room, eyes wide and unseeing. She voice was uncharacteristically quiet and shaky. It was childish, really, almost as if her voice had decided to mimic her new form.

She whimpered again at the lack of an answer, shivering as she pulled the blanket closer to her. Tears fell down her face unabashedly as she gasped for air in between increasingly violent sobs.

Hera seemed to be the first to snap out of her shock, walking up to Athena’s bed with unwarranted confidence. “It’s ok sweetheart, your mortal is just fine.” She placed a hand on Athena's leg as she spoke and brushed a strand of hair out of the poor Goddesses face.

Athena leaned into the touch, and Hera took it as an invitation to pull her closer, moving to sit on the edge of her bed. Hera hugged her loosely, not wanting to startle her. Athena nestled further into her step-mothers arms, desperate for comfort as she sobbed out other names.

“Pen-penelope, Telemachus?” The names were spoken like questions this time, and instead of Hera, Ares rose to offer comfort.

“They’re both fine as well sister. Father released your mortal, and I ensured he got home despite Poseidon's meddling. He dealt with the plague in his castle weeks ago.” Ares shuffled on his feet as he spoke, shifting his spear in his hands awkwardly. He was never much good at comforting, but he knew he would be even worse at comforting Athena. She had never so much as winced before, even in their worst spars where they both came out decorated in stab wounds and drenched in ichor, she stood tall and unbothered. Just seeing her in a lesser form was odd, since she was not only his older sibling, but had also never been a child to begin with.

Artemis cut in once he finished. “Apollo and I blessed Odysseus during the battle with the suitors, sister. I knew he wouldn’t need help to shoot through the axes, but we figured it couldn’t hurt if he got a little push during the actual fight.”

Athena calmed some once they finished talking, nuzzling closer to Heras chest and letting out a shaky sigh. Hera went stiff as a tingle traveled up her spine. Zeus was summoning her. She halfheartedly wondered how bad it would be if she ignored him, but figured he’d probably just come looking for her in that case, which would likely distress poor Athena. She really wasn’t a fan of having to leave her though, she was clearly in need of comfort and Hera leaving could upset her further.

Hera sighed, pulling Athena away from her just enough to see her face. The Goddess had, at some point, popped her thumb in her mouth and started to suckle. Well that’s concerning. Clearly whatever nonsense Zeus pulled fried the poor girls brain. I wonder who he’s going to harass at all hours of the day for diplomatic advice now that he’s turned the Goddess of wisdom into an invalid. Hera thought.

She shook her head slightly to dislodge any other forming insults. She needed to be better. Divine or not, kids needed parents, and Zeus was clearly unable to be that for any of them.

“Athena, sweetheart, I need to leave for a second, but I promise I’ll be back. Alright?” Athena whimpered but didn’t fight as Hera got up. Aphrodite took the initiative to switch places with Hera as she walked out, pulling Athena close much less hesitantly then the God queen had. Athena welcomed the cuddling the same way she had with Hera, burying herself in Aphrodites overly flowy, ornate robes that she used to scorn as impractical.

Dionysius broke the newfound silence first. “Damn, Zeus really fucked her up bad, huh? Careful ‘Dite, she might try to breastfeed if you hold her too close!” His chuckling was cut off by Artemis slapping him firmly upside the head.

“You’re not funny drunkard. Can’t you see this is serious?” She scolded.

“I can, and I for one, am seriously concerned about baby brain over here imprinting on her. Owls do do that, don’t they?” He asked with over exaggerated worry.

Artemis’s glare prompted him to hold up his hands in mock surrender. “Calm down love, you know I’m worried too! I wouldn’t be spending time in this depressing place if I wasn’t. I mean fates, Athena’s old bed hasn’t even been cleaned off yet.”

That last sentence made Apollo wince guilty, Artemis stepped on Dionysus’s foot before stalking off to the soiled bed to do just that.

Hermes flew over to sit with Aphrodite and Athena, softening his wings loud flittering slightly so as to not startle the latter of the two. Athena had dozed back off at some point, and Hermes took the opportunity to preen her, carefully avoiding any damaged feathers while loosening pins and brushing down the covert feathers she ruffled during her earlier thrashing.

Hephaestus and Ares were chatting by the back of the infirmary, Hephaestus in a seat Ares had pulled up for him and Ares himself leaned against a wall.

The atmosphere of the med bay was calm, despite the circumstances. At least, until the door creaked open again in less than thirty minutes. Hera walked back in, a look of concern and apprehension on her face. She held the door open behind her, allowing her husband to join her inside. Everyone in the room quieted instinctively as the God king entered. Aphrodite’s hold on Athena tightened imperceptibly as Zeus walked over to them. He craned his neck down to look at her and scowled.

“Why is she doing that?” He gestured to where Athena had switched out her thumb for the wing Hermes had finished cleaning, nursing happily on her feathered appendage. Aphrodites hold tightened again, this time very perceptibly, judging by how Zeus’s eyes narrowed at her in response.

“She’s probably just in pain and trying to self-soothe, father.” Apollo responded.

Surprisingly, Zeus’s gaze softened at that. He turned to face Apollo properly before speaking again. “She’s injured then? Didn’t I tell you to inform me if that was the case?” There was an odd lack of bite to his words, despite the implication of anger in the ones he chose.

Apollo nodded, eyes locked on the floor. His father didn’t sound angry, but he wasn’t about to take his chances. “Sorry father. I was confused about the presence of the injuries in the first place, and as such I got distracted with trying to find a source for them and forgot to tell you.”

Zeus hummed and turned back to Athena. “Where are said injuries?”

“Under her right wing and across her chest. They’re an identical pattern to the ones she gained in the arena, though far less extensive.” Apollo moved to lift Athena’s wing and show him, but she roused partly at the movement and pulled her wing back in. “Sorry Athena, I just wanted to look at the injury under your wing for a second. I promise it won’t hurt.”

“Why are you speaking to her as if she’s a child?” Zeus snapped.

Athena whimpered in response to his sudden outburst, curling in on herself more. “Father… ‘m sorry, please…” Aphrodite leaned down to whisper soothing reassurances in her ear, trying to lull her back into a more complete sleep.

Zeus looked conflicted about having scared her, and calmed his tone a bit before he spoke to Apollo again, seemingly deciding to drop the topic. “Will they heal?”

Apollo nodded happily at the question, smiling for the first time since the arena. “Most definitely. They’re already scabbed over, so there’s no real risk of infection unless they re-open. She should even be able to fly again! Well, if she loses a couple more of her downy feathers, that is.”

Zeus scanned over Athena’s trembling body once more before he turned to leave. “Keep me updated properly this time Apollo. The rest of you, be sure to behave yourselves.” He said as he exited almost as abruptly as he entered.

Athena fell back asleep as soon as the smell of ozone followed him out.

Chapter Text

Apollo mixed a bit of extra oregano into the salves Asclepius had made hours ago for Athena’s burns. He would still have to deal with portioning once he was done editing the mix to his tastes, both of which were fairly time consuming jobs. It would be time to change his sisters bandages soon, and normally he would have finished the preparations for such a task at least thirty minutes ago. Unfortunately, his focus was hindered by his—frankly, overbearing—little brother.

“Are you sure you need that much?” Ares scoffed as he hovered over Apollos shoulder. He’d been trying to mask his concern for Athena with annoyance and scorn since she had woken up an couple of hours ago sobbing and calling out for mortals. It was clear he was terrified, but he was also stubborn as an ox—so if he could find way to voice his worries without stating them directly, he would do it.

“I am the medic, brother, not you. You deal to the bloodshed and I will deal with the balms.” Apollo didn’t bother to look at him as he dismissed his fretting. They’d gone though this song and dance enough times just this past hour that Ares knew all his potential responses.

Ares grumbled but relented, he shifted to be able to look at Athena and Hera from where he stood, apparently content to simply watch as they slept. He tensed suddenly, drawing Apollos attention. Athena had started shivering, her little hands griping tighter on her resting step-mothers arm. Another nightmare.

Apollo debated simply waiting it out, instead of waking her like earlier. Athena needed to sleep, regardless of if it was a fitful one, and while waking her up had allowed her to fall asleep to more comforting dreams last time, there was no guarantee it would work again. He was jolted out of his musing by the sounds of whimpering and choked sobs, Athena’s wings fluttering despairingly at her sides.

The sound of the small Goddess fussing woke Hera, and she rushed to tiredly soothe her. She carded her finger through her feathers, the action both serving to calm her step-daughter and lightly restrain her wings so she didn’t injure them in her panic. Athena relaxed under the God queens attention, sobs quickly turning to occasional sniffles.

“You’re good at that.” Apollo commented absentmindedly, turning back to finish his ointment before Ares could find an opening to distract him again.

Hera chuckled, “I would hope so, I am a mother after all.” Her voice was coated with a surprising level of mirth. While Apollo was well aware she leaped at any chance to speak about her sons, she had never spoken to him causally. She would have taken that thoughtless statement as an insult just a few moons prior, but now she was laughing as if he’d told a good joke.

Heras laughter halted as her brow furrowed, abruptly, she winced. “Oh, sweetheart…” She trailed off as she got up, taking a few seconds to steady herself as the remnants of sleep washed over her. “Apollo, where do you keep your extra sheets? Athena seems to have had a bit of an accident.”

Apollo automatically waved her over to one of the identical cupboards that decorated the medical wing, before turning to look at his step mother, once again abandoning his concoction. “What do you mean an accident?”

Ares mimicked his confusion, panic tracing his features ever so slightly. Hera pulled out a set of blankets from the bottom shelves and strode back over to Athena’s bedside, closing back the cupboards with a swish of her tail feathers.

“I mean she wet herself. It seems like her nightmares are a bit more like night terrors.” Hera stressed. “Do you think you can have Asclepius whip something up to help her sleep better?”

Hera questioned as she set down the sheet on an untouched corner of the bed and picked Athena up. She beckoned Ares over to them and thrust Athena into his arms before he could protest. She swapped out the sheets quickly, the thick woolen mattress cover thankfully had held up against the minor flood it had suffered, saving Apollo from having to fetch his disinfectants and rags to attempt a more thorough cleaning.

Hera took Athena back from her son quickly, much to Ares’s relief. He was horrible at holding children, he let her head loll off the side of his arms like she was a doll—why he was so inept at it was anyones guess, since he knew quite well how to hold soldiers who were injured in battle, and it would be obvious to anyone that the core principles would be the same.

Apollo retrieved a fresh set of clothes from one of his various cabinets and handed them over to Hera, who was now trying to get Athena to doze off fully again. Fates, if this is how fussy Athena would have been as a baby, Zeus should grateful she just crawled out his skull fully grown instead.

Hera had Apollo and Ares turn around as she changed Athena’s clothes. Her order to Ares Apollo could understand, but having to undress patients was fairly common for larger injuries or longer stays, and he had cared for women before, so in all honesty he was kind of offended she had ordered him to do the same as his brother.

Athena’s woke fully as Hera finished changing her, the glassy look that had been in her eyes last time noticeably absent this time around. “W-where am I?”

Athena’s pupils dilated as they tried to adjust to the low light. Normally the infirmary would at least have evening levels of light, but Apollo suspected Athena’s childish demeanor could have been the result of a brain injury, so he had the lights dimmed aggressively.

“You’re in the infirmary, sister.” There was barely contained joy in Ares’s voice, and his relief over her sudden increase in mental age was palpable.

Athena pushed Hera hands off of her weakly as she shuffled to the edge of her bed. “No… No, I can’t be here, I need… I need to check on them.” She seemed to be having a hard time grasping any particular train of thought, and Apollo winced as he mentally filed away the symptom for later.

“You can’t leave Athena, you’re injured.” Apollo simplified ‘you’ve been turned into a child and we have no idea what to do about it’ into something that would hopefully make her panic less. “Your mortals are fine, all of them. They’ve been safe for weeks.”

Apollos statements didn’t seem to register to her, and she continued trying to make her way off of her cot much to the concern of Hera. “I need to check on them… I… Penelope’s not safe, I just need to look for a second…”

Hera forced her to lay back down as she ranted about suitors and needing to keep them away, apparently oblivious to the fact she was half the size of any full grown human. Ares twitched slightly, clearly wanting to aid her but unsure of what that would entail. He perked up swiftly, summoning his rarely used wings and shaking them out.

“I’m going to leave for a bit, alright? I’ll be back soon.” He whispered to Apollo. The healer nodded, confused as to what could’ve suddenly become so important, but not focused on him enough to be able to stop him.

Ares left the infirmary and took to the air before he was even five feet away from the door.

___________________________________________________

It had become early morning by the time Ares landed at the steps of the Ithacan palace, he had switched to his bird form a while before he had come into view of the mortal kingdom, not wanting to draw unnecessary attention. He circled the palace a few times before he found a balcony that looked vaguely grander than the rest, and under the shaky assumption it was the one connected to the royal bedroom, dove to it.

Ares soared into the bedchamber, screeching as he landed on a loom. The couple in the bed jumped as they woke. They got untangled from their sheets and kneeled, the man wore a look of annoyance rather than reverence, in contrast to the woman’s shock and hesitant girlish excitement at being faced with a patron God of her city.

“Lord Ares, what may we do for you?” The man spoke. His voice was tired, though not from sleep. It seemed as if the very presence of a God drained him.

Ares ruffled his wings and shifted forms, he doubted these mortals could speak vulture after all, and from the man’s reaction to him, he probably wouldn't appreciate Ares entering his head to speak to him. “Rise, mortals. You are not in trouble.”

They got up carefully, pulling themselves up using their bed. The slight struggle they had getting off their knees was a testament to their age.

The woman spoke first. “Then, if I may be so bold—what are you here for, my lord?”

“I need a favor, human. Your names are Penelope and Odysseus, correct?” Ares recognized them both, of course. It was hard to forget the man who had stabbed Poseidon half to death, or the woman who single-handedly held off over a hundred men for twenty years. He just figured that would be a good way to start the conversation.

“That’s us.” Odysseus replied, decidedly curt in his response. Ares wondered if he hadn't realized aid the war God had provided him just a few weeks ago, or if he simply didn’t care.

“Go and fetch your son, as well as something that can provide proof of your identities, preferably something you wouldn’t mind parting with.” Ares ordered.

Penelope turned to leave to room, running off to an area down the hall that ares could only assume would lead to her son. Odysseus begrudgingly rifled through their nightstands, grumbling to himself about Gods who lacked boundaries. Ares pointedly ignored him.

Penelope returned with a beardless youth, the young man shifted on his feet from where he stood. He carried a bag with him and nervously fiddled with the clasps as he awaited an order.

“You’re Telemachus?” Ares asked. He looked the man up and down. Why had his sister taken an interest in him? He was by no means hopeless, Ares had seen men smaller and leaner than him do well in wars before, but he clearly wasn’t a prodigy.

“Yes, my lord.” Telemachus undid and redid the buckle on his bag as he spoke. “You didn’t say whether I should carry something to prove myself too, but I figured I would bring a couple of things just in case…”

“Good, I was about to ask you that.” Ares turned back to Odysseus, annoyed by how long he was taking to complete the simple task. “Are you nearly done, mortal?”

Odysseus cursed under his breath before he replied. “Well your request wasn’t very clear. Why would we need to part with what we use for identification?”

“It’s being gifted to someone.” Ares stated simply. He was getting very close to smiting this insolent man. He was pretty sure that would upset Athena, though.

“Gifted to whom?” Penelope asked before her husband could, Odysseus’s mouth clicked shut as the same question died on his tongue.

“To my sister. Athena has been a tad inconsolable about you three, she seems to still think the suitors are a problem, no matter how much we assure her that isn’t the case.” Ares grit his teeth as he replied. These mortals were doing a whole lot of asking instead of doing.

That seemed to make Telemachus snap to attention, all previous nerves forgotten. “Athena? Is she ok? I haven’t noticed her presence in weeks!”

The young man’s reaction seemed to confuse both his parents, Odysseus’s head nearly ripped off its perch at his shoulders as he turned to face his son. “How do you know Athena?”

“She came to me a few days before you got home, I was losing a fight to one of the suitors and she helped me not get my teeth kicked in.” He chuckled as he recalled the memory. “When I asked her why she came to my aid she said she felt guilty for leaving an old friend and thought helping me would give her peace, I told her it was never too late to try and fix things with them, and she thanked me. I figured she was just helping her friend for a while, but I have no idea why it would take her this long to get back.” He went back to worrying at the clasps of his bag as he spoke.

Odysseus seemed conflicted at that, a mix of fury and longing ghosted over his scarred face as he turned back to Ares. “Why doesn’t she just visit herself, if she’s so worried?”

Ares huffed. “If she could, don’t you think she would’ve by now, mortal? She’s not in any state to running around down here.” Ares hesitated before he continued. Athena seemed to trust these people, so he figured they were entitled a more complete explanation, if only because they were the only people in a few millennia to be able to break down his sisters walls.

“She… passed, probably right around the time you stopped noticing her, honestly. She was likely monitoring you constantly, we have the ability to watch multiple mortals at once, after all. She was recently revived in a way, but she’s not at full strength yet, so she can’t check on you herself.” Ares finished uncertainly.

Panic washed over the three mortals in front of him, expressed in various yet equally extreme ways, at least in Ares opinion. “She’s dead? What do you mean she’s dead? God don’t die!” Telemachus nearly screamed.

Ares winced, maybe he shouldn’t have told them. They were going to end up alerting the whole kingdom of Athena’s condition at this rate. “I said she was dead. Calm yourself.”

“That’s hardly any better!” Penelope grabbed her sons forearm as he sobbed out the reply, attempting to ground him.

“Can you elaborate please? How did she die?” Odysseus stepped forward slightly as he asked.

Ares groaned, this was taking much longer then he envisioned. “Our father didn’t take kindly to her requesting your release, mortal. A couple well placed lightning bolts later, and the underworld had a new, very indignant tenant.” He was starting to sound worryingly like Dionysus. In his defense though, these mortals deserved the rejoinders. “Like I said, she’s fine now. Just a lot smaller and a bit more confused.”

Odysseus opened his mouth to ask another question, looking increasingly distressed, but Ares banged the end of his spear into the floor to shut him up. “I am not here to answer your endless questions, human! Give me proof of your safety and I’ll be on my way.” Ares gripped his spear hard enough to visibly warp it.

Odysseus opened and closed his mouth a few times before hurrying back to his night stand. He grabbed a sliver olive brooch and a sash as Telemachus broke out of his mothers hold to look though his bag. He eventually found what he was looking for, and promptly pulled out an owl carving.

The young man handed his gift to Ares first. “This is a carving I started making for her after we first met. I never got to show it to her, but she’s seen my other works so she should recognize the craftsmanship.”

Ares tucked it into a pocket covered by his chlamys as Odysseus approached with his offerings. “This is one of Penny’s favorite sash’s and a brooch Athena gave me before the war. She should recognize them.”

He handed them off warily, carful to not touch the God’s hand as he passed them over.

Ares nodded, acknowledging the explanations they gave. As he turned to leave, the young man caught the end of his chiton. Telemachus panicked after realizing he’d just grabbed at a God, pulling his hand back as if the cloth had burnt him. “Sorry! I just, uh, can you tell us more about how she’s doing? Later, I mean.”

Ares huffed. “I am not a messenger, kid.” Upon seeing how the young man wilted at that, he amended his statement slightly. “I’m not a messenger, but I will send one to you. I’m sure Hermes wouldn’t mind an excuse to visit his descendants.”

Telemachus brightened instantly, bowing in thanks and reverence as Ares transformed and flew off.

___________________________________________________

Athena’s eyes opened to sun gently filtering through one of the infirmary windows. She shifted uncomfortably, pulling one of her wings out from where it was pinned under her. Her eyes glanced over the room, Ares was asleep in a chair next to her. She winced as she tried to sit up. Her brain was coated in a thick, unpleasant layer of fog, and her chest ached. She rubbed at her eyes as she felt tears gather, she couldn’t cry right now, she wasn’t in the privacy of her palace.

She had something she needed to do, someone she needed to check on. Ithaca. Right. Penelope was alone right now, wasn’t she? Her little wolf should be in Sparta by now, and Odysseus should be on the sea. She needed to check on Penelope.

She tried to move to the edge of the bed and whimpered as a shock of pain traveled over her whole body. As Athena was forced to lay back down, she let her eyes wander around the infirmary again, before they snagged on something that she had missed before. Sitting on her nightstand was a trio of items she recognized instantly.

Her handed reached out to brush over the delicate owl carving. It was finished now, she noted. The last time she saw her little wolf working on it—though he hadn't noticed her watching—it was still only half finished. He had forgotten his carving tools back in Ithaca when he had set out for Pylos, so it being finished meant he had returned home now. When had he gotten home…?

She gasped lightly as the presence of sliver broach and its implications set in alongside the owl’s, Odysseus was home. They were safe. She grabbed the trinkets from the table, struggling to pin the brooch to her pillow. She pulled Penelope’s sash close to her, cuddling it and the owl.

Athena sighed, relaxing completely for the first time since she had awoken.

Chapter Text

The Gods slowly bled into the council chamber, predictably tardy. The lesser gods of the world had learnt long ago to set the time for any of their requested hearings at least an hour before they actually hoped to start, since the majority of the Olympians seemed to have an addiction to arriving everywhere fashionably late.

Adonis tapped his nails onto the armrest of the guest throne rhythmically, annoyance seeping into his expression as they waited for Zeus to show. Even Aphrodite had been here for a few minutes, and she normally waited until just before The God king entered to waltz in.

“I told you we should have asked for one o’clock instead of two. Three hours is the standard buffer time nowadays.” Plutus hissed.

Adonis scoffed. “You’re being even more of a bitch than normal, you know that?”

Plutus opened his mouth to bite back at him right as the door to the hall snapped open. Zeus strode in, sacred eagle perched on his shoulder, it’s feathered chest puffed out in pride. He lowered himself onto his throne, leaning back onto the lavish carved marble with a bored look on his face. The eagle on his shoulder screeched, silencing anyone who had dared to continue their aimless chatter as the God king entered.

Zeus cleared his throat. “State your issue now, we haven’t got all day.”

“Where’s Athena? We requested someone judge the issue for us, she is required just as much as you.” Plutus snapped.

“You will deal with whoever’s here, Plutus. You are not entitled to the attention of any Olympian. Be glad the rest of us bothered to come hear out your petty nonsense.” Zeus thundered. His voice carried through the entirety of the hall with deafening power, his constant residual anger fueled by the deity’s hubris.

Zeus hadn’t allowed Athena’s death to be announced when it took place weeks ago, and he certainly wasn’t going to announce her weaker state now. The minor gods could make due with what was left of them, or they could deal with their problems independently.

Plutus shut up instantly, paling slightly in the face of the God kings fury. “My apologies king, I forgot myself.”

Adonis looked smug as he took over from the terrified God. “We’re having a dispute over the rights of a mortal, God king. His name is Adamantios, and I gifted him my favor weeks ago due to his desire to be with a certain young lady from his village. Plutus helped him gather the funds to pay the girls dowry, and now he wants to murder the poor boy for no reason!”

“I wish to smite him for snubbing me! He has yet to offer a single sacrifice in thanks for my aid!” Plutus growled.

“He was only married last night! You cannot blame the man for forgetting to worship a deity who barely helped him while his mind is enamored by new love!” Adonis gripped onto his armrests so hard they started to crack, gritting his teeth as he spoke.

“Barely helped him? He wouldn’t have been able to pay even half the dowry without my favor!” Plutus snarled, throwing knife materializing in his hand at the other God’s insult.

“And it would have been five times that cost had I not stoked the girls feelings for him! You don’t get to cheat me out of a worshiper because he didn’t fall to his knees and praise you instantly!” Adonis bit back.

Zeus slammed his fist on against his thrones armrest, the edges of it splintering off in response. His eagle panicked from the noise and took to the air, hovering for a second before it decided there was no real danger.

“Cease your bickering.” He sighed and relaxed back into his throne as the feuding Gods stuttered out rushed apologies. He held his hand up to silence them before he spoke again. “Well, what do you all think of this?” Zeus asked, rolling his eyes as he turned to face the other eight Olympians in the room.

“I believe Plutus should be given the free will to punish the man and the woman however he sees fit. He was clearly snubbed, no woman should be so beautiful a man forgets about the Gods when with her.” Poseidons sounded bored, head resting against one hand as he gave his opinion.

“Well I don’t think Plutus was insulted at all! He was worshiping by appreciating the gift he was given and indulging with his wife. Nothing shameful about that.” Dionysus rebuffed.

Aphrodite cut in before Poseidon could respond. “I have to say I agree, you can’t fault the boy for simply loving his wife.” She absentmindedly twirled her hair around her finger as she spoke.

“Well I think-“ Zeus groaned as his children and brother joined in with the lesser deities bickering. This was going no where. Athena could have sorted this out by. Now. She was always excellent at handling these sorts of disputes, she would have made everyone happy in not even half the time Plutus and Adonis’s argument had taken. Moments like this made him miss her.

___________________________________________________

Hermes hummed as he carefully flipped the lock on the infirmary door. His face was pressed up against the stained glass of a window near the entrance, while he maneuvered a stick through the gap Apollo had left in it for air. He zipped around to the door way as the lock gave out, entering as quietly as possible while still banging into shelves.

“Oh sister! Your beloved brother has come to visit you!” Hermes chirped as he flittered over to her bedside.

Athena sat up and rubbed her eyes, hand still gripping Penelope’s sash. “Hermes?” She tilted her head, blinking rapidly as if trying to dispel a hallucination.

“In the flesh! How are you darling?” Hermes said, leaning in.

“I- I uhm…. I need to check on them…” Athena said, looking around dazedly.

Hermes sighed. “Your mortals are fine, remember, Athena?” He said undoing the brooch he recognized as his grandsons to wave in front of her like a rattle.

Athena reached for it, wings flapping in uselessly at her back at she tried in vain to reach her brother. Hermes chuckled before tossing it to her. She badly missed, brooch hitting her in the face instead of landing in her arms. She was unbothered by this though, cooing happily as she grabbed the pin from her lap.

“Gasp! You know what? I just had the best idea!” Hermes twirled above her, positioning himself below one of Apollos lanterns, before lighting it with a snap of his fingers while he mimicked an epiphany.

“Did you just… Say gasp instead of actually gasping?” Athena asked, incredulous in a way that reminded Hermes of her pre-death self.

“I know you must be tired of being cooped up in here, and you want to see Odysseus right? Why don’t we kill two birds with one stone, darling?” Hermes waved his hand as he spoke, gesturing wildly as he ignored her questioning.

“Y-yeah…” Athena’s eyes drifted back to the brooch at the mention of it’s owner.

“So, how about your big brother—“ Hermes continued as she tried to correct him. “—helps you out? I’m sure Ody wouldn’t mind if we popped in for a visit!”

She perked up at that, wings fluttering slightly as she became just the slightest bit more aware. “You’ll bring me to see them?” Her voice steadied, the tired drawl it carried till then no where to be seen.

“Of course! So you want to go then?” Hermes cocked his head to the side as he spoke.

“Mhm!” Athena turned to the pillow end of the bed and felt through the blankets for Telemachus’s carving, sucking on her thumb idly as she gathered the Ithacans gifts.

She offered them to Hermes, who readily deposited the trinkets into his messenger bag. He scooped her up with one hand, before adjusting his hold in response to her squirming. He flittered back out the way came, paying slightly more attention to avoiding the shelves this time around.

___________________________________________________

Telemachus groaned and stood up, stretching before throwing himself on his parents bed in dramatic frustration as Odysseus chuckled. “I’m never gonna win against you, am I?”

“Well not with that attitude, you aren’t.” Odysseus teased as he reset the petteia board.

Penelope smiled at them, watching them banter like they had know each other for years. She winced as her embroidery needle pricked her finger, before licking the blood off her bleeding digit. Odysseus whipped around at the sound of her cursing, panic distorting his features.

“It’s alright love, I just nicked my finger.” Penelope brushed her husbands shoulder with her uninjured hand as she stepped over their game to reach the nightstand next to Telemachus, pulling out a strap of cloth to wrap around the tiny wound.

Odysseus opened his mouth to respond, mouth twisted into a slight frown and brows nit together in worry, before being cut off by the sound of Penelope’s loom crashing to the ground.

Telemachus shot up from his melodramatic lounge to stare at the winged man currently dusting off the splinters of wood he broke from the loom in his landing. Odysseus jumped in sync with his son, grabbing his sword from where it was leaned against a bedpost, stepping in front of his kin as he brandished the weapon.

The man laughed, causing Odysseus to relax automatically, blade lowering without thought as a look of recognition crossed his face. “Hermes?” His voice betrayed delighted confusion as he sheathed his sword, still keeping it close despite his joy.

“The one and only! How are you, old friend?” Hermes took to the air as quickly as he had crashed, hovering above the mess he made as he scanned the room of perplexed mortals with amusement.

“I’m… good? Why are you here?” Odysseus delight turned to wariness as he studied Hermes, eyes scrutinizing the god as he searched for some problem to explain his presence.

“Oh what, I can’t visit unless there’s a disaster taking place? I’m hurt, Ody, here I thought we were friends.” The messenger pouted childishly, lazily floating over the kings head to look down on his family.

“Father, what…?” Telemachus let the question trail off as he stared at the deity wide-eyed. He’d met holy beings before—really just one, or actually two if you count the short, uncomfortable interaction he had with ares—but the man so different from his only other proper reference point it was hard to believe they were meant to be the same species.

Athena had appeared to him in full battle armor, only removing her helmet when she spoke to him after his fight with the Antinous. She had only one pair of wings which sat proud on her back, with nymph-like scales that reminded him of his mother decorating her cheekbones and her nape. He was fairly certain her hair was a slow transition from normal ginger curls to snakes who peaked out from her braid. Though he may have been delirious from his first time being punched.

Hermes’s—as his father had called him—wings were small but plentiful, pure white wings fluttered at the back of his sandals, shoulders, lower back and behind his ears. Rather than the scales Telemachus’s mentor modeled, this god had a grand neck ruff of rooster feathers. Brilliant reds, blues, and turquoises cascaded down his shoulders, kept in balance by the rich, calming chestnut of his locks. The only thing that was mimicked between them was the scales on their cheeks, though at a second glance, the prince realized Hermes’s were more akin to the segments of a tortoise shell than a snake.

The vibrant god reached out a hand to him, offering a greeting. Telemachus accepted hesitantly, shaking the man’s hand with all the reverence of an awe struck worshiper.

“How rude of me, my name’s Hermes, young prince! Herald of the gods, you may have heard of me?” Hermes giggled, turning to greet the much less startled Penelope.

The queen took his hand and bowed her head slightly, also most as accustomed to gods as her husband, due to her divine parentage. “Lord Hermes, to what do we owe the pleasure?”

Hermes laughed again, an ethereal, echoey thing that was getting to be quite grating if Telemachus was honest—before pulling out a child from some random hidden pocket under his cloak.

“I heard Ares came and chatted with you folks, so I’m sure you’re aware of your patrons condition.” He said, thrusting the girl into Odysseus’s arms. “She’s been closer to Dionysus than herself recently—if you get me—and I figured a play date could help!”

Odysseus nearly dropped her as she struggled uncomfortably in his hold. He moved over to the bed so if he dropped her it wouldn’t hurt, before inhaling sharply as he got a better look at her face.

“Athena?” Odysseus breathed. She snapped to attention at his voice, the glazed over, mildly annoyed look on her face brought on by being shoved into Hermes bag dissolved as she fought for a scrap of awareness against the ever-present fog of her new form.

“Odysseus!” She chirped, grabbing onto his chiton as she rambled apologies.

“Hermes! What in the name of Hades….” Odysseus turned to where Hermes had been floating a second ago, only to be faced with empty air. “Hermes?”

As Odysseus looked around wildly for any sign of the god, Telemachus approached the still mumbling Athena with caution.

“Athena? Is that really you?” She turned her attention from the panicked king—who had now started yelling for the messenger—to the prince.

“Little wolf! How do you fair?” She asked, tilting her head to the side in a distinctly owl like fashion, earlier apologies forgot in seconds, her attention span matching her size.

“I- uh, I’m good ‘Thena! Are you ok?” Telemachus asked hesitantly. Asking questions to Ares had annoyed him enough for him to crack the tiles of his parents bedroom with his spear, and though he doubted Athena would as angry as her brother, he still chose to take some extra care when questioning the goddess.

She tilted her head farther, considering him. “Of course. We wouldn’t I be?”

Telemachus shifted on his feet, uncomfortable. Either she really didn’t know, which was… concerning, to say the least. Or she was playing dumb to bait him into giving her a reason to be mad. He’d gone through that song and dance before, whenever Antinous wanted an excuse to beat him. “Because you look like a child?”

Athena blinked at him before looking down at her hands. She turned them over, staring at herself with wide eyes as she finally noticed her new form. Tears gathered in her eyes as she examined herself, whimpering as she took in the sight of her downy covered wings.

Telemachus winced as he watched her grow more distressed. While she had tolerated physical affection from him before, it was never clear if she enjoyed it. He made a spilt second decision and pulled her into a hug, if she reacted poorly, he could always let go. She gripped onto his chiton like it was a life-line, burying her face in his chest. He rubbed her back, trying to mimic the motions his mother would do when he cried as a little kid.

Odysseus seemed to have finally stopped cursing the messenger god, and instead looked over warily at the goddess clinging to his son. He cleared his throat, grabbing Telemachus’s attention. ‘Is she ok?’ He mouthed out, rather than spoke.

His son gave a tiny helpless shrug, still cradling the wisdom goddess. ‘How am I supposed to know???’ He mouthed in response, snapping slightly from his worry.

Odysseus opened his mouth to reply before being swiftly cut off.

“Well it’s around lunch time now. Why don’t I get us all something to eat?” Penelope asked, cutting through the two mens rising panic with practiced ease. “I’m sure we’ll all feel better once we have something to snack on.” She continued, eyes drifting to where Athena was still sobbing in her sons arms.

“That sounds like a great idea, beloved.” Odysseus let out a relived sigh as she placed a hand on his bicep, glad to have the steady, calm support of his wife back after being without her for so many years. They’d sort everything out.

Everything would be fine.