(no subject)
Hestia holds no high regard for works of Aphrodite or her brood. Swearing by touching Zeus’ head only reaffirmed her decision to be a maiden the rest of her days-a simple formality that merely solidified her own will in the matter.
No one has challenged her on this simply because of her brother’s “let it be so” and for that she wavers between appreciation and ingratitude, letting thoughts of “why because he said so and not just because I will it to be?” enter her head. It is times like those when she feels what freedoms that she has earned are only because a man said she could have them, that she considers wishing she had never swore her oath. Not that she longs for “that” sort of companionship, but it feels like an empty victory gained and all she had to do was promise to never marry and give up her seat to Dionysos.
Today is one of those days, but Hestia pushes the rising attitude down with all the force that she can muster. Like it or not, it’s a man’s world on the mountain, below the water and in the depths of the underworld with her brothers running the way of things. She smiles, thinking of Hera. She is not jealous in the least of what her sister has to put up with, silently supporting her jealous rampages and her struggle to have some power of her own. Thinking of her other sister, Hestia feels a twinge of sadness for Demeter in missing Persephone so dearly and the sorrows of the other goddesses she cannot even begin to contemplate.
She has many blessings. Back in the day, hers was the first portion and last at each mortal’s meal and she is still free from interfering in the lives of both man and god. Her sole responsibility, the sacred fires, she takes with dead seriousness. Some may think her antiquated, but she does not mind.
Today, she lets her guard down with no need to fear Aphrodite’s workings as she enters her favorite baths. Hidden as much as possible simply for propriety’s sake, its soothing warmth eases non-existent aches and worries. Why, the last to attempt such a thing as to do worse than just spy; that wily Priapus, he got his comeuppance and good riddance.
Perfect! A simple pleasurable chill washes over her as her entire body becomes submersed the balmy waters.
No one has challenged her on this simply because of her brother’s “let it be so” and for that she wavers between appreciation and ingratitude, letting thoughts of “why because he said so and not just because I will it to be?” enter her head. It is times like those when she feels what freedoms that she has earned are only because a man said she could have them, that she considers wishing she had never swore her oath. Not that she longs for “that” sort of companionship, but it feels like an empty victory gained and all she had to do was promise to never marry and give up her seat to Dionysos.
Today is one of those days, but Hestia pushes the rising attitude down with all the force that she can muster. Like it or not, it’s a man’s world on the mountain, below the water and in the depths of the underworld with her brothers running the way of things. She smiles, thinking of Hera. She is not jealous in the least of what her sister has to put up with, silently supporting her jealous rampages and her struggle to have some power of her own. Thinking of her other sister, Hestia feels a twinge of sadness for Demeter in missing Persephone so dearly and the sorrows of the other goddesses she cannot even begin to contemplate.
She has many blessings. Back in the day, hers was the first portion and last at each mortal’s meal and she is still free from interfering in the lives of both man and god. Her sole responsibility, the sacred fires, she takes with dead seriousness. Some may think her antiquated, but she does not mind.
Today, she lets her guard down with no need to fear Aphrodite’s workings as she enters her favorite baths. Hidden as much as possible simply for propriety’s sake, its soothing warmth eases non-existent aches and worries. Why, the last to attempt such a thing as to do worse than just spy; that wily Priapus, he got his comeuppance and good riddance.
Perfect! A simple pleasurable chill washes over her as her entire body becomes submersed the balmy waters.