Chapter Text
There was tension in the air, Athena noticed.
It was the way Hera glared at Zeus at every moment she seized. It was the all the times Zeus not-so-subtly glowered at Apollo when he thought no one was watching. It was the small, almost unnoticeable glances of confusion Artemis sent at Apollo’s direction.
Yes, something was happening, happening soon, and Athena intended to be a part of this event.
Of course, this tension existed long before Apollo completed his third round of trials. His return only strengthened it, reigniting the flames that should’ve burned everything to the ground years ago.
As usual, her mind drifted back to the failed revolution all these years ago, when Zeus’s corruption had only just been noticeable. Every few decades, she toyed with the notion of starting a new rebellion to overthrow Zeus, but deep down, she knew it was implausible. She had grown complacent and weak over time. To be able to reclaim her lost power was only but a naive dream.
At least, she thought so, before Apollo returned.
As he walked into the completely silent Hall, his every step radiated confidence and deadly power. He met every god in the eye, causing them to twitch uncomfortably in their seats, especially Ares, much to her satisfaction.
Frankly, Athena would never think it possible. The stakes were too high - it was extremely improbable for him to defeat his nemesis as just a mere mortal, and yet he did. He beat all the odds and returned to his throne, and it was oh so satisfying to see Zeus’s agape jaw as he watched Apollo’s body materialise into the Hall.
And now, Athena was busy biding her time, waiting for Apollo to approach her to suggest a revolution. Alas, she had been waiting for six months, with radio silence. From what she had heard, Apollo was avoiding Olympus and all the Olympians. Artemis reported that Apollo didn’t visit her Hunt once.
Athena found it quite concerning. Apollo’s social life on Olympus was, after all, quite legendary. Eventually, she decided to track down Apollo herself and try to convince him to join her cause.
***
Finding Apollo was much trickier than she had assumed.
For a god that unsubtle, he sure knew how to hide his tracks.
Finally, she located his cellular signal in a small art studio in the outskirts of Los Angeles. Immediately, she transported herself to it and knocked on the door to no avail.
Frowning, she checked her tracker again, and yes, he’s still there.
Then why isn’t he answering the door?
Athena knocked on the door again with additional force, and yet still no answer.
After hours of relentless assault on that door, a disgruntled Apollo finally opened it, giving her a slightly irritated look.
“What do you want?” he demanded, “I’m busy.”
“Whatever I have to say is far more important than your frolickings with a mortal,” she hissed.
“I’m not doing that!” Apollo protested.
“Then you can invite me in?”
Apollo looked at her, annoyed, “Fine, come in. And make it fast.”
“Glady.”
She glided in, scrutinizing the boxes full of art supplies set aside neatly, before entering a new room.
It was a total contrast from the entrance hallway. There were paint tubes scattered all across the floor, brushes gathered at a haphazard pile, sketchbooks were lying on the floor half-open and pencils were abandoned at the entryway.
In the middle of the chaos was an easel. On it was an oil painting of a satyr reincarnating.
Not a satyr - a faun, reminded a particularly infuriating voice.
I’m stronger than you. I am in control, combatted Athena.
Oh, how she despised Minerva. Truly, she envied every god who has a more cordial relationship with their Roman counterparts. She wondered what it was like to have no headaches. It was probably quite blissful.
She had lived too long with Minerva in her head.
Athena deliberately looked away from the painting, straight into Apollo’s piercing eyes.
“So. What do you want?” he asked directly.
“Apollo, have you noticed the rot that tarnishes Olympus?” Athena asked, dodging the question.
“And what does that have to do with me?” he replied.
“You know how. Apollo, you’ve always been so observant. Surely you realize how Zeus’s actions are contributing to our weakness. We haven’t even been voted ‘Most Prominent Pantheon’ in–”
Apollo scoffed, “Really, Athena? These old tricks? You know that I will not participate in your endeavors. Please, just leave me alone.”
“It is our civic duty to call out tyranny in order to improve Olympus,” Athena countered. She had full confidence of her argument’s efficiency - she had personally used it to recruit Apollo during the first revolution.
He sighed, “I just got punished. I don’t want that to happen again so soon. If you want to entertain this… idea, go ahead. But please leave me out of it.”
“Very well,” Athena said, hiding her inner disappointment. And she thought he changed…
She stepped out of the room, glad that she was away from that painting that triggered her migraines.
Dejected, she went back to her palace and deleted all her resources she used to find Apollo’s presence.
Nothing good came out of her visit. Athena mourned her wasted effort - all these days of endless tracking, and she was rewarded with a pounding headache!
Somewhere in her limitless mind, Minerva cackled