Chapter 10: The Golden Throne

“When Volcanus [Hephaestus] had made golden thrones for Jove [Zeus] and the other gods, he made one of adamant for Juno [Hera], and as soon as she sat down she suddenly found herself hanging in the air.” Pseudo-Hyginus, Fabulae 166, translated by Grant, Roman Mythology c. 2nd century CE. Copyright © Grant.

What started as a regular celebration, as regular as Olympus could have, was quickly becoming insanity itself.

Leto’s return started a plethora of rumors. For some, it was amazing that she had gone and come back. Others commented on how powerful Hera must have been to harass and banish Leto for almost two decades. Less whispered about how influential Zeus must have been to get Hera to let her ire go.

However, a majority of Olympus believed that by slaying Python, Apollo must have earned his father’s attention. Of course, he had been so very gracious as to share credit for the slaying of the serpentine creature with his sister. After all, Apollo had light arrows. How much could Artemis have contributed, really?

The sisterly twin said very little, but Apollo was learning to cherish the attention. He lapped it up as the bright one of the two.

Leto watched her children shine. She wondered if Zeus would truly keep his promise and give her what she asked for.

When she watched him stand in front of the entirety of Olympus and say he was welcoming back his son and daughter by Leto, she had a feeling he might. She was unsure what this truly meant for her position on Olympus, but she did believe that her children’s future was secure.

For the moment, for Leto, that was enough.

Hera returned to her palace. She paced back and forth.

What was there to do? She kept trying to find a positive way to look at it. A tree that bound her to her husband ... Was he bound up too?

No. Of course he was not. He had slept with Leto, which meant he was not forbidden from touching anyone else. Only she was prevented from having any carnal relations with anyone but her partner. Were there consequences for Zeus? Was there a downside?

The more she thought about it, the more she needed answers. If only she had held back her temper with Gaia, she might have discovered more. Her inability to control her emotions was what was leaving her at a disadvantage when dealing with the rulers of Olympus. From Rhea, to Gaia, to Zeus, Hera consistently lost because she was blinded by her feelings.

At first, she believed it was an attachment to Hades, but it was deeper. She could finally see that. The weakness was not her love for the Chthonic King, but rather that she allowed her love to lead her in any way.

She walked to her water basin. She looked into the reflective liquid, seeing herself in it. While others saw a queen, the equal to Zeus, Hera saw all of her flaws, her weaknesses, her foibles, and mistakes.

No more. She would no longer be the weak supplicant queen to Zeus, for Gaia, or any reason. Freedom was her gift to herself in the revelation.

Splashing the water, she pulled herself upright. She straightened up her wreath crown of blue-gold. Her gaze sharpened. Her eyes grew more and more charged with the magic that glowed in her veins until her eyes were as violet.

The celebration continued on in the distance while Zeus and Prometheus ascended the steps to the secluded heights of Zeus’ palace. They ignored all of the usual luxuries like the marble walls and column, gold regalia or the fine crimson curtains. The palace was above all of Olympus, but these two deities, more accustomed to this station than any others, were above all of the wealth provided to them with their position.

This was their arena of deliberation rather than the frivolity down below.

Moonlight accented their meeting even as torches flickered along the walls. Their steps were purposeful and the only noise heard when they reached their private meeting room.

Zeus entered first. He did not look back when he reached the great table at the center of the room. The map of the lands, including Olympus and the Underworld, was spread atop of it. When Zeus realized that only a single brazier was giving light to the room, he flicked his finger and other torches lit up. If they were to have this discussion, they were sure as Tartarus going to do it in the comfort of light.

Prometheus followed behind his king quietly. After the statue of Metis and the battle that nearly ended the titan’s life, the smartest son of Iapetus had been afforded a position of trust and friendship no one else had with Zeus. Prometheus had no ambitions to rule. He had shown that particular characteristic since the Great War.

His sharp eyes understood Zeus’ demeanor. He paused by a column, looking over the map of their lands. There were times, small fleeting moments, where Prometheus wondered if Hyperion had the right of it by traveling to other lands, understanding other cultures

Zeus exhaled deeply, as if expelling the remnants of his public persona. This snatched Prometheus’ attention back to his ruler. He leaned over the table, so he might survey the map. Finally, Zeus straightened, his gaze shifting to meet Prometheus’.

“Yes?” Prometheus wondered.

“I want to announce my decision tomorrow,” Zeus said.

“Tomorrow?” Prometheus asked. “Why? Your twins only just arrived in Olympus.”

“How long should I wait?” Zeus asked lightheartedly.

Prometheus knew that tone of voice. It was for show. The kind eyes, the soft smile, and the air of courtesy were all clothes Zeus wore, same as his tunic and sandals, to get others to let their guards down. This was how the king got his way.

Either someone fell into the trap of his geniality by letting their guard drop, Zeus would get them to leave, get what he wanted, or he would threaten. This was how he lived his life.

This was Prometheus’ only inclination that he needed to be careful.

“Those two only just arrived here. There are gods and lesser titans who have been begging for a morsel of your attention, Zeus. Let the gossip and the rumors of your children’s great deeds work in your favor.”

The Thunderer gave Prometheus a look that told the son of Iapetus to continue.

“It would be a mistake to assume that you rule without popularity. Your attack on me and my brother was over a decade ago, but what you do, and how you do it is remembered. Some fear you. Some look for reasons to side against you. Your popularity is key.”

“Then I have to wait a few days until I declare the Olympians and the twelve thrones?”

Prometheus nodded. “That would be the most sensible course of action.”

Zeus exhaled. “Very well, but we shall have celebrations to commence.” When Prometheus did not leave, the king gave his advisor a look. “Was there anything else?”

“Two things...” Prometheus breathed.

“Why do I have the feeling that I am not going to like this?”

“I do not believe they are so terrible,” Prometheus mused.

“Give me the harder news first,” Zeus said.

“Very well,” Prometheus remarked. “ I do not believe I should be one of your twelve Olympians.”

Whatever response Prometheus had believed Zeus would muster, from confusion to curiosity, he was not ready for the one of indignant anger.

“Excuse me?” Zeus asked. His eyes grew charged with a white lightning pulsating.

“Each position is someone you can leverage in the future, a position that will grant prestige and influence for the millenia to come,” Prometheus explained, standing at his full height.

He was prepared for his sovereign’s wrath. For him, on this day, insight would be victorious, not power, because it was a necessity that intellect and wisdom run a kingdom, not just the potent force one such as Zeus brought to bear.

“I serve you, Zeus. I already serve you. My position on Olympus is secured. That seat could go to Hades, and you two might make right with one another. You could give it to Cratus and further keep him by your side. You could give the position to Gaia or your mother.”

Zeus waved him off. “Hades was never going to be an option. Our mutual disdain for one another aside, he spends his time in the Underworld. Cratus and his siblings serve me loyally. They are not worried about their prestige or security, and I trust them. Rhea and Gaia are not viable options because they plan, scheme, and plot. I could never trust that they would want to outdo me.”

While Prometheus heard his king, he knew it was best to interrupt him then and there rather than let the moment pass

“Speaking of Gaia,” Prometheus said. “She wants a private audience with you. If we are going to announce the Olympians, it might be smart to hear her first.”

Zeus looked like he might disagree outright before shrugging.

“I will keep both of those considerations under advisement.”

“If I could give one other piece of advice on the matter?” Prometheus asked.

“Your foot is already in the water, Prometheus. You might as well swim,” Zeus remarked, mildly irritated.

“If nothing else, allow Hera to pick the twelfth position. She seems upset by the addition of Artemis and Apollo. The reminder of your extramarital affair is not an event a woman simply shrugs off, Zeus.”

“I’ll think about it,” Zeus said.

“Your Highness...”

“I said I would think on it, Prometheus. What else is there?”

Prometheus sighed. “This morning, Zelus found a gift at the gates of Olympus.”

This piqued Zeus’ interest. He turned to look over his advisor.

“What was it?” Zeus asked.

“A throne,” Prometheus explained.

Zeus let out a laugh. “I already have a throne.”

“That’s the thing, Zeus ... It was for Hera.”

The celebration on Olympus was so loud, one might feel that the heavens themselves might split apart from the noise and joy. The city itself hummed from the very essence of life itself.

Nectar was freely passed out, ambrosia was flowing, dancing, singing, and laughter just grow and grow until the outsiders felt like the mountain might explode from the culmination of this happiness.

In the gardens, surrounded by immortals left and right, Leto glided through the throng like a queen reborn. Her midnight dress could have been made of diamond starlight that rivaled Nyx. Pride and contentment coated all of her words as she was given words of congratulations and well-wishes.

Leto was gracious in turn. She could recognize that the kindnesses were fleeting, but she could wield their support like a weapon in the future if she was smart about it. First, she would need Zeus to keep his word when it came to the boon he offered her.

Not far from her, Artemis found Apollo. She pulled him from the adoring crowd. She marched him to a secluded grove within the many gardens. While she enjoyed the sign of nature, she could tell so much of Olympus was a falsity.

Apollo glanced back at the crowd briefly. While Artemis ensured no one had followed them, Apollo seemed more interested in their fawning audience than he did his sister’s want to talk.

He leaned against the tree with his unusual easy grace, folding his arms. His eyes may have darted to the crowds where he was popular, but he always had an awareness of where Artemis was. She sat on a bench, looking weary.

She waited for the sounds of the celebration to fade. While it lessened, it certainly did not quiet into their background.

There they stood as twin gods, victorious and newly exalted. To be the children of Zeus was worthy of praise in these times. They had suffered exile, unlike most gods. They were the destroyers of Python. They had triumphed and returned to the highest mountain in the lands.

“Art, why did you drag me away from the party?”

“You mean your adoring fans?” Artemis challenged.

“What can I say? They love me,” Apollo replied with cheer.

“It is easy to love a shining god when they think you single handedly killed Python,” Artemis remarked. There was a challenge about her.

“They think I did this and that’s what I did to upset you?” Apollo asked.

“I wonder how many would love you if they knew how you nearly drowned,” Artemis snipped.

“Artemis! I can’t control how people think of me!”

“You can correct them,” she said simply. She shook her head. “I miss our island. I wish we were still there.”

She looked down, reminiscent of her home.

“Why? We are loved here! We both have palaces being made up for us. There will be new clothes, people respect us, and we won’t be forgotten on our little island.”

“Today! Today they love us, Apollo. Today! These are the same people that ignored our lives for years, baby brother!”

“You were born less than an hour before me,” Apollo whined.

“My point is, they love us today, Apollo. That won’t last. Family. Mom, you, me ... That’s forever. This place ... It’s just ... It’s just shining nonsense.”

“Yes, Arty,” Apollo said, giving into his sister. They embraced in a hug for a moment before Apollo asked, “Now, may we rejoin the party?”

Artemis nodded with a grimace. “Let’s go, Shining One,” she said, joking at the title others provided Apollo with.

As they returned, they saw Zeus announcing something. He was standing before much of the gathering procession. They reached the back of the crowd when Zeus declared: