Rhea sat calmly within a colossal grove of trees. Her eyes staring off into the distance while her lions lay by her side.
Her expressions neutral as her gaze remained locked upon a distant sight leagues away.
These ancient oaks that she planted with her own two hands in times long past were her only sanctuary in this world felt increasingly hostile to her as the days went by.
Their ancient whispers and prophecies her only soothing companion in these turbulent times. Even if said prophecies were no longer all that accurate.
Her gaze remained upon the peak of Mount Pelion, silently watching the infant stuck beneath the great Linden Tree that used to be the child's mother. His mind and body frozen in time until his father deemed it time to set the newborn free.
Truly, the fate of this child was so tragic, probably on par with her own children to some extent.
Abandoned by his father who had no interest in him, so much so that he did not even name the child and only deigned to freeze him in time so that he would not be a threat to his throne.
Abandoned by his mother who held such disgust for his half-man, half-horse appearance that she voluntarily chose to turn into a tree to escape from such a reality.
Truly, such a pitiful boy, this Chiron.
If she had the choice, Rhea would have long since broken the child out of his imprisonment and taken him in as her own. After all, she did share the bond of marriage with Cronos, which meant that, to some extent, she could negate his manipulation of time.
Unfortunately, she could not do that just yet, especially when her plan was so close to fruition.
For the great mother, it was a tiring event. To pretend that she still cared about the oath of marriage between herself and her husband and pretend to try and catch him in the act of infidelity.
An act that she had to keep so that her last son could continue growing in secret, away from the eyes and ears of that monster.
By Tartarus, she truly felt repulsed when she forced herself to act as if she still held some feelings for her husband and lay with him, if only so that her last son, her beloved Zeus, would be born and help free the rest of his siblings from his monstrous father, just like Rhea's mother and father told her he would.
Yet, she knew that her true feelings needed to be suppressed for the moment, lest the king catch onto her indifference and realize that something was wrong.
According to her mother and the three Moirai, the king must not suspect a thing until he is at his most complacent lest everything fall apart.
So, she still had to continue acting. Continue being the Queen of Titans. Continue acting as if the loss of all her children at the hands of that monster did not affect her feelings in the slightest.
Such a ridiculous notion for a Titan who embodies the very concept of motherhood.
With a sigh, she withdrew her gaze from the mountain top and leaned back into her stone throne, absentmindedly drinking from her chalice full of Nectar.
Yet, that very act once again sent anguish rushing across her heart as she remembered how much her son, Brolios, loved eating. How her eldest daughter, Hestia, felt delighted in the taste of the drink. How Demeter liked the taste of Ambrosia.
Her precious children, all taken from her before they were even given the chance to know what wonders the world held. With the ones who remained the longest by her side being her beloved Brolios and Hestia who remained by her side for a few months. Demeter was the next closest one, who remained by her side for nearly a month. Everyone after that, she lost them in mere minutes at best, or a few seconds at worst. Even her last son, who she had to abandon the moment he was born on Crete and return to Othrys lest the king realize that something was wrong.
Ten years. Ten long years since Zeus was born. A decade since she hid him on Crete with Adrastia and Ida, and the Curetes so that he would grow up away from the influence of his father.
Ten long years of longing where she had to stop herself from running off to see her son.
As she lost herself in her memories and thoughts, the waters in her grove swelled and an Oceanid emerged from within.
Rhea did not even turn her gaze away from the cloudy sky as she addressed the familiar Oceanid. One that even the power that her beloved niece now claims control over could hide as the mother was far too familiar with the Oceanid's very essence.
"Okyrhoëssa. It must be urgent if you have come personally instead of sending a simple message."
Okyrhoëssa. The Oceanid that resided in the waters around Crete and served as the messenger between the Titaness and the island bowed to the Mother.
"My Queen. I bring you urgent news."
"Hm. Then, Let your voice be heard by only those whose ears it belongs in."
A simple, ancient method belonging to Mother Earth herself. The most primal application of the primordial force that divides the 'mortal' and the 'immortal'.
A force that her niece, Hecate, has now dubbed 'The Mist'. A name that Rhea herself had suggested in days long past when she was discussing the nature of this veil with her niece.
With its power, even Rhea's husband cannot overhear what they were to discuss.
Okyrhoëssa continued bowing and spoke words that shook the Mother to her core.
"Lord Zeus is ready. He has taken Lady Metis with him to gather what is necessary and plans to trick his father in a month's time, just like you planned."
Rhea's body shuddered at those words as a mix of emotions dominated her mind.
However, soon enough, a grim determination flared within her as she nodded.
"Good. Let him prepare. Tell me when he is prepared to make his move. I will find a way to have the King relaxed enough that he does not suspect anything."
"Yes, My Queen."
The Oceanid disappeared back into the waters and travelled through it back to Crete, using channels and underground passages that only those born of the waters would know.
Rhea sighed heavily as the power of prophesies in her beloved grove once again flooded her mind, showing her various versions of the future that are yet to come. An amusing sight for the Titaness for she knew that the future was always a singular line before her beloved Brolios was 'born', unlike the branches of a great tree as it is now.
'It is ironic, is it not? My dear husband? You will now meet your fate on the very road you've taken to avoid it.'
With that amusing thought, the Mother closed her eyes and reminisced, letting herself be lost in the fantasy of what was to come. Of the reunion that she was both dreading and awaiting in equal measure.
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