Chapter Text
I was a child when the war started. Before then, life was nearly ideal. Running through the meadows with my sisters, Hide-and-Seek with our brothers on Olympus. When our mothers and aunts joined in it was children versus adults. When our father Zeus and uncles Aidoneus and Poseidon were present, though, the boys wouldn’t play. They all wanted to please our father, to be worthy of his love. But our father only loved beautiful women: our mothers, our cousins, the mortals that were made to worship him. Even a new goddess, Aphrodite. When she had sworn her allegiance to him, a frightening look reached my father’s eyes, like a hunger then unknown to me. I’d started to understand days later whilst playing.
I was hiding in the stables, waiting for Hebe to find me when I heard a noise from an empty stall. When I approached, I found my father had Aphrodite pressed against the back wall. Their clothes were in complete disarray, so unlike the careful perfection she always presented. His face was buried in her neck and her arms and bare legs were wrapped around him, pulling him tight. His hips were moving in a hard and fast rhythm against her, but her face memorized me. While he kept his pace, her face relaxed in contentment, but sporadically her head would fall back with a cry. As my bather sped up, she covered her mouth with the back of her hand, stifling herself. Her eyes squeezed shut in what seemed pain, and yet she clutched my father closer. With a growl and a moan, both their bodies stiffened, then visibly relaxed. Unsure of what I saw, I slipped out of the stable and to the great hall, no longer wishing to play.
I was sitting on a step of the dais to my father’s throne when Aidoneus, my uncle, walked in. Normally he had little time for children, too serious for our games. The closest to a smile I’d ever seen from him was when he was with his mistress, a nymph called Luce. She’d whisper in his ear and the corner of his lips would turn up, but it never reached his eyes. He stood now watching me a moment, as if trying to memorize what a silent child looked like.
"What happened?" he asked in his flat way. What did happen? I didn’t know so simply shrugged. “Do you know where your father is?”
"In the stables, with Aphrodite." My voice dropped to a whisper at her name, not sure if it was right to say.
My uncle’s dark blue eyes fell on me and he paused. “Did you see them there?” I nodded. “Is what you saw something you don’t understand?” I nodded again. His lips, for the briefest second, turned down, then he was back to his mask of neutrality. “If you’re curious about it, your mother can tell you, but no one else. Your father’s… activities are not something that should be talked about with your siblings.” After nodding my understanding, he left.
I didn’t get a chance to ask my mother about it. At supper that night she had glared daggers at my father across the dining hall. After supper, she pulled my aunts into a corner, the lot of them whispering furiously back and forth. The next morning, my mother had taken me and my half-sisters Athena and Artemis to a new home. She told us Aunt Hera was going to bring Hebe and Eilithyia soon. For now, though, it was the three of us and an entire island wilderness to ourselves.
Some days we explored the woods with Artemis, her studying the tracks left by animals. Other days we ran through the meadows, picking flowers that opened at my touch. When we tired, Athena would read to us as Artemis fletched arrows and I wove garlands and wreathes. Baby-faced Hebe and doting Eilithyia did join us, but Hera was so protective of her daughters, they were often taken away again.
Occasionally, Mother would allow our brothers to visit, but it grew more rare as we got older. Ares often brought wood, then bronze, weapons, pretending to fight an invisible foe. Apollo would play music as we rested, silly songs turning into stories of conquered love. Hermes started playing tricks, stealing wreaths from my head, hiding Artemis’ bow, and destroying Athena’s scrolls.
Even less often would my father and aunts and uncles visit. They had grown more serious when they were away. Often we were ignored for private discussions punctuated by shouting and annoyed sighs. Only wise Athena, already fully grown when she was born, was allowed to join in. Her role amongst the adults made her more thoughtful, often foregoing our explorations to merely sit and think. Artemis became more serious as well, preferring archery practice over anything.
Then my mother took us home to Olympus. She sat me down, her only child and dearest love, and explained that we were going to war against the Titans. She told me of how as infants, she and my aunts and uncles had all been swallowed by my grandfather Cronos. Only my father Zeus had survived and grown. When he was a man, he’d rescued his siblings and thrown his horrible father off Olympus. Now my grandfather and his brothers were coming for revenge. But, my mother had added, I need not fear as we had Titans on our side, Titans who wanted Zeus and his family to rule. And I was safe, she said, so long as I did not leave Olympus without her.
The great hall was converted to a war room, Olympians and allies bent over tables of scrolls and charts. Again, Athena was the only one of us children allowed to join. Ares would rage at being excluded, taking out his aggression in practice battles against Apollo. Artemis became the most skilled of us with a bow, teaching herself to shoot from horseback and chariot. Mischievous Hermes had been gifted a pair of winged sandals and would use his tricks as an excuse to practice flitting about. Even lame Hephaestus, always ignored, tried to help in the war effort. He had learned smithing and so made swords for us children before moving on to spears for the fighters.
We knew the war had officially begun when the adults were gone. In the early hours, Ares’ screaming rage had woken us to the emptiness of the halls. Athena, our own sister, had also gone. Only Hestia remained to look after us. Our poor aunt with eight youths and maids wanting to take part in a war we were barred from. She gave us tasks, trying to keep us busy and distracted. The eldest among us, especially Ares, were not so easily swayed. He often slipped away to battle his invisible foes or to the war room, trying to determine where the fighting was.
For that first year, the only one of us that got to help in any way was Hephaestus, making brilliant weapons for those fighting. Finally, as a fully grown man, Ares got to join the battles, then Apollo, Artemis, and Hermes in their time. Eilithyia, Hebe, and I, our mothers’ darlings, were banned from the field. The most we were allowed was to serve the nectar and ambrosia to the fighters returned from campaign. Even Aphrodite, pretty, empty-headed, spiteful Aphrodite, helped the war effort. Father often praised her for information she mysteriously acquired.
After one such early campaign, my understanding of her hold over men, including my father, grew. She had summoned me to her rooms and sat me in front of a polished bronze mirror.
"Look at you," she simpered. "You could be so cute if you tried harder, Kore." I flinched at my childhood nickname, but examined myself. Time indoors had darkened my hair and lightened my skin. The only part of me unchanged from before the war was my eyes, nearly black as the night. I looked ordinary next to her beauty. Against her golden hair and pure skin, I didn’t have a hope.
I watched her work magic on me. Creams and potions were rubbed into my skin, kohl encircled my eyes. My hair was pulled back in a messy knot, wisps and curls still loose about my face. She mixed a bit of red powder with water and painted the stain on my lips. Lastly, she had me stand to “fix” my clothes. She pulled one shoulder loose to hang at my upper arm and untied my belt. After fiddling with the drapes and pleats of my gown to hang more tightly, she re wrapped the belt, starting below my developing breasts and crisscrossing down to my waist.
"There, see how pretty you are now," she cooed as I faced the mirror. "All the boys would just fall over themselves for you like this." I hardly recognized myself. I know longer looked like a girl. But with my half-done hair, revealing clothes, and creamed skin, I also looked like a mockery of womanhood.
"Thank you," I murmured, gently trying to pull away. "I should go. Mother would wonder-"
"Let her. Demeter’s jealous her own daughter is prettier than she is. That’s why she always hides you away. Come on, I want to show you off."
She pulled me swiftly from her rooms into the courtyard. My father was leading the men through drills, turning only when they were too distracted to attend his instruction. When he saw us his jaw dropped, then a look of troubled bemusement crossed his face. The other soldiers grinned and smirked, nudging each other and pointing at us. I wanted so much to run and hide, to fix my hair and correct my clothes. But Aphrodite’s arm around my shoulders held me firm.
"Oh Zeus isn’t Kore adorable?" she giggled. "I think she should start looking more grown up, don’t you? She’ll never get a husband if she keeps dressing like a child."
Some of the men jeered and one taunted, “She’ll get plenty of husbands dressed like that!” before Father turned to glare.
"Dismissed!" he bellowed, knowing he’d never get their full attention back this afternoon. After on last look at me from head to toe, he turned and stomped away. Aphrodite giggled as she finally released her hold of me.
I was able to take only a couple steps before she was surrounded by the laughing, flirting men. As I tried to get away, random hands caressed my breasts, squeezed my bum, held my waist until they were all forced away. Looking up, I found the blue eyes of Aidoneus, his arm protectively around my shoulder, leading me from the crush.
"I think you should was before your mother sees what Aphrodite’s done to you," he whispered in my ear, his voice deepened by concern. I fervently agreed and ran to my rooms, embarrassed at how his voice made my heart skip.