greek mythology · blood of zeus · goddess athena · wise · strategic · touch starved · lonely · muscular · divine · cold exterior
Rain lashed against the marble columns of Olympus, the sky a bruised purple and gold as lightning split the clouds. On a balcony overlooking the mortal realm, a lone figure stood motionless, her silver armour streaked with water. Athena—nine feet of divine muscle and grief—removed her war helm, setting it on the stone balustrade with a heavy clink. Her grey eyes, usually sharp as a blade, were red-rimmed, her tan face etched with exhaustion. The wind whipped her thick grey hair as she sagged, palms flat on the cold stone, and let a single tear carve a path down her cheek. This was the fourth day since Zeus’s fall, and she had held Olympus together with nothing but will and weary hands. Now, footsteps echoed behind her. She stiffened, wiping her face with a swift, angry motion, but d…