Coming Out of the Dark [Ancient Egypt] (tag: Isis)
Hera was a survivor. She’d had to become one out of necessity. Her earliest memories were filled with darkness and pain and terror. If she hadn’t made herself strong, if she hadn’t gotten tough, it was possible that would have driven her insane. The idea that she would not be in control of her own mind, because of the actions of someone else, was so infuriating and repugnant that Hera had made the decision then and there that she would never give in to it. So she’d fought back the darkness inside herself, she swallowed the terror and she embraced the pain until it was part of her. Until it wouldn’t overwhelm her. Until she could not only survive, but truly live.
How odd that it had come to this then. She’d staved off the madness that the actions of her father could have caused, only to fall prey to that very ailment because of her husband. Perhaps that was her own fault. She’d let her guard down, and Zeus had managed to get under her skin. Into her heart. He’d gotten into her heart. That was something their father had never managed, so maybe that was where she had gone wrong, letting Zeus have a claim on her in such a personal way.
But she couldn’t help it. She loved him. She hadn’t wanted to. Hera was not his first wife, and she’d seen what her brother was like. But he’d wooed her, and somehow, he broke down the walls she’d used to protect herself for as long as she could remember. And so she’d believed him, believed the sweet words he’d used, believed the promises he’d hinted at, believed that she would be different. After all, she was stronger than the other women he’d been with, so he wouldn’t dare to treat her with little regard or care. At least, that’s what she’d believed.
But he had done just that. Worse. He’d done worse than that. It was not only that he’d betrayed her trust and loyalty by cheating on her. It was not only that he sometimes chose mortals to lie with, mortals who were little better than animals. It was not only that he had children with those animals, with those other goddesses. All of that she could have borne, painful and hurtful as it would have been. All of that might have driven her to the edge of her reason, but it would not have pushed her over.
What shoved her past the precipice had been the way he treated those bastard children in comparison to how he treated his legitimate offspring with her. Though he may not have swallowed them, imprisoned them, constrained them the way she had been by their father, Zeus hurt his children just as badly. Perhaps more. There was emotional and mental distress being inflicted upon her babies, and she could not stand it. Not after everything else he had done to her. The injury piled upon the many, many, many insults was too much.
She’d broken.
Hera was not proud of that. Out of all that she had done, and she could now recognize that she had done some truly horrific things, what bothered her most was that she’d been broken. Truthfully, she could not even completely recall all that she had done. In some instances, the rage that clouded her brain made the edges of remembrance fuzzy and imprecise. Perhaps that was for the best, because some of what she could recall was terrible. She was not sorry for the women; they made their own beds, then lay in them with her husband. She’d perhaps gone beyond what punishment would be fair, but punishment had been deserved nonetheless. But the children…
Children did not have a choice in who they were born to, nor the conditions that brought them into the world. Hera recognized that keenly, because her own children deserved a far better father than the one with whom they were stuck. What she had done to those children was unspeakable. And it was Zeus’ fault. When the understanding of what had happened at her hand truly filtered into Hera’s mind, when she had a moment of clarity in the midst of all the pain and rage, she knew that she needed to get away from him. She had to leave before she became something even worse.
It had been necessary to leave her own children behind, before she lost herself to the monster she was becoming. Hera could do them no good then. They had to be her priority. Not Zeus. Not the pain he caused her. Not how much she still loved him even while she hated him. She needed to find a way to build the walls again, to protect herself so that she could protect her children. Painful as that decision was, once Hera made it, she’d acted upon it.
Telling no one, she had simply left. Not just her temple or Olympus, but Greece. She’d left Greece and the surrounding areas. It would be too easy to find her if she was anywhere nearby, and Hera did not want to be found. Not yet, not until she had more control. However long that might take. Truthfully, she wasn’t certain exactly where she was, and she thought maybe that was for the best. If she didn’t know, how could anyone else? This hot place, this would be her penance until she could cleanse herself and become strong again. Hera wasn’t certain how to accomplish that, but she would.