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Hestia felt exposed. She always felt exposed at these Olympian feasts. Not just because she sat in the middle of the room next to the open pit where she tended her fire. She'd sat by the fire for a long time.
She'd been happy to give her seat up to Hephaestos. Poor boy. She wished she'd had more time to get to know him before he'd left with Aphrodite. A tricky fate to be married to Love. To love at all was to be vulnerable. She'd learned that.
Learned to be afraid. After the flood. After the fall.
Now Hestia sat alone tending her fire. Exposed. Her love chained far away.
From the center of the room, Hestia saw everything.
All the golden couches and marble. Everything was always gold with Zeus. She had no idea what price he must have paid Haides, who would give nothing to their little brother for free.
Certainly, Haides gave nothing away from his shadowy corner in a fold of the great hall. He gathered his aegis of shadows around him, leaving only his eyes to gleam out of the dark. He had the option to hide in the dark.
It had been an age of the world since they'd stood as pillars beneath their siblings to lift them out of the acid and bile. Taking the pain on themselves.
Now she only saw him each year for Diasia. His festival. The festival of the other Zeus. His gift to her. To her children.
Zeus hadn't put in an appearance yet. He liked to pretend that this was his festival. That the offerings were made to him. Zeus liked to pretend many things.
For this festival, Apollo made a great show for how he took a shorter route in the sky so he could nap before the feast, and still he was yawning. Hestia took a closer look. His eyes were red. His face flushed. He was high as a kite. Flirting dangerously with falling into a prophecy.
Hestia frowned at her sister Demeter for bringing opium to a feast, but could not hold onto her anger with her sister.
Demeter was curled into her couch in her eternally black robes. She looked to be down to the last grain of her resources. Reduced to clutching her adamantine sickle in one hand and a poppy pipe in the other. If Apollo was high, Demeter was low. That left Demeter's daughter, Kore, sitting next to her in loose maiden's robes. Rocking in her seat. Eyes cast to the floor.
Zeus, with great fanfare, lumbered into the room in the form of a dragon to take his applause. It was something he felt he was owed. Adulation. All the praise. While Haides in his gloomy corner watched as Zeus claimed all.
From where Hestia sat, she saw the way Kore reacted to Zeus in his dragon's shape.
Kore as ash grey as a brown earth goddess may go flinched when Zeus boomed out, "Kore, girl, you're too far away from your father. I'm just getting to know you since your mother keeps you so cruelly from me. Come," he patted the space next to him, "join me in the place of honor."
This led to a shuffle of grumbling gods as Hera had to find another place to lay herself down for the feast. Broken again when Hera bustling back to pluck a finely crafted lotus scepter from under her seat. Hestia had never seen the scepter before and Hestia had been to every feast. Except the year there was no feast. The year of the fall.
Only Haides in his shadowed corner didn't move. Hestia saw young Hebe approach his couch with a pitcher full of nectar, took one look at the shadows, and walked around to pour nectar into the cup of his guest, a beautiful nymph. Minthe was a Meliai whose manna giving ash tree had been felled before the flood. This was the guest Haides had brought with him to preen before the gods. To haughtily sniff at Hestia by the fire.
Hestia did not know why Haides had brought Minthe. If he had taken some slight at how Hestia had worded his invitation to his feast. If the message was simply the beauty of the woman given the way the other gods talked about him.
Minthe was certainly beautiful. Proudly decked in gold and silver. Her arms and ankles heavily laden with gems. Wreaths of chains looped around her neck. Diamonds like stars twinkled in her hair. Piercings for gold and gems in her ears and her nose. A gem above her right eye. The ash nymph glittered as if asking to be stolen. As if any would steal from Haides after Hermes had been forced to do an eternal set of tasks for Haides because of his theft. Perhaps that was the message.
Hestia saw everything that happened in this hall. That didn't mean she understood why the other gods did as they did.
Meanwhile on the other side of the hall, Kore approached her father slowly. Lay down so carefully and still on the feasting couch, only to be hauled closer by Zeus. Hestia felt like she should do something. Say something. Anything, and yet, she didn't. She sat by her fire thinking she should, and all she actually did was tend to the fire, which was so easy for a storm to extinguish. So easy for a god of storms to kill. She did nothing and told herself that she'd sworn her loyalty to Zeus willingly. That there was nothing she could do.
To calm her nerves and to start the feast, Hestia pulled offerings from her fire. Mortals feared death and blood burdens a great deal. She pulled out food and drink. Food for plates and drink for flagons. Trenchers and amphora. The first of every offering to the gods was Hestia's. Hebe raced around the room serving everyone.
As Hestia raised a cup, Zeus watched her with sparkling sky-blue eyes. She told herself that there was no way he could read her mind. He could not know what she was thinking. How she was judging her little brother. Sky-Father Zeus as he liked to style himself.
It certainly was nothing unusual for Zeus to say, "I'm glad I gave sister-cinders the honor of tending the fire. That it was through my power you are allowed you to tell Aphrodite to fuck off. Hard to believe you had Poseidon and my boy, Apollo, sniffing at you back in the day. Covered in cinders like you are. May as well fuck a ghost."
Eris wasn't the only god good at stirring up trouble.
Hestia kept her smile on her face. Placid and calm. A hearth fire was a fire under control.
Hestia reminded herself that she'd already given Aphrodite her due. That she gave it every day. There were many kinds of love. The heat from sacred fires went both ways. In every home, in every city, her fires warmed the hearth. Cooked the food. Turned houses into homes.
Hestia adjusted a brightly burning branch so it could breathe better. Blue flames licked at her fingers. She tickled them until they crackled with joy. She plucked out offerings that would only come if she was the one who reached for them.
Having carefully considered how she would respond to her youngest brother, she said, "Thank you, great King, father of the gods." He was not her father. She reminded herself that. At least he wasn't that.
With that praise and his cup filled, fickle Zeus' attention drifted back to Kore. He held his cup up to Kore's lips. The girl, dark-eyes downcast, went as still as a speckled fawn when a timber wolf is near, but after a moment stiffly opened her lips to accept a drink. He laughed and smoothed her long curling hair. Zeus said, "We have to fatten you up, girl. You're too slender. Hera was just telling me this morning that you're too skinny."
Hera, whose face was gathering jealous thunder clouds, paused, brow wrinkling under her crown of stars and veil of fog. If Hestia had to guess, that look was because she'd never said any such thing. Even feeling as if she hardly knew her sister, she could guess that.
Zeus said in aggrieved tone, "Of course, my wife is too busy paying attention to that son of hers to back me up when I repeat what she says. Proving that I do pay attention to her for all her complaints."
Hera looked at Ares glowering into his cup. Ares was still stung over Aphrodite's marriage to Hephaestos. Hera said, "I don't understand."
"Of course you don't understand, you mad cow. You don't care," sniffed Zeus, who held meat up to Kore's lips. She froze like a lamb freezes when a lion is near, but finally opened her mouth to accept what was offered.
"I care," said Hera, her voice rising. Her movements becoming agitated like a trapped bird. She rubbed at the back of her neck.
Ares hustled over to Hera. The couch creaked with his greater weight, as he wrapped a muscular arm around his mother. Ares boomed, "Leave Mother alone. She didn't do anything."
Zeus drawled, "That's the brilliant defense that the god of war comes up with. His mother is too pathetic to do anything. What a waste. Two sons by my wife. One half a man, who can't get it up even for the fucking goddess of desire. The other with half a brain."
Ares went bright red. Wide eyes that showed his every feeling going liquid with heat. Tears with all the gods watching.
Eris whispered to Melpomene, and they both laughed. A high carrying sound that jabbed at the ears.
Zeus' lip curled. Hestia braced herself and stroked a curl of flame hissing from a log. Focused her love on her fire. That didn't stop her ears. Zeus shouted, "Hera, I should never have put aside Metis at your conniving! I've had to live with your jealousy and spite ever since!"
Hestia dashed aside ashes gathering in her eyes. Smoke provoking tears. For all that that smoke was a part of her. The thought of Metis ached. She had been their savior. For all that Zeus liked to claim that title. He liked to claim everything.
Apollo peeled out a laugh that was as high as he was. He staggered to his feet and would have fallen into her fire, if Hestia hadn't braced him on one side and Artemis grabbed him by the back of his chiton. Artemis heaved him back to collapse on Artemis' couch, scattering the pack of hunting dogs that went with her everywhere. But Apollo wasn't done causing a scene. He sang in his clear beautiful tenor that filled the hall,
"Down to a | deep confine | doubled Maid, | thunder's mite | expecting
Birthing a | riotous | handful for | heaven's high | rulership
Down to a | deep the twice | born Maiden, | claim your throne | waiting
Gas lit the | snapping chains | matron mad, | out will fly | counselship
Fall to a | deep dark, | doubled boy | thunder's buried | vintage
Ring pater's | pate, and go | capo Maid | right matri | -lineage."
As he sang the final note, his eyes rolled back into his head, and he fainted into the support of the nearest dog, a slavering creature that appeared more wolf than hound.
"And that bitches," said Artemis wearily, "is what happens when you smoke what auntie Demmy has on offer." She easily picked her twin up with one arm and slung him over a strong shoulder well used to hauling stags. She whistled for her dogs. A sound just ahead of the din as the room erupted in conversation. "Peace out."
Eris' voice cut through easily. "So is this the same heir as the last few prophecies or a different one? What joy. Zeus and the heir he always wanted. But who's the lucky maid schtuped by thunder? Who could it possibly be?" Her tone was dry. Vicious. Her smile was mean. Even her posture was cruel.
"Who is it?" said Hera, flinging back her borrowed couch, "Is it Demeter? She was twice born. Once from Mother. Once from our father."
"As you were," said Zeus pushing Kore aside, who fled the couch for safer ground. If there was such a thing. Zeus faced Hera. "You're not thinking clearly. But then you never do."
"Remind me, don't they call Kore the maid," said Eris sweetly.
Athena said evenly, "Everyone calm down. The more reasonable explanation is Apollo is simply high on… strong nectar. Hebe got the recipe a little strong tonight. His song is meaningless. All smoke, but no fire."
Hera would not be calmed. She glared at Demeter. The slender scepter clutched in her hand like a club. "You bitch. You always wanted my throne. My husband."
"Wanted!" Demeter staggered to her feet, and pointed her sickle at Zeus. "I did everything I could to avoid you. I became a snake and crawled into the earth. I became a mare and ran away. And you!" Her sickle wavered dangerously between pointing at Zeus and Poseidon, who was doing his best to act as if this had nothing to do with him. "You! You!" Tears streamed down Demeter's face. "My little one still-born cold in the dark. Because of you. Taking what I didn't want to give. Making me have what I didn't want to bear. Now my little girl is lost to me."
Hestia jumped up from her place. "Demeter! Calm yourself. Kore's here."
Haides took the more direct approach of putting a hand around Demeter's wrist. The wrist holding the sickle "Sister, that looks heavy." He carefully did not touch the edge. Wise. It was the blade of ultimate harvest. Had once separated their grandfather from his phallus and life. Her sister had braved their father's castle to get that blade once. That had been long ago.
Demeter turned to look at Kore. Clumsily petted her hair, while her daughter flinched at each touch. "My Kore. You're so beautiful. Such a beautiful girl. I love you. You know that I love you don't you?"
"I know, mama." Kore looked at the ground.
Demeter swayed, but Haides supported her. One hand around her wrist. The wrist that held the blade.
Into this conflagration, Minthe came to clutch at Haides' arm.
"You." Demeter sneered at the nymph. "You think you're so pretty. Beautiful. What do you think that beauty will get you?"
Hestia willed Minthe to stay silent and go back to the couch. But Hestia wasn't the goddess of willing people to do anything. The proud nymph of a dead tree raised her diamond decorated face. "I think it will get me my lord's love and respect." The nymph raised a glittering hand. "It'll get me more than what your daughter's gotten." She sniffed. "As if you can call her beautiful. Trim ankles. Hardly."
So proud and lovely. Clutching at the king of a dead kingdom.
For a moment, Hestia saw her brother's face. The one he hid in the shadows. The heart that opened to take in all who came to him. For a cost. Perhaps he lost his grip on Demeter's wrist. He who lost nothing. Perhaps Demeter wrenched away. She who grew again out of ashes. It was hard to say.
But Demeter moved fast as a serpent and swung the blade. One moment there was a pretty nymph covered in the wealth of the earth. The next there was nothing but dust on the floor.
Kore gasped. "Mother, no!" She fell to her knees and gathered up the dust. "No. No. No." She whispered to it softly. Within a moment, there was a small green plant growing in her hands. It smelled fresh and clean. She said to the plant, "Her tree was destroyed."
"Cut down," Haides confirmed. Hestia flinched. Humans had cut that tree down. Humans had burned the tree for their hearth fire. Her fire. After the flood.
"She had nothing left, but to go to you." Kore stood. Held out her cupped hands to Haides, her head still bowed. Not meeting his eyes.
Hestia lived in the middle of the room. She saw everything. She saw her hard-hearted brother stiffen. "That is so my Lady of Sorrows."
Kore held out her cupped hands, not meeting his eyes. "Wherever she's planted, her roots will spread, and even what's above the surface is rooted out, she'll live again. Even in destruction, her leaves will only become sweeter." Tears made silver paths down Kore's face. Gold where Hestia's fire flickered.
All the silver and gold of the earth belonged to her brother.
Haides, who gave nothing away for free, accepted his former lover in his hands. "That was kindly done my Lady of Sorrows."
"My sorrows are mine," said Kore. "I'm no one's lady." She turned away. "Come on, mama." She kept her head down.
Hestia remembered when Kore was a wailing baby. When she'd inhaled the ash of all that remained of Persephone. Coughed and wailed all the louder.
"No, I… I… I can't leave without." Demeter darted back to her bench, picked up a basket with a swaddled shape inside. "Here, sister, I… for you."
Hestia took the basket. Fearful. Hoping. Hestia had no time to thank her sister as Demeter followed Kore from the room.
Hestia saw much from where she sat. She saw Haides watching Kore as they went. His former lover carefully cupped in his hands.
No feast night on Olympos was content with just one drama. While all of that had been happening, Hera had been winding up the storm of her rage. "Don't avoid the subject, Zeus! Who is your latest slut?" roared Hera. "Who are you going to put on your throne if not my son?"
"There is no other woman but in your imagination you deranged cow." Then because her brother didn't know which way he wanted the wind to blow, Zeus added, "It's not my fault that women throw themselves at me. I'm the handsomest of all the gods."
"So there is a slut! You admit it! Which one is it? Semele? Demeter?"
"Nowhere, I'm sure," said Athena calmly. Hands spread between them. "Father loves you. You're the Queen of the Heavens. Oh, Hera, I hadn't noticed earlier," Hestia did not roll her eyes at that statement, "Is that lotus scepter a gift from Hephaestos?"
"I…" Hera looked down at the delicate scepter in her hands. "Yes." Hera stopped waving it like she was about to bash Zeus with it. She held it to her chest. "He made it for me long ago."
"That's lovely," said Athena. "Father, don't you think it's lovely. You have such a skilled smith for a first born son. Pity about his injuries, but he does such a good job working around those."
Zeus chuckled. "He is a cripple. Yeah. And Ares is an idiot." Zeus sat down heavily and lounged on his couch. "Hera, sit down. Why do you do work yourself up like this? This is all in your head."
"Everyone, if we could just resume our seats," said Athena brightly. "We can complete the feast."
Ignoring, of course, that during Demeter's dusting of their brother's lover, Poseiden and Queen Amphitrite had left the hall. Melpomene loudly told Eris, "The delicious tragedy of it is that Zeus no more wants an heir than he wants to be castrated." Melpomene arched plucked eyebrows. "Who can love their own winding sheet?" A statement that had Eris in hysterics.
"What are you saying?" asked Hera querulously. "Hephaestos, or maybe Ares," she cast a motherly look at Ares, "will be Zeus' heirs. After all, as my husband said, I was a twice born maid. I was in the deep of our father's… I was deep once." Her brow furrowed as she clutched the lotus scepter with one hand and the edge of her feather mantle with the other. Hera looked around dazed. As if confused as to how she'd arrived in the hall. Hestia's heart ached to see her like this. Hera trailed off almost whispering, "I was a maid once."
"A long time ago," said Zeus. "Too long." But he seemed ready to let the feast shamble to a finish.
With Zeus and Hera settled back down, Athena walked confidently to Haides. "If you'll hand me Minthe, we can complete what must be done this Diasia."
Haides looked at her with hard steady eyes and did not move to give her either.
Athena's continued as if this were normal. She was completely relaxed. She had had a great deal of practice. "My apologies for bringing up your duties, which you do so well. For the good of mortals."
Haides said, "What is mine, I keep."
"Of course, but you can hardly bear the blood of the sacrifices if you have both hands full," said Athena in a bright, reasonable tone.
Instead Haides turned to Zeus and held up the little plant. He said, "Youngest brother, I have been wronged by our sister."
Zeus chuckled. For once not taking offense at Haides' tone. "Yeah, your dead girlfriend's a… what do you think Hermes? Is she a nerb?"
Hermes glanced nervously at Haides. He said fairly neutrally for the normally laughing god, "Do you mean an herb?"
"No," said Zeus insistently, "the word is nerb."
"Too right," said Hermes. "My mistake. Yes, you're right. She's a nerb now."
Haides, focused as ever, said, "I have been wronged by Demeter. She's taken something from me." Haides raised his voice. "I who guard our greatest enemies."
Zeus shifted in his chair, looking away. "Not my problem that your deadwood girlfriend's a nerb. No idea why she was with you. She was a ten and you're… you." Zeus leaned back in his seat. Acting as if he didn't care.
Athena made a subtle gesture that had Hermes threading his way through the couches. "What do you need Uncle H? I've got your back. A new girlfriend. I can find one for you like that." He snapped his fingers.
"Doubt it," muttered Zeus loudly. "Way I hear it anyone who fucks the eunuch dies. Death cums for you." He chuckled. "Get it. Death comes."
"I don't…" Hera trailed off. "Oh. I don't think that's... "
"No, you don't!" said Zeus. "It's hilarious."
"Hilarious," said Eris.
Melpomene snickered, "Like minty hubris."
"Exactly, like hummus," said Zeus. "Hilarious hummus."
"Uh…" said Hermes glancing between his father and his uncle. "Uncle H, let me find you a new woman. A prettier one. One who doesn't annoy the staff. I mean… way I heard it Hekate never could figure out why you chose that one."
"As my Lady of Sorrows said," Haides' was low and cold. The kind of mist that drowns a fire and keeps a spark from catching, "Minthe came to me. When she had nowhere else to go. She came to the receiver of all." Haides didn't look at his nephew. His gaze was trained on Zeus, who was squirming in his seat.
Hestia's heart crumpled a little. Like a branch eaten by flames crumples into ash. Haides hadn't been listening to Kore when she'd claimed her own sorrow.
"And like I said, deadwood girlfriend. Nerb. Fucking a nerb." Zeus pretended that Haides' steady look wasn't unnerving his never steady nerves. Even more so as Haides walked as inexorable as death up to the dias to murmur in their youngest brother's ear.
But Zeus smiled at whatever he heard. "Is that all? Used goods. Solves a problem. Not a big problem. Not my problem of course, my boy Apollo was probably just high, but..." He laughed. "They say anyone you fuck dies. Pity. Pretty girl, but… they say anyone who fucks you dies."
"You do say that," said Haides. He went back to the fireplace. His expression set. Intent. Gently, he handed the small plant to Hermes. "Plant this under an ash tree." Now his gaze turned like a beam of light from an unshuttered lantern on Athena. "Child, I always do my duty. Always. Never again imply that I do not." He didn't add that there would be consequences if she did.
Athena continued to stand up straight. Her smile did not at all sharpen. But then again, wisdom had a good deal of practice at remaining calm. "My apologies. I meant no offense. I did not mean to imply that you do not. Never. You carry the greatest burden."
"The eunuch. No, Athena, I carry the greatest burden," muttered Zeus loudly. "You know that. Bore you from my own head. Even the smartest goddess can't always be right. Beautiful too. I'd do her but… you know… I never had to swear by the Styx that... Never."
Hestia's fire crackled on her behalf. Consumed wood. She turned to care for it. Feed it another branch. Slid unsteady fingers over flames that curled around her hands in comfort.
Haides knelt next to Hestia. "I am ready, sister." He patiently waited for her to sift through the ashes for the blood offered in the dead of night. The offering made to cleanse the sin of kinslayers. The offering to send loved ones to the land of last resort. The offerings made by those who had little joy of the feast.
Haides did what he did. He judged which offerings were made with a true heart. Which were worthy for the urn of shadows. He bore away the blood that would go to be poured into the river Lethe. Where sins would be forgotten and souls freed to go to the land that would accept them if they entered.
When Haides' last shadow slipped away, the feast was done.
Zeus left laughing. Chuckling about used goods. Hera asking if he would join her that night, and got the usual reply. Eris and Melpomene left still stirring the gossip pot. Gods left one by one until only Hestia remained.
Hestia sat down heavily by her fire, which by now was down to a sea of glowing coals in the pit. Hestia raked the remaining coals into the center. Carefully covered them in a mound of ash. While she was doing all of that, she was alone and not alone.
Far below Olympos, mortals were banking their fires.
She felt her limbs grow heavy as the ash mounds grew. She could have burned wood the night through, and remained alert, but that would be wasteful, and a hearth fire was not meant for waste. It was meant to shine a light. It was meant to cook food and warm the home. Even one as cold as this one.
It was meant to lay down on the stone and pull up a blanket of ashes. Sleep the night through. In the cold dark of morning, with the morning star still gleaming in the heavens, groggy and slow, Hestia pushed away the ash. Found her coals dimly glowing in the cool of morning. Fed them on delicate shavings of the most fragrant of cedar and beech wood. With gentle puffs of air, and a steady diet of wood, brought life to the fire.
Hestia felt all across the mortal lands below as women breathes fires to life. Shepherds with their stone rings in mountain fields. Wanderers and worshipers, arriving home to the hearth. Gently scooping coals - if not perhaps with their bare hands - into clay ovens as she was doing.
She unwrapped the blanket to look at what was inside. Good barley dough resting peacefully under the wrapping. After years of staying away, she'd remembered her gift. Hestia hadn't been sure she would.
She baked hope in her clay oven. That and good barley bread. After all, her sister had made the dough with her own hands. Grown the barley in her fields. Hestia baked.
Sacred fire went both ways. In the mortal realm below, children with no one to feed them found a meal of sacred bread on their hearths. Blessed by the forgiveness of Diasia.
This too was part of Diasia. This too was what Hestia could do for love. With a little help. If her sister remembered.
This was why on the feast of Diasia those who need bread the most will find it on their own hearths as long as they keep a fire lit.
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