Chapter 3: Rhea’s Guidance

“A mother did not indulge but loved unconditionally in the deepest possible of ways.”

-- Maya Angelou during an interview with ABC News’ Diane Sawyer, published on May 11, 2006; quoted in The Livewell Playground.

In the heights of Olympus, two divine women looked out upon the land of Greece.

One was taller and had golden flecks in her brown hair while the other had a darker shade of brown. Both shone with power above even the other titans and god; the older was Rhea in a gown of blue and gold while Hera wore a dress of white and silver.

Upon both of their heads were crowns. Hera’s was smaller to denote her position as a princess while Rhea’s gray-silver wreath headwear wrapped all the way around her head.

“This Realm will be yours to rule someday, Hera,” Rhea remarked.

The two overlooked Olympus and all that was below it from the terrace of Rhea’s palace. It was the one place where Cronos had given Rhea complete freedom, including the privilege of privacy.

Hera looked up to her mother, confused. She knew she was different; after all, her mother had separated her from Demeter and Hestia to tutor her in matters of manners and magic.

“But what of you? What of father?” the princess asked.

“Sometimes, not all things last, Hera,” Rhea said distantly. She did not face her daughter at the moment. She looked out at the Realm. Her eyes went from the heavens to the earth below. “I want you prepared to be the Queen of Olympus should the time come that your father and I are removed.”

“But who would remove you?” Hera asked with the innocence of a child.

Though she was a woman in many senses of the word, Hera had lived only a few centuries. Comparatively, this was barely a flicker compared to Rhea’s millennia causing uncertainty in any actions Hera undertook. This contributed to her being dependent on her mother’s wisdom for guidance.

“We have to be prepared if something happens, Hera. Planning for the possible will prepare you for the plausible.”

“Yes, Mother,” Hera said with a bowed head.

She did not say that she understood because she did not, and Hera was raised to deal in honesty. That did not stop her from being mystified (as well as mildly discouraged) at her mother’s actions. The lack of comprehension also compounded her feelings. In the end, knowing her mother and how conversations with her went, she knew it was best to go along until she knew more

“I will be a good queen.”

“No! Hera. You will be the good queen. You will rule Olympus. This is a throne and path I will be preparing for you, and no other.”

Hera nodded her head before lowering it in deference to the Titan Queen.

“Yes, Mother.”

Zeus threw off his tunic before pinning Gaia to the ground.

“Yes, Zeus, like that,” Gaia moaned, feeling his desire rubbing against the lips of her sex. She could feel herself moistening from the contact.

Feeling almost captured when he had her on her back, on her own island, she reveled in his aggressive desires. When his lips went to her breasts, she gave her embonpoint to him more fully than any before. Not even her former husband, Ouranos, had been handed such a privilege.

There was something about Zeus that reminded Gaia of her husband. While he was not a spitting image of Father Sky, Zeus had it in him to be a ruler with just as much distinction as Ouranos. Maybe that was why Gaia felt so easy to give herself to Zeus. The more she gave, the more Zeus was willing to take. It fed itself more and more. And even as she thought of that, she screamed out with another orgasm.

That was just another similarity to his grandfather. What Gaia and Ouranos had done on instinct, giving an example to their children and siblings, Zeus was improving on with that same instinct.

With Ouranos, Gaia recalled only climaxing once or twice from the entirety of their sexual unions. With Zeus, every touch led to a new, higher experience. There was no way his prowess could last; it was not sustainable. That would not stop Gaia from enjoying every moment of Zeus’ wanton, hungry yearnings.

Gasping, Gaia wrapped her legs around Zeus when he pushed his impressive, pulsing shaft into her.

“Fucking Chaos!” Gaia called out. She dug her nails into the very ground.

“Do you like that?” Zeus asked, smirking.

Arrogance oozed from him while he was within Gaia’s body. Possessing the Primordial Queen was a privilege that only one had known at this point in their history, and Zeus knew it.

“Yes! Yes, Zeus. Take me!”

Zeus grabbed her hips with the knowledge of the treasure he was taking. Slamming deep into her, the Lightning Prince lost himself to his uncontrolled devouring lust.

Gaia did not care that he was manipulating her form for his pleasure. It was the opposite. She relished his passionate efforts. For the first time in millennia, she was desired so greatly by a single individual that she could feel that palpably with every forceful thrust.

“Faster! Faster! Fuck me!” she cried out. While it might have been an order, Zeus’ confident smile warned her that while she gave the order, only he could fulfill it, so she might as well be begging.

“I’m close!” Zeus warned.

He was panting like an animal. His impending orgasm had stripped away all decorum that might have been trained into him. All that mattered for him was the release.

“Where do you want it this time?”

Gaia was lost in her pleasures. While he was in her, she might as well have been on Olympus as wave after wave of pleasure overtook her. She knew by the time he released his long ropes of godly seed, she would orgasm again for him.

“In me!” Gaia pleaded.

As she lay on her back, her legs began to shake. The Primordial Queen was unable to keep them wrapped around the divine prince. Gaia could feel his amusement and joy in her want of him. When she was so close, Zeus withdrew from her.

“Zeus! No!” Gaia screamed.

Zeus’ smirk became a full grin. His teeth were bared and flashing as he stroked himself to completion. For all of his administering of pleasing eroticisms, Gaia could not find the strength to even sit up and prevent this disobedience. In her vulnerability, Zeus shot his semen on her face and chest.

Despite being denied his sperm within her and even the pleasure of the orgasm, there was something arousing, about the demeaning way Zeus marked Gaia with his ejaculate.

Gaia smiled at Zeus seductively but said nothing. There would be time for words. Just then, she wanted to bathe in the light of the radiant god that had given her immense pleasure.

Hades stared out at the belly of Cronos. The landscape was the same as it ever was. Change only occurred when their father consumed food. In this consistency, it was easy for the eldest son of the Titan King and Queen to lose himself to his thoughts.

Was it possible that Poseidon was right? Often, he mocked his brother’s intellect. He was too high strung, full of himself, energetic, and happy for Hades’ tastes.

The problem was that the more he thought on the manner of stone and the crib, he was starting to believe that Poseidon was right.

Was it possible that there was another sibling out there who Rhea had saved?

If so, could this unknown brother be their salvation?

Shaking his head, Hades knew better than to hope. Hope is what had killed his elder brother, Aether.

Hades could not tell Poseidon about their older half-brother through Rhea. The tale of Aether’s wallowing and suffering was not something Poseidon could handle.

Cronos was the Titan of Time. His power over the flow of chronal events was absolute eleven if he did not realize it.

While a divine being in the outer world was not affected by his influence, within his belly, time was fluid. Sometimes it flowed fast, and other times, it was slow.

It was unfortunate that Aether had been consumed by the Titan King, for Aether had aged thousands of years by the time Hades fell into the realm of Cronos’ belly.

The acceleration of time should not have harmed a descendent of Chaos. Under normal circumstances, this disruption might not have done anything to the son of Ouranos and Rhea. However, weakened by Cronos’ divine powers, Aether had been denied his immortality.