Chapter Text
Kronos roared in agony as his children began to tear at his body. Defeated and now to be thrown to Tartarus in pieces, the old king locked eyes with his youngest son. The Stone Brat was looking so proud at his father’s folly.
“I curse you!” Kronos croaked with ichor staining each word. “I curse you, my ungrateful spawn! Olympians…You-Never…Never shall you extend your line without suffering. You shall never sire or bear hale children. Should you manage to engender any, each breath they draw with be in pain. Their existence shall drain you of your power and leave you weak and pained. Let your children rot and suffer within your arms! May you birth monsters and misery and feel regret a thousand times over for each loss!”
His children all rushed to silence the titan king quickly. His last words cursing the six of his children as Tartarus swallowed his broken remnants.
The Kronides left the battlefield victorious but uneasy. The echoing words of their father following them.
The first to test the validity of the curse was Zeus. Though not intentionally at first.
With the prophecy that a son of Métis would overthrow him; His queen turned herself into a fly and willingly allowed Zeus to consume her to prevent such a thing.
This act no matter how willing, did not endear Zeus to his siblings.
“Please tell us if you intend to devour any other relations.” Poseidon joked awkwardly, “So that we may prepare appropriately sized stones.”
His siblings kept careful distance from their brother and king for some time after that. And in his loneliness and regret Zeus wished for a child; A daughter. One as wise and clear thinking as the titaness whom he had loved and consumed- Métis- who had helped him save his siblings and sacrificed herself to him.
Zeus ached with that desire. Pushed all his divine power into that thought as he yearned for a child. Her hair would be light and wild as Métis’, with her stormy sea eyes and his strong nose. Her voice would soft but firm. Her council clear and sound.
Zeus dreamed of the daughter he wished for so dearly.
In the coming days, Zeus believed that the ache building in his head was from stress and want. He had become fearful that he was becoming like his father. Worried that he would develop a taste for others and become the monster he had worked so hard to overthrow.
But the ache did not stop. It built into a great and terrible pain. Blinding him with it’s intensity. Nausea swelled to the point that Zeus could neither stand nor see. His wary siblings stood gathered around him as he lay prone in agony before them. All of them unsure of what to do to help him (Part of Zeus was fearful that they were unwilling to aid him, not unable).
In desperation and blinded by pain, Zeus reached a hand out to Poseidon. “Brother, your trident, please…”
Poseidon raised his weapon but was unable to strike his younger brother despite Zeus wailing in agony. Finally, Hades stepped forward and took the trident in his hand and with a mighty blow, Split Zeus’s skull and silenced his cries.
(Hades would later drift away from his siblings on Olympus because of this act. Choosing to become a recluse in his own realm and rarely show face on the sacred mountain. Ashamed and regretful of the jagged scar he had placed on his brother’s brow.)
The goddess Athena came tumbling out of the open wound. Fully grown and armored. Her mother who had formed her within Zeus’ head, followed her.
At first there was joy; At the birth of a new goddess, at the return of Métis. But the newly born goddess had been held fast by Krono’s curse.
Athena was thin and sickly. Her limbs both thin and fragile. Her eyes wide and sensitive to light. She struggled to catch her breath. The armor in which she had emerged wearing was too large and too heavy for her to bear. Zeus stripped the heavy bracers and breastplate from her. Athena shrieking as the act broke her hollow bones.
This new goddess, with no domain of her own, drew power from the injured Zeus to sustain herself. Each breath the weak Athena took was pulled from Zeus’ lungs. Leaving him as breathless as his new child. Still, Athena was fading quickly. Her life to be short and agonizing.
Métis, in maternal desperation, relinquished her domain of wisdom so that her daughter could go on without draining power from Zeus. In losing her domain of wisdom, the titaness Métis faded from the world. But Athena’s pitiful whimpers and newborn cries ceased to gentle sleep, her new domain settling.
Zeus held his newly born and fragile daughter close. Ichor flowing from the still gaping wound left in the center of his brow and dripping over father and child. She stayed clutched against Zeus’s chest for days until her breath became steady. He kept his Athena close even after she could stand tall; letting none of his siblings near until she could stand on her own. (Even centuries after, Athena was always the goddess kept close to Zeus’ side)
There was joy and celebration throughout Olympus as Athena took her first firm steps on her own. Her father’s hands held open nearby in case she were to stumble. The Kronides became encouraged by her existence, though the cautious Hera made them all swear not to risk siring another child without telling the rest.
Poseidon attempted to have a child next. He and his wife Amphitrite had a son after much pain. Poseidon writhed in agony at his birth. Coastlines wrecked and reshaped again and again as he struggled. But the infant who was born with weak lungs and delicate skin. A touch would cause bruises to blossom on him.
Poseidon hurried to hide his child beneath the oceans waves. Keeping the fragile infant close to him and protected from all threats. Refusing to bring him to Olympus to meet with the others. With great sacrifice Poseidon carved the domain of Waves from himself and into Triton’s control, cementing his son’s existence into the world. Triton, quickly obtaining the domain as messenger of the seas as well.
Triton stabilized slowly. Becoming a god in his own right; though never as strong as his divine father. Showing all that in order to bring a divine child to the world; the gods have to sacrifice part of their own divinity. Weakening themselves to strengthen their offspring.
Poseidon later had daughters with his wife Amphitrite and the goddess Aphrodite, each time carefully planning and preparing domains for each of them. Thankfully the sea was abundant in it’s domains and he had many to offer to his own children without losing too much of his own strength. (Amphitrite also petitioned her own grandfather, Oceanus to grant domains to some of her children when Nereus could not help to support their ascension.)
Later, Zeus was again tempted to produce a child. Secretly colluding with the titaness Leto- whom held the domain of motherhood and child bearing- to create another child for himself
With a mixing of ichor between the two; Zeus swallowed half the mixture at the height of the bright full moon. But was overcome with swaying sickness before he could finish the rest. 9 days of endless thundering shook the world as Zeus swayed and moaned in pain before he could finish the rest of the concoction. The sun peering out through the clouds as he finished the drink.
Zeus wailed again as waves of pain filled his limbs. His hands ached with agony at the joints of his fingers and wrists. He fell to the floor again with pain. Tears of golden ichor fell down his cheeks.
Hera, his queen, was furious with the titaness Leto many reasons. For not drinking the mixture herself, for colluding with Zeus and risking his health again, for not telling her of their intention of child-making. In her anger, Hera banished Leto from Olympus and tended to the prone and miserable Zeus herself.
The ichor stained tears that Zeus wept gathered in Hera’s hands, forming into two twins. A boy and a girl. The boy glowing gold and the girl silver. Their divine forms flickering weakly but they moved like wild beasts. The twins disappeared down the paths of Olympus and into the wilds before any of the gods could catch them.
Zeus wailed in misery when Hera told him. The only proof of their continued existence was the continual draw on his power. From the bottom of Mount Olympus, hearing Zeus’ cries and learning her unseen children’s fates, Leto’s tearful wails echoed throughout Greece forcing others to weep and cry alongside her and Zeus.
Hera felt so contrite from her banishment of Leto from Olympus- blaming herself for the loss of her husbands’ precious twins- that she conspired with Poseidon to create the sanctuary island Delos, for Leto to withdraw to and grieve in private.
Months passed of Zeus grieving and wailing on Olympus, curling himself around Athena while his siblings searched the world below for their lost niece and nephew.
Then to the misery of all Zeus felt the drain of his power ease. His twins were weakening. They were dying! And he could not find them! Perhaps one of his children were already dead! His wails were thunderclaps that shook the world. His tears became torrents of flooding rain.
And then the rest of the drain stopped.
The king was inconsolable. His children were gone. Lost to the wilds forever.
Olympus joined him in the grief. Storms raged unending, earthquakes rattled the ground, darkness, famine, and misery plagued the world.
Then, joyfully. The twins returned.
Their arrival was heralded by the Moon Selena and the Sun Helios crossing paths. Darkening the world in gentle shadow as the twins arrived on Olympus.
Phoebus Apollon and Agreia Artemis arrived on Olympus silently. Appearing quietly at their still weeping father’s side. None noticed them before Apollon let out a trilling song of welcome. Sounding light and cheerful as a bird. His hair fluffy feathers of gold. His quiet sister Artemis, did not join his song but stood upright and proud before him. Her skin dappled as a fawn.
Zeus threw himself from his throne to gather his twins into his arms. Surprised at their survival and overjoyed as he learned that his wild twins sought out and secured their own domains. Apollo told the tale of their ascension.
The twins wildly exploring the world together after their birth. Artemis obtaining the domain of hunting with her superior tracking abilities. Apollo earning the domain of herdsmen after tending to a lost flock they came across. Knowledge came to Apollo with their travels as well.
Later, the twins ran afoul the great Beast Python. With fierce determination the two worked together to defeat the beast securing the domain of archery to share between them. Apollon slaying the dragon Python and taking his domain of prophecy.
Zeus and his siblings were overjoyed at their arrival. A feast was prepared and held for the new gods of Olympus. The twins of Civilization and Wilderness.
Later Hades too attempt to sire a son or daughter of his own. However, unlike Zeus and his two precious daughters Athena, Artemis and his shining son Apollo. And unlike the blessed Poseidon’s capable son Triton and his formidable daughters Kymopleia, Rhodes, Eirene, and Benthesikyme; Hades could not beget a child of his own.
Again and again Hades was racked with pains from his attempts. But again and again the divine children born from him would crumble in his palms into ash and shadow. Never taking full breaths.
The repeated losses caused the Eldest son of Kronos to withdraw further from Olympus and his siblings. Hiding himself away in his kingdom of the Underworld.
Hades would carefully memorize the features of his stillborn children before they fell away in his hands. And once in his kingdom, he would gently sculpt clay and stone into small effigies of his lost babes. The numerous small stone statues would be gently set in a sacred vault in his castle and the King of the Dead would often wander through the paths made of the royal cemetery of divine chthonic babies. Murmuring soft lullabies and whispers of love and adoration to the children he could not keep.
Hera too attempted to have children. Zeus was ever attentive to his bedridden wife as flashes of agonizing fire lanced up and down her body. Hera’s temper already so thin gave way to the fiercest of rages.
Ares was born of his mothers’ screaming blood rage. The gods, now readily prepared for a new gods arrival had the domain of War and Battle prepared for him. His mother’s fiery temper and his father’s commanding presence bolstering his swift ascension.
Ares burned brightly in his mother’s hold the few moments before the domains settled. Hera’s hands were scorched by her son’s blazes.
Zeus, so joyful at his second son, was equally despaired at his queens’ injuries. He forbade Hera from attempting such again.
But Hera in her want of motherhood, soon attempted another birth; This time in secret. But this time without her siblings knowledge of her attempt, Hera had to stifle her cries of birth and her siblings had no domains to offer her newborn. Hera held her second flame-haired son and her hands-already so frail from Are’s birth blaze- lost their grip. The infant Hephaestus went tumbling down the mountain while his mother was stuck mute by the agony of her pains and the fierce draw on her power.
Zeus and Hestia came across the prone Hera. The queen mutely gesturing toward the cliff where her baby fell.
Zeus called upon his children to aid him in helping Hera while Hestia descended from the mountain to search for and save the child.
Hephaestus was a pitiful thing. But Hestia cuddled him close anyway as she climbed back up the mountain. Her hearth flame tempering the raging forces inherited from his mother. Hestia gentled the child’s domains into creation and crafting. Easing the agony of her sister Hera.
Seeing and knowing the pains of birth and child-loss, Hestia declared that she would never risk the pain of a child being loss to her, taking a vow of eternal maidenhood.
Seeing the wisdom and practicality of such, (and being much afraid after witnessing Hera’s distress and pains at Ares and Hephaestus’ birth) Athena and Artemis followed their aunt in the same vow.
Hera’s other attempts for children were agonizing and painful failures. So much so she was bedridden with grief. Her cheeks carved with her burning tears.
Zeus, after multiple losses and satisfied with three sons and two daughters. Decided he would not sire more children for a time. However, The Pleiades, Maia was an ambitious woman and desired a god-born child. Knowing the consequences of divine birth, she knew that Zeus would never agree to risk such things to beget her a child. So secretly one night, Maia crept into the gods bedchamber and while Zeus and Hera slept, she pricked Zeus’ ankle and collected a bowl of ichor. With the stolen essence in hand, Maia fled from the mountain to a cave of Cyllene without notice from anyone.
It was not until Zeus began to feel weak and hazy-headed that he realized what had happened. He was bed bound and demanded that his children search out their missing sibling before they faded from the world.
Apollo, Artemis, Ares, Hephaestus, and Athena all searched far and wide for the missing infant.
Maia hidden in Cyllene, was equally drained from the birth of her Hermes. Carving her cleverness and quick hands into a domain for her child eased the drain only slightly (and prompting a frightened and thundering wail from Zeus on Olympus). The Pleiades was left prone on the cave floor. Her mouth muted and her hands numb and curled into useless stumps while her fragile son toddled out of the entrance.
Thankfully Maia’s cleverness had settled quickly in Hermes. With quick hands he slew a tortoise and arranged a strange device. Then he wandered afield and found Apollos herd of sacred red-cattle. Hermes, thinking it a fine gift to bolster his mother’s strength, herded the cattle back home (After switching the direction of the cattle’s hooves to hide their path from any following).
Apollo for his part, did discover the theft of his cattle quickly but was preoccupied with searching for his missing sibling. Hermes had returned to the cattle field in search of straggling cows and was caught by Apollo.
At first the little god pretended not to know where the cattle were. Pretending to be a mortal child, he worked at distracting Apollo with a long and rambling story and showing Apollo his tortoise-shelled lyre he had crafted. Apollo was tricked at first, finding himself agreeing to trade his caduceus to the boy in exchange with the lyre.
It was only after Hermes felt the domain of Trickery and Trade settle within him that Apollo understood the deception of the trade and to whom he made it with.
Pleased with the discovery of his new brother, Apollo quickly worked to bolster his strength, gifting Hermes the domain of communication and travel as well. Hermes, gave his new shell instrument he had made and Apollo discovered the domain of music and art with it.
The two brothers were pleased to meet and discover new domains together, and Apollo whisked Hermes to Olympus.
Zeus who had begun to weep with the loss of the drain of his power and assuming his stolen child had faded, was pleased beyond words at the sight of Apollo bringing his brother home. Hermes did not however, fly into his father’s open arms. Instead he bartered for clemency for his mother’s crime and offered to act as his father’s messenger in exchange.
So eager to welcome his son, Zeus agreed. Adding the domain of Divine messenger to Hermes to welcome him to Olympus.
Hera was less pleased and once again banished the mother of her husband’s child from Olympus. Declaring that Maia would not be punished for her crime officially, but she must never leave Cyllene (Though she had endeavored to send nature spirits and nymphs to attend Maia in her eternal palace on the mountain.).
Centuries later, Demeter desired a child as well. She begged her brother’s support in having a child of her own. Zeus cautioned her against it, not wishing to see his elder sister in pain of childbirth or agony of the loss of a child. But Demeter was adamant in her desire. After many words of warning, Zeus reluctantly gave Demeter his blessing to try.
At her birth, Kore was a frail as a flower petal. Her skin soft and thin. Her hair wispy and white. Her eyes the color of milkweed. Like Poseidon had with Triton, Demeter fled to her domain of power. Hiding herself in Fields of golden wheat.
Eventually, Demeter learned to withstand the draining and withering cold she suffered with Kore’s birth and existence. And she loved her precious, fragile daughter. The goddess of the Harvest endeavored to find a domain for her daughter. But even after the domain of flowering green was settled. Kore remained frail. Her skin thin. Her breath faint. Her life draining to sustain itself through her mother.
And wary of losing her precious flower child to any dangers in the world, Demeter kept her close and hidden from sight. Keeping Kore isolated in a secure and sacred grove of her own design. Occupying her time with caring for and admiring daisies and lilacs. Soft and gentle blooms. With Demeter returning to Olympus and suffering the drain of her daughter’s existence with a stoicism that belied the constant exhaustion and chills that chased up and down her spine
It was there in that grove where Hades met Kore.
Hades though he had withdrawn from Olympus and only rarely visited his siblings, still found himself wandering the mortal lands above out of interest and boredom occasionally.
And during one of these wandering, he came across Kore. At first startled by the appearance of a stranger, Kore quickly warmed to company that was not her mother or her flowers. And Hades was so desperate for a child of his own that a wild thought took root. Such as that he attempted to lure the child of his sister into the depths of his kingdom.
But poor Kore had barely stepped from her mother’s sacred grove when she collapsed into Hades arms. Feeling her strength returning, in horror, Demeter had raced from Olympus. The urgency of her departure causing her siblings to follow her.
Hades was found at the edge of Demeters’ grove; Cradling armfuls of discolored and dried flower petals.
The bleakness of Demeter’s grief was shown in frigid famines sweeping over the lands as she secluded herself in her daughter’s grove. Now her private graveyard.
It was only after months of mourning that Hestia could draw Demeter back to the hearth of Olympus and breathe warmth back into the land. Though the once strong bond between Hades and Demeter as siblings was now ever frayed and stained by Persephone’s death.
The Gods would try again to sire children to share in eternity with them. And after much loss…Zeus cast his gaze to mortals.
The attempts to father (and mother) children with mortals ended in disaster and grief. Babes would be born twisted and deformed. Born with hooves, tusks, scales, gills. Aspects of their immortal parent but…wrong. Hooves would be a fragile as fingernails and never harden. The muscles twisted and frayed unable to ever stand. Gills would not connect to lungs. Wings would be so heavy on the babes back that the bones would tear through the thin newborn flesh.
The infants born as such never lived long. Each moment of their life agony and misery. Their godly parents unable to do anything but weep over their weak struggles before their little hearts gave out.
Some luckier babes never breathed at all and never suffered the pains of life. (These infants tore at their hearts all the same.) With their perfectly formed faces, all accounted for fingers and toes, chubby cheeks and tiny noses. But pale and blue; Born dead into their parents hands.
There were other gods, born but never grown. Only to be tearfully kissed and swaddled by their parents before being laid to rest in the eternal graveyard of the gods.
Of the mortal born; Only one ever succeeded in surviving his birth, growth, and ascension to godhood. Through much trials and tribulation, was Dionysus. His mother becoming ash. Zeus desperate and half mad with grief entombing the babe in his own flesh to grow. Dionysus after many struggles, managed to obtain the domains of Revelry and Madness and leaving his father with an excessive and unrecoverable limp from his birth.
But no other mortal born succeeded.
Yet even as failure after failure continued, the gods never lost hope. Painful but enticing hope kept them trying. Even as grief corroded their empathy and kindness. What sympathy could Poseidon muster for mortals as another flood devastated the coast when another of his babies failed to thrive? What gentleness could Demeter give for starving mortals as she mourned her withered children? What pity could Apollo gather in himself as cities fell to plagues roused by his heartbreak at yet another still and tiny body was pressed into his hands?
Mortals knew their gods were mournful beings and fierce-some ones as well. Worship was done fearfully. Prayers for healthy babes were given each day for the gods. Hopes that the birth of a living child for the gods would ease their anger and cool their ire.
Centuries and centuries of fruitless prayers. Endless years of countless losses. After so many broken wishes and unresolved hopes…
Fate finally took action…