Thalia's tears made Gaia's heart ache as she took her granddaughter into her arms and held her. All of Clio's warnings about her were true, of course -- she was a dangerous and tempestuous goddess, and had been married to a tyrant who played games with mortal emptires for centuries. But the influence of her dear pagans, who wrote a fanciful narrative of an all-nurturing being of spun sugar and love, tugged at her heart whenever she saw her babies hurting.
"Shh," she murmured, guiding Thalia just inside the apartment and nudging the door closed. The chaotic ruin within the place was taken in and processed with a look; this place could be no home for Thalia anymore, not until it was cleaned.
"Now honey," Gaia said into the Muse's hair, "Do you know who it was who found you?"