Conquest Strategy -2-
Heracles couldn't collect his thoughts after Hera's words. He was still struggling to come to terms with having to take a fourth wife, and now hearing that it was tangled up in a war among the gods—none of her words were getting through to him anymore. Even charging across the battlefield amid the giants' screams, he hadn't felt this scattered. Back then, the "he" inside Heracles had endured tremendous agony, but with Heracles' personality holding him steady, he'd powered through. But now, with a fourth wife and a war of the gods? It was far beyond what "he" could handle.
"Just a moment, please, Hera. Is Father—Zeus—really seeing me that way?"
"What, now you're doubting my words too?"
"No, it's not that... I just can't wrap my head around it. I killed his little brothers-in-law for Father's sake. Isn't that enough?"
"...Do you truly see the Gigantes as your subordinates?"
"Adamantia considers them her brothers, so they're my brothers-in-law. Naturally."
"You truly are different from the other men of Achaea."
To "him," this was simple common sense. Of course, Adamantia had reminded him multiple times that they were monsters, which allowed him to fight; he'd navigated the battlefield because of that, and Gaia had thoroughly ensured their safety. But above all, he'd believed the war would end swiftly, bringing peace. And now, his father—whom he'd thought was an ally—was viewing his strength as a threat? Even in a hero's body, for someone ignorant of the world's grand principles like power and authority, it felt profoundly unjust.
And Hera rather liked that tender heart of his.
"Caring for your wife's family is a virtue, but the timing couldn't be worse. Best to keep your distance from any surviving Gigantes, if possible."
"To avoid Father's suspicions?"
"Obviously. By now, Zeus suspects everything about you."
"This is giving me a headache. I'm done with wars."
"...This doesn't seem like something to discuss just between us. Wait here. I'll fetch one of your wives."
More than Hera had expected, Heracles showed little desire. From his perspective, he'd become a powerful god and the husband loved by three beautiful, mighty goddesses—what more could he want? But by Olympus's greedy standards, he was already their greatest rival.
As queen of Olympus, Hera had a duty to prevent war. On the other hand, she wanted her hard-won adopted son, Heracles, to live happily without issue. Her wish for his happiness was genuine. So she hoped he'd open his heart, but realizing it wouldn't be easy, she went to summon Gaia.
"...Tougher than you thought, eh, Hera?"
"Stubborn or just naive? Hard to tell, Lady Gaia."
"That's Heracles' charm. He fixates oddly on getting along with Zeus, but otherwise, he's a fine god."
"...He needs to realize soon that if he doesn't grasp how difficult that is, he'll only hurt himself."
"And it's our job to make him see that. Come on, let's go."
As Hera went to fetch Gaia, the latter was already dressed and waiting. Whether due to her prophetic sight as the primordial goddess of earth, or simply as Heracles' wife, Gaia had foreseen Hera's failure to persuade him. She didn't know about the "he" inside Heracles, but she'd long discerned his childlike side. Knowing that vulnerability drove his deep love for them, she and the other wives had always nurtured it. But for Hera, encountering it for the first time, it was bewildering.
"Did he act like this often on the island of Sicily, Lady Gaia?"
"Oh yes, adorably so. Like watching a child who thinks he's all grown up."
"Goodness, now I'm worried if I can keep such an anxious man as a husband."
"You've seen it yourself: on the battlefield, he's braver than any; at the forge, wiser than any. He just has a soft spot in his heart."
"That soft spot is what's troubling the gods. ...Though I must admit, he does listen well to women."
Heracles waited politely for Hera, who had gone to fetch his wife. Even the gods of Olympus rarely received such respect from her, and she couldn't help but be impressed. When he saw Hera bringing his wife Gaia, his face lit up. The anxiety in his worried eyes vanished, replaced by love for his wife. Just her presence brought him peace; the dissatisfied set of his mouth softened.
"Welcome, Gaia. I've been waiting."
"Not waiting for Hera?"
"I was waiting for the wife Hera would bring. This is sincere."
"Casual with me, formal with Hera?"
"...Cut me some slack. You know she's become my mother."
"Oh? Then I should call Hera 'Mother' too."
Gaia teased back at her husband's shrug, striking Hera like a thunderbolt.
"Please stop, Lady Gaia. I didn't adopt Heracles just to get honorifics from you."
"Or should I use formal speech with you too, Hera?"
"Enough, really. We're not here for that."
"True enough. We're here to talk about the headaches from this common-sense-defying husband of ours."
"?"
Heracles—and the "man" inside him—prided himself on being utterly reasonable, so he tilted his head in surprise. But his inability to grasp the situation frustrated Hera and Gaia. Gaia spoke first.
"Listen well, Heracles. My beloved husband."
"Yeah."
"To be direct: three wives isn't a lot."
"What? Even Father Zeus..."
"Your father Zeus swore not to take any wives besides Hera as a condition of marrying her."
"He calls them not-wives, but he has Leto and Maia right there."
Hera gave a wry smile at Heracles' odd objection. Zeus's lawful wife was Hera, but several goddesses held de facto marital bonds with him. Besides Leto, mother of Artemis and Apollo, and Maia, mother of Hermes, there was Demeter—Hera's sister, whom she couldn't touch—who despised Zeus but bore Kore, queen of the underworld, making her another concubine. For a Zeus who forbade others from taking wives, urging Heracles—who already had three—to take more wasn't excessive.
"Gaia, you're fine with me having more wives?"
"If a new wife keeps you from my bed, I'll lock you in Tartarus on the spot."
"That'll never happen."
"I'd do the same if you neglected Adamantia or Echidna."
"Same for them. All three are my precious wives."
"Then what's the problem? You're not... impotent, are you, Heracles?"
"What?"
Like the seasoned(?) woman she was, Gaia poked at his temper. With his wives pushing him toward a new one, she couldn't fathom rejecting it over love for the others. Heracles gaped in disbelief at the insult, and from the heavens came the giggling laughter of a certain little god watching.
"Me, impotent? What nonsense is that, dear?!"
"I've struggled sending my children off to marry, but getting my husband to remarry this hard? It's a first. If impotence isn't why you're refusing a beauty like Aphrodite, then what is?"
"..."
Heracles was, naturally, hurt. Gaia softened her irritated expression and rephrased gently.
"What I mean is, you're not impotent, so there's no issue with this marriage."
"You still love me, right?"
"Don't distance yourself from me—or you. I'm the anxious one in our relationship."
"Never."
"..."
Hera listened to the newlyweds' murmuring with wide-eyed shock. She'd never imagined any god whispering sweet nothings with that Gaia. And she marveled at the grandmother's momentum in steamrolling the marriage with Aphrodite as fact. What had dragged on with Hera alone accelerated like a geyser once Gaia arrived. Heracles, cornered even by the impotence question, had no more room to maneuver.
"By the way, Lady Gaia, when I visited, the other two weren't there?"
"Of course they went to Aphrodite. We're quite busy handling this incorrigible husband of ours."
Gaia smiled brightly, answering her dear grandson's question. Heracles' three beautiful wives were closing the net around their immature, foolish husband with perfect coordination—to scold him for his needless fretting.