But, as it ever is with the gods as it is with mankind, this peace did not last, for neither were only made to toil this world alone.
Stories of the Father: The First Days of Mars (III)
It is the first days of fall, and already she grumbles as she wraps her shawl that much tighter to herself to keep safe from the bite of aquilo, making her way towards the front of the wagon train. There, she finds her father bent over the architect's plans for the expanded vineyard and its cellar, clearly unhappy with something or other as he mutters dangerously under his breath.
And that's
before he takes a good look at her, and whereas his expression was merely overcast, there appears a full blown storm growing across his visage.
"
Tell me nothing but truth," his voice is calm but by the barest of margins, "
Who?"
"
Does it matter pater?" you say stiffly, the taste of iron still yet pungent upon your lips, "
They are certainly worse off than I?"
His silence, however brief, is the only thing that warns her of her mistake, before he barks an order to one of the nearby servii- Brennus, she faintly recalled- to have a boulder removed by twilight and takes her by her arm, firmly yet gently. As they walk back to the villa, he stops by a copse of trees that are some fifteen paces from the eastern wall, and sits her on one of the stone seats that were littered throughout.
"
What does it matter daughter," he rumbles, silhouetted as he is against the hidden sun making him appear to her as a shadow of his more genial self, "
when I
am the one who must right your wrongs. Again I ask, who?"
"
Pater, I-" she attempts, stopping as she sees (difficult as it is with the sun behind him) his eyes narrow.
"
Thrice I ask daughter, and not once more. Who?"
"
Floriana and her friends," she whispers, looking away.
"
...the Marian girl?" He says in askance, and it's all she can do to nod without trembling.
Silence hangs between them as a heavy blanket, before he turns from her a moment, then kneeling besides her takes her face gently in his hands as he begins wiping the blood and grime from her face.
"
Claudia,
the words of one little girl, no matter her familia, mean nothing
to me," he says in that voice that cuts her sharply, the disappointment palpable, "
but the words of my own daughter mean everything, so why must you lie
to me? Have I been a bad pat-"
"No!" you cry, stricken to your heart as the tears that had once threatened to fall roll down your cheeks, "
I did not mean to lie, I am the one who did you a disservice. I know you don't care, but I do
. You are nothing if not kind and wise, and I am reckless and-"
There was more that passed from your lips, but your ramblings were unceremonially silenced as your father brought you into his breast and just...held you a moment in a tight embrace; you remember not the duration, but it was once he pulls you away that you are relaxed.
He sits beside you, a comforting presence as he unravels your hair from its untidy binds and begins to cleanse the wound upon your right temple and begins to once more recount the story of Mars.
"
It is in the midst of the Silver Age that Mars, then the least of the gods, learns and plys the trade of a farmer, growing all the crops needed to sustain Olympus. Of his siblings, it is he who works the hardest to ensure the prosperity of the realm, and the one to become their mediator in times of strife, most notably when he returns to his home and finds it covered in exquisite tapestries. Pondering their meaning, he takes them to his sister Bellona in askance and learns that, in his absence, she had challenged a slip of a girl, called Arachne, for daring
to approach her in skill and had cursed her for her efforts.
Mars was horrified to learn this, some having said he had been sweet on the girl before this and others that it was his strength of character, and took to learning the truth of the matter, taking the time to gather the various accounts of the many spectators to slowly unravel the heart of the matter.
At first, all seems well until it is revealed that Arachne had surpassed Bellona Minerva in skill and woven tapestries of far greater quality and meaning than her own efforts, despite
having been the one to have mentored her in the craft; enraged, Bellona had taken it upon herself to punish Arachne for the crime of hubris and had turned her into the first spider...despite that doing so had been in clear violation of Bellona's own rules. Presenting the matter to his pater familias, Jupiter O. M., Bellona's guilt in the matter was swiftly determined but when the time came to unravel the curse placed upon Arachne, it was found that the curse's strength had long since cost the girl her life, having past on sometime prior to give birth to the first generation of spiders."
It was then he pulled away, having looked over his work and found it satisfactory, standing to the fullness of his height and twisting his back this way, grunting as it cracked loudly. He turned to her and before he could even ask-
"
It is for this reason, and many others besides, that he earned the name Quirinus," she recited distantly, "
And though other gods have lain claim to the title, it was by his action that had brought peace to not only his household but that of Arachne's, though it did little to help prevent the building tensions that led to the end of the Silver Age. If there was a lesson to depart, it is to beware the consequences of our actions, which for there are those that we cannot take back, and therefore act with forethought and justice in heart and mind."
"
Not quite in those words, but the sentiment is there," her father nodded somewhat sharply, his expression stony for a moment more, before a slow smile graced his lips, "
So...they were worse off?"
Her smirk was all the response she gave, resulting a boisterous chuckle from her father.
