“Don’t go where I can’t follow.” (zeus)
They had fought before, of course. They had fought so hard that the whole of Olympus shook from their fury. The skies had turned a dark, bruise purple, streaks of lightening flashing followed by the roar of thunder. They have fought so badly that Hera willed the stars to cease from shining in the night sky, plunging the kingdom into darkness. They had fought so wildly that their rage threatened to split the kingdom in two.
But never, ever, in their eons together has husband and wife, had either of them walked out on the other. Perhaps it was an ode to their marriages vows – for better or for worse. Both Hera and Zeus always weathered whatever storm they created, always endured until it too came to pass.
Zeus may have always strayed from her side but Hera knew that when the pair were at odds, he committed himself to staying. To at least somewhat righting the mess between them. Maybe that was why Hera fought with him so much. It was a guarantee that he would stay with her long enough for her to know that a part of him still cared.
Yes, Zeus and Hera had always fought. But this time, this time was a little different.
She was not one for breaking their unspoken vows to each other, for she always thought that she honoured them more than he. But this time, this time Hera had felt a rage like no other.
He was having a baby. Just, not hers.
Long into the night she cursed his name, swore that the stars in heaven would rain down upon him and his bastard child and whore mother. She promised that the child would rip itself into this world and that Hera would ensure its life would be full of trials.
But then he did the only thing he could - eyes flashing with what could only be described as an unspoken apology as he pulled rank. A king commanding his queen. She was not to interfere.
Hera stared into the beautiful captivating eyes of her husband and knew that for the first time in her marriage, he saw the tears that were there. The ones she would not shed out of sheer pride. But he saw them nonetheless. Saw that he had crossed a line and that she too, would do the same in return.
She felt his gaze burning into her skin as she frantically packed, clutching what clothes her shaking hands could grasp, stuffing them into her bag.
“Where are you going to go?” Zeus demanded, but Hera heard the faintest strain of panic.
She ignored him, shouldering the bag as she moved to storm past him, his strong hands held her in place, held her at a breath’s distance. “Don’t go, Hera.”
She stared up at him, her eyes wide and fought against her crumbling resolve. She wanted to bury herself in his arms, to demand that he make it all go away - the pain, the hurt, the entire mess the pair had caused between them. She wanted her husband back, not a king, but the man who whispered wicked things in her ear as they dined with other royals, the man who left little sea shells in the most strangest of places for her to find. The man who watched her with heavy-lidded eyes as her dress pooled to her feet every night and beckoned her to join him. The man who had only eyes for her.
Sometimes, Hera felt as though she was loving a stranger.
“Don’t go.” He repeated and Hera just shook her head, wrenching herself from his traitorous touch. She couldn’t speak, couldn’t trust herself to. They had said everything there was to say.
Her heels echoed on the marble steps as she descended, her grip on the golden railing tight as she forced herself to move, forced herself to go.
She paused half way down the stairs, turning back to find her husband leaning against the railing with a torn expression. The skin against his knuckles were strained as if he fought to stop himself from going after her. A heady silence followed as the two stared at each other, the void between them screaming for one to relent, for one to utter the words Hera craved. Perhaps, maybe, even Zeus craved to hear too.
I love you, I love you, I love you.
Hera’s mouth tightened to stop herself from uttering them. She would not be the one to give in, not his time.
Finally, he sighed - for all the world looking like the god who had lived lifetimes upon lifetimes and had grown weary of it all. “Just…” He trailed off. “Don’t go where I can’t follow.”
Hera swore his eyes spoke what his words did not - because I will follow you. Because she wanted, above all else, for him to come for her, to bring her home. To stop her.
She nodded tightly and turned away, drawing in a deep breath willing herself to take another step, to keep going.
Yes, Zeus and Hera had fought before. Countless times. Perhaps they always will. But that was the first and only time Hera walked away from a fight. The only time her husband could not right what was wrong between them.
