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Athena had just killed her best friend. One of the only people in this world who accepted that she couldn’t control how she looked and that she’d never chose to look like a mixture of two animals. Athena had propped the murder weapon up in the corner of her room. It would forever serve as a reminder of what she had destroyed.
Zeus had dragged her up to Olympus after the incident. Triton hadn’t wanted to see her after she had killed his daughter. That was understandable, she didn’t want to see herself either.
She glanced up at her mirror and debated smashing it, but she didn’t. She deserved to suffer for her crimes. She stared at herself instead. Her mothers eyes stared back at her. They didn’t belong in the face of a murderer. Maybe that was why her Father had sent her away. He already knew she was evil and would only bring destruction to people she was close with, afterall she diddn’t look like any of the other gods with their sacred animals. Then she caught sight of her hair and remembered a story that her mother had told her from a war she fought in. After the war had finished many of the survivors had cut and burnt their hair as a way of offering tribute to those who had lost their lives.
She remembered asking her mother how people could have lost their lives if they were all immortals. How foolish she had been.
She turned away from her mirror and retrieved her knife from her belongings she hadn’t yet bothered to unpack. Her father had given her the knife before he had sent her away. She had never used the knife before but now seemed like the right time.
She hacked at her hair, it fell away easily. Within minutes the floor in front of her was littered with locks of orange hair. Once she was satisfied with how her hair look she stepped away from the mirror. As she stepped back her wing hit the wall behind her. She hated her wings. They were unnatural and incredibly uncomfortable underwater where she had spent most of her life. She looked down at the knife still in her hand, she could get rid of them. Then they’d never weigh her down again. Maybe if they grew back they would be normal and she’d no longer be a freak.
She refused to make eye contact with herself. She didn’t think she would be able to look into her mothers eyes while doing this. It hurt so much digging the knife into her flesh again and again and again. She realised after a few minuets that the knife wasn’t strong enough to cut all the way through her wing. So she gave up and let the knife fall to the floor with her locks of hair, the blood from her cuts had soaked the hair making it look even more red than usual.
She moved to her other wing after realising how futile the cutting was and tried to just pull it off her back. After a short while of tugging she felt something pop out of place and then a weirdly heave weight on her back. It took her a second to realise she had dislocated her wing. All that effort and it hadn’t even come of and now it hurt even worse than the wing she had cut.
She decided to give up for the day and dragged herself over to her bed. She arranged the limp wing on the bed before pulling the other one over her like a bloody mangled blanket.
She woke up to the sound of a woman's horrified scream. She had no idea how long she had been asleep for, she only knew that her dreams had been haunted by Pallas’ lifeless eyes.
After a moment she managed to work out that the woman was the Queen, Hera. She tried to pull herself up so she could bow but she fell back against her bed, twisting her wing painfully.
“Oh Honey,” Hera crossed the room before Athena could work out what was happening. It hurt a lot but she shouldn’t cry in front of the queen of the gods. It wasn’t proper. “What happened to you darling?” Hera asked gently as she helped to adjust Athena so she wasn’t trapping her wing underneath her.
Before she could answer Hera’s eyes fell on the floor next to the mirror. She took in the sight of the hair and the handful of crooked feathers, both drenched in the blood of a child. A child who was hurting and alone. The knife had been discarded at the top of the pile.
She didn’t speak as she picked Athena up, ignoring the crowlets indignant protest the girl was too weak to fight against her. Which wasn’t great for a goddess of war but it was a mercy for Hera. They finally reached Apollo’s domain after what felt like forever. Athena quieted down far too quickly for Hera’s liking. It was as if she had just accepted that fighting was a losing battle— which it was— and had given up. That was incredibly strange thing for Athena. In the letters Triton had sent Zeus, letters Zeus hadn’t even opened, she had been described as full of life and incredibly unique and not as someone who gave up without a fight.
Hera had knocked on the door to Apollos domain, it wasn’t strictly necessary and plenty of lesser deities just walked in but Hera didn’t want just anyone to see Athena like this. She waited outside until Apollo came out to greet her. He had never actually seen his half sister, she had been banished before he was born and had only returned a few days ago, all of which had been spent in her room.
He had led them to a private room, talking to Hera while Athena lay there numbly.
“This is Athena,” Hera explained, “Your eldest sister on your Fathers side. She needs healing and rest. You will come to me instead of her Father if you need anything to do with her physical or mental health. Do you understand?”
“Yes Queen Hera.” Apollo replied respectfully before turning to take in his half sister for the first time. She looked dreadful to be blunt. “Will you be staying with her or not?”
“I need to talk to Zeus but I will return later.” With that Hera swept herself out of the room leaving Apollo alone with his hybrid sister. He had heard the stories that she looked like a mix of a crow and an owl. Apparently this meant she was a hybrid which had always sounded super cool to Apollo when he was younger. Until he had heard his father tell the story. The hatred in his words had made Apollo fear for himself and he was ‘normal’ in his fathers eyes.
“Athena?” Apollo asked, checking how responsive she was. She didn’t move. “Can you hear me?” She nodded slightly. “Can you speak?” She nodded again. “Can you tell me what happened?”
“There was an accident.” She said slowly, as if thinking out every word carefully. “And my wings didn’t fully cooperate.” Apollo could tell she was lying. His truth domain was blaring with how obvious her lies were but he let it be. She could tell him exactly what happened after he had healed her.
She lay completely still as Apollo cleaned her wing and then started to sow it back to her body properly. She would’ve been the ideal patient if it wasn’t so concerning. She didn’t wince in pain, not even when Apollo cleaned the wound. He offered her pain medication and she didn’t say anything, she just lay there staring at the ceiling. She moved where he told her too when he told her to but she ignored his small talk that was an attempt to make the whole interaction feel less awkward.
He made her lie on her front so he could relocate her wing and then wrap them both in a firm cloth so that they would heal correctly. “You won't be able to fly for at least a year.” He commented once she was lying comfortably again.
“I know.” Was the only response she gave which gave Apollo an incredibly unsettled feeling. He didn’t want to let her leave just yet. He packed up his equipment in silence. “You’re staying the night.” He told her as he walked towards the door. She didn’t say anything in response.
The next morning Hera showed up again. There were a handful of cuts on her palm that apollo bandaged without a word before showing her into his office.
“What happened to her?” He asked the second the door closed behind him. “She just said there was an accident with her wings.
Hera looked slightly uncomfortable at that. “It wasn’t an accident.” Apollo had guessed that himself, “From what I could see of her room she cut her hair, most likely in grief, and then tried to do the same with her wings.”
Apollo wanted to be sick. How could she have done that to herself. He couldn’t imagine even pulling a feather out of his own wings let alone trying to get rid of them completely. “Why would she do that?” He asked in confusion.
“Well this isn’t really something that I’m supposed to share with anyone but we can pretend it’s for medical reasons.” Hera said, sitting down on one of his chairs. “I was there the day she was born. It wasn’t a very nice day and I don’t think I’ve ever talked about it to someone who wasn’t in attendance at the event.”
Hera explained the story of Athena’s birth. She explained the fear that had been in Athena’s eyes, and the disgust that had been in Zeus’. She explained the words of hatred that Zeus had spoken to her daughter and then the words he had spoken to her later in private. His favourite term to use for her was ‘hybrid freak’. He had also called her a ‘dirty half-breed’ until Poseidon had pointed out that she wasn’t a half breed any more than the other gods were.
When Hera finally finished her story Apollo felt sick. He couldn’t believe that Zeus could talk about his own daughter like that. He would have hoped that Athena wouldn’t have internalised that but he feared that was not the case. “Would you like to see her?” He asked finally, “I’ve stitched her up but I wanted to wait for your consent to discharge her.”
They walked back through the infirmary to the room Apollo had left her in. Athena was lying in exactly the same position she had been in when he had left and he realised with a sinking feeling of dread that he had forgotten to feed her.
“Athena,” Apollo greeted as he pushed open the door to the room, allowing Hera to follow him in before he shut the door again. “"How are you feeling?” Athena didn’t acknowledge them. She just lay there as still as a statue.
“Athena?” Hera asked and this time Athena turned her head slightly to look at her. She didn’t try to stand and bow this time and Hera didn’t know if it was an improvement or not. “How are you feeling?” Athena didn’t respond. Hera crossed the room to Athena’s bed in 2 steps and sat on the edge of it. She didn’t want to play the ‘I’m the queen’ card but if Athena insisted on being stubborn. “Athena, you are going to answer me. I am your queen and your superior so you are going to tell me how you’re feeling.”
Athena had a weird look in her eyes. “I’m fine.” She said after a pause.
“No you’re not.” Hera said firmly. “Tell the truth.”
“My wings hurt.” She said finally, refusing to make eye contact with Hera.
“Would you like Apollo to get you some pain medication?”
“I don’t care.” Hera was trying to be patient with Athena she really was but the girl wasn’t helping her case.
“Fine.” Hera responded sharply. “You can stay here one more night and then I will come and get you and you will walk yourself back to your domain. Athena nodded slightly a hint of fear in her eyes.
“Hera stood up prepared to leave when she heard a soft “Sorry.” From behind her. She turned back to her.
“Apollo can you leave us?” Hera asked but it was more of a command, Apollo stood and left the room silently and Hera sat back next to Athena. “Oh honey, what are we going to do with you.” Athena still looked scared. “I don’t bite,” Hera teased softly, “I just want to know my niece is okay.”
That seemed to startle Athena, “Your niece?”
“You are my brother's daughter are you not?” Hera saw a hint of a smile on Athena’s face for the first time.
“Thank you, aunt Hera.” She said softly, sitting up properly. “Can I go back to my rooms today?”
“Of course darling.” Hera smiled, glad Athena was finally cooperating. “Let me just go and ask Apollo.” She left the room, quickly locating Apollo and asking him if Athena could leave. He gave the all clear and when Hera returned to Athena she was standing up looking vastly different from the girl who had been refusing to speak ten minutes ago.
They walked back to Athena’s rooms with a stead flow of small talk where Athena revealed precisely nothing about herself. Hera didn’t push too hard because she didn’t want the girl to shut down again. When they reached Athena’s chambers Hera let her enter alone. “Tell me if you need anything. As your aunt not your queen.”
Athena pushed open the door and her eyes fell on the bloodstained locks of hair. She knelt next to the mirror and gathered them up placing them in a small box. Then she filled the box with water so she could clean them. Finally she placed them in a box Pallas had made her. She did the same with the knife but she decided to bin the feathers.
She left the spear where it was. Pallas’ dried blood still coating the tip red.