I Am Zeus-Chapter 48: Extending The Invitation

Olympus – Hera’s Private Chambers

The halls of Olympus glowed with pale afternoon light as Zeus walked through them, his robes brushing softly against polished marble. The golden clasps at his shoulders glinted with every step, catching the sunbeams that streamed through the high arched windows. Servants bowed as he passed, their eyes lowered, their breath held until he was gone. His sandals struck the floors with quiet certainty, each step echoing through the silent colonnades like distant thunder.

He stopped before the tall bronze doors of Hera’s private chambers. Two handmaidens stood guard, each bowing low as he approached. Without a word, they pushed open the doors, letting him enter the cool dimness beyond.

Hera’s chambers were quiet. Thin veils of gauze drifted from the high ceiling, pale as moonlight, shifting softly in the breeze from the open balcony. The scent of sandalwood and crushed jasmine lingered in the air. Hera sat before a polished silver mirror, her long dark hair unbound, falling like a shadow down her back. She wore a robe of deep crimson silk embroidered with golden feathers, its sleeves pooling around her as she brushed her hair with slow, silent strokes.

She saw him in the mirror before she turned, her eyes flicking up to meet his golden gaze.

"Zeus," she said quietly, her voice calm and low. "To what do I owe this visit?"

Zeus watched her for a moment, saying nothing as he studied her reflection. The tired lines around her eyes. The cold stillness in her gaze. The quiet beauty that refused to fade despite the burdens she carried. Slowly, he stepped forward until he stood behind her, his massive frame towering over her slender shoulders. He rested his hands lightly on the carved back of her silver chair.

"I am going to Asgard," he said, his deep voice rumbling softly through the quiet chamber. "Odin has requested my presence for the naming ceremony of his son."

Hera’s fingers paused in their brushing. She set the silver comb down on her lap and turned slightly to look up at him, her dark brows arching faintly.

"And you want me to come with you?" she asked. Her voice was calm, but there was a faint edge to it, hidden beneath her quiet poise.

Zeus nodded once. "Yes. I want you to stand beside me."

Hera tilted her head slightly, her gaze sharp and unblinking. "Why not take Metis?" she asked softly, each word careful and cold. "She is your queen now. It would be fitting for her to stand with you before Odin and Frigg."

Zeus exhaled slowly, his golden eyes narrowing faintly as he studied her. For a moment, silence stretched between them, broken only by the soft hiss of burning sandalwood in the small bronze brazier near the balcony doors.

"I want to spend time with you," he said finally, his voice quiet but steady. "Metis is queen of Olympus. But you... you are still Hera."

Her gaze flickered at that, though her face remained still as carved marble. She turned back to the mirror, picking up her comb again, running it through her hair with silent, measured strokes.

"You say that as though it means something," she murmured.

Zeus stepped closer, resting one massive hand lightly on her bare shoulder. The warmth of his skin seeped into hers, but she did not lean into it. Her eyes met his in the mirror, cold and unflinching.

"It does," he said quietly. "Isn’t it your dream to stand beside me? To be seen with me, not as a queen alone, but as my equal before other gods?"

Her fingers tightened around the comb. "My dream," she echoed softly, her voice tinged with quiet bitterness. "Dreams are for girls, Zeus. I am long past them."

He leaned down slightly, his golden hair falling around his face like drifting sunlit threads. For a brief moment, his eyes softened, the stormlight behind them flickering into quiet sadness.

"Then stand beside me not as a dream," he said softly, "but as yourself." fɾēewebnσveℓ.com

Hera said nothing. She simply set the comb down once more and rose from her chair, her crimson robes falling around her like dark fire. She moved past him without looking at his face, walking to the wide balcony where the golden afternoon light spilled across the pale marble floor. She stood there for a long moment, her gaze fixed on the distant horizon where the sky burned with thin streaks of orange and pale gold.

Zeus watched her silently, his hands curling lightly at his sides. The breeze carried the faint scent of her jasmine oil back to him, warm and cold all at once.

Finally, she turned, her eyes dark and calm. "When do we leave?" she asked.

"Tomorrow at dawn," he replied, his voice steady.

She nodded once, her gaze flicking away from him to the quiet gardens far below her balcony. "Then I will be ready."

Zeus stepped forward, placing his hand lightly on her back. She did not flinch, but she did not lean into his touch either. For a moment, he closed his eyes, feeling the quiet tension between them thrum like a silent chord pulled too tight.

"I will see you at dawn," he murmured.

Without another word, he turned and left her chambers, his footsteps echoing softly against the polished marble floors. Hera watched him go, her eyes dark and unreadable.

When the bronze doors closed behind him, she let out a slow breath, her fingers curling around the stone balustrade of the balcony until her knuckles whitened.

Outside, the winds of Olympus rose, carrying the thin scent of olive leaves and distant thunder. She stood there a long time, her crimson robes shifting around her ankles like dying embers as the sun sank low beyond the western peaks.

And far above her, hidden beyond mortal skies, the ravens of Asgard wheeled in silent black arcs, their shadows flickering across the pale clouds as the world turned towards a dawn that promised nothing but storms.

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