Chapter 5 May - Hera & Nemesis #2
Hera’s heart lifted a touch more, but she schooled her features and just squeezed the ladder harder.
She was at fault there, where Demeter and Persephone were concerned.
Zeus concocted the plan, and she did nothing to stop him.
Inaction was as damning as if she had come up with the entire thing on her own.
He had blamed her nonetheless. That stung more than she dared to acknowledge.
That she had been his scapegoat for millennia and that everyone believed him.
Sure, Hades and her niece ended up being a happy match, but the horrors Demeter had endured… Hera sighed.
“Now don’t turn all sentimental on me, you old softie.”
Just as Hera was thinking all those good thoughts about her sister, she had to go and call her names.
“If you’re going to be abusive like this and call me old, I shall move somewhere else.”
Demeter just laughed and waved her away. Hera went.
“I know when I am unwanted!”
In a huff and not caring who saw it, she moved towards the buffet, ostensibly to observe the unpacking of the endless sandwiches and muffins.
“They’re cupcakes, Hera. Hello.”
The air changed consistency to her left, becoming a curious mixture of ice and freshness, and she knew immediately, even before this particular goddess spoke, who was nearby.
Nemesis, strangely subdued and not at all vengeful, despite the fact that Hera understood how ridiculous she sounded in her head, was grinning at her, long tresses falling over her face, hiding a small detail that not many, mortals or immortals, were ever privy to.
Nemesis’s freckles. It was as if Fates had a sense of humor, though Hera knew too well the three crones had not a smidge of that to rub between them.
And yet, looking at this sculpted face, the chiseled edge of the jaw, the line of the nose, the arches of the brow… Severe, perfect, and lethal.
And then there were the freckles. There weren’t many, barely a dusting of them high in her razor-sharp cheekbones, but Hera had seen them. And Hera could no longer not see them, especially when they were this close.
Why were they this close?
Hera took a tiny step back. Self-preservation really. And they shouldn’t be seen together. For reasons. Hera closed her eyes and counted to ten, to remind herself of all those reasons.
“Relax, it’s a baby shower. Everyone is hopped up on hormones, baby talk and hopefulness for the immediate future. Nobody here gives a damn about who you’re talking to.”
Hera wanted to protest. For the sake of the principle.
She was and always had been—and would always be, thank you very much—the most important Goddess of them all.
The most visible one. She was the Empress of Olympus.
The focal point of every room she ever entered.
All eyes were at all times on her. However, Nemesis was probably right about the time and the place they were currently sharing.
She looked around again. Everyone was otherwise occupied.
Athena was still wrestling with a mountain of wrapping paper.
Fates, that woman had lost all her marbles, and not just to the British Museum.
Erato was playing with Cerberus. Hades was nowhere to be seen.
Demeter was the only one throwing looks their way, but if there was a person whose silence Hera never had to worry about, it was her sister. Hera felt her shoulders relax.
As she turned and ran headlong into ice-cold blue eyes, she reconsidered her nonchalance. The gaze was hypnotic. And dangerous.
She took another step and felt her back hit the wall to the side of the buffet spread. Somewhat secluded from the rest of the room. Somewhat.
Nemesis did not need an invitation. She stepped closer and… As her nose almost touched Hera’s pulse point, jumping rapidly now on the side of her neck, dear Hestia, Nemesis inhaled. Deeply.
“Your scent has always driven me mad.”
“It’s a short drive.” Hera bit back and watched Nemesis’s thin red lips stretch into a pleased smile, showing off her perfect teeth. For some unfathomable reason, Hera imagined those closing around her nipple, biting down hard and her knees almost buckled.
She laid a hand on Nemesis’s sternum to push her away. To make some space for herself to breathe. To…
A heart beat steadily under cold skin. Hera felt this steadiness was supremely unfair since her own was working double time.
Her fingers dug into the silk of the white shirt and tangled there, pulling the Goddess of Vengeance closer.
A cough from somewhere above them reminded Hera that her sister was still stringing the cursed fairy lights and was still on the cursed ladder and could still see everything.
Demeter smirked and winked.
“I see Sabine and Abby are already here, and that means that Aphrodite is about to make her entrance. So, if you two horny kids could keep those hands to yourselves for a few hours?”
Nemesis laughed, in that good-natured way of hers, where everything was a joke, and nothing was ever serious until it was deadly. Hera frowned.
Her impending temper tantrum was halted in its tracks by the woman of the hour—fine, Hera could admit that much—stepping into the room and gasping in feigned shock. Theatrically.
“Fates, give me strength. She knew she was having a baby shower, for Zeus’ sake.” Hera rolled her eyes. Again. She’d sprain something by the time it was all over.
“You need to work on decentering men, Hera. It’s the right thing to do, darling. I can help, you know.” Nemesis whispered and clapped as the expecting mother made her way towards her throne. Hera’s eyes widened.
Behind them, Demeter smirked, watching her sister and the most unlikely candidate for this particular heart spar and bicker.
As Aphrodite, who looked like an angel, accepted a plate of green and yellow colored snacks and Athena all but prostrated herself at her wife’s feet, in the sweetest expressions of adoration, Demeter looked around herself and then up, where the little bright light bulbs she had strung winked and danced.
She’d have to thank Audrey for the idea.
Demeter reached for the marker and for a spare bulb, still giving Hera and Nemesis a very close look.
Then she carefully scribbled their names and screwed the bulb right next to the one bearing her and Erato’s.
Near that one, Dite and Athena’s names shone bright.
She’d have to make one more for this very moment, Demeter thought, where they were all together. And happy. And only a little worried about Hera’s new harebrained idea. Perhaps Nemesis would keep her in check.
“Hope springs eternal, my love.” Erato, who had climbed carefully behind her, took the pen out of Demeter’s hands and drew her into a kiss. And who was Demeter to argue, with either the words or the love? The lights would have to wait just a little bit. She was busy being loved.