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Athena found it odd to be so close to her siblings after so long. For so many centuries they had tolerated one another at best, occasionally allying for some kind of greater cause. But in truth, they had never truly been family - only in blood. There was rarely any love or trust in one another, all they had in common was their father (and occasionally a mother).
But now?
Again, it was odd, to say the least. It felt strange - but by no means unwelcome - to have Apollo or Aphrodite check up on her, or to have Hephaestus stop by for a chat, or for Ares to offer a casual spar or a game. She found it fascinating to think of how all it took was one slip up from her, one mistake and an almost mortal amount of self-preservation, reckless bravery and stupidity to bring them closer. Sure, it hadn't felt good in any way - and frankly still didn't - but it was interesting all the same.
Alongside her half-siblings, Athena had come to appreciate Hera - despite her former coldness towards and distrust of her. She had become closer to a mother than simply an ally. Yes, before they weren't friends, only united in their rage against whatever misfortune had befallen them at the time, but they were not family. While, unlike with Artemis and Apollo, Hera couldn't grudge Athena for her parentage and Zeus's disloyalty, there had been no excess of love between them. Yet, in her most vulnerable moments, it was Hera who moped the sweat from her brow when she had been in the depths of fever, and it was Hera who changed the bandages where her own ichor had leaked through.
And now, here they were. Laughing and joking with each other as if it were natural - like it were effortless, something they had practiced for years on end - playing games.
It had been long since so many of them had been in one place. Not since Zeus'... game, had so many gods been so close. Some had flitted about Olympus doing their normal duties in groups, occasionally coming to Apollo's domains, to 'catch up' or to 'ask something of Apollo', coincidentally while she had been in recovery. And of course by then, they'd have to stay, talking in hushed converstations.
It was severely unheard of for them to have a casual gathering such as this. Again, strange.
"Athena."
Apollo's voice cut into her mind pulled her from her thoughts. She was getting lost in them again. She looked up at him and his eyes shone with a familiar concern - one that she had quickly come to expect from him - but he didn't say anything, only tilting his head towards the game in front of her.
Right.
She spared a glance to Hephaestus before looking back towards the board. Pettiea was easy... yet still she found herself struggling to keep up. Usually, she was quick and precise, thinking and planning far ahead of the game. It was unnerving to feel so behind. She was being sloppy. Stupid. A piece moved the wrong way a few moves back, another moved too far on one of her early turns. She had lost both of those. But she couldn't lose. No, what would they think of her? - the godess of wisdom, losing at a simple game, a game that played to all of her domians.
They had seen so much of her, too much. They had seen how her hands shook and her mind constantly drifted. They had seen her feverish nightmares and dreams and her long stretches when her mind was empty and she was barely more than a shell of herself. They had seen her pain and fear. Too much, it was too much.
But...
Could she win? Was that fair to be showing off her skill at game? Would they become distant again? Leaving her alone, claiming she was too proud and vain for them? That she wasn't worth their time? Athena wasn't sure if she could bear the thought.
She turned back to the game.
Her move again. She pushed a piece.
Would they do something to her if she won? Hate her if she lost?
Back to her.
"Athena, are you okay?"
She wasn't sure who asked but nodded stifly.
Her move.
She shouldn't have done that. A dumb move.
Back to her again.
Her hands where shaking. She forced them still as Hepheastus made his final move and won. She didn't see the worry lacing his features and barely felt the hand on her shoulder.
"Athena," she heard her name called again - Aphrodite or Ares perhaps? - "Are you okay? You've never lost like that?"
She felt dizzy. Her thoughts were going to quick for her to truly understand, blurring together in her mind like a storm. It hurt, she hated it. Her chest hurt, her head, everything did. Were those desperate gasping breathes her? She could feel tears rolling down her cheek. She reached up to scrub at her eyes, flinching as her hand passed across a still-healing wound - but she had to stop. She couldn't let them watch this! Watch her crying over a simple lost game like a spoiled child.
She clawed harder at her face. Hands gripped onto her wrist. She flinched. Why couldn't she breathe?
The hands let go. Athena felt herself pulled forward and a sudden weight on her back, arms pinned by her side. Her chest was pressed against something soft. She pushed further into it.
It hurt.
But it felt good.
She closed her eyes, trying to distract herself from the aching in her heart, but her mind still wirred and ran and everything just hurt. She felt sick. She could hear voices but the sounds blurred together into and indistinguisable, disorientating mess that echoed and bounced around in her skull. She was tired. Just so tired.
She forced her eyes open when a hand brushed gently across her face.
A voice in her ear.
"Is that better now?"
Her thoughts felt sluggish and slow. How much time had passed? Was the sky darkening?
It was quiet and she glanced lazily around.
"Does anything hurt?"
She blinked. Apollo. Had he calmed her thoughts as he had done so often recently? - offering her a chance for some precious moments of peace and quiet. It felt good to finally be free from her domain. She let her eyes drift close.
She felt soft breathe on her cheek. A light tap on her temple.
"Athena, can you answer me?"
She blinked her eyes back open again with a soft hum as her gaze met Apollo's, the worried and concerned light in them seeming to shine brighter than before. She nodded.
Aphrodite let go of her - when had she begun holding her? - and Athena could see the tears blooming in her wide, bright eyes. She felt guilty. Aphrodite sniffed before speaking, uncharacteristically soft and quiet for her, "Do you want to go home?"
She nodded.