Who: Hera and Polyhymnia What: Requests Where: Hera and Hestia’s home When: Day after Adam proposes (I think) Warnings: None.
She had only spent half her day at the hotel, returning early with the knowledge that the meeting the following day would most likely take her far past her normal hours. Instead, June Marris, had returned home and was now in the process of going through some old paper work. And some new. Owner of the Jube Hotels, she still kept some of her old clients from working on marriages - a rare select few - and now was looking at those few with a rather political eye. Settling into a chair, she set a mug of fresh tea on the table besides her, and focused on her work.
Shiri had spent much less than half the day tracking June down. Quite frankly, luck and providence were on her side it seemed as she had caught sight of June entering her car and driving away from the hotel just as she pulled her motorcycle up to it.
Trailing her was easy. Miami traffic even made it seem like she wasn’t following, let her hide her motorcycle behind the cars.
And Shiri was ever grateful to providence and luck that she had arrived at the hotel when she had and not a moment later, otherwise she would have never known where to look, She parked her motorcycle in front of the impressive house... the house her Aunt Tessia lived in.
Her mind wouldn’t comprehend them being married. It blocked out the knowledge accept when directly faced with it. No matter. June being married to Tessia was unimportant for her visit... unless she failed. Then maybe she would appeal to her.
But for now, she had waited long enough on her bike to not just be at June’s heels. Now was the time to ring the bell.
Ring ring.
June had just gotten settled into her work, when the annoyance that was the doorbell occurred. She glanced at the little dog as it came forward to investigate, before pushing him back gently and peeking through the small peep hole.
For a moment, the goddess could only stand, confused by the appearance of the albino at the door. Quickly she began to consider different possible reasons for the girl’s arrival, as she reached for the door handle and opened it. She quirked an eyebrow slowly, and left the muse to make the first words.
“Hello, Ms. Marris,” That much Shiri had read from the mail box before ringing the bell. Now face to face with the goddess of marriage and wives, she was beginning to second guess her little plan but she quenched that uncertainty. This was the goddess she wanted to speak to and the woman she needed to speak to all rolled into one. “May I come in?”
The eyebrow stayed arched as she considered the muse. She thought about denying her entrance until it was known what was wanted, but she had been polite, and Hera would return that small courtesy. Stepping back, she gestured for the woman to enter the house. “Very well. Would you like something to drink?” she asked
“No thank you,” Shiri replied as she entered the house, bowing her head to June as she passed the threshold of the house. She couldn’t help but look around as she did so, unable to ignore the perfect combination of warmth and stern formality of the home. “I do not want to inconvenience you.”
With a deep breath, she waited for the door to be shut and then knelt down in front of her, “[Goddess of marriage and wives, I am getting married in two days, civilly, but still I come to you...]” For more reasons than one but formalities first.
Well, well, what was this. As soon as the muse knelt down before her, the goddess of marriage was shifted into a far older set of thought. Her hands clasped loosely before her as she peered down to the woman, and listened to the words. There was a desire to almost stare blankly at her, wondering why she would bother speaking to her, now, when no others seemed entirely inclined to ask her over such matters.
Hera listened then gave the smallest of nods. “[You intend to marry the mortal, Adam.]” She spoke the words simply, remembering now the relationship. Now, what would the muse actually ask? A blessing? Some maternal words of some variety? The last was more unlikely than the formers. She could not see the one before her as one who had not married in the past, nor one to seek advice for such things. However, she could still be surprised, and stood as she waited for her to explain herself.
“[Yes. He is my intended.]” Shiri bowed her head as she spoke the words and then went into the messenger bag that hung at her side. With head still bowed, she lifted the small vased plant out of her bag to present it to the oldest goddess. Leave it to the muse of sacred matters to remember the concept of tributes and that lotus plants were sacred to Hera. “[Good goddess Hera Nympheuomene, I come to ask you for your blessing. I have not always been a good wife to those whom I have pledged myself to and he deserves better.]”
She kept her eyes lowered, “[He even offered me as a symbol of his pledge to me a ring that has been passed to him from this family three generations ago. He will offer me another to accept as my own promise to him. But I have nothing that I can offer for him to accept on our wedding day as the modern tradition demands.. Nothing from my own family that can be passed to him. Goddess Hera Nympheuomene, while I know that this is but a civil marriage that will end at death, a blink of an eye for me, it is his entire being and life he offers to me. It is only by your blessing and your wealth that I make good toward such a true and noble gesture of my intended.]” Leave to the muse of sacred matters to remember the concept of supplication and divine domains.
Had Hera had the time to think and consider something of this nature, she would not have been surprised that a muse, of all those about, would be one to recall her names and symbols to be honored by. Their mother had been one of memory, and she trusted each of the daughters to be much of the same. Now one was before her, honoring her, and much of the formality of things came back to her. But she was not seated up on her throne, and the one before her was not in a temple to call upon her. Things would be different.
Still the goddess drew herself up a bit more, though it was far more a shift of weight than anything. She reached forward to touch the sides of the presented gift, but did not take it into her hands. “[Before I can grant you my blessing, you must prove that you are worthy of it, and have the desire to be a wife worthy. What has made you a poor wife in the past, that you seek to correct in your ways, and not be a poor one once more?]” Her voice was firm as she spoke, challenging the would be wife to speak truly. She suspected an answer would be ready, the question prepared for, but Hera would still force the truth to be acknowledged, and see if the reply suited her.
She paused at the words of the second plea, and let them sink into her. Wealth of her family. She had no mother present to make the request of and her father... Quickly the goddess of marriage and wives understood. Zeus. If one could not reach him, his widow would be best to approach. Now she looked over the younger goddess with a new thought, not as one merely asking for a blessing, but as a daughter looking for her dowry. Something of her family to bring to her new life with her husband. Slowly she took a breath in. “[And what gesture of wealth besides the giving of your immortal self would you have the groom to receive from you?]”
Caught in the midst of formality and direct divine attention -- the fact that it just was the wife of her deceased father did not negate that -- Shiri felt no instinct to evade her questions. She had come to the goddess of marriages and wives for a reason and that reason drove her to comply. “[In this very lifetime, with the face I now wear and the identity I now assume, I have been married once before and I was a terrible wife to my husband. However, I was the wife he deserved as he was a terrible husband and received the respect he offered to me.]”
She then closed her eyes. What gesture of wealth did she ask for? This was where it was going to be a sensitive subject, she assumed. “[As for the gesture, I ask to be able to give him what this modern world dictates I provide. The ring he gives me acts an outward marker of my belonging to him, one he has been given through his generations. I have none to give him as an outward marker of him belonging to me.]”
Hera listened to the words of the goddess kneeling before her, and took the lotus plant into her hands. She examined it carefully for a moment, her eyes moving over the vase it was in, before she answered Polyhymnia. “[There are times when wives must be better than their husbands, to push them the way they wish them to go. How do you intend to respond to your new husband, and present yourself as his wife?]”
However, she paused again, considering the second part of the muse’s request. She could pick the words apart almost and saw the shape of what was being asked. Clearly drawn, she knew. The Muse was asking for a ring. But, as a ring itself would need no special part to it, she was asking for something more. She was asking for a ring from her family. From her father. It would match to the request of a dowry. Slowly the once widow gestured for the other to rise.
The muse rose as soon as she was silently commanded to, even though she had not responded yet to the older goddess’ question, but this was Hera’s show not hers. She would follow instructions completely and totally. She stood, keeping her head at least bowed, “[My last husband could act the way he wished due to power. It was unbalanced and all I could do was morally protest. I have no fear of Adam in the same way but my fear turns inward. I have all the power and he wields what he does due to my good graces. I hope to respond to my husband as a dutiful wife, observant to his authority and station when appropriate and respond to my priest and artist as his goddess and muse when appropriate.]” She had a feeling if any goddess would understand what she was saying it would be Hera, though she wouldn’t be surprised if there were more questions.
The muse was more surprised that she was standing.
The entry way was not the place to be having this form of discussion. Once the muse was standing, Hera began to lead the way through the house, addressing her question over her shoulder to the other. “[And this is the blessing that you seek? That within your marriage you will be able to be a true wife, and still respect your other duties to him, as muse and goddess?]” Despite the words being formed as a question, the tone was more of a statement. She did not doubt that she had understand what was being spoken, but the desire to have it stated, to have the true understanding known between them, was far more the goal.
As she lead through the house, she had a very specific location in mind. Stepping through a door, an office space was revealed. Most of the wood was dark and rich. Shelves of books and various items lined the walls, a few with glass doors to protect what was displayed behind them. On the desk a vase of tall peacock feathers sat, as well as many of the common modern tools. Off too one side was a couch with a coffee table and end table, a plush chair not far from either end. As Hera entered the room she walked directly for the desk, setting the lotus upon it, then turned to look to the muse.
“[Yes. I want to be a good wife to him. He deserves a good wife.]” Probably better than she could actually provide but Shiri understood she was biased on her opinion on that. Love blinded one and highly valued others. But the muse had other concerns as well as answering questions. Being in a home office wasn’t a traditional place to have such a conversation either... Now she didn’t know where to stand or where to go. Demurely standing before the goddess would have to do for now...
At least she had taken the offering. That was a good sign. “[And good goddess Hera Nympheuomene, I would be foolish not to seek your favor before a marriage.]”
“[You would be,]” she agreed simply, then gestured to the floor before the coffee table. There was a reason for the change in the location and Hera’s now gesturing to the place as she did. She watched the muse, the potential wife, and appeared to consider. She would not admit openly that the small grave of formality in a time when it was rarely granted would go over so well with her. The muse knew how to show respect, and expected a pattern in return. A pattern that Hera would be pleased to follow. As such, she waited until the younger was seated, before moving to the cabinet, pulling forth a key to unlock the doors. “[Then tell me, how do you intend to show proper respect to your husband, and be a good wife to him.]”
The muse was grateful for the pattern. She would be perfectly willing to admit that the formalities put her much more at ease before the elder goddess. Carefully, she knelt down where she was directed, easing to resting against her heels with her head still bowed. It was not her right to follow the goddess with her eyes. She was a humbled petitioner. “[I will respect and honor him. I will remember what it means to be a wife.]”
“[You will comfort him when he is sick, and listen when he speaks. You will encourage him when he slows, and caution him when he is reckless. You will be his second voice, the voice he would do well to heed, and remember the power you hold over him as such. You will not abuse this power, but wield it with your heart as well as your head. You will consider him in your actions and choices, as he should consider you in his. You will become one in many things, and always seek the best for you as such.]” As she spoke, the words held some of the weight of the position of wife to them. It was a reminder of the role being taken, and the seriousness that it was due. To take on the duty of wife, one had to acknowledge all the implications there of, and she made no apologies for the weight and joy that it would be. Turning from the cabinet she drew out a wooden box. Worn and aged, it was still of a dark material, cared for with careful oilings and thought to the environment. Holding the box carefully, the goddess of marriage walked over to the selection of furniture and sat herself primly in one of the seats, before setting the box to the coffee table.
Shiri listened to each phrase and closed her eyes. She knew what it was like to be a dutiful wife. She had been so before but to hear the goddess of marriage speak her obligations to her made them much more real.... much more binding. But as she imagined her finance in her mind, she held no hesitation. And had only one reply, “[Until the day he dies, I shall.]”
The goddess of wives nodded. She could feel how the words were being taken to heart, the mantel of duty being accepted. Reaching forward, she pressed three fingers to the crown of the others head. “[Then you will have my blessing for your marriage, until the time that it is broken, by action in denying your promise, or through his death.]” As she made the blessing, she let some of her power settle over the other, the blessing becoming a near physical thing to settle into the blood of the other.
She barely gave time for Polyhymnia to accept or understand the feeling of the blessing, before she was once again reaching. This time for the wooden box. Flipping the latch, she lifted and dropped the lid back, revealing a velvet lined tray of jewelry and stones, coins and beads. All items that had belonged to Zeus. Nimbly she pulled the first tray out, revealing a second underneath. Cuffs and pins, tokens of varying shapes and size and origin. The second tray was withdrawn and set aside as well, revealing the bottom, once more holding a large variety of choices, though some seemed more modern compared to those within the first tray.
“[Thank you, good goddess Hera Nympheuomene, soon to be Teleia and eventually Khera, for your blessing and the grace of your compassion upon me.]” It was an automatic, but devoutly, said response as the muse was overwhelmed for the moment of the rush of the blessing that had been bestowed upon her.
Her eyes then lifted at the sound of movement and jingling of jewelry. Suddenly, her father’s possessions were before her and she had to remind herself she was here for joyful reasons -- not the sorrowful ones of being once more faced with the fact her father was forever dead and gone. No. She wouldn’t have that emotion. Not now. She was here for Adam and to get him a gift. She reached out and the hesitated. Wait. Did she get to pick? “[May I?]”
Hera let the words of the title s flow over her, and took a slow breath in at the sound. So rarely were the spoken now, and less by those who had a concept to their meaning. She turned her focus to the albino though, and watched her carefully. Hands folding into her lap as she sat in her chair as if it were a lesser throne, the widowed goddess nodded. “[Yes. These were all your father’s, and you may choose from among them your dowry.]”
The albino nodded slowly, the particular choice of words of the elder goddess not being lost on her. Shiri had never been given in marriage by her father so had never had a dowry of any kind... she supposed it was fitting that of any mortal she would actually bring a dowry to, it would be to Adam, her younger brother. Then the dowry would remain in the family. Somewhere, her father must have been pleased.... Unless he couldn’t be pleased... Not important right now.
Carefully, she discerned through the rings. That was what she had come for and she was very aware her kin were keen on testing their petitioners. She wouldn’t over-reach, but abide by her stated purpose. Finally, after a long moment, she found a ring that found a balance between the royalty of her deceased father while being something she could ever imagine humble Adam ever wearing. Of course, he’d wear what she gave him and like it. She lifted it up from amongst the others.
The elder goddess watched carefully, almost critically, as the other looked over the choices before her, and finally appeared to choose one. She said nothing, looking at the ring, before looking back to the collection of items from the box. Her eyes scanned, picking something out. “[Is that the ring you wish for him?]” she asked.
“[Yes, good Goddess. I think it will accent his natural humility while highlighting the authority and grandness of his new station,]” Shiri said in quiet reply as she held the ring within her two pale hands.
She nodded at the words, and reached forward over the selection. Carefully, she picked through the jewelry and bits and pieces, pulling a select number of items into her hand. Fingers curled around them in a fist, hiding them, as the goddess moved her closed hand toward the space on the table before Polyhymnia. She then opened her hand, palm up to the muse, revealing the tie pin and cuffs, as well as a small charm, that she had picked out. The cuffs and pie matched one another, and could match the ring as well. The charm was clearly far older than the other pieces selected, though not the oldest. “[Then take the ring and these as well, as dowry, and gift.]”
Shiri’s eyes widened as she carefully took the tie pin, cuffs and small charm from the elder goddess. She hadn’t expected such generosity from her effective step-mother and with all within her grasp, she enclosed them in her pale palms, hiding them in the gesture of prayer that hearkened all the way back to their ancient times. “[I thank you and praise you for your generosity toward me. I thank you and praise you for your compassion toward me. By your blessing, I will live my life with my husband and by this dowry, passed from your glorious hands to my own, I will be reminded not only my duties to him but my joys of this life with him. I thank and praise you.]”
Hera nodded at the words and gesture from the other, and once more folded her hands into her lap, straightening within her chair as she looked down at the other. “[Do not let the blessing or gifts be wasted,]” she remarked carefully, letting the words speak the threat that her tone did not. She eyed the soon-to-be-bride. “[Unless you have something further to ask of me, that you are free to depart.]”
“[Thank you. I will do exactly as you have said.]” Shiri replied and then rose to her feet, only to kneel once more in the proscribed formality. She only lingered for there for a moment, bowing her head in turn before rising once more to her feet, her gifts safely within her enclosed hands and her blessing safely upon her soul. Now she made her way out of the house. The muse almost felt her fiance... The formality of the interaction with the elder goddess and petitioning her had created a rush in her akin to dozens of pixie sticks. She would be certain to keep that in check until she was completely out of the goddess’ presence and house.
Hera watched as the muse departed, giving only a small nod to her at the actions of the kneeling. She waited until the other was completely gone, the sound of the door closing her final cue, before she dared to relax into the chair, and stare at the collection before her. “[You would not deny your daughter, husband, so I did not either.]” Her voice was soft, hushed and whispered, words meant for one she doubted would hear, before falling quiet herself, and letting her thoughts turn inward.
Summary: Shiri has a request of the goddess of marriage, and goes about making it in the most formal way she is able. That probably helped things.