Hell hath no fury...

In the early days, before the mistress killing, and life-ruining began, they were quite happy.

Hera hadn't at first, but she grew to adore her mercurial husband. Her godly attributes, of marriage and women, compelled her to be loyal, to love.

They had their first child, a boisterous, kicking baby named Ares. Granted, Hera wasn't delighted with the child, but she felt that Zeus and she would only grow closer.

All she wanted was to be loved.

One night, when Ares' incessant wailing woke Hera up, a glance at her cold bed told her that her husband was gone.

And then it started. Honestly, Hera knew she shouldn't have been surprised. Storms eventually move on, like Zeus' attention drifted.

He chased mortal girls, girls he could impress and meet for the first time. Hera knew too much, argued too much, and no longer fell for Zeus' acts.

Hera cried at first, angry and humiliated. Gods at the pantheon snickered as she walked by, their eyes full of judgement.

When Hera had been younger, she'd been brash and confident. Her mother had grown irritated with her behaviour, and sent her away.

Undoubtedly that was what the other gods remembered now.

A petulant girl became a cold wife, Hera heard one god whisper to the other.

But despite Hera's shouting and begging, Zeus didn't change. When she told him to stay faithful, or that the other gods mocked her, he remained indifferent.

"You shouldn't let them bully you." Zeus told her, washing his face.

Hera gritted her teeth, tried to stop the fall of ever-present tears. "They don't bully me! They mock me for my unfaithful husband. Why do you do this? Aren't we happy together?"

There was a time when Zeus would have comforted her. There was a time that he would have made promises.

Zeus turned slowly, towelling off drops from his face. "I suppose we aren't happy."

"Why?" Hera couldn't stop those embarrassing, awful tears. "We have everything! Ares-why don't you ever stay with him? Teach him-"

"Enough with this emotional manipulation!" Zeus shouted, flinging the towel aside. "If you are lonely, go find someone who wants to be with you." Hera knew it stung him to hear what a bad father he was.

"Because I married you!" Hera screamed back. "I'm the goddess of marriage, you ass! I can't leave!"

"Enough! Enough! This was my mistake." Zeus snarled, shoving past her to leave.

Hera started sobbing again, her heart torn in two. The father that Zeus and her had shared had wanted nothing to do with his children.

They spent their entire childhoods miserable, and weighed under the burden of that hatred. All Hera had wanted for her own children was happiness and love.

And she had none of it.

Flying from Mount Olympus, Hera went to see her mother, numb with tears and cold. But she had miscalculated. Her mother adored Zeus, he was her favourite, the Titaness' revenge against her weak husband.

Rhea dismissed Hera, as she'd dismissed Hera's stubbornness as a child.

"You must have done something to irritate him." Rhea informed Hera, combing her hands through one of her lion's mane.

"Mother I didn't. He-he's abandoning me, abandoning our son!" Hera's heart squeezed with pain. Shocked, and yet, unsurprised.

"Abandoning?" Rhea's laugh echoed on the rocks. "Has he eaten your child? Tortured your sisters and brothers?"

Hera frowned. "Just because you went through that, you're okay with me suffering?"

Rhea's eyes were cold and grey, much like the eyes of her favourite son. "You are not suffering. What do you want from him anyways? More children? More love?" The last word was tinged with scorn and amusement. "You're the queen of the heavens, act like it."

So Hera left again, humiliated twice over in one day. She couldn't go back to Olympus, couldn't go anywhere outside her husband's realm. She put her hands on the ground, at the feet of the golden apple tree that sprouted on her wedding day.

Her fingers curled into the soft dirt, and her hot, vicious tears cut their way off her face and into the earth.

"I hate him, I hate him, I hate him..." Hera growled, bowed over in front of the tree, the cool earth kind on her hands.

"My child," A primordial, hazy voice spoke through the earth. The being, whose earth brown eyes were now Hera's.

Hera's eyes widened, and she sat up. "Grandmother?"

"Who has made you cry, my angry one?" Gaea asked, her voice the rumble of an avalanche. "I hope you made him suffer." The Earth's laugh was a gentle clattering of pebbles.

"Grandmother, you will think I am stupid," Hera whispered tightly, heart unwilling to open up yet again.

But she needed to tell someone. "Zeus. I married him, I am bound to him for all eternity, and he wants nothing to do with me. He shames me by taking on his mortal mistresses." Hera roughly brushed away her tears. "He sires these bastard brats everywhere, and ignores his child. Ares is becoming wicked and rude to me, much like his blasted father." Hera roughly wiped off her tears, leaving a smudge of dirt on her face.

"My child," Gaea said. "My own husband, my creation, hurt me and locked my children in chains."

"So I should just shut up." Hera said, lowering her head.

"No. I tasked one of my children with chopping him into little pieces." Gaea murmured kindly. "Tell me, goddess of marriage and womanhood. What tie binds you the most?"

"I can't hurt him. My godly attributes won't let me." Hera declared, slamming a hand into the ground. "Even though I'd do anything to-"

"Now you sound like one of my children. But consider, dearest, is there not anyone you can hurt?"

Hera thought it over. "Grandmother, I'm one of the protectors of women, I cannot-"

"Cannot hurt all women, but the ones that shame you? The ones that know Zeus' name, his story, and choose to be his weapons against you?"

Hera said nothing, so Gaea went on.

"My child, you are a god, free of punishment after life, and beholden to no one. Punish those who tarnish marriage bonds, and punish your husband for making a mockery of you. You are of my blood, my creation."

In her mind's eye, Hera saw the salacious stories the sun god gleefully told everyone, heard the retellings of a hundred affairs. Heard again, everyone's pity towards Zeus, trapped with a cruel, cold wife.

Where was her pity? Her consolation for a flighty, disloyal husband? Was she expected to be alone her whole life, chained and unhappy?

Hera nodded, feeling her tears rapidly cooling on her face. "I hate him. I hate all of them."

"Good. Use that anger, that violence and madness in our blood. There is a time for kindness, but this is not it. Let them all fear you." With that, Gaea's voice lulled itself into silence again, and Hera stood.

She gently wiped the dirt off her face, and fixed her hair. The answer now, seemed obvious. Hera had fought in a war since the moment she was born, been born hated and unwanted.

She was used to it, but Zeus would never be used to or safe from her hatred.

With that, Hera flew into the sun titan, Helios' palace. The titan sat up, and dropped his bowl of grapes.

His guests looked similarly surprised.

"Your highness." They murmured and knelt.

Hera's smile was the cut of a scythe, and she tilted her head. "May I join?"

"Of course," Helios said nervously, snapping his fingers to get a seat for her.

"Tell me, who's the newest creature my husband is being unfaithful with?" Hera asked, taking a grape from Helios' bowl.

Helios glanced around. "Majesty," He chuckled. "Surely, anything, is a better-"

One look from Hera silenced him.

"The titaness Leto." Helios replied, ducking his head.

"She will never escape my wrath." Hera promised. "And I keep my promises." With that, she stood, casting a dark shadow over the room.

She wanted to see them laugh, when she was finished torturing Zeus' mistresses. Hera wanted to him suffer.