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Athena looked beautiful in the dress she wore; she knew it and she hoped everyone else would. It was picked out by her father, an intricate design of overlapping silvers and blues that almost— tauntingly— looked like waves. It reminded her of her home, her previous one. Then again, almost everything did. The way someone laughed, a specific shade of blue that Pallas used to wear, the sea shells that looked like the ones she hung in her room, the list seemed to be never ending. Some days she wanted to cry from the unfairness of it all, but she couldn’t allow herself to, especially not now, when she would smudge the very pretty makeup some nymphs had put on her face.
So, with no other option, she looked at herself in the mirror one final time. The nymphs had struggled to arrange her hair into something somewhat presentable— which was made quite difficult by her impromptu haircut the first night she came to Olympus, her once long red curls shortened to upwards of her shoulders— and, thankfully, they had left the small blue braids on either side of her head untouched. They had been a boon from the goddess Aphrodite the first time they had met, a sign of her and Pallas’ friendship. Despite everything that happened, it was nice to have her by her side, even if it was only in two strands of hair.
In addition to her dress, sandals and makeup, all of which had been chosen for her beforehand, she was allowed to pick one accessory for herself and she was pleased with her decision. The simple shell necklace worked well with her outfit and, at the same time, was a reminder of Pallas’ love for her. It had been a birthday present that she had bene given right before the dreaded tournament, meant to bring her courage and strength. It had done so then— maybe a bit too much strength— and she hoped it would do so again.
With a deep breath, she exited her room and flew to join her father, who was waiting in front of her palace.
“Hello, Father. I hope I did not keep you waiting too long,” she said politely.
“No, daughter, of course not. Besides, this is your night, the moment Olympus gets to meet its newest goddess. Enjoy it. Make yourself known,” replied Zeus as he looked her up and down. To her surprise, he smiled and it seemed genuine, even kind. “You are beautiful, though I’m sure you already knew that, a girl as smart as you. Come now, don’t blush, give me a twirl.”
He held his hand out and she obliged, turning a few times and smiling as her dress twirled with her, strengthening the impression of waves.
“I am glad to see you are smiling too. Let us go to the banquet hall now, it is rude to keep our guests waiting.” Suddenly, an idea seemed to have struck him and he turned to her. “Or, if you’d rather…”
“I am alright to go. Will we fly there?”
“Yes, I thought it would be nice.”
The first time they had flown together had involved her barely keeping up with him as she struggled to figure out how to use her new wings. The second and, thus far, last time had her once again struggling to keep up, except this time it was due to her unstoppable crying over Pallas’ death and being forced to leave Lake Tritonis.
She mentioned neither of these events. Instead, she nodded and pushed herself into the air.
Fortunately, she had had plenty of time to both strengthen her wing muscles and to calm herself down. This time, she had no problem keeping up. It was, dare she say, kind of nice. Her father was right next to her, showing her tricks and laughing with delight every time she copied him, even when she stumbled and had to try again. It reminded her of Triton’s expressions when she got the hang out some new trick or broke her own record for how fast she could swim.
Soon enough— sooner than she would have liked— they arrived in front of the doors of the banquet hall.
“There is nothing to be afraid of, Athena. They will all be happy to see which new goddess will join their ranks and my counsel. And if they aren’t, they will have my wrath. You do not have to worry about a single thing. Is that understood?”
“Yes, Father,” she answered, though she was not sure how many of his words truly got through her head. Her legs felt like jelly, the way they had before her first tournament, and she struggled to breathe properly, as if she were being held underwater. (Which was a rather redundant comparison since she could breathe underwater).
When Zeus extended his hand for her to take, Athena was grateful. She didn’t consider herself a child who needed to hold a parent’s hand— partly because there had been little opportunities for her to do so in the first place, partly because she was twelve— but she was forced to admit that, at that moment, it was what she needed.
As soon as her father opened the doors and started walking to the front of the room, every conversation stopped. There were a few whispers as they walked and Athena forced herself to stand straighter, taller, to seem more imposing. She was on the smaller side, still having grown a considerable amount under Triton’s care, and that fact wasn’t giving her any advantages. However, she was determined not to let it slow her down. Her power relied more on her mind than anything else; that was where her domain currently was. She expected that her role and attributes would expand as time went on, but, for the time being, wisdom was more than enough. Complicated, potentially off-putting, perfect for her. Something that she could take and mold as she pleased.
Once they reached the front of the banquet hall, Zeus let go of Athena’s hand and grabbed a wine goblet, lightly tapping it with a spoon.
“Thank you all for being here for this momentous occasion,” he said in the voice Athena recognized as the one reserved for important people. “I wish to present the goddess joining our ranks, the one who will stay by my side and give me council as both my daughter and a worthy strategist. I present to you: Athena, goddess of wisdom!”
At those words, everyone clapped politely and took a good look at her. Athena hoped she had made a good enough first impression. She knew those stuck.
Eventually, after they had decided that they had formed a good enough initial opinion of Zeus’ newest spawn, the crowd thinned and they went to get themselves some food and drinks.
At that moment, the king lightly pushed his daughter from behind and whispered in her ear: “You might want to go to them too, gather an opinion of them, see what they think about you, that sort of thing. At the very least, get yourself some food. Fates know you could use it.”
The young goddess nodded. She wanted to walk off and follow her father’s advice, but the banquet hall seemed so large for her 12-year old self; she barely had an idea where to go or how to approach this situation. Luckily, wisdom was her domain— albeit a new one— and she soon saw her aunts at a nearby table.
“Good evening, Aunt Hestia, Aunt Demeter,” she greeted with a nod to each.
“Oh, hello, my dear. How are you faring? I know our brother’s gatherings can be… a tad overwhelming.”
“A tad overwhelming is putting it mildly, Hes,” muttered Demeter, before turning to adress Athena. “Are you alright, sweetheart? You can tell us if something is wrong.”
“Yes, I am quite alright,” she replied in an even tone that she hoped hid her true emotions. “I have just come to get myself some food and talk to people, since it’s my first time meeting most of them.”
“You’re smart, networking so early, no wonder they call you the goddess of wisdom. From what I recall, we simply hid during our first public gathering,” replied Demeter with a laugh. However, it didn’t make Athena feel left out of a joke, as other people’s laughs usually did. “Then again, you’ve had some time to grow into yourself, didn’t you?”
“And you will have even more time to do so, niece. You have little need for worry right now.” Hestia grabbed Athena’s wrist and, with quick steps, dragged her to a nearby table. “Here, let me show you the food over here. You’ll love it!”
Only a few minutes later, Athena’s plate was filled with a mix of bread, cheese, fruit, and jam. She didn’t have as much of a sweet tooth as other people, but she didn’t dislike sweet food either.
“Thank you very much. This looks amazing,” said Athena politely before taking a bite of the slice of bread.
Apparently satisfied with themselves, the two older goddesses smiled at her and patted her head.
“We’ll leave you alone now and let you make some friends,” said Demeter as she picked up her own plate. “Enjoy this night, Athena. You deserve it.”
Athena nodded at her, despite the fact that she doubted that she would enjoy it very much, not at least in the traditional sense. She intended to get to know most of the other people, especially the ones which she would be around more in consideration of her role. It was useful to know one’s allies as well as one’s enemies, and she intended to do just that.
Unfortunately, she was starkly aware of the elephant in the room: her own mental and emotional state. Some time had passed since Pallas’ death and since her arrival to Olympus, yet she still wouldn’t say that she was back to her normal self. The more time passed, the more the doubt that she ever would be who she used to be again increased. Unfortunately for her, Olympus didn’t seem to care about the fact. It would go on with or without her, but she intended to not be left behind. She had worked hard for such a goal once, and she would do it again. Then maybe, one day, it indeed wouldn’t be able to go on without her. That was the sort of reputation she wanted to make for herself. That was the reputation she was going to make for herself.
With those thoughts in mind, she started walking around. She still had little idea of where she ought to go, so getting a general idea of the atmosphere and the people surrounding her seemed like a decent place to start. Assess the situation, then plan, then act.
Fortunately, no one she came across seemed bothered by her presence. In fact, most of them were pleased that she had come to talk to them and became impressed at her level of knowledge during their talks. A few patted her head and complimented her beauty, others appreciated her dress and choice of accessories, some even pinched her cheeks and laughed about how “adorable” she was. Personally, Athena couldn’t see it— how could someone responsible for their best friend’s death be considered adorable?— but she didn’t argue with them. Instead, she politely bowed her head and excused herself to go talk to someone else.
Once she had made the rounds of the pavilion, she had figured out a few categories of people. Those she could trust were few and far between, yet they were there. In a pinch, if she truly required help, Aphrodite, Demeter, and Hestia would likely be willing to offer their advice.
Then, there were those she would keep close, not because she trusted them or thought they were lying, but because she was not sure what she ought to think about them. This was the category where the largest chunk of people fell into. They could both be useful and betray her; and she would need to be careful to prevent the latter from happening.
The last category was the people she wished to keep away at all costs. Thankfully, she already knew who those were, and she knew that they felt the same way about her. After what had happened to Pallas, she couldn’t blame them either. She would want to stay away from herself if she could too.
With a sigh, she slid down against the wall in a secluded corner, setting the half-empty plate down on the ground. Her stomach was growling, begging her to eat the delicious food that was within arm’s reach. However, she ignored it. She needed to think about all that had happened in the last two hours and, besides, she wouldn’t die without food.
“Do you mind if I join you?”
The voice broke Athena out of her thoughts and she internally scolded herself for not paying more attention in an environment like this. Her panic spiked even more when she realized who had spoken to her.
“My Queen,” she said as she shakily got to her feet and curtsied, bowing her head. “My apologies, I—”
“Now, what are you getting up for? I said I wanted to join you, did I not?” said Hera, a smile on her face, though Athena couldn’t tell whether it was menacing or sincere. “Well, may I?”
“Of course,” replied Athena as she picked up her plate. She had only met the queen of Olympus once before, right before the tournament with Pallas, but even she was educated in court politics enough to know that one couldn’t deny a question like that from a ruler. “Shall we go to a table?”
“Why would we do that when we have a perfectly good floor in front of us?” Hera sat down on the floor, setting her plate down in front of her criss-crossed legs, and patted the place next to her. “Come now, I won't bite.”
Athena followed the instructions and kept her head down, avoiding the queen’s gaze.
“Do you like the food here?” asked Hera as she picked up her plate. “I’m sure it’s different from the one in Lake Tritonis, but you must like some of the things served here.”
“I do. The bread is quite good. It keeps better than the one people ate underwater,” replied Athena, following Hera’s lead. “I like what I have tried so far.”
“You do? That’s good then.” They ate in silence for a few minutes, neither willing to be the one to talk first. Finally, Hera spoke: “How are you settling in? Zeus hasn’t checked on you very often from what I hear.”
“I’m settling in well. My father has no need to check on me unless he wishes to; I am capable of taking care of myself.”
“Of course you are,” replied the queen, her voice tinged with an emotion Athena couldn’t quite detect. Suddenly, she placed her fingers underneath the younger goddess’ chin, tilting her head upwards to look her in the eyes. “But you are still a child, despite all that has happened. Or has he decided to ignore that?”
“It is not my place to speak upon these issues.” Athena still refused to meet Hera’s gaze directly, the eye contact lasting less than a second before it was gone. “Truly, I am doing alright. There is no need for someone of your status to be concerned for someone like me.”
“How about you let me decide that, why don’t you?” Hera kept her fingers underneath Athena’s chin, occasionally moving her head to get a better look at her. “No injuries, or at least none that are visible. That’s good. You could stand to gain a bit of weight though. You ought to sleep some more too. You need to keep yourself healthy, even if your father refuses to.”
Athena nodded, not daring to speak a word. As if on instinct, she extended her wings and brought them closer to her shoulders, almost like a poor imitation of a hug. “Thank you for the advice. I will heed it.”
“See to it that you do,” replied Hera as she ran a finger over some of Athena’s feathers, the touch light enough that the younger goddess could make the decision to pull away if she wanted to. “I doubt I need to tell you this, but I will anyway. Olympus is a cruel place; do not let it break you or your spirit. Keep yourself safe and, if you cannot— and I cannot stress this enough— ask for help from those you trust. Do you understand?”
“Yes, my queen.” Athena leaned into Hera’s touch, extending her wings even more until they were touching the ground. With some hesitancy, she breathed deeply and then asked: “Is there a specific reason you approached me?”
“You are my step-daughter, though I understand if you do not wish to refer to me as your step-mother. You are also a new goddess— and a child one at that— in a world that is strange to you. If my husband refuses to offer you help, then I will.”
With those words, Hera stood up, her now empty plate in one hand. “It has been interesting talking to you, goddess of wisdom. I hope to see you later, Athena.”
“Likewise, my queen,” said Athena with a slightly confused expression on her face.
She didn’t quite understand why anyone would care for her, especially someone like Hera, who had no reason to, though she didn’t find that she was too upset by the conversation. It had left a deep longing in her heart— no, that wasn’t it. It had opened the gaping hole that she had struggled so much to hide and now she was left to deal with the aftermath.
“Not now. Later,” she thought to herself. She stood up, took her plate, and closed her wings behind her, as if she were locking the whole conversation behind a vault that only she had the key to. “I will deal with this whole mess later, where no one can see me. Yes, I just need to get through this party. That’s all. I can do it. I have to do it.”
Whether Hera was friend or foe, Athena didn’t yet know. The interaction had been far too confusing for her to give a definite answer, but she was sure there would be many more such conversations in her future.
After all, she was no longer living on Lake Tritonis. No, she was an Olympian, a goddess of wisdom.