Chapter Text
Hera was doing just fine with ignoring Metis.
If by ignoring, you meant practicing her (finally) growing magic with throwing pebbles at the back of her head.
“Will you stop that!” Metis growled when yet another pebble bounced off her forehead in the War Tent. Hera was happily basking in the presence of her siblings and Kalypso while they began to debate their next move. She tried to, again, broach the topic of their three remaining imprisoned uncles. Metis swiftly shut her down and began talking over gathering supplies for the ships.
So Hera gave into her newfound temptation and summoned a pebble to attack.
Some may say it’s an abuse of power. Great power, great responsibility, and all that jazz.
Hera would say screw you, I’m a princess, I can do what I want.
Kalypso was very proud.
“What?” Hera asked, with an innocent tilt of her head, “What did I do?”
Metis glared as Hera’s siblings hid their snickers, “Stop throwing rocks at me.”
“Oh! Is that me?” She gasped, “I’m so sorry! I’m new to this magic stuff!” She could just hear the gnashing of the oceanid’s teeth.
Zeus folded away from Metis, shaking with silent laughter. She noticed anyway and sneered at him. He gave a nonchalant shrug with an indulgent grin, “Come on, Metis. She’s still learning.”
Metis scoffed and simply spun on her heel, storming out of the tent. It was awkwardly silent among the generals.
“So…Now what?” Hera broke the silence.
Zeus sighed, “I’ll go get her. Let’s have a break from this meeting.”
Hera felt a little bad. She probably took it too far. Not because of Metis’ feelings or anything, but more so wasting the time of her siblings and friends.
So, as everyone collected out of the tent for a small break, she snuck off to the forest. She could probably track down her wandering flock and play with them until the rest of the meeting was over.
However, as she made her way through the woods, she spotted a peculiar looking outcove with a sheer curtain, almost a shadow instead of actual fabric, hovering. They had been on this island for almost a decade, and yet she had never seen that before.
Curious, she wandered closer, and, brushing past the shadowy curtain, the goddess made her way down a dimly lit stairway. When she reached the end, she found herself inside a cavernous room. The dark pillars resembled stalagmites and stalactites. The room seemed to go on for ages, as a green-tinted light shone from the waters that surrounded the ground.
What truly caught her attention, however, were the many, many woven tapestries that covered the walls and hung from the ceiling of the cave that just kept going.
So awed, she didn’t even notice the three people in the middle of the floor.
“It’s good to know someone appreciates Our work,” a youthful voice spoke.
Hera yelped and spun to see three ladies staring at her.
The one who spoke looked more like a child than anything else. A little girl with dark skin, with her black hair styled in an afro. In her arms was a large spindle of threads, which she continued to roll out as she playfully smirked at the goddess.
The one sitting in the middle of the three was harder to look at. Her appearance kept shifting itself, as if rapidly aging between young and old. Her skin was more similar to Hera’s own olive tone, with her black wavy hair pinned up. She was not even watching her own as she wove the threads together. She instead wore a litting smile as she stared at Hera, her hands not missing a step.
The woman holding a pair of scissors was the eldest. Her wrinkled skin was pale and her white hair practically veiled her body. Her smile was soft, kind, she’d even say a bit loving, as she snipped the thread at the end of the completed tapestry.
The only thing the three shared were their eyes. Their eyes were an ever shifting kaleidoscope of rainbow, seeing all there was, all there is and all there will be.
“The Moirai,” Hera breathed in awe.
The Fates rarely showed themselves to anyone beyond their mother, Nyx, and younger brother, Thanatos.
The middle woman nodded, “Correct. I am Lachesis. Welcome to Our Abode, Dear One.”
Hera glanced around the vast cavern, “You moved into a random cave on our hidden island?”
The elderly one shook her head, “We are the Ones who decide the future of all within this universe. We cannot be held down in one place. Our Home moves and appears where It deems Us needed.” She snipped another thread and smiled, “I am Atropos.”
“I am Klotho,” The young girl spun her staff, unflowing more thread for Lachesis to use, “Our Home is a piece of Our Grandparent, the Creator Itself, Khaos. Only It may determine where We shall appear.”
Hera frowned slightly in confusion, “Why would Khaos bring you here?”
Atropos answered coyly, “Perhaps It desires for Us to speak with you.”
“But why?” She questioned. “I don’t understand what It would want to tell me. Is it because I…” She hesitated. These were the Morai, but did they know fully what she was? That she was a reborn soul? Surely they must? Or perhaps she was such an anomaly that even the Ones who write Fate can’t know everything about her?
“Your Tapestry is quite the strange one,” Atropos stated, gesturing to a loom standing behind them. An unfinished tapestry was displayed, brighter and larger than the ones strung about the cavern.
“Yes,” Lachesis hummed, “We do not even need to Weave it. It merely takes our String and designs as it wishes.”
Was….was she supposed to apologize for ruining their job? Is that why Khaos wanted her here? To punish her?!
Klotho let out a cackle, one that sent shivers down Hera’s spine, “Oh, what an amusing expression upon your face!”
Atropos shook her head in exasperation, while Lachesis sighed, “Do not tease Our Dear One. She is frightened as is.” Klotho merely continued to giggle.
Atropos gestured slightly with her wrinkled hands, “You would not believe that Klotho is the eldest of Us.” The younger appearing sister simply stuck her tongue out at the elder appearing. Hera gave an awkward and uneasy smile to them. “We believe Khaos merely wishes to give heed. You have done much in your short life.” It was kinda weird hearing someone call it a short life as Hera can’t really feel the passage of time anymore. Though she did know she hasn’t even made it to a hundred yet, as her Mother helped her get a proper sense of how long she had been in Father’s gut, so yes, it has been a short life so far.
“Poor Dear One will not be happy all the time,” Klotho simpered. There was a mixture of mockery and, somehow, true sympathy in her eyes.
Lachesis, on the other hand, looked forlorn, “Yes. Trials are ahead of you, Dear One.”
Atropos simply shook her head, a soft smile cracking on her wrinkled face, “Fate is ever changing. Tis only over when We cut the threads. Your tapestry is still being made, Dear One. You may forge the path you wish, but there will still be hardships to overcome. If all stayed happy and calm, life would be meaningless. Keep heart, Dear One.”
And yet, that was not enough to soothe her worries, the goddess mused, when she eventually wandered out of the subspace.