Authors: M. M. Kin
The sun brought out the green in her eyes. Her cheeks were rosy, and it was clear that this maiden goddess would grow up to be lovely. The babe radiated a gentle, warm energy, and she smiled at that. Forget the fact that she was the daughter of the god who had tricked her. The babe had no part in the wrongdoing, and her own blood ran through the baby's veins.
I will raise you away from the eyes of Olympus. You will be one of the earth, with me.
“Hemeria?” His voice broke into her thoughts, and she stared down at the babe.
“No.”
“Kore?” Iasion asked, stroking his chin. She looked up at him. Kore was an old word for 'maiden'. It seemed right for her daughter. Artemis, Hestia, and Athene were chaste goddesses, admired for their skills and quiet strength. That was the kind of goddess that her daughter could be. A maiden goddess to complement her mother, both of them bringing life from the earth.
“Kora...” Demeter replied gently, toying with the pronunciation of the word to make a more unique-sounding name.
“I like that name,” Iasion replied.
“So do I.” The goddess smiled as she stroked Kora's head, feeling the fine, silky locks of the baby's hair under her fingertips.
“Should I go and tell Mother?”
“Not right now. I will decide the right time. For now I wish to be left alone.” She was still a tired, and knew she would need to rest another day to fully recover her energy.
“Is there anything you need, love?” he asked as he clambered out of bed, putting on a tunic and sandals. He was hungry, but didn't want to demand anything of Demeter after she had just given birth to his daughter. “I will fill a plate for you with anything you want. And how about some water?”
She nodded gratefully as he fetched some cheese and water from the pantry before slicing up some bread left over from yesterday. It was a bit stale, but with cheese on top of it, it was rather good. After he finished his meal, he carefully took Kora from her mother's arms and smiled down at her as Demeter ate her own meal, taking pleasure in the strong flavor of the tangy feta cheese. Oftentimes she found mortal food more appealing than the overly sweet ambrosia that was made on Olympus.
Seeing the love on Iasion's face as he regarded Kora nearly brought tears to her eyes, and it only strengthened her vow to never make the truth known.
“Do you want me to stay with you?” he asked as he looked up at her. She shook her head.
“No, go outside and work. I need to rest.”
She lay on the bed, placing the babe in a nest of blankets next to her instead of putting her back in the cradle.
“I love you, Demeter,” he said fondly before placing a kiss at the side of her face. She smiled contentedly before closing her eyes.
o0o
It was the whoosh of wings that roused her out of her slumber. Kora started wailing, and Demeter glared at the eagle before she climbed out of bed, intent on shooing it away. But it did not flinch as she approached it. In an instant, she knew where the eagle had come from.
“I will have nothing to do with your master,” Demeter said firmly, making a dismissive gesture with her hand. She quickly turned back to the bed and scooped the infant into her arms, rocking Kora and hushing her gently. She was about to offer her breast when she realized the bird was still there. Gently tugging the blanket over her daughter's head before she turned around, she glared at the intruder.
“What does the bird have to say that the mighty Zeus cannot say to my face?” she asked haughtily. The bird opened its mouth, and out of that came Zeus' voice.
“
As is the fate of every child of a god, so Kora must be brought before the Fates. Come three nights hence.
”
The bird was lucky to escape with just a few scorched feathers.
o0o
Contemptible bastard!
To be an Olympian, one had to agree to certain rules. They were not as many as one would think, but some were very clear.
Just as Kronos overturned Ouranos and Zeus overturned Kronos, one of his own offspring might just as soon turn against him. To avert this, he had passed a rule that said that every god, upon having a child, must take that child to the Fates to have its future foretold. Thus far, none of the younger generation had any foretelling that concerned him. But it wasn't just his own children that he worried about; all the other gods had the same law applied to them as part of the codicil that made them part of the Pantheon. For most, it was of little concern, their worries more about traversing through the Underworld than of what the Fates might predict for their newborn. And for many of the parents, the prophecies came in handy in predicting the powers of their offspring.
But that didn't apply to demigods. Only full-blooded gods – Olympian or Titan – posed any serious threat to Zeus, because demigods were never immortal and despite whatever fortuitous gift they might receive from their divine parent, demigods were still mortal.
That was it. She would refuse. Just like everyone else, she would have Zeus believe that Iasion was Kora's father. She would claim that she was already with child when Zeus deceived her. She most certainly would not be ordered about by her younger brother, the little bratling! Being fed honey and goat milk by nymphs, under the protection of Gaea while his older siblings scrambled around in the darkness, looking for light, love, warmth. Even during the wars, Zeus had but to throw his lightning bolts, not having to fight hand-to-hand with a Titan like most of his allies did at least several times.
“Forget him,” she muttered to the child as she uncovered the pretty little face. The green leaves and vine that Eurycleia had woven along the edge of the blanket set off her dark hair nicely, and Demeter stroked the soft fuzz. “You have a worthy father right here. You will live among mortals and understand their strengths and weaknesses. You will learn the cycle of the earth and how precious life is.” Gaea, Rhea, Demeter, and now Kora. She smiled to herself. She would not show the babe to her mother or grandmother, though. Not yet. Not for a long while.
After Kora was breastfed, her mother lay down again, staring up at the ceiling, even more determined to cut all ties with her brother. She would control the situation. Let him complain, but she was a mighty goddess in her own right.
Chapter V
o0o
For the next three days, the farm was quiet and peaceful. Demeter for the most part kept to herself rather than inviting her adopted family or neighbors to see Kora, for she had no desire to simply show off her baby. Her thoughts meandered from the vengeance she would have against her brother to the welfare of her child and her plans for the future.
Kora lay in her cradle, sleeping and content. Most gods didn't discover their unique gifts until they were at least a few years of age. She certainly hoped the girl didn't gain her father's ability to produce lightning, but from the steady, warm glow of life that emanated from the babe it seemed that her powers would run along the same vein as her mother's.
Iasion was entranced with his daughter. When she wasn't sleeping or being breastfed he would happily just sit with her in the crook of one arm. Only in Demeter's sight were the other members of the family allowed to hold her. She felt fiercely protective of her daughter, and was bracing herself against the inevitable message – or worse, visit – from her brother. She kept her sickle in her chiton, prepared to spill more of Zeus's blood if she had to.
But when he appeared, he was lacking the usual radiance and bluster with which he often visited the mortal world. Her sickle was immediately in her hand when she saw him leaning against the olive tree, startling her as she was out for a walk not long before sunset
“I swear by the Styx...” Zeus started, without even a proper greeting; not that one would have helped him. She stilled. Swearing by the Styx was a momentous occasion. For a god to bind himself to that promise was not something to be ignored, and she narrowed her eyes.
“What is it that you would bind to oath?”
“I swear by the Styx that I am not here to cause harm or trouble. Your family will live in peace.”
“And you will tell nobody,” she added.
“I will not speak about this to anyone.”
“Good. Now, go away,” Demeter growled. Iasion was in the house with Kora. On instinct she had left her babe behind, and was glad for it.
“I cannot do that.”
“The child is not yours. And you have no place here.”
“I did swear that I will not cause trouble. But that child is also mine.”
“She is Iasion's.”
“Then you will have no trouble letting me look at my... niece for a moment.”
Demeter's usually warm gaze had already been cool, but at these words, her gaze turned to ice. Had Zeus been mortal, he would have withered on the spot.
“It is up to you. Bring her out here now, or bring her to the Fates tonight,” Zeus replied, inwardly cringing from the way his sister stared at him.
“I will go down there and discover her fate. You need not come with me.”
“I am going with you.”
“No, you will not.”
“I am King of the Gods, and it is my responsibility to see to the offspring of my family.”
“Not this one.”
“Demeter, must we fight about this?” he asked. Not once had she heard him make any attempt at an apology.
“I will go down there, and I will go by myself,” she replied. He stared at her for several moments, knowing that she would make things entirely unpleasant if he pushed her any further.
“Very well.”
o0o
Demeter was shrouded in a dark brown so muted it was almost gray. It suited her mood well, and she pulled her cloak further up her head. Wrapped snugly under her mantle was little Kora, full from her mother's milk and sleeping contentedly, completely unaware of what was happening around her. The shadows pulsed around Demeter as if wanting to swallow her whole, and she kept her eyes fixed on the hovering light that led her down to the Styx.
She barely acknowledged Kharon as she sat in the boat, chafing at the idea that she had to come to this dreary place thanks to that insufferable brother of hers. Of course, Zeus had offered to take the babe, but she did not trust him with Kora's safety, or that he might not twist the words of the Fates around for his own benefit.
On the surface, she could be anywhere she needed. But here, the rules differed from the ones above, for the gods had to cross the Styx to be admitted to Hades. Her lips twisted in distaste. She hoped to not bump into Hades down here, even though he had been the one to lend her this guiding light, since she was not in the mood to exchange pleasantries with him or anyone else.
She cursed this place and its inhabitants. Yes, this place was a necessary one, but couldn't the Fates ever deign to pay a visit to the surface?
o0o
The Lord of the Skies stood with his hands behind his back, his shoulders squared under his light blue-gray cloak as he studied the women before him. The one shrouded in white was attractive, and if it wasn't for the fact that she was one of the powerful and terrible Fates, he would have tried to seduce her on the spot.
As if she was aware of his very thoughts, the raven-haired maiden fixed her dark eyes on him. Her face was nearly as white as her cowl and long chiton, and her hands moved nimbly as ever, spinning the thread of life out of ethereal substance, giving it form and meaning. Klotho raised her chin, giving Zeus an imperious look, as if in silent rejection of his amorous thoughts.
He swallowed and held back a shiver. There was a penetrating coolness to this place that no fire or thick clothing could banish. How could his brother have volunteered for this dead place as his own? Granted, everyone else was glad that they didn't risk the chance of being left with an unwanted kingdom, but to imagine that someone might
want
such a dread realm...
He shook his head. No use in dwelling on such matters. He was here for a purpose, and after that he could leave and enjoy the warmth of the surface and one or two nymphs that he saw frolicking the other day...
A tingle on the back of his neck alerted him to the cold stare Demeter fixed on him as soon as she noticed his presence, moving along the smooth floor. He eyed her for a moment and bowed his head in acknowledgment, but said nothing.
“Wise Ones, I approach your presence and ask thee to admit me. I come to know my daughter's future. I humbly ask that you share your infinite wisdom.”
“You may approach, daughter of earth. Reveal your child.” This was uttered by the one in gray. Her right hand held a pair of snips. It looked ancient, but its blade was as sharp as ever, and it swiftly dove down and snipped at random threads before they slid into the ever-moving tapestry.
Demeter climbed up the steps and stopped at a respectful distance. She lifted one side of her voluminous cowl to reveal Kora. In this muted light, her wispy, soft hair was the color of blood, standing out in sharp contrast with her skin. The effect was altogether disconcerting to Zeus.
“Bring her to me.” This was uttered by the woman in the maroon-hued garb. She glanced at Demeter calmly as she held out her hands.
After only a moment of hesitation, the goddess did as she was asked. She approached Lakhesis, gently placing her baby in the arms of this kindly-looking but nonetheless intimidating entity. With one upturned hand, Klotho motioned Demeter back. The goddess returned to where she had been standing before, making eye contact with Zeus only briefly.
The closest thing to a smile gently tugged at Lakhesis' lips as she looked down at the baby. The trio of sisters could see Kora's entire life ahead of her, her thread unique in the fact that it was spun and bound into eternity – a fate that was given out but a few times in the entirety of history. She was a special one, indeed.
Demeter wanted to ask them what they saw, that much was clear in her intent gaze. But ever mindful of the Fate's position in the universe, she was silent.
“She is alluring radiance. Many will desire her,” Atropos said.
“She is blessed with a gift all her own. Her fate is to bring light to the darkness,” Lakhesis intoned.
“She is born of the earth and the heavens. But where her mother and father rule, her destiny does not wait. To the realm of death she will be bound,” Klotho stated with finality as she paused in her work to stare at the two gods before them.
“She will die?” Demeter asked with a quiet gasp. “No,” she protested softly, her eyes widening. She moved forward to take the child. Lakhesis looked down to see that Kora was awake, her hazel-green eyes fixed on the face above her. Yet the babe did not cry at the sight of a strange face.
“Die? No. But the desire of a man will forever change her. She will be touched by death. Such is her fate.”
“Never,” Demeter said fiercely as Lakhesis gave up custody of the baby. “I will protect her from men. She will not know death. I am Goddess of the Harvest and I will surround her with life!” Her decision to raise Kora away from Olympus was only further reinforced by this dire prediction.
The Fates stared at her placidly. They took no offense when people protested their decrees. It was natural for them to do so, and struggling against destiny only served to fulfill it in the end. Lakhesis' visage rippled, and Atropos appeared in her place, her scissors still in hand. Demeter gasped and took a step back, holding Kora tightly.
“Regardless of what we tell you, you will fret. So, do as you wish. Whatever makes you feel safe.” Atropos' half-smile was almost mocking. Despite the fear that she felt for the Fates, she vowed to find a way to circumvent their words.
“We are honored that you let us into your presence,” Zeus stated with a bow. The Fates were already back at work, their backs to the pair. Demeter needed no other hint, and hastened away from the trio and their shadowy chamber and its translucent, glowing threads.
The Fates talked amongst themselves, or rather, herself. The visages of Klotho, Lakhesis, and Atropos were ever shifting.
“Persephone's destiny was decided before she was born.”
“All of the mother's measures and the father's strength come to naught.”
“Her destiny transcends that of anyone who sits high in Olympus.”
o0o
Only when did Demeter feel the fresh air on her face did she relax. Kora had remained awake on the way back, but she did not scream or cry once. Zeus had followed behind – not too closely – and not wishing to waste her time or energy on argument, she let him tag along. He had obliged her dark mood and been silent, but once they were out of the shadows, he grabbed his sister's arm.
“Must we part like this? I want to see the child.”
“You have plenty enough of your own!” Demeter's eyes glistened with open hostility. “I owe you nothing!”
“... You are right,” Zeus replied in a rare moment of genuine contriteness. “I simply ask to get a good look at the child. I swear, I will not snatch her away! Please.”
If one thing could be said about Zeus, it was that he could be rather charming when he wanted to. It was a talent he used often, to soothe the ruffled feathers of the women he chased after.
“You barely pay attention to the bastards you already have. I absolve you of any responsibility for this one. After what you did, it is my right to ask this! I will raise and protect her.”
“This is what you truly want?” Zeus asked quietly, a tone rarely if ever heard from the god who usually spoke in a booming voice.
“I will take all responsibility for Kora. She will remain close to me, and I will keep trouble away from her.” It went without saying that this included the other Olympians as well, and with reason. Apollo and Ares were known to chase after anything young and pretty. Hermes was proud of his reputation as a lech. Dionysus was infamous for his orgies. Poseidon was more faithful to his wife than Zeus was to his own, but the God of the Sea let his eye wander here and there, frolicking with Nereids and mortal maidens alike. But the one who spread around the most of his essence was none other than Zeus himself. Demeter certainly didn't envy Hera's position as Queen of the Gods. What was a crown when one was constantly unhappy, despite their attempts to hide their pain?
“Besides, I doubt your wife will be pleased to know that you have fathered yet another child that is not hers,” Demeter added scathingly right before Kora started to cry. Zeus watched as all of Demeter's attentions focused on her babe as she gently jiggled the girl, shushing her quietly. Without thinking, Zeus reached out, lightly touching the top of the baby's head. Kora's hair was soft, and the Lord of the Gods found himself smiling gently as her cries quieted down. It could be said – and agreed – by everyone that Zeus might be a forgetful and sometimes neglectful father. But he was never malicious or abusive towards his lovers or children, and was capable of great gentleness and affection.
Demeter flinched and pulled the babe away.
“I would not have harmed her – not now, not ever.” He let out a slow sigh. “I never meant to hurt you, either. I thought you would enjoy it, and you did. At least, until...”