The Queen Below

Chapter 1

 I knew the Olympians. I knew their games, their sins, their debauchery, how fickle their attention and affections were. I saw the results of their actions every day, and it disgusted me. They were all kings and queens, accustomed to taking whatever they wanted, no matter the cost, no matter if it was consensual.

That was how I was created, and many others were like me in that aspect. It made me sick to my stomach to think about how my mother looked at me, a removed love with undertones of horror. I couldn't blame her for it, though.

"Persephone, sister, why does your face look so sour?" Aphrodite spoke suddenly, pulling me from my thoughts, her voice a sultry but irritating whine from where she was reclining on a lounge across the room.

"The only acceptable type of sour is sour wine!" Dionysus moved closer and I could feel his unruly curls brush against my hair as he peered into my goblet. "You should have some more! Do you not like it?"

I took a long drink to appease him and to get him away from me. It would help me not think for a while, but the course of a few hours felt as insignificant as a grain of sand to immortals. "No, it's lovely."

"Aren't you enjoying yourself? We could find you a nymph to keep you company, if you wished." Aphrodite leaned towards me, grinning like a wolf, but my gaze lowered to watch how the translucent fabric of her peplos fell away to reveal skin. "If you're worried about not knowing what you're doing, I would be more than happy to offer my expertise."

I took another long drink to prevent myself from having to stammer a reply to my sister while they laughed.

"And even with this beautiful music, too! Well, I happen to be enjoying myself." Apollo was lounging with Ganymede, the cupbearer and lover both Zeus and Apollo shared, completely naked and covered in oil. Because Apollo's hands were busy with his lyre, Ganymede brought a goblet to Apollo's lips.

"All of you look far too deeply into my thoughts, siblings. I was just thinking about the harvest. There's some kind of disease that's been wiping out a lot of crops."

"Persephone is her mother's daughter, after all." Athena walked into the room, removing her helm and shaking her dark hair loose.

"You look absolutely horrible," Aphrodite commented, voicing what we were all thinking.

"Does the blood of my enemies not count as proper rouge? I haven't noticed," Athena quipped. Blood stained her armor, and her sword, though sheathed, was most likely covered in it. Dried brown made crescent rings under her short nails.

"Welcome home." I made room for her in the lounge next to me, which forced Dionysus to find a new seat elsewhere. "Where have you been?"

"Troy." She accepted the seat and sat with a heavy sigh, unfastening her chest plate. "It has been a long day."

"I'll help you," I offered, giving my goblet to her, which she quickly downed. She moved closer to me as I helped her out of her armor, and I paused to ask, "Ganymede, can you please bring some oil to me?"

He obliged only because it was his job to serve us, much to Apollo's disappointment.

I coated my hands with oil and began rubbing her shoulders. I did not mind that her skin was smeared with blood and that it mixed with the oil. As any immortal would, I had seen a lot of it in my time, if not distantly. My thumbs made their way down her spine as she attempted to relax into my touch, but her muscles remained corded and tough, refusing to loosen at all costs.

Aphrodite and Apollo cast a few side glances at each other, and I ignored them. They thought we were lovers, and I supposed we looked like we were. Athena was naked, sitting between my thighs, and resting against my chest as my hands kneaded her sides. We were only friends; they could believe what they wanted. Although I thought about the possibility of us together often in my youth, Athena had voiced to me and to the others many times that she had no care for matters of the heart and sex with any gender. They didn't believe her, but I did.