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cerseimikaelson · 6 months ago

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Episode Five: Sound of Music [AO3]

[A/N: "Christmas market" was the prompt chosen by the poll I made for Episode 5, so I hope you enjoy and thank you to everyone who voted!]

They say to never bet something you aren't absolutely certain you are willing to lose.

In Athena's case, time.

One might argue it was an easy decision all around, given that she, as an immortal being, had an infinite amount of time to spare. Truthfully, that was her reasoning when she made that blasted bet.

The greatest irony of all was that she thought herself so crafty, too. She had finally found a way to get Viola to read those books on battle strategy that had been collecting dust on the girl's nightstand for about a month.

"If you finish them and write a report by the end of the week, I'll take you to the Olympian Christmas market that opened this week."

Viola's eyes had lit up, and Athena had walked away fully confident that her daughter, who couldn't sit still for five minutes at the time and hated "the stuffy, yellow tomes you force upon me, Feathers" would never fulfill her side of the bargain. This little wager was ingenious.

Athena made her first error in judgement since that travesty with Napoleon and Waterloo.

Viola aced Athena's quiz on the material. She provided keen, insightful and intelligent remarks that Athena wanted to be mad about but at the same time she just... couldn't. After all, it would be absurd to be mad at the girl for doing what was asked of her, right?

Viola, for her part, observed her dilemma with thinly-veiled amusement.

"Your expression is so I-just-ate-a-lemon-thinking-it-was-an-orange." she said, practically oozing smugness. "So, my dear Feathers, I believe I am owed a Christmas venture."

And so Athena found herself trying to navigate the hustle and bustle of the market, grey eyes watering at the sheer amount of lights that shone like beacons from seemingly every direction. The scent of mulled wine and baked sausages and fresh honeyed pastries on sticks (Athena had honestly no idea what they were called) assaulted her senses.

Viola, of course, was in her element, beaming as she nearly dislocated her neck trying to take everything in at once. Her ability to fully immerse herself in the joys of the mundane never ceased to inspire a substantial amount of awe in Athena.

Not that she'd ever tell her that. The girl didn't need any more ammunition to cause mischief wherever she went.

"Oh, what should we do first?" Viola was literally bouncing off the balls of her feet, and she hadn't even had coffee yet.

Not good.

"Ornaments? Pastries? Wine?" Viola wriggled her eyebrows suggestively.

Athena raised hers.

"If you honestly think I am going to allow you to consume alcohol, then you and I must reacquaint ourselves. You're seventeen. The other day you talked my ear off about the Olaf marshmallows in your hot chocolate."

Yes, Athena knew who Olaf was now. The Disney Jar had striked again.

"Don't rain on my parade, Feathers." Viola pouted, but obediently led them both to a booth where a kindly-looking satyr with holly hanging from his horns was selling steaming cocoa in paper cups.

“Hi, Peter. We’ll take two, please.” Viola greeted.

“Ah, I was wondering what was taking you so long.” the satyr (Peter, apparently) said pleasantly. “Here I was thinking you decided to skip your chocolate fix today.”

“Peter, seriously, the day I fail to show up for my chocolate fix is the day you report me missing.” Viola deadpanned. “I just had to get this one out of the house and it took me a while.”

Peter just then noticed Athena for the very first time. Eyes widening to the size of saucers, he nearly leaped out of his skin, almost scalding himself with the hot drinks he was pouring in process.

“My Lady Athena!” he let out a nervous bleat that resembled a panicked goat. “My sincerest apologies, I didn’t see you. I mean- not that you’re easy to miss. No, that sounded wrong. I was just-“

“Getting some cocoa?” Athena cleared her throat a little, reminding him of the task at hand.

“Yes, yes, of course.”

Viola waited until they had left the flustered satyr behind to bite back a snort of amusement.

“You really should get out more, Feathers. It’s kind of alarming that people are this fazed to be seeing your face in public outside of a temple or a library.”

Athena opened her mouth to tell her this was deliberate, but she couldn’t help but notice the hushed whispers and hastily-diverted stares aimed at the two of them as they walked by. It was in moments like these that the goddess was keenly aware of just how much her daughter resembled her. Browsing through the Christmas market side by side was a domestic activity she wouldn’t have engaged in for anyone else, and it was sure to fuel the gossip mill for the weeks to come.

“You’re rather popular.” Athena noted as a trio of dryads bundled up in fuzzy white mittens waved cheerfully at Viola. They vanished in an instant when they saw Athena’s eyes on them, though, as if terrified she’d turn them to stone.

“Those are the nail techs at the beauty lab.” Viola supplied. “Sweetest girls in the world, honestly. They’d get along with my Faerie friends like a house on fire. All it would take is one ten-minute conversation about this season’s fashion. Who said clothes don’t bring people together?”

Athena was so caught off guard that Viola openly talked about her Fae connections (a Topic she never even skirted around) that she almost missed the arrival of a god.

“Well, well, well.” Poseidon greeted, sea green eyes twinkling with suppressed mirth as he took mother and daughter in. “Can’t say I expected to run into you guys today.”

“Feathers drives a hard bargain, but I won.” Viola supplied without a hint of discretion.

Athena choked a little.

“Good for you, baby owl.” Poseidon grinned far too jovially. He was holding a half finished stick of blue cotton candy. That probably had something to do with his unusually cheerful demeanor.

“Are you on a sugar high?” Athena demanded incredulously.

“It’s Christmas, Athena! What makes the most wonderful time of the year, well, wonderful, if not a little indulgence?” the sea god argued. “Besides, I’ll eat anything blue.”

Athena and Viola’s responses just about summed up their entire personalities.

“Artificial food coloring is so unhealthy.”

“Moldy cheese included? That’s blue too, isn’t it?”

They glanced at each other with identical unreadable expressions for several moments before turning back to Poseidon as though nothing happened.

“So, who are you here with?”

As if on cue, three more of the Eldest Six (as the first generation of Olympians was largely known as) showed up through the throngs of market visitors.

“Sibling bonding exercise. I stan.” Viola said as she enthusiastically waved at Hades, Hera and Zeus.

Athena, remembering her manners and having been blessed with all of the decorum her daughter hadn’t inherited, chose a much more subdued and appropriate greeting.

“Father.” she inclined her head in Zeus’ direction. “My Queen, Lord Hades. I trust you’re enjoying the festivities.”

“Why are people walking around with those large canes? The percentage of people with visual impairments shouldn’t have grown so exponentially. Besides, what’s the purpose of those canes if they are being waved around instead of touching the ground?” Hades grumbled with his hands stuffed in the pockets of his thick, black trench coat to stave off the cold.

All his question earned him was five vacant looks. Hades left the Underworld about as often as Athena left her study, but at least Athena had her siblings (and now Viola) to keep her in the loop. Hades, on the other hand, if Persephone didn’t correct him was liable to show up to a meeting in a velvet waistcoat, complete with a pocket watch and monogrammed handkerchief. As a result, following his train of thought occasionally posed a challenge.

After a minute, Viola snapped her fingers.

“Oh, I got it!” she exclaimed. “Selfie sticks.”

“Ah.” the other four gave a collective sigh.

“Sticks for one’s self?” Hades asked, totally confused. “For what purpose? Is it another cosplay thing, like those kids with the scars on their forehead and the oversized glasses?”

“Who have you been talking to?” Zeus shot his brother an incredulous look as they resumed walking at a leisurely pace, Poseidon taking Hades aside to explain what a selfie stick was and how it was, in fact, completely different from a cane used by the blind.

The sight of Viola’s favorite coffee shop logo on one of the booths, Cookies and Cream, Coffee and Steam (widely known as the Four Cs because apparently the all-powerful immortals hadn’t bothered with spelling lessons) sparked an idea.

A brilliant, absolutely thrilling, never-been-done-before-but-totally-should idea.

Having made sure Hera’s attention was captured by an array of beautiful, handcrafted ornaments a couple of booths over, Viola whipped around and honest to gods smacked Zeus on the shoulder.

“What?” the King yelped as he turned on his heel with wide eyes.

Athena, Poseidon and Hades stopped whatever they were doing (the former admiring the enchanted icicles hanging off a nearby building and the other two arguing over the health hazard that was walking without watching where you were going while holding a giant stick above your head) to stare at them.

“Go over there and buy a toffee hazelnut latte.” Viola said simply as though she hadn’t just issued a command to the King of the Gods.

Athena’s jaw dropped open, but no sooner than she could so much as breathe a word of apology, or ask the demon child what in the Underworld she thought she was doing, did the words register.

Apparently Zeus found himself in a similar predicament, because he didn’t immediately bring out his master bolt to fry them all to a crisp (taking the entire market out with them for good measure).

“A what?”

“Hera’s favorite coffee.” Viola explained impatiently, looking around to make sure the goddess in question was still out of earshot.

Zeus honestly didn’t seem to know what he was expected to do with the information so unceremoniously smacked into him (literally!).

Athena could painfully relate.

“Why?” he asked, briefly glancing at his brothers as though willing one of them to step forward and explain this concept to him, pretty much like they had just done for Hades and the selfie sticks.

Athena would take the selfie sticks.

Viola’s eyes narrowed into slits in a distinctively Athena-ish manner that the goddess felt a spike of alarm to see mirrored on another’s face. Was that really the effect her own death stare had on people?

“Because she’s your wife and it’s Christmas and it’s freezing and she will love it.” Viola listed as though explaining why the sky was blue to a kindergartner. “And if you are so disinclined, I will just ask Hades to buy it for her.”

Zeus’ eyes widened, while Hades perked up at the mention of his name.

“Oh, I would be delighted to be of service.” the god of the Underworld said in a falsely sweet tone.

“No one is asking you for anything, Hades.” Athena interjected before her father could lose his temper, shooting the dark god a pointed look.

Unbelievably, it seemed to be the only incentive Zeus needed. Glaring daggers at his brother, he pretty much sprinted towards the booth, his large strides carrying him over easily.

“Men.” Viola scoffed under her breath. “Jealous heathens, the lot of them.”

“I have no idea what just happened, but I am going to treasure it forever.” Poseidon looked like Christmas had come two weeks early and his present was his little brother getting bossed around by a moody teenager. “He fell for it, hook, line and sinker! Please do that again!”

“Don’t ever do that again.” Athena emphasized loudly to cover his voice. “It’s a downright miracle he didn’t blast you to bits!”

“Tis the season.” Viola batted her eyelashes, unrepentant as they come, and Athena suppressed a groan. She had walked in on that one.

“Viola, whatever you’re thinking of doing, don’t.” she pinched the bridge of her nose, feeling a migraine coming in.

“You can’t tell me those two can’t use a gentle nudge in the right direction!” Viola protested.

“You call this,” Athena pointed at Zeus, who was returning with a reindeer patterned coffee cup in hand, “a gentle nudge? You just pushed them off a cliff with no parachute!”

Whatever Viola was about to say never made it out of her mouth, because in that moment Hera also rejoined their group, lotus blue eyes already searching for her husband.

“Is everything alright?” she asked.

“Great.” the five of them responded at once, causing the queen to do a double take.

“What did you get?”

“Um, it’s for you. Toffee hazelnut.” Zeus answered, wearing the look of a person that was ambushed by somebody he thought was an ally.

Hera blinked in surprise.

“You got me coffee?”

“I did.”

“And not just any type of coffee, but my favorite?”

“I know your favorite coffee!” Zeus responded with way too much outrage for a person that had discovered this information all of two minutes ago, in Viola’s humble opinion.

Not that it mattered. Allowing him to take the credit was kind of the point of this little operation.

Hera glanced at the cup for a second as though expecting it to sprout antlers like the dancing reindeer.

“Oh. Well, thank you. That’s very thoughtful of you.” she said, apparently trying to fit this tragically unprecedented incident into some existing category in her head. As Hera reached out to grasp the cup, her fingers brushed against Zeus’ (neither of them were wearing gloves) and Athena was astonished to see a faint brush gracing both the King and Queen’s cheeks.

She could feel Viola by her side practically vibrating with barely suppressed elation and just about lost her mind there and then.

There was no way this had actually worked. It defied all manner of reason. And yet there was no other plausible explanation for the fact the two rulers of Olympus were standing there shuffling their feet like love-struck, awkward teenagers instead of collected adults that had been married for thousands of years.

“Well, then, this has been fun, but we still have so much to do! Places to be, people to see and all that.” Viola broke the silence theatrically, ignoring Poseidon and Hades who were doing a spectacularly poor job at hiding their grins behind their palms. “See you later!”

And once again before Athena could even think to protest, her daughter had looped her elbow through hers, leaving the others behind until they disappeared in the bustling crowd.

“I still can’t believe you did that.” Athena grumbled a good three hours later, after they had been to seemingly every activity in the market, with the exception of the gigantic ice rink that the wisdom goddess didn’t even consider trying out.

She was already well aware that with her feet on anything other than solid ground, she had all the grace of newborn Bambi learning to walk (Disney Jar… don’t question it… just don’t).

The last thing she needed was broadcasting her utter lack of skill to the rest of the pantheon by hanging off the railing for dear immortality.

Viola had only relented after Athena had agreed to take her to listen to the choir of carolers at the main square, underneath the holographic angel ornaments whose gold and blue lights glittered like a canopy of shooting stars.

“No, you can’t believe you can’t say I told you so because my plan worked.” Viola retorted, not even looking at her. Her grey eyes were fixated on the empty platform with an almost hungry intensity.

“And what was your plan exactly? Test out my endurance by giving me a heart attack?” Athena wanted to know.

“I am going to get the big guy to show his wife the attention she deserves. Hera is a catch and deserves more appreciation from all of us, especially Zeus. She’s the one handling all the meetings with the Fae ambassador, you know. If it weren’t for her cunning Rochus Cerfas would have sold Olympus for scrap metal.”

There was so much to unpack in that absurd statement that Athena found herself momentarily lost. But before she could dissuade her daughter from whatever scheme she had concocted today, or persuade her that meddling with anyone’s marriage, let alone the one of the King and Queen of the Gods was obscenely stupid, the lights dimmed and Viola clutched her shoulder in an almost painful grip.

“Shush! It’s starting!”

Take a look at the goddess of wisdom getting shushed by a teenager.

Athena was seriously beginning to question the fabric of reality. Having a kid was an one-way ticket to an existential crisis.

The first notes of It’s Beginning to Look a Lot Like Christmas began to ring across the packed square, the tune stirring something familiar and soothing, like your favorite threadbare blanket or watching the first snowflakes land.

Despite the lack of any surprise that came with hearing songs that had been sung a million times before, Athena found herself strangely comforted by the classics. The feeling of a warm body tucked next to her also contributed to it. She usually had no one to enjoy this part with every year. All the other gods were either paired off, had children already, or just went with their friends. Even Artemis got dragged out to buy a trinket or two by Apollo every year, usually silver and deer-shaped. Athena, as a technical only child and a maiden goddess, was used to her outings being strictly solitary.

But this year she had Viola, with her unique brand of chaos and frankly hilarious commentary. Viola, who considered snowman shaped marshmallows the highlight of her day. Viola, who didn’t let Athena skip out on this moment in favor of sticking to her usual routine, no matter how tried and trusted.

It took a while before Athena recognized the feeling blossoming in her chest, deep inside, as gratitude.

She turned around, not sure what sentimentality was about to barrel out of her lips and embarrass her, but just then the last verse of White Christmas echoed through the speakers.

"And may all your Christmases be white..." the baritone singer concluded, drawing out the final note. A beat of silence, and then the amassed crowd clapped and cheered.

Athena would have thought Viola would be the loudest of them all, given her previous reactions to Let it Snow and All I Want for Christmas, so it was the silence that snapped her out of her thoughts.

What she saw stunned her. Perhaps even more so than any stunt the girl had ever pulled, no matter how daring.

Viola, whom Athena had never, ever seen cry, who had been yelled at by Zeus in front of the entire Council, who had raged over the injustice of being sent to Olympus from the Faerie realm without being asked, who had even shouted at Athena's face it wasn't at all curious nobody could stand the goddess, had tears running down her cheeks.

And it must have been the holiday madness getting to her, because Athena felt her heart lurch at the sight, something tight and uncomfortable, like Viola crying was a personal offence, something wrong she had to rectify.

"Why are you crying?" It came out half panicked and half accusatory, as if Athena couldn't really decide between the two moods.

"My eyes are just wet, Feathers." Viola hastily wiped them.

"Does your stomach hurt? I told you hot chocolate isn't meant to be guzzled down like that, but no, who ever listens to-"

"My stomach is fine, Athena." Viola cut her off with a hint of her trademark impatience. "I just... really loved that song. I'd only ever heard carols like, once or twice before, and it was usually a drunken retention. Off-key, the lyrics all messed up. I am just glad I got to hear the real thing. It was a dream come true."

Athena blinked, trying to process this. Each word Viola said sparked about five follow-up questions. She sorted through them in record time, promptly realizing the blank space in the center couldn't be filled with assumptions.

Whatever she was missing, it was the size of Santa’s sack of presents.

"I am afraid you've lost me." Athena admitted honestly. "Are carolers and choirs not common in Faerie? Didn't you ever hear them for Christmas?"

Viola's eyes widened before realization sank and her shoulders tightened.

"Oh. I thought you knew..." she mused.

"Evidently I don't."

"Feathers, there's no Christmas in Faerie."

Athena stared. This was the first she had ever heard of this and it simply didn't make sense.

"Are there religious concerns or something?" she asked, completely floored. From what she knew of the Fair Folk, they were as famed for their revels as the Olympians. That they would entirely miss out on a whole month of festive activities was bewildering at best.

"The Faerie realm only knows one season, Athena. Eternal spring. It's called the land of blooms for a reason. Haven't you heard the tales? The faeries of old luring unsuspecting wanderers deep into the woods, to lay on the softest grass and drink the clearest water and smell the sweetest flowers?"

"Of course I have." Athena persisted, mind racing. "But I didn't think it was quite so literal."

"Well, it is. All true, in most respects anyway. Faerie knows not the bite of frost nor the heat of summer nor the tart kiss of autumn, as the poets say." Viola rolled her shoulders like there was nothing unusual about the conversation. Athena would have believed it had her eyes not looked so fathomless. "It's a land where things always grow. That's why they are so powerful, you know. There's no shortage of things to trade with the other realms, and even if attacked or under siege, their people will never have to ration their food. Strategically speaking, it's a huge advantage."

The key points in this analysis honestly shocked Athena more than anything else that day.

"I can't believe I didn't know that. Nothing I've ever read about the Fae mentioned such a thing."

She had known of course that the Fae were formidable allies and deadly enemies to have. Hell, it was the entire reason she had worked so hard to secure their support. But she never could have imagined she had missed something so essential about the people she was trying to get to her side.

"It's not like you could have visited. The Fae love their secrets. They are isolated and don't trust strangers.” Viola bit her lower lip, contemplating the next words carefully before saying them out loud. “Honestly, the fostering programs are probably a good thing. Even getting them to agree is an accomplishment. Hopefully in time they'll accept enough people to open the crossings. Then you can sign a new treaty."

To be hearing this from the very child Athena sent away as a toddler, all because of said program's existence, honestly was mind-numbing.

It wasn't often that Athena genuinely didn't know how to respond to something.

"You... you're being very nonchalant about this." she finally found her voice.

"I thought about it a lot." Viola said. "I was pissed as hell in the beginning. I mean, don't get me wrong, I still think there's a lot of stuff that could have gone down better. But on the other hand this is the mythological world. When was anything ever simple? Not to mention, everyone who fought in the Wars would have been really fucking proud to see where we are now. So many generations grew up hating the other pantheons, full of bigotry and taboos. To them, exchange programs and foster families and field trips were on the same league as Star Wars. To us, it's our reality. I am proud of what has been achieved. And I want to contribute in that too. Even if it means sacrificing things along the way."

A new feeling reared its head, outshining all others, and this one Athena knew very well.

Pride.

It usually followed a tiring but productive training session, a well-fought battle, a victory rally, an honorary feast. But out of all those times, which were beyond measure considering how long Athena had already been alive for and how long she had yet to live, this was probably one of the few that the feeling was directed at someone other than herself.

Wholly. Completely. Every drop of it.

All for her. Inspired by her.

The sarcastic, meddlesome, precocious, daredevil, stubborn demigoddess.

Viola. Her daughter.

Who was now staring at her with undisguised trepidation, waiting for Athena to respond. Because that was the expected course of action during a conversation after one party had finished talking.

Athena may not have been in a position to verbalize everything that was happening in her head, (it would take several long nights of reflection for that, with strong tea and an unexpected ally in Aphrodite, the love goddess’ facade giving way to a softer, gentler side that only revealed itself for Ares and her own kids) but something told her Viola understood anyway.

Her baby owl was ridiculously perceptive, after all.

“Come along, then. Your spiel earlier has me curious about the merits of ice skating. Just kindly make a solid effort not to break your skull on the ice.”

See you next Tuesday for Episode 6!

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