Fireside

Athena

There were more important things to be concerned with.

Her father and uncle were still at odds with each other, and as usual, the younger gods were caught in the crossfire. She had a battle to plan, strategies to polish and heroes to guide. Her owls needed tending to, lest they staged a coup of their own. She was only halfway through her studies, with very little time in the day to progress them. And to top everything off, a little mortal girl was claiming to be more prolific in the art of weaving than the goddess herself.

So many things to do, to take care of, and therefore no reason to dawdle.

Yet here she was, at her aunt's pillar, with a baby in her basket.

She glanced at the infant squirming among the sheets, in place of where her father's thunderbolts were supposed to be. The baby looked up at her, as if preparing to once again wail her ears off. Athena acted quickly, swinging the basket in the motion of a rocking cradle. The baby's lips ceased their trembling, soothed by the swaying of the wickerwork. She breathed a sigh of relief.

"Let me get this straight," her aunt said as she sat in the most comfortable klismos Athena had ever seen. "Hephaestus slept with Gaia, thinking she was you, and then she left their son in your care?"

"My son," Athena hissed the words through clenched teeth. She could feel rage consuming her body, and she wanted desperately to throw something in order to shake off the emotion. She wasn't her brother Ares. She was the calm, collected one. "Gaia made the fact perfectly clear when she left this on my doorstep."

Hestia blinked, trying to make sense of the situation. The goddess of wisdom couldn't really blame her aunt. The claim made no sense, as it was Gaia who'd borne the child.

The hearth goddess left her seat and moved closer. When she was an arm's length away, Athena held the basket aloft so her aunt could peek into it. She watched as the the older goddess' brows crumpled, observing what she'd first noticed of the infant.

Despite the evident parentage, the baby's shell resembled neither Gaia nor Hephaestus. There was neither crippled limb nor mangled face upon the tiny body. The creation goddess' plump attributes were absent as well. Instead, well-rounded, snake-like limbs clutched at the linen blanket, as quick and strong as the war goddess'. Stormy gray eyes, filled with curiosity, wonder and just a touch of fear, were set in an adorable little head.

It was obvious who the little one resembled.

"Confounding indeed," Hestia said as she took the baby from its makeshift carrier. The older goddess, used to carrying the squirmy little things around, placed the babe upon her warm breast. It calmed immediately. "I don't understand how this could happen."

"Neither do I, and I'm the goddess of wisdom." Athena looked on with awe as her aunt bounced the child, eliciting a carefree gurgle from it. Hestia cooed, running a soothing finger over its cheek, and its tiny face immediately turned towards the digit. Both immortals looked perfectly content to entertain each other, the bond as baffling to Athena as the nature of the baby's features. "It's not supposed to look like me."

Hestia plucked a daffodil from the kylix on her table. She brushed its delicate petals over the baby's mouth, which opened instinctively upon contact. It began suckling at the half-open bud, drawing nectar from the flower for sustenance. "But he does, so clearly it wasn't Gaia occupying Hephaestus' mind while they were doing the deed."

This time it was heat that engulfed Athena's entire body. Her hand dropped, lowering the basket to her side. How Hephaestus could still harness desire for her, especially after Zeus declared her untouchable to all the other gods, she didn't know. She thought all that misplaced infatuation would've vanished in the wake of his union to Aphrodite, but clearly this wasn't the case. The poor smith really was trapped in an unhappy marriage. "So you're saying this was my fault? That I had a hand in this?"