Chapter 38: Hephaestus (5)
Hephaestus watched the Horae disappear with the throne, then turned to leave.
Yet, something they said lingered in his mind.
"Hera was grieving…? That can't be…"
He pushed the confusion aside and hurried back to his forge.
"Now's not the time for doubts or overthinking. I need to reinforce the forge's defenses and prepare."
Meanwhile, the Horae, eager to please Hera, rushed the golden throne to the chamber where she was meeting with other goddesses.
"Lady Hera, Lady Hera, look at what we brought!"
"Hm? Shouldn't you be guarding the gates of Olympus?"
"Oh, come on, that's not important right now. What matters is this incredible creation, made by a master craftsman for you!"
"You know I've told you to stop acting so recklessly…"
As Hera began to scold them, the Horae swiftly unveiled the throne, pulling away the cloth covering it.
Swish!
The moment the dazzling throne was revealed, every goddess in the room froze, mouths agape, unable to utter a sound of awe.
Even Hera, rarely moved by material things, paused, captivated by the throne's beauty.
"Hmm…"
The Horae, puffed up with pride, couldn't help but boast.
"See? Totally worth leaving the gates for a moment!"
"Exactly! Who'd dare barge into Olympus? Bringing this to you was far more productive."
As the other goddesses, entranced, began to approach and touch the throne, Hera regained her composure.
Frowning at their spellbound behavior, she turned to the Horae.
"So, who made this?"
"Well… we're not sure, but it was a young man with red curly hair. A bit unattractive for a god, but decent by mortal standards. Oh, and he seemed to have a limp."
"My sister's right. We'd never seen him before. We'd know if there was a young god with such distinct features."
Hera closed her eyes and touched her forehead, processing their description.
"Hephaestus…"
Her mind flashed back to a conversation with Poseidon.
***
"Hera."
"You've been visiting too often lately, Poseidon. Missing your big sister?"
"Pfft, as if. I'd visit Demeter or Hestia, not you."
"Then why the frequent visits? Here to mock me over Zeus' antics?"
"Not at all. I came to talk about Hephaestus."
"What about him?"
"Tch, you stirred up a mess with him, and now he's burning with vengeance and hatred. I'm warning you to be careful. I don't want to hear about my sister getting stabbed by her own son."
"As I said, a king's child should have that kind of fire."
***
Poseidon had indeed warned her.
This throne, enchanting even the goddesses, was likely the very thing he'd cautioned her about.
Her youngest brother was probably worried about both her and Hephaestus.
For the record, Hera didn't consider Zeus a true sibling—only those who shared Kronos' belly with her counted.
"Hah! I'm not such a weak mother that I can't handle a child's tantrum. That boy worries too much…"
"What?"
"Nothing. Iris, I'm going to sit on this throne."
Iris, the rainbow goddess, was stunned by Hera's words.
"What?! You always give tribute like this to other goddesses!"
"How could I refuse something special made by a special child?"
"What does that mean…?"
"Don't be shocked or worried. This is just a conversation between a mother and her son."
Iris was floored.
Hera's words implied the throne was Hephaestus' creation.
As Hera's closest confidante, Iris knew all about Hera's strained relationship with Hephaestus.
She'd been shocked enough seeing Hera, unconscious and carried by Poseidon after visiting Hephaestus, a vulnerable side of the goddess she'd never seen, even during the war.
"Lady Hera, if I'm right, don't do something so reckless! Hephaestus is just sharpening his blade for revenge. I showed you how filled with rage and hatred he was!"
Iris vehemently opposed Hera's decision.
In a place where fathers tried to kill sons and sons plotted against fathers, Hera's actions were tantamount to saying, "Go ahead and kill me."
Her outburst drew the attention of the other goddesses, who had been distracted by the throne.
"What's going on?"
"No idea, but it sounds like someone's trying to harm Lady Hera."
"What?! Who?"
"Apparently, her own son…"
"…"
Despite the murmuring goddesses and Iris' desperate attempt to block her, Hera walked calmly to the throne, stroking it gently as if caressing a child's head.
"Iris, don't worry. If I'm hurt so badly I die, it just means I was too weak a queen to handle my child's tantrum. Besides, none of my children, or Zeus' for that matter, are strong enough to strike me down yet."
Iris was left speechless by Hera's serene resolve.
"Why would you…"
"Because he's my son. And I have this,"
Hera replied, showing Iris a pendant that shimmered with red and green hues.
It wasn't particularly beautiful, looking like the clumsy work of a novice blacksmith, yet it had hung around Hera's neck for some time.
"Poseidon gave it to me. He grumbled so much about how much effort it took, all because some boy asked him to. It was a bit amusing," Hera said with a faint smile.
Tucking the pendant back into her robes, she issued a command to the goddesses.
"Move this to the great hall and summon all the gods of Olympus. I'll sit on it in their presence."
The goddesses were stunned by her order.
It was obvious to anyone that sitting on the throne was dangerous, yet Hera intended to do so in front of all the gods—a seemingly foolish act.
Seeing their hesitation, Hera's expression hardened.
"Move, now!"
The goddesses scurried to obey, and Hera, for the first time in a while, smiled brightly.
"I need to show my son exactly what kind of goddess his mother is."
She followed the goddesses, her demeanor more vibrant than ever.
***
"What's this sudden meeting about?"
"No idea, Artemis. Heard anything?"
"Ugh, Apollo, your tone's so gross. Don't talk to me."
"What?! You're younger than me!"
"Yeah, but I was born first."
Athena sighed as Apollo and Artemis began bickering the moment they gathered.
"They start fighting as soon as they meet," she muttered.
"Well, that's siblings for you. Hera and Poseidon are the same. Triton, Rhode, and Bentesicyme fight so much that Amphitrite's flipping the seas daily," Aphrodite said, standing beside Athena.
Unlike the original myths, Athena saw beauty as a weapon, a perspective shaped by growing up under Poseidon and Cybele's care.
Poseidon had taught her to wield feminine allure in warfare, and so Athena sought to learn from Aphrodite, the master of such tactics.
Naturally, the two grew close.
"True enough. Cybele and I are sisters, but we're always waging wars with our followers on earth," Athena admitted.
"And don't get me started on Triton, Rhode, and Bentesicyme. They make it impossible to meet Nerites. He's always busy calming Amphitrite, Metis, and the other Nereids," Aphrodite added.
"…"
Sensing the conversation could drag on, Athena took a sip of her drink and changed the subject.
"Aphrodite, do you know why Hera called this meeting?"
"You… ugh. No clue. I just came from seeing Nerites in the sea."
"Ares would lose it if he knew."
"Well, that's the fate of a beautiful goddess."
"Didn't you say you were done with Nerites?"
"Ahem, anyway, Athena, how long are you going to treat beauty as just a tool? You could be as loved as I am," Aphrodite said, flipping her golden hair to dodge the topic.
Athena smirked, letting it slide.
"Nah, I'm not interested in being loved yet. Beauty's a powerful weapon, though. Just look at you."
"Honestly, the way you see beauty as a tool makes you seem like the war goddess," Aphrodite teased.
As Athena and Aphrodite chatted, all the gods of Olympus gathered.
Zeus was already there, cheerfully talking with the male gods.
"Is Father off chasing women again?" Athena wondered aloud.
"No, not this time. I hear Zeus hasn't been seeing anyone lately. Too busy with this and that," Aphrodite replied.
"By Zeus, no way!"
Athena was shocked by the news, but before she could dwell on it, Hera entered, resplendent in golden adornments befitting the queen of the gods.
At her side was the golden throne.
The gods bowed to Hera's enduring majesty, but their attention was quickly stolen by the throne beside her.
"Good heavens, what is that majestic throne next to Lady Hera?"
"A mere chair radiating such authority…"
"It feels like it's stealing my very soul."
The male gods were captivated by its aura of power and dominance.
"Oh my! It's so beautiful!"
"Look at those intricately carved gems. No Olympian craftsman could match this."
"It's clearly meant for Hera, the most beautiful and noble goddess."
The goddesses were enchanted by its beauty, craftsmanship, and mysterious allure.
Only Athena felt a sense of unease.
"Something's off. It's undeniably beautiful and authoritative, but the situation feels ominous."
"What do you mean?" Aphrodite asked.
"Don't you find it strange? Hera doesn't usually do things like this. And a craftsman skilled enough to make this? The only ones capable are the Cyclopes of Sicily. But Hera wouldn't commission them for something like this, so it must be a tribute…"
Aphrodite, prompted by Athena's observation, studied the throne closely and felt a nagging sense of familiarity with its craftsmanship.