HRM King Zeus Keraunios (hrm_king_zeus) wrote in the_greeks, @ 2010-07-10 19:56:00 |
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Entry tags: | athena, zeus |
Athena and Zeus: Birth of Athena
Who: Athena and Zeus
What: The Birth of Athena
Where: Olympus
Rating: K+
Headaches. The king had felt practically crippled by them over the previous days and weeks. They were strong, persistent, and nothing, it seemed, that he could do would alleviate them. And it was that feeling, that blinding, horrible pain--it felt as if his head were being split open, from the inside--that brought the king of the gods to order the curtains drawn tightly over every window in the throne room.
The whole room was darkened, candles faintly flickering providing the only lighting. Indeed, the sunlight appeared only to aggravate the king's condition, and so his attendants had taken precautions, and attempted to make him more comfortable. He was seated on the throne, reading over some documents, when the latest in the wave of headaches seized him, and he rubbed his temples.
A small groan escaped him, and his attendants rushed over, carefully examining him for the umpteenth time. There was hushed, barely audible murmuring amongst them, before one ventured to speak.
"Majesty... we fear that there might be something inside of your head causing this..."
Zeus looked at the man, contempt in his gaze, and rose from his throne, as the anger surged through him.
"And what, pray tell, could there possibly be in my head?" He looked crazed, almost deranged. They were plotting to take his power, his throne, his everything away from him, all that he had worked so hard to build. He had no son, no true heir, nothing but a few useless daughters, three of whom had taken up residence in the Underworld and proven to be good emissaries, but the king thought that his succession was questionable at best. "I know what you're plotting..." he started to say, but was silenced when the pain washed over him again, and he grabbed the arm of his throne to steady himself.
Inside Zeus' head thundered the daughter of Metis, born within her own father's brow and growing steadily. Metis had already finish the helmet which she had fitted atop her skull, black tresses of hair flowing over and banging loudly inside. Open, he needed to open his head and free her from the prison she was in. She knew he had no son to call his heir, and through his eyes had beheld the daughters of the Titanness he used to call his Queen. Boom! Crash! It was too small of a space for her now, she was no longer the babe she had once been and clamored about to get out.
The banging only continued and her restlessness to be free met with renewed vigor made the headache worse in seconds than it had taken to get this far. She would be silent no further, not until she was able to present herself to her father and hope he would claim her as his own daughter. The time of waiting was through, it was time to get out!
Majesty, you have sought over every possible reason and it is a venture, but...perhaps you do not need to open your entire head...just a small cut would be sufficient to look inside and silence all speculation for good," the attendant who had spoken up initially reasoned, "They are getting worse..."
- Hide quoted text -
"I bloody know they're getting bloody worse! It's going on in my head, isn't it?" Zeus growled, crankily, the last part said through gritted teeth. Thunder rumbled in the distance, a reflection of the king's tempestuous temperament.
"Just make them stop. Figure it out, now, or so help me, you shall wish you'd been imprisoned in Tartarus with my father and his ilk!" he roared. Another attendant squeaked, and several trembled, before one stepped forth from the back with a scalpel. "Majesty, with your permission," he said, though how neither his voice nor hands trembled was a complete mystery to him and the rest.
Zeus nodded, sitting himself on his throne again, with some difficulty; had they dared attempt to move him back to his room, heads would have rolled. The one with the scalpel leaned over him, as the others helped steady the king, and he made a careful incision.
Pain. Zeus felt the pain, but also a sudden release of tension, something he could not quite explain.
"and pealed to the broad sky her clarion cry of war. And Ouranos trembled to hear, and Mother Gaia..." the war cry escaped from his daughter's lips as she literally sprung out from where the attendant had sliced against the king's head. It was cried out with the ferocity of someone rushing into battle, which was rather fitting since she had been attempting to "battle" her way out. A sight that Athena would not forget lay before her, and most likely none other who were there to witness it would be able to erase it so easily. Seeing a fully grown woman appear dressed in armor crafted no where else but within the King of the Heavens and holding a javelin in one hand didn't happen every day.
Looking around the stormy gray eyed woman took in their faces, she took a single step and a number of attendants stumbled backward, one or two tripping over their own feet. The dim candlelight flickered over the glossy sheen of her breastplate and turning to face the king himself, she was at last able to see her father for herself. Handsome and...quite shocked.
"Hail, King Zeus, King of the Heavens," she said and dropped down to her knee, holding the javelin upright at her side and quickly removing the helmet. The dark hair she'd bunched beneath it cascaded down and revealed her true gender. "Long live the king," she said with conviction, believing every word which she spoke.
Zeus blinked, looking at the sight before him, even as the ichor that came forth from the incision worked to heal the cut itself. He was silent for several moments as he processed what had just happened, the surprise, the downright awe evident in his features. She had sprung forth from his head, had come from him, born of him. He had never seen, and could never have imagined, such a thing. He certainly would never have thought such things could occur when he had swallowed his first queen--the queen to whom the young woman in front of him, even in his daze, bore no insignificant resemblance.
Then, he looked at her--really looked at her. She was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen, perfect in every way, every bit a reflection of her father. She was his daughter. In that moment, something softened within the king whom had been so wary of his continued production of girls. No longer did he feel plagued by such things, no longer was it even a concern. In that moment, it was as if he knew that everything would be alright. This girl, this gray-eyed goddess in shining armor who had come from his head, she had changed everything.
He rose from his throne, a smile tugging at his lips as he stepped forward.
"You are my daughter," he said, a hint of that awe in his voice. And there was no question about it, no slight upward inflection at the end. It was as if doubt itself had been erased from the King's mind by her appearance.
"Please, rise," he said, offering her his hands. "And what shall I call you?" he asked.
The waiting felt much longer than it really was. Each second that passed had her growing more concerned that she would not be accepted. For it was only her father's love she sought, promising devotion which she would give. His calling her his daughter made all the muscles in her body loosen from being held so tightly, the lip she'd taken to biting down on formed something of a smirk. She pressed her lips together though, forming a smile as she took his hands.
"I was called Athena by she who carried me in her womb," she said not yet meeting the gaze of His Majesty, "But born from your head, so you are the only parent I do and will ever know." Another bow, knowing when to give respect when it was due.
The attendants now began to stir, a couple whispering at the shock of how Zeus responded to the entire affair. Athena's gaze was unwavering as it slowly lifted to meet her father's, the smile forming filled with admiration. She couldn't help herself. "May I call you father?" She wished to, but if he were tell her no, she would obey his wishes respectfully.
The Sky King's smile broadened. "Wise Athena, I should like nothing more than for you to call me father, as I shall call you daughter," he said.
His attention briefly turned to the attendants. "Come now, we must make this place more presentable, more lively," he told them, waving his hand. "I want a feast prepared, where I shall introduce my daughter to the court properly," he announced, looking back to Athena as they scurried about, taking down the hangings and beginning to ready things. He felt a sudden sense of fatherly pride as he gazed upon her, impressed with her grace, her manners, and that aura of wisdom that seemed to radiate from her.
Then, seized by some sort of previously unknown paternal urge, he hugged her--his daughter, his own daughter, born from his head.
"Would you like to see my thunderbolts?" he asked, offering her what he had never offered anyone before.
"Father," she quite liked being able to call him that, "I would love to, and more than honored to have the privilege. Such a powerful weapon, one strike it and it will draw attention from miles around. Truly unmatched. Yes, please, father." The hug still felt warm around her and she couldn't seem to wipe the smile from her face. Not that she was trying, however, having her father so easily accept her meant the world to her. She promised herself silently she would be the best daughter he could ever want, and be more valiant than any son he might eventually have.
A glint of mischief in her eyes she added, "I hear you are also skilled in the joust and swordplay...I would love to see you in action, battling your brothers perhaps? Though, while I am unmatched to your strength and ability, I would love to try it for myself as well."
Athena did see herself as a daughter, but not as a lady of the court content to stand aside and watch. The armor she wore was more than just a parting gift from her mother, but a symbol of everything she was. "If you would permit me, of course."
"Of course, all of those things, daughter," he said, and how proud he was, already, of her was evident in his voice.