Seeds (8 page)

o0o

     The snow fell outside, but all of the houses in Enna were warm and comfortable. Demeter did not tell her lover what had happened, nor would she ever. How did one admit to their lover that their sibling had seduced them in their guise?

     To keep themselves amused, Demeter would tell Iasion stories, or sometimes his family and other villagers, disguised as Thermasia. Though she was not open about who she was, the villagers still suspected her identity and respected her. Sometimes she might even bounce Ptheia's son, Phemos, on her knee or spin wool with her sister-in-law, who was a lot happier and more pleasant since the land became generous. She would cook with Eurycleia or weave with her, enjoying the domesticity of her life.

     But as the days became shorter, Demeter felt something stir within her. It was completely foreign to her, this stirring of life in a place she had never felt before. She had never had a serious lover, or any children, and after half a year with Iasion and her womb remaining empty, she had resigned herself to the fact that perhaps her power to give and encourage life probably came at the price of her own fertility. But as she lay there in the warm cottage with the snow blowing around it in gentle flurries, under the blankets with Iasion snuggling her as she slept, feeling the seed that had taken root within her, she became aware of the fact that she was with child.

Chapter IV

o0o

     It was not until late winter that Iasion noticed the swell of his lover's belly. Demeter's figure had always been full, but he certainly was surprised one night when he slid his arm around her and felt the rise of her stomach. For several seasons they had been lovers, and he had been hoping for a child. What a wonderful thing it would be to have a goddess be the mother of his child! He didn't even care if it might be a boy or a girl, and he felt his heart beat rapidly in elation.

     “Demeter!” he exclaimed softly. Said goddess regarded him with a faint smile as she studied his jubilant expression.

     After she realized she was with child, she had made herself a vow. The child would be Iasion's despite its paternity, whatever that may be. He had talked about how happy he was for his brother and his child, and he was fond of his little nephew.

     “The Fates have blessed me many times in the last year. I almost feel unworthy of your attention and love,” he murmured, burying his face against her shoulder. She let out a quiet sigh and held him close.

     “Do not say that. You have earned my love many times over. I am happy here. Never fear.”

     “When is the child due?”

     “Around the summer solstice,” she replied quietly. His face brightened.

     “What a lovely time to be born, when everything is growing and the weather is warm!”

     “And your nephew will have someone to play with,” she smiled. His family accepted Demeter as one of their own. Though no one called her Demeter, the family knew they had a goddess in their midst. At first their kindness towards her had been obligatory, for her status and the bounty that she brought them. But her warmth and kindness won them over, and they enjoyed her company as a person as much as they enjoyed the blessings she gave the land. Doubtless Eurycleia would be happy to have a grandchild with divine blood.

o0o

     Winter ended early again, the ground quickly warming up the seeds that had been carefully planted and causing them to burst forth in a verdant ocean. Demeter's belly swelled, and she was positively radiant and rosy-cheeked, eager to have a child of her very own to raise. She kept her fingers crossed, praying silently that it was Iasion's child. After all, sometimes it did take months to conceive with someone. Iasion was a more than healthy man, his virility unquestionable. After her encounter with Zeus, she had scrubbed herself nearly raw, furiously banishing the evidence of her brother's misdeeds.

     Zeus had made no attempt to contact her or apologize. That was rather wise of him, seeing as she was likely to castrate him upon sight, even now.
Good riddance
. She was still biding her time, waiting for the moment she could have her vengeance, wondering if she should tell Hera what happened so they could punish him or if Hera would turn against her like she did her husband's mortal lovers. The younger sister could be especially angry at times, but she would – well, at least
should
– know that Demeter had not been a party to Zeus' deceit and was just as angry about the situation.

     But her first concern was her husband and child. So she would exercise patience – something her brother had usually been lacking. Zeus would have no part in raising her child. She would simply tell him that the child was Iasion's and hope that it was indeed the truth.

o0o

     Later in the spring, the villagers decided to have another festival. Even at this time of the year, what was edible was more than plentiful, and besides, why not take a chance to have fun? There were races and dances, even a good-natured wrestling match between various older men and youths as the audience cheered them on. With the gift of a particularly tasty strain of grape seeds from Demeter and all the knowledge for growing and maintaining grapevines, the fall festival would have wine-making as part of its routine. The goddess was by no means like her nephew, the constantly drunk and reveling Dionysus, but at the right times, a jug of wine was good for the spirits. She also showed them a better process of turning their barley into ale so the men had something far better to imbibe of than the bitter spirits they had been accustomed to. Everyone was even livelier than they had been the year before. The farms still required work – Demeter gave no shortcuts – but nobody had to worry about going unrewarded for their many years of hard work, and the babies born this year had never known hunger.

     Demeter's belly continued to swell. She had never looked more like the Goddess of Bounty than she did with a child growing inside of her, and she counted down the days of spring with eagerness and anticipation, but not without worry.

     The summer solstice approached with another celebration – why not, as the mortals had taken to saying – and one day passed into another. On the night of that next day, the goddess found herself wracked with pain as she sat near the hearth, spinning some wool to keep her hands occupied as Iasion whittled some wood with a beautifully crafted knife she had gifted him with.

     She had never had a child – but she had been midwife several times this spring to women in the village, and these certainly weren't the first times she had helped a woman with her child. She had been there at Hera's side when her sister gave birth to her first child.

     Another contraction hit her and she gasped, suddenly feeling hot and claustrophobic. She put down her spindle and distaff, doing her best to hide the pain from the man who loved her.

     “Do as you wish. I need to go and meditate,” she said before rushing out of the house. Several more spasms of pain rolled over her before she finally reached the area just outside her cave. The night air was relief to her shuddering flesh, and she groaned softly as she crouched down. Was this what it had been like for her mother, delivering six children? She understood that childbirth was painful, and in the case of mortal women, risky. But gods above, she had never imagined it to be like this. She had heard of mortal women going through labor for a whole day, even two. Suddenly, she wished her mother or sister was at her side to assist her and distract her from the agony that the impeding childbirth was putting her through.

     Two years ago, the ground around the cavern had been completely barren. Now, thick grass surrounded the rocks with little flowers dotting the undulating green waves. Its vitality reassured her and she dug her fingers into the soil to steady herself. The smooth, steady flow of life from the earth washed over her frazzled nerves, and she took a deep breath. She would be calm and face this ordeal with dignity. However painful the contractions were, she felt the energy flow over her and around her about-to-be-born child. The full moon hung high above her head as she finally delivered her offspring, a loud wail filling the air after the babe took her first breath.

     Her sickle made short work of the umbilical cord, and the screaming baby silenced as soon as Demeter pressed a nipple to its lips, letting this distract her as the afterbirth soon followed. A quick blast of heat withered the umbilical cord and placenta before turning it to dust, ensuring that nobody could take it and attempt to make magic with it or otherwise desecrate it.

     Ignoring the slime on the child's skin, she quickly checked its sex and was inwardly overjoyed that it was a girl. She would have loved a son, but she felt that a girl-child was the best choice in this situation, and leaned back against a rock as she felt the insistent suction on her breast.

     When her daughter was sated, Demeter gently laid her on the grass. The pleasant summer air was no discomfort for the babe, and she lay there on the thick growth, squirming around. With trepidation, Demeter placed her hand on the newborn's little chest, feeling the heartbeat. She closed her eyes, concentrating on the energy within the infant and her breathing stilled before she slowly opened her eyes, looking down at the babe.

     She was a full-blooded goddess. The very thing she had been hoping for – Iasion's paternity – denied. Zeus's seed had taken root despite her efforts. Just how much of her father would be apparent in this tiny little goddess?

     Demeter was grim as she bathed her daughter in the stream that ran nearby, ignoring the babe's cries at the cold water. When she was clean, her mother held her up, the moonlight illuminating her fair skin. The color of her hair looked to be dark red, a few shades darker and redder than Rhea or Hestia’s auburn tresses. An examination of her body showed no flaws, but when she carefully pried one eye open with two fingers, she gasped softly at the color.

     The babe's eyes were hazel, but not like any she had ever seen. From the retina she saw spikes of blue and hints of lavender give way to green before changing to gold and amber. When she lifted her head though, the green was more visible, the other colors not so much. That was nice.

     She gave out a quiet sigh before cradling the baby in her arms. It had been so nice outside she didn't bring a cloak with her, so the baby remained naked in her arms as she walked down the hills to the house she shared with Iasion. The coals still glowed in the hearth, sending a soft, faint light through the room. A cradle already sat next to the bed, a gift from Esthanes to the expecting couple. Hyalos's son had received a similar gift, and Eurycleia was proud of her youngest son for finding a vocation he was so skilled at.

     Demeter debated waking Iasion up or letting him sleep. Finally, she decided on the former, for this was such a momentous occasion. She sat at the side of the bed, shaking him awake with one hand.

     “Huh... Wha...” he muttered as he squirmed around, rolling over to see who it was.

     “Iasion.” Her voice left no doubt as to the identity of his visitor, and he sat up, rubbing his eyes. He never liked sleeping alone, and wouldn't complain about being roused out of sleep by the Goddess he adored.

     “You have a daughter.”

     It wasn't until she had said that that he noticed a bundle in her other arm. He was silent for several long moments, his sleepy brain processing this recent turn of events. A daughter?

     “Why did you not tell me you were giving birth? I would have been there... Mother or Ptheia would have been honored to help,” he gently reproached her as she slid the child into his arms, a soft linen blanket wrapped around her little body.

     “I did not need any help. I am a Goddess.” she replied firmly.

     Iasion could not see much of his daughter's face, but he lifted one hand and gently ran his fingers along the small face, marveling at how soft the skin was.

     “What is her name?” he asked. Demeter was quiet for a few moments.

     “I have not yet named her. I thought we would talk about it,” she said, pleased that he respected her enough to not demand the right to name the child.

     “Melippe?” he asked. It was the name of some long-dead relative, but it had a nice ring to it.

     “Mmm.” Demeter frowned before she shook her head. “Doesn't sound right.”

     “Hm,” Iasion murmured softly. “Maia?” he suggested. Demeter scoffed softly, thinking of one of Zeus' former lovers, the flighty Maia, mother of mischievous Hermes.

     “Hardly.”

     “Alestis?” he asked. It would be a fitting tribute to his dead friend and benefactress.

     “Not bad, but let us wait on that.” The birth had taken a lot out of her. “After my labor, I am in need of rest. How about we wait until tomorrow morning?” she asked.

     “Certainly, love. I was lonely for you,” he whispered. She smiled put the baby into the cradle and set it on the side of the bed before she slid onto the feather-stuffed mat, where he sleepily draped an arm across her before returning to unconsciousness.

     It almost seemed a dream to her, the entire pregnancy and the birth. But the empty feeling in her womb served as a reminder. She turned her head, staring at the cradle. The child slept, and she let out a quiet sigh, hoping that Zeus would never find out.

o0o

     The child is a girl.
This news was received with thoughtful silence as Zeus glanced at the eagle that now rested on a golden perch, and he paced his bedchamber as he stroked his beard. It was most likely his, but he had to make sure. The eagle was unable to discern such a thing, so he would have to do it himself. After his pet had rested for what he deemed an appropriate length of time, he roused it gently.

     “I have a message for my sister.” He bowed his head, whispering it into the bird's ear.

o0o

     The glow of morning filled the room, alighting on the sleeping couple in the bed and Demeter's child. The babe whimpered and stirred before starting to cry, rousing her mother and causing Iasion to stir awake with a soft groan. The goddess wasted no time in bringing her child's mouth to her breast, climbing out of bed as she did so. Before Iasion could speak, Demeter looked over her shoulder at him.

     “Let us name her before we do anything else,” she murmured, not wishing to give anybody else the opportunity to name her baby. In the cheerful morning light, she was able to see much more of her baby. Her skin was creamy-pale, and where the sun caught in it, her hair would become golden-red before going back to a deep reddish auburn. There was no resemblance to her father as far as she could see, or even of any other male relative. Rather, she seemed to take after Rhea and herself, which really wasn't a bad thing.