Iris: Goddess of the Rainbow and Messenger (eiris_iris) wrote in history_dot_com, @ 2012-03-07 18:46:00 |
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Entry tags: | ~iris, ~pothos, ~zephyrus |
How Could You?? - Hesiod's Bronze Age [tag: Zephyrus, then Pothos]
What had happened?
Iris awoke in her bed dazed and more than a little confused. She was undressed, which was not altogether unusual given that she was in bed and the fact that her husband lay sleeping beside her. Her hand went to her head, trying to recall what exactly had happened in the hours prior.
She had gotten home, sat on the couch and waited for Zephyrus to get home. Pothos had been in his room -at least as far as she knew. When her husband returned, they had fought. Loudly. Iris had been angry enough that she remembered crying in rage. But what had made her so angry?
Right, she had visited her sister, Podarge, in order to see her new nephews. Iris hadn’t been bothered by the fact that Balios and Xanthos were horses –her sister was a harpy after all. Though how a bird-woman conceived and gave birth to horses she didn’t know. Iris wasn’t going to question it. Stranger things had happened in their pantheon.
Iris had just been delighted that Podarge was a mother. No matter how much it repelled her to think that someone had coupled with her sister, she was still her sister. Podarge might have a pretty face, and a few other womanly characteristics, but she was still part bird. She was still a harpy. But with Podarge having her sons (colts?) meant that Iris was an aunt and that just tickled her so much she had to see them.
It was when her sister not-so-discreetly revealed who the father of the horses in question was that Iris’ swell of pride turned into rage.
Her husband!
Zephyrus, the West Wind, beloved husband of the Rainbow and father to their young son Pothos, had joined with … that harpy… and produced… horses. Was she not enough for him? Was their legitimate son not perfect enough that he had to seek out fathering bastards elsewhere?
And why her sister? Even if Podarge hadn’t been a harpy, it was still her sister. Her flesh and blood.
So many questions she had posed him. Questions that had led to raised voices, which led to screaming -mostly on Iris’ part, and somehow ended with them naked in bed. It didn’t add up. Something was off. She had been seconds away from kicking him out of her house when… something happened.
She wasn’t quite sure what it was but remembering her rage, she flung herself roughly out of bed, grabbed her discarded chiton and girdle from the floor and tugged them both into place. With a loud, irritated groan and not caring if she woke her husband, Iris turned and left the room. This was not over, but first she needed to figure out exactly what had happened. To do that she needed to calm down and to do that she needed wine, peace and quiet.