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King

Summary:

Apollo reminded Zeus of Leto.

Apollo reminded him of Hera.

He was too much like them.
He had to be punished. For being too much like Leto and Hera.
And not being enough like them.

OR: How Zeus views Apollo.

(Title and chapter titles from a Florence + the Machine song)

Notes:

Welcome to my Tartarus, where I delve into the inner workings of Zeus's mind (which isn't a pleasant thing to do, mind you).

So I listened to "King" by Florence + the Machine recently and for some reason it really reminded me of Apollo. That, and me realizing that Apollo acts more like the godesses of the gang, while Artemis acts more like the gods. So I decided to write something about this, from Zeus's POV.

Disclaimer/Warnings: JUST BECAUSE I'M WRITING FROM ZEUS'S POV DOES NOT MEAN I LIKE HIM OR APPROVE OF HIS ACTIONS OR AM TRYING TO DEFEND HIM. I am not. And I think that's pretty obvious if you read the story, but I feel I need to get this out here fast.
TW for Zeus being misogynistic and a general asshole.

Chapter 1: I am no mother

Chapter Text

Apollo reminded Zeus of Leto. Which made sense, Leto was Apollo’s mother, but the resemblance was striking.

They both had long, golden-blonde hair. They both had shining golden eyes, though over the years Apollo’s became bluer. They had a similar face shape and general body shape, which made Apollo look disgustingly feminine. Artemis also shared those last traits with Leto, but none of the others. At least the shape was proper on her; she was a girl. Apollo was certainly not .

But that wasn’t all that reminded Zeus of Leto. There was his patience, his gentleness, his reason, his mediating nature, generally. He was quick to cry or beg, and equally quick to forgive. He was easy to manipulate. Leto was all these things as well.

His expressions, his movements. The subtle wince, the tightening of the mouth, the furrowing of the brows, when Zeus decreed something violent. The pleading gaze, eyes wide with desperate fear, the eyebrows tilted upward in fear, the soft, submissive begging words. 

His very voice. When they were happy, their voices were like birdsong. When they were afraid, their voices turned high-pitched, crinkly, whispery. When they were angry—which wasn’t often—their voices were scolding, but they backed down quickly Zeus glared or reached for his lightning bolts. When they were sad, their voices were quiet, ragged, and interjected with gasps or sobs.

It wasn’t that Zeus hated Leto. Leto was one of his favorite lovers—so submissive, she never challenged him, never raised her voice. But it was wrong on Apollo. Apollo was not Leto. Apollo was not a titaness.

But then again, it was safer if Apollo was like Leto, because maybe then Apollo wouldn’t dare try to overthrow him.

But Apollo was not completely like Leto. He was different from her. He had other people mixed in. He did try to overthrow Zeus. It was frustrating and a little worrying. 

Zeus frowned at Apollo as he knelt and pleaded before him. “I’m sorry, Father, I shouldn’t have—”

He was too much like her,

He had to be punished. For being too much like Leto.

And not being enough like her.