Chapter Text
I woke that morning early. The sun still hadn't been driven across the sky by my brother Apollo. The noise outside was still quiet and content. Next to me was my spear, resting against the wall, and next to my spear was my owl, Glauce. Glauce was awake and staring at me with his big eyes, I reached my hand over and patted his small head.
It took me longer than usual to get out of bed that day. For some reason I had nerves in my stomach. Pathetic. It's so pathetic to be so nervous. I'm Athena. The goddess of wisdom and crafts and government and war. I am my father's right hand woman, so why, by my mother Metis, did I feel so nervous? All had been peaceful for four months, since my 'bright' little brother's return to grace. In my opinion he did so sloppily, like a fish out of water and Poseidon in a test. But even so, I stayed in bed until 10:30AM. The reason for that was because my stepmother, Hera, knocked on my door.
"Athena"
I heard her say. Her voice was stern and cruel. It had changed over the years, some parts of me still remembered when it was softer and motherly. But that was centuries ago. The mortals opinions on her had turned her the bitter woman she was now, no longer did I hear her voice and think it was kind. I didn't answer her. I didn't tend to answer her now.
"Athena."
She said again, sternly.
”Open this door and get up"
I would like to have said I listened to the Queen's demands. But I never liked getting up when I felt funny or if the sun was up. So I didn't answer. I heard an angry sigh and slam against my oak door.
"Get up!"
Hera shouted, I winced as she did. It was so loud it caused a ringing in my ears. She never used to shout unless father had cheated on her, or one of my half siblings had done something to invoke such anger. I was hardly subjected to such anger from anyone and it angered me that she dared to speak to me as such. I stood up from my bed and pulled the door open, Hera stood there with a simple white chiton and her Greek wreath laurel, or Δάφνινο στεφάνι in Greek. Tied into her hair was peacock feathers, and around the middle of her chiton was a golden belt, designed with her symbol and name in Ancient Greek, which was Ἥρα.
"Yes, μητριά"
I said, bitterly. For those that don't know what I said in Greek, it was mitriá. Stepmother. I said it now because it annoyed her, like she had annoyed me.
"Don't call me that"
Hera snapped, exactly like I wanted her to. I grinned and shoved by her. She does not deserve respect if she shouts like a toddler on early mornings. I heard her scowl and turn towards me. Perhaps to snap. But I was already gone. I was already out my palace doors and heading towards my favorite spot of Olympus. The olive tree grove. It was big and lushes, olive trees stood tall and as proud as me. I brushed my fingertips over their rough bark, I slid down to a sit beneath the biggest one. Above me in the canopy of the trees was owl nests and sleeping owls, I didn't dare disturb my birds. Glauce had flown off hours ago, and had come back to the grove to sleep with his friends. I took a breath between my lips and tried to calm the growing nerves in my stomach. I still didn't understand why I was of so nerve. And that annoyed me. And to be annoyed was to be emotional. And to be emotional was to be unwise. And being unwise wasn't my thing, so I got even more annoyed and it turned into a cycle of anger and annoyance.
It kept building within me even as I tried to relax. I didn't last seven hours. By 17:34, exactly seven hours after I had gotten to the grove. I had done many things. I had snapped at Ares everytime he did the slightest thing wrong when we combated, by the end I had broken his sword over his head. I had snapped at my siblings more than often. Hermes had simply told me I had a meeting with father at 19:00 and I had told him he was a worthless thief. Artemis had asked me if I wished to go hunting with her today and I brought up Zoë. It was a foul thing to do. But I had done it. Aphrodite had tried flirting with me like usual and I almost snapped her pretty little wrist. Everyone had avoided me today after my fifth snap, no one asked me if I was alright. Just got out of my way.
I was late to the meeting by half an hour. It was 19:30 when I had walked in. And my father sat upon his throne and scowled.
“Athena!"
He snapped and lightning cracked. And that annoyed me. Him? Snapping at me? How dare he!
"Yes."
I respond through gritted teeth and a clenched jaw. His hand scratched against the marble of his throne.
"Don't speak to me like that—"
he started but I interrupted.
"Don't speak to me like that, I'm better than you'll ever be."
I said it with confidence. I said it like I haven't signed my death certificate. I said it like Apollo hadn't just came back from being mortal. I said it like I owned the world. Which, I technically did. I owned government. I owned democracy. I owned science and mathematics and civilization. I owned arts and crafts. The world might as well have been mine. But I was snapped out of my delusions by a sharp snap. It was hot and it felt like needles poking into sunburnt skin. I opened my mouth to scream but nothing came out. I felt like my lungs and other organs were exploding. I started choking. The ringing in my ears got worse and worse. I could see smoke rising until my eyeballs shriveled up from the heat. I then felt like I was falling. The air whipping around my burning face as I fell through cold air. I didn't see anything, couldn't. I just felt as I fell down and down like Icarus....