[FIC]: Waltz
Title: Waltz
Characters: Hera/Juno
Content Warnings: Sliiightly spoilery for MoA, better play it safe
Summary: [Juuust in case]Hera/Juno retreated from Olympus to save their skin. The question is what to do next.
Notes: Marathoned the book yesterday and when I tried to sleep this wouldn't leave my head. So here you go? :D? Cross-posted to AO3.
Word Count: 796
She stood with her palms flat against a concrete wall, her forehead resting against the cool grey surface.
A length of barbed wire was twisting itself around inside her chest, and there was a fist-sized lump gathering in her throat.
We cannot cry.
Yes. It is for children.
She took a deep, shuddering breath. She turned around and leant back against the wall, pinching her nose.
We need a plan.
We had a plan.
Surely he cannot keep us out for long.
He needs us.
Does he?
She swallowed, but they knew there was no point following that particular rabbit hole. That would just leave them wallowing in a back alley, turning over thousands of years of decisions they had always been sure of that couldn't possibly changed now.
At least her headache had dulled to a gentle throb. Even then it still felt as if a wedge was being driven straight into her crown, splitting her skull from her chin all the way to over her head to the nape of her neck.
She shook her head, and the split pulsed painfully. They had their differences, but at least they were far better united than some of the gods. Her chest squirmed uncomfortably as their mind jumped to Athena/Minerva. As much of a flake as the healer boy was, he had stayed whole while the sharpest mind on Olympus had cracked and broken. Some use that had been! There was nothing he could do for any of them. This was not an ailment that could be waved away with nectar and magic.
Our plan is the only way.
Perhaps not the only way. The best way, though.
Quite. Though that in itself is nothing peculiar.
She had to smile at that.
We need to go somewhere to think.
Indeed. Somewhere we can relax.
She stepped out of the alley. New York City was, of course, oblivious to any cosmic turmoil. The sun shone as bright as ever and the streets were filled with the organized chaos that was the city's life blood.
New York City on a Saturday in June. There was bound to be a wedding going on somewhere.
* * *
She found several, in fact. She had been quite prepared to slip into the back pew of the first service she came across, but one look at the groom and they knew they couldn't do it.
It probably didn't help that he was blonde.
Eventually she found a reception for a couple who were both brides. A slight sigh of relief escaped her. Now they could think without being distracted.
There was a free table at the back of the hall and she slipped over to it, delicately drawing the Mist around her. Their strength was not what it had been, but they should be able to deflect mortals from noticing her.
Can we contact the children?
We no longer fall inside his jurisdiction, surely.
Then it would not be forbidden.
But then, what would we tell them?
She paused, tracing her finger over the lace flowers in the tablecloth.
No.
There is nothing we could tell them.
They have the information they need.
Then... getting back to Olympus?
Indeed.
She sat back in the chair and surveyed the room. The flowers looked particularly beautiful. She herself would have chosen red tulips over yellow, but floriography was no longer in favour with mortals as it had once been.
They needed to reunite the family. Her mother would be appalled everything had gotten so out of hand, but things had spun away from them so rapidly it was a miracle they still had any kind of hold on them.
There needs to be balance.
Harmony. Some of them never really understood that.
Nor how to achieve it.
It isn't something one can force.
Her eyes fell idly on the newlyweds, who were sharing a dance. It was part of the beauty of weddings, and of marriage. Two beings coming together to create a whole.
Even a waltz has two different sets of steps.
The difference is what makes it work.
Well. He never was a good dancer.
Only when he wanted to be.
It isn't about sacrifice or subsumation.
It's about moving together as one.
United we stand while divided we fall.
To one another.
"How embarrassing," she sighed aloud.
We have the most difficult marriage on Olympus and it still works.
Quite. There must be a way.
If the children are going to the ancient lands and we are persona non gratae on Olympus...
Then we find another way.
Indeed.
She drew a champagne flute from the air and it filled with gold, sparkling liquid. She raised it in toast to the brides as they finished their dance.
To unity, they thought, and drank.
Characters: Hera/Juno
Content Warnings: Sliiightly spoilery for MoA, better play it safe
Summary: [Juuust in case]Hera/Juno retreated from Olympus to save their skin. The question is what to do next.
Notes: Marathoned the book yesterday and when I tried to sleep this wouldn't leave my head. So here you go? :D? Cross-posted to AO3.
Word Count: 796
She stood with her palms flat against a concrete wall, her forehead resting against the cool grey surface.
A length of barbed wire was twisting itself around inside her chest, and there was a fist-sized lump gathering in her throat.
We cannot cry.
Yes. It is for children.
She took a deep, shuddering breath. She turned around and leant back against the wall, pinching her nose.
We need a plan.
We had a plan.
Surely he cannot keep us out for long.
He needs us.
Does he?
She swallowed, but they knew there was no point following that particular rabbit hole. That would just leave them wallowing in a back alley, turning over thousands of years of decisions they had always been sure of that couldn't possibly changed now.
At least her headache had dulled to a gentle throb. Even then it still felt as if a wedge was being driven straight into her crown, splitting her skull from her chin all the way to over her head to the nape of her neck.
She shook her head, and the split pulsed painfully. They had their differences, but at least they were far better united than some of the gods. Her chest squirmed uncomfortably as their mind jumped to Athena/Minerva. As much of a flake as the healer boy was, he had stayed whole while the sharpest mind on Olympus had cracked and broken. Some use that had been! There was nothing he could do for any of them. This was not an ailment that could be waved away with nectar and magic.
Our plan is the only way.
Perhaps not the only way. The best way, though.
Quite. Though that in itself is nothing peculiar.
She had to smile at that.
We need to go somewhere to think.
Indeed. Somewhere we can relax.
She stepped out of the alley. New York City was, of course, oblivious to any cosmic turmoil. The sun shone as bright as ever and the streets were filled with the organized chaos that was the city's life blood.
New York City on a Saturday in June. There was bound to be a wedding going on somewhere.
* * *
She found several, in fact. She had been quite prepared to slip into the back pew of the first service she came across, but one look at the groom and they knew they couldn't do it.
It probably didn't help that he was blonde.
Eventually she found a reception for a couple who were both brides. A slight sigh of relief escaped her. Now they could think without being distracted.
There was a free table at the back of the hall and she slipped over to it, delicately drawing the Mist around her. Their strength was not what it had been, but they should be able to deflect mortals from noticing her.
Can we contact the children?
We no longer fall inside his jurisdiction, surely.
Then it would not be forbidden.
But then, what would we tell them?
She paused, tracing her finger over the lace flowers in the tablecloth.
No.
There is nothing we could tell them.
They have the information they need.
Then... getting back to Olympus?
Indeed.
She sat back in the chair and surveyed the room. The flowers looked particularly beautiful. She herself would have chosen red tulips over yellow, but floriography was no longer in favour with mortals as it had once been.
They needed to reunite the family. Her mother would be appalled everything had gotten so out of hand, but things had spun away from them so rapidly it was a miracle they still had any kind of hold on them.
There needs to be balance.
Harmony. Some of them never really understood that.
Nor how to achieve it.
It isn't something one can force.
Her eyes fell idly on the newlyweds, who were sharing a dance. It was part of the beauty of weddings, and of marriage. Two beings coming together to create a whole.
Even a waltz has two different sets of steps.
The difference is what makes it work.
Well. He never was a good dancer.
Only when he wanted to be.
It isn't about sacrifice or subsumation.
It's about moving together as one.
United we stand while divided we fall.
To one another.
"How embarrassing," she sighed aloud.
We have the most difficult marriage on Olympus and it still works.
Quite. There must be a way.
If the children are going to the ancient lands and we are persona non gratae on Olympus...
Then we find another way.
Indeed.
She drew a champagne flute from the air and it filled with gold, sparkling liquid. She raised it in toast to the brides as they finished their dance.
To unity, they thought, and drank.