Hebe

Many people think my father did not love my mother, or that my mother did not love my father. This is not so. Indeed, they loved each other with a passion; but it manifested in different ways. Mother's possessive desires drove her into jealous rages; Father's love was large enough for the whole world, and why should it not be so? He was its king, after all.

But Mother was queen, and as Father dallied with women divine and mortal alike, she burned with a hatred of his lovers as fierce as her love for him. The hatred that drove her has caused many to fear. A goddess' wrath is never to be taken lightly. I should know.

My brothers you know; Ares with his shining shield and helm, his sword and spear sharpened to deliver the gods' justice as he rides to the wars. Hephaestos, cruelly twisted and misshapen, broken by a fall from Olympus when Mother cast him down in a fit of temper. Yet he was her favourite son for all of that; and he never begrudged her cruelty. He knew her better than any other, and would forge jewels and bracelets and necklaces, beautifying her throat and wrists with all his works. He forged for brother Ares, too, and for many of our half-siblings and other relations. Some say Mother bore my twisted brother without Father's help, but who can say? Not I; I was only a child.

But my sister was Ilithyia, goddess of childbirth and labour pains, and she was Mother's daughter to the core. She supported Mother in her roles, and what was I? I had to work to find my place, for so much had already been parceled out to my myriad relations. It does not do to be born when all the duties have been given out.

Apollo and Artemis, my half-siblings, the glorious twins, made a pet of me and it was Artemis who finally said, "Father, our little one must have a duty. She is young, but she is not useless, and you do not ignore your other children by our step-mother. Why neglect your youngest?"

I was mayhap three or four, but I remember those words, and how Father smiled on Artemis, a woman grown yet still a maiden, who spoke them.

"For you, my silver princess, anything," he said and kissed her brow. He lifted me onto his knee and looked seriously into my eyes. "And you, little one? What do you want?" he asked. My mind spun as I thought of the fact that I could ask him for anything, anything and he would give it to me.

"I want..." I chewed my lip anxiously. "I want to be good," I said finally. "I want to help. I want Mother to like me as much as she likes Ilithyia." Father frowned a little as I spoke my last, but he nodded, thinking it over.

"Do you remember Aphrodite?" he asked, and I nodded, for I often saw the new goddess fluttering her eyes at my warlike brother - and my poor twisted brother making the same eyes at her.

"Yes Father, I remember Aphrodite." She would come between my brothers, in time.

"Your mother likes Aphrodite very much, and she wants Aphrodite to be happy. I think Aphrodite could use a new friend, someone to help her and make her feel at home. Olympus is a big place, when you are new." Father looked at me seriously, and I nodded. Olympus was a big place.

"I can help. I will be good, Father."

"Very well, then," Father said, giving me a kiss of benediction. "Be Aphrodite's helpmate and as you grow we shall see what other duties you are suited for, Hebe." The sound of my name on Father's lips was sweet, and I nodded, wanting to please him. Jumping up, I ran to find Aphrodite, still a bit lost, clad only in her seafoam gown. I looked at it critically. Aunt Amphitrite probably gave it to her.

Aunt Amphitrite didn't know much about Olympian fashion.

Luckily, Mother had sent some nymphs to take Aphrodite's measure, and fit her in a better gown. I held Aphrodite's hand while the fitting was going on - nymphs could be scary at the best of times - and when it was over and Aphrodite had better fitting clothing, I looked at her in awe. "You are beautiful."

"More beautiful than your mother?"

I paused. "Well...um..." That was a dangerous question, so I shrugged and offered myself to her service, suitably distracting her. From then on, I was Aphrodite's companion, and later, the goddesses' cup-bearer. I, Hebe, had my purpose.