Chapter Text
When I was born, a prophecy was foretold.
My older brother, Apollo, the god of light and virtues, was the one who spoke it. The next child of my father born with ichor coursing through their veins was to overthrow him upon birth. That the next woman to bear him a son from her womb, would bear a fully-grown battle-born god, much like one of my older sisters.
But when I came forth into the world, I was a normal-sized infant that apparently cried a lot and kicked my feet at just about anything that moved. No muscular build, no spear, no helmet, no striking eyes hellbent on becoming a king. Since the prophecy did not come true, father sighed in relief and adjusted his crown.
The day of my birth was a very ordinary day with a sunny sky and a light breeze, and my mother was an ordinary nymph. I know not what she looked like, nor what type of nymph she was. She didn’t stick around to raise me. A few hours after she went into labor, she wrapped me in a bundle and left me in the arms of Hermes, also one of my older brothers, and the messenger of the gods. It was he who announced my birth and my mother's departure to my father.
Details of those days were sparse and I can’t for the life of me remember if dad was happy or terrified to raise another godly child of Olympus. I suppose he feared what would be to come if I was raised close to him, but he took it rather well.
I was a tiny little thing, curly hair colored much like honey and eyes like my father - a sort of blue that couldn't be found in nature and no one could replicate. It sent us - Zeus' children - aside from the other gods. I was frequently told that I resembled him a lot, especially by my grandmother, Rheia.
“You have his nose, his hair, his eyes, his smile. Even a bit of his personality, my dear.” She used to say when she visited, or when I visited her on Krete. I used to be so happy I resembled one of my parents. Did my mother also have these features? Was she tall? Or perhaps, short enough to reach my father's chest? Did she also have honey-blonde hair? What if she was one of those flower nymphs with the strange hair? I tried to see her in other nymphs, but no matter what, I never felt like she looked like either of them.
Life on Olympus was rather calm, if you could call it that.
I had countless older siblings. Some were a part of the 12 Olympians, like Ares, Athena, Apollo, Dionysus, Hermes, Artemis, some were lower Olympians, like the Muses, the Graces, Aletheia. To sit here and recount all of them would take me all day. You simply need to know that my addition to the glorious temple and his gargle of children did not make any difference.
When I was a small child and wet behind the ears, dad came to me, all glorious and tall, and gifted me with a hound he received. He wasn’t too big or too small, with short brown fur and perked ears. I named him Leonidas, after the ancient Spartan King, but frequently called him ‘Leo’.
Leo followed me everywhere, yipping and barking at my legs whenever we ran. He was my first friend on Olympus. My first real friend.
“Do not run in the halls!” Terpsichore, one of my sisters, warned as I simply laughed and let Leo chase me through the halls. I got that warning several times over. I never quite followed it, because it took the fun out of everything.
“Come, Leo!” I half-yelled, and he followed me as loyal as ever.
Of course, dad had his other worries of me growing up on Olympus. One was his own wife, the Queen of the Gods, and my step-mother, Hera.
Hera was as intimidating as she was beautiful, according to the nymphs that ran around Olympus. I heard rumors that she had quite a reign of terror that she inflicted in anyone dad took to bed or sired. Maybe that’s why mother fled, out of fear of a vengeful goddess. Or did Hera make her leave?
Luckily for me and everyone, Hera apparently mellowed over the years, as Zeus’s affairs grew fewer and fewer and so did his children born from another womb. She no longer raged with the might of a thousand storms when she found another in Zeus’s bed. She no longer set maddening spirits after Zeus’s illegitimate offspring.
I considered myself incredibly lucky that I was born after that. My brothers and sisters also called me lucky.
“You should have seen what she did to Heracles."
"Our mother was chased across the lands."
“You should have seen the troubles all those demigods went through.
"You are lucky, Kairos. Never forget that.”
I never would. I was lucky.
I grabbed a ball Hephaestus made for me and prepared to throw it for Leo. Except, that when I looked ahead, he was gone. I looked around, anywhere to see his brown fur, but I couldn’t.
Oh no. I hope he didn’t run into the throne room again! Dad prohibited him from going there, after he brought dirt everywhere, but couldn’t bring himself to throw Leo out completely.
“Leo? Leonidas!” I thought if I called him by his full name he would respond. I finally heard a faint bark and followed it, hoping it would be Leo and not one of Hephaestus’s hounds. I almost jumped from joy when I saw his tail wagging, and almost fainted when I saw he was seated quite lavishly on the floor in the throne room.
His fat tongue was rolling out, and his belly was up, while a hand was scratching it. I raised my eyes up the hand and froze.
Hera.
She was certainly beautiful, with high cheekbones, olive skin. Her brown hair was tied back, a golden crown resting on her curls and a deep purple veil sprawled from the corners of the crown. She fixated her deep brown eyes on me and frankly, they looked like daggers. She was the image of a proper queen, especially with her rich purple peplos, and the image of her mother, Rheia.
I hid behind a column, only peeking to see Leo content with the petting Hera was giving him.
She raised to her full height, dwarfing me by a long, long mile.
“Kairos? Why do you hide?” I tried to find anger or malice in her tone, but found none. I only found motherly concern.
I didn’t respond and Hera tilted her head, extending a hand out. Her hand looked gentle and inviting, golden bangles shifting and making a sweet melody to my ears.
“Do you think of me scary?”
“Hermes said you are a.. Uhm, a hag?”
Hera’s eye twitched. She mumbled something I couldn't hear, and then sighed. She retained that soft smile back.
“I am not scary nor a hag, Kairos. Come over here.” She sighed. I was still a bit wary but I advanced forward with small steps.
When I reached in front of Hera, she picked me up without breaking a sweat and walked over to her golden throne. Upon sitting down, she smoothed her peplos and set me down on her lap, making sure I was comfortable. Leo noticed and also came over, resting his body at Hera’s legs.
I had never spent alone time with Hera. Dad was terrified she would try and kill me for the only crime that I committed, my birth. But Hera did not try to smite me, nor poison me, nor strangle me. She simply sat there contentedly, as if there was nothing better than having me sitting there.
“What did you do today, Kairos?” She asked, and Leo raised his snout so I could pet him.
“Uhh, I climbed the highest tree in the gardens! And father showed me the Aegean Sea! It was so bigs!”
Hera laughed softly and tapped my nose with her long finger. “It was so big. Not bigs, dear.”
“Big.” I repeated, and then recounted my whole day of adventures to her, while Leo barked every so often, as if accompanying my stories.
That’s how Hera and I became closer and closer. I used to run every day to her, telling her of all the adventures I had, of all the crazy mischief Leo and I got up to. She always listened and always asked more and more questions. Even when I had nothing to tell her, I still sought her out.
My siblings said she was trying to make up for centuries of mistreating children. I just thought she loved me like my mother never did.