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[b][center][color=9400D3]a mother always knows[/color][/center][/b]
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[indent][sub][i][b]A [@Venus] & [@smarty0114] Collaboration
Featuring [color=9D3DD0]Themis[/color] & [color=8157b6]Hera[/color][/b][/i][/sub][/indent]
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[color=darkgray][indent][indent][b][i]Themis.[/i][/b]

To this day, the name filled Hera with envy. Zeus’ first counsellor, the Goddess of Divine Justice, who never seemed to see that it was Hera who deserved justice most of all. Now, her son was dead, and as far as she was aware, the Titan goddess hadn’t raised a finger. It disgusted her, the shirking of responsibility. If anyone should be concerned with the murder of a god-- a Grecian, at that-- it should be the Mistress of the Scales.

Night had fallen by the time Hera pulled up to Themis’ home, [url=https://www.zillow.com/homedetails/510-Lakeside-Ave-S-APT-6-Seattle-WA-98144/49081328_zpid/]a humble apartment in the suburbs of Seattle[/url]. It was hardly quaint to anyone except Hera, but the Queen of the Gods always found some way to look down on her fellow Olympians. Her face was steel, cold and unyielding as she stepped from her car and strutted up the stairs to rap her hand against the wooden door. Her visit was unannounced, but the possibility that no one would be home hadn’t crossed her mind. Hera was used to a world where people answered her demands and were available whenever she needed. She rarely had time to think about the needs of others.

After spending most of the day between the sheets of Themis’ bed and watching movies together, Thor had excused himself after getting an emergency work call from a client, leaving his girlfriend to her own devices. The man’s cheerful presence had been enough to ward off that dreadful nausea that always seemed to bother her these days, but in his absence it returned with a vengeance. Whatever plans that she had of going out for a walk or even going to the quaint little coffee shop nearby to catch up with her work email flew out the window. Instead, Themis found herself bedridden once again, with a bottle of ginger ale on her nightstand and a bucket at the ready next to her convalescent figure.

By the time evening rolled around, Themis had mustered just enough strength to eat an acceptable amount of dinner and get a shower. Dressed in a matching short nightgown and robe set of navy blue and white lace, the young goddess had been getting ready to retreat for the night when she heard a knock on her door. Frowning, she walked the short trek to the entryway and took a look through the peephole at who on Earth would possibly be dropping by at this time of day. And when she saw who it was, her disbelief was strong enough for the blonde to unlock the door and swing it open.

[b][color=9D3DD0]“Hera?”[/color][/b] Themis exclaimed with her hand still on the door handle, momentarily forgetting her illness in favor of the utter shock now coursing through her body. Out of all the gods and goddesses she would expect for a visit, Zeus’ wife was definitely at the bottom of the list. The Queen of the Gods had never held any positive feelings towards her, and it was obvious she and Themis were cordial with each other at most whenever forced to interact. Hera showing up at her doorstep-- and at this time of day, no less--  was certainly not the best of omens to start off her evening. [b][color=9D3DD0]“What are you doing at my house?”[/color][/b]

Hera’s gaze trailed up and down Themis’ body, taking in this new look for the lady of divine justice. There was something in the air… what was it? A scent she couldn’t quite place, a fleeting feeling that felt so familiar… She’d clearly caught her in the midst of her nighttime routine. Perfect. Catching people off guard was a specialty of Hera’s. [color=8157b6]“I’m here to discuss your shirking of responsibilities,”[/color] Hera said, cold as ever. [color=8157b6]“Should we talk out here, or will I be graced with the interior of your home as well?”[/color] Hera’s confidence (or arrogance, depending on who you asked) had returned in full force, spurred on by her mission for vengeance. It was clear that she would be having this discussion, whether Themis liked it or not.

The tone of voice Hera was taking with her made Themis raise a haughty, defiant eyebrow towards the older woman. It was one thing to show up at her house unannounced, but quite a different one to turn up making accusations of neglect.  It was rude, disrespectful and definitely [i]not[/i] the way to gain entrance to somebody’s home. But the way Hera was carrying herself spoke of a fierce determination of someone who wouldn’t vacate the premises until she was heard… In the end, did Themis [i]really[/i] have a choice?

Without uttering a single word, she swung the door open and stepped aside, motioning for her unwelcome guest to step inside. Once Hera had entered the apartment, the blonde closed the door, and turned to her visitor with her arms crossed in front of her chest. [b][color=9D3DD0]“So. To what do I owe the honor and great pleasure of being graced with your unannounced presence? And at my home in the evening, no less,”[/color][/b] Themis began, the sarcasm ringing clear in her voice. She took position in front of where Hera stood, squaring her shoulders and never once taking her eyes away from hers. She wasn’t afraid or the least bit intimidated by the woman like the rest of the Olympians were.

[color=8157b6]“I take it you’ve heard about my son,”[/color] Hera said. She cast her eyes down for just a moment at the mention of Hephaestus, a rare flash of weakness, gone as quickly as it had come. [color=8157b6]“I’m sure the mortals are throwing everything they can at it, given his celebrity status, but it would bring me peace of mind to know I had someone on the inside.”[/color] Still, that feeling was following her, a tugging in her gut. Could she… No... Her senses were just on the fritz, still reeling from her time under Hathor’s trance. That had to be it.

Well [i]that[/i] made Themis feel like shit. Where was that patience and sympathy she normally had for the loved ones of homicide victims? Here was the queen of the gods: swallowing her pride to seek her assistance with one of the most horrific events a mother could ever face; a collateral victim of her son’s murder. And what had Themis done? Get defensive and jump to conclusions when Hera, Zeus and the rest of their children deserved truth and justice as much as the departed did. Shame on her.

With her demeanor now humbled and much more approachable, Themis took a seat on the beige sofa in the living room and gestured for her guest to occupy the chair directly in front of her if she so wished. [b][color=9D3DD0]“I’m aware of the situation… And let me take this moment to say I am so, so sorry for your loss. I can’t even fathom the amount of pain and heartbreak you must be feeling at this time,”[/color][/b] the blonde said gently with a solemn expression. She was and had never been a mother, but could only imagine the suffering Hera must be going through. [b][color=9D3DD0]“Before we get to discussing the case any further, can I get you anything to eat or drink for your troubles?”[/color][/b]

Hera nodded, solemn in her grief. [color=8157b6]“I appreciate it,”[/color] Hera said, her tone still cool despite Themis’ moment of warmth. In truth, the words meant more than she could say. So many had brushed her pain aside, it was comforting to have someone who sympathized. [color=8157b6]“A glass of wine?”[/color] Hera suggested, exhaustion lacing her words with a sense of exasperation. She was spiralling, no matter how gilded she made herself seem.

[b][color=9D3DD0]"Sure!”[/color][/b] Themis replied in a significantly brighter tone, rising from the couch and gracefully making her way to the cozy kitchen to fetch some refreshments for her guest. She pulled out two glasses of wine and a small wooden cheese board from one of the cabinets before moving towards the wine cooler and addressing Hera again. [b][color=9D3DD0]"Is there any particular flavor you prefer?”[/color][/b] the blonde asked, pausing to smile at one of the many polaroids of her and Thor that decorated the refrigerator door before peering inside the cooler. [b][color=9D3DD0]"I’ve got most of them here, actually: sauvignon, moscato, pinot noir, cabernet, merlot… Pick your poison.”[/color][/b]

[color=8157b6]“Sauvignon,”[/color] Hera said, following Themis into the kitchen. Her voice trailed off as her attention fell on the polaroids hanging off the fridge. Themis and a man, smiling, arms wrapped around each other in a loving embrace. Suddenly, the gears, rusted still with pain and mourning, began turning again. The tugging in her gut, the feeling in the air. How could she have been so blind? Had grief addled her [i]that[/i] much?

Without warning, Hera spun Themis around, and brought a hand down to hover, just above her stomach. Her eyes closed, and she reached out, extending the tendrils of her immortal soul outwards until she found what she was looking for; the beginnings of a new life. [i]Two[/i], in fact. Hera’s eyes shot open, lips pursed together in curiosity. [color=8157b6]“You’re pregnant,”[/color] she said, the softest she’d ever been with the mistress of justice. 

Themis, who had been in the process of uncorking the sauvignon bottle per Hera’s request, flinched in startelement when she felt the older woman spin her around. Eyes wide with alarm, she watched as her guest placed her hand a few inches from her stomach and shut her eyes, as if focusing all of her attention. She’d been ready to politely pull away and dismiss Hera as having gone insane with grief when the woman opened her eyes again and dropped a bombshell so unexpected all Themis could do was giggle in disbelief.

[b][color=9D3DD0]"What? No!"[/color][/b] she answered without hesitation, shaking her head with a smile and quickly dismissing Hera’s reading. [b][color=9D3DD0]"I mean, sure: I've been a little bit sick for some time now, but that doesn’t necessarily mean I’m pregnant… Right?”[/color][/b] she asked her, doubt starting to creep in and casting a shadow over her face. [i]Was[/i] she really pregnant? Was that why she’d been so sick all the time lately. No, it couldn’t be. [b][color=9D3DD0]“It’s probably undiagnosed lactose intolerance or something. Maybe the milk and creamer I put in my coffee’s messing with me.”[/color][/b]

Hera shook her head, stone faced and confident in her read. Now that she’d pinned down what she was sensing, she couldn’t believe she’d been so foolish. [color=8157b6]“Themis, a mother always knows.”[/color] She reached out again, once more connecting to the lives that were just forming, two possibilities awash in the sea of fate. [color=8157b6]“Twins but… only half-siblings. Their fathers are different,”[/color] Hera said, fixing Themis with a stare that held it’s fair share of judgement.

If Hera’s soft demeanor and the possibility of being pregnant wasn’t enough of a shock for the blonde goddess, the news that the growing [i]children, plural,[/i] inside of her had been fathered by different men left her at a loss for words. Themis was quiet for a long moment, eyes wide as she tried to process all of this information at once.  And when she was finally able to formulate words again, her voice was hoarse with distress.

[b][color=9D3DD0]“If the fathers are different, that means one child is Thor’s, and the other one is--”[/color][/b] she trailed off, feeling her eyes slowly fill up with tears while her bottom lip dangerously trembled. There was only one other person who could have donated his part of the DNA to make that second child... And that man just happened to be her boyfriend’s father. [b][color=9D3DD0]“Odin's.”[/color][/b]

[i]Fuck[/i]...


All of a sudden, an overwhelming wave of dizziness suddenly overtook her. Themis’ knees felt weak, her legs seemingly unable to carry both the weight of her body and the one who now rested on her shoulders. The world around her began to spin, morphing together into indiscernible shapes. She reached out and grabbed the countertop to steady herself, but the smooth surface slipped under her touch. The last thing she remembered was the sound of Hera's voice asking if she was okay before her eyelids fluttered closed as she began to fall.

Hera moved with a surprising grace and agility, hands closing behind Themis back, catching her before she could crash against the tile floor. Gently, like she was handling one of her own children, she led Themis to the couch, and left her sitting there, only to return with a glass of water. 

The tables had been flipped. She’d come here for Themis’ help, only to find that it was Themis who needed her aid. She pursed her lips, carefully choosing her new path. She took an armchair across from the couch, resting her arms on the sides as if it were a throne. [color=8157b6]“It seems we both have reason to help each other now...”[/color] she said, her voice soft, but certain, purposeful. 

The voice of a queen.[/indent][/indent][/color]