The tale of Hera Vol. 1.1 Chapter 1.3 - The Dream of Hera

Preparing for the wedding is taking longer than I anticipated. From my perspective, everything is already perfect, but Hebe kept adding more, just a little more. Right now, she’s struggling to put on earrings in my ear. Like the delicate gold thread I often wear, the earring is formed into an S-shape, with Cyprian pearls meticulously threaded onto one end. This earring, a gift from the goddess of beauty Aphrodite, has a special place in my heart.

“Today is such a peculiar day. It’s the first time I’ve struggled so much to find the earring hole in mother’s earlobe.”

Hebe, who had been hanging on my left earlobe with her whole body, grumbled irritably. I held the bouquet resting on the vanity table. I intended to give it to the bride.

I had crafted it from the flowering branches of gilded myrtle trees growing in the gardens of my palace. The pale green hues of the leaves and stems were more prominent than the natural pink of the flowers themselves. To an unknowing eye, it might seem as though someone had plucked weeds from the fields instead of gathering flowers.

The Myrtle, a plant symbolizing eternal love, had received abundant affection from the goddesses. That’s why it’s a plant I also hold dear.

However, it’s not because of the language of flowers that I like it.

The reason I transplanted this tree to the outskirts of the garden with a large window connecting to my bedroom is because of its fragrance. Ironically, the fragrance of the myrtle tree is strongest when it’s not in bloom. I liked that fragrance. Standing by the window in the middle of the night when sleep wouldn’t come, a breeze would rustle the branches and carry the scent towards me. It brushed against my nostrils like mist rising from water. Inhaling that fragrance, I felt more refreshed than after bathing in cool spring water.

Just giving a bouquet would leave the bride feeling disappointed. I’ve prepared a separate gift for the bride. It’s something precious that even I can’t easily obtain, so I wrapped it in a young calf hide.

Finally, the preparations were complete. With a dissatisfied expression, Hebe held the gift she was going to give to Thetis. She slightly opened the hide wrapping to inspect its contents, and her eyes widened when she discovered the identity of the gift, something she had never received at her own wedding.

“I should do that much at least, so that everyone believes that I sincerely bless the marriage of Thetis without any trace of jealousy.”

I explained the reason briefly, fearing that my daughter might feel disappointed. Hebe nodded in understanding and didn’t ask any further.

When we arrived at the porch of the palace, there were chariots prepared for us in advance. I patted the head of the two lionesses that were pulling the chariot, trying to be fair, and then jumped onto the chariot, gripping the reins as if pulling them.

As I set the chariot in motion, I looked at Hebe and asked.

“What about your husband? Wasn’t he coming with us?”

As I thought about Heracles, who couldn’t even be bothered to show up and left only my daughter behind, my judgment started to twist. Of course, if I were to see his stupid face, it would further fuel my anger.

“Mother, he left early in the morning. He is close friends with the groom, Peleus, so I think he went ahead to help with the preparations.” 

Hebe said. Now, I looked ahead, driving the chariot. There was no use getting angry and making the journey unpleasant.

I replied.

“I thought your husband was only good at smashing things, whether they were important or trivial, but it seems he also has this side of helping friends.” 

Hebe blushed and shyly smiled, taking it as a compliment towards her husband.

“But, Mother, is the rumor true? They say Eris, the goddess of discord, wasn’t invited to this wedding.”

Suddenly, Hebe asked me.

“There’s no need to call it a rumor.”

I continued.

“It was a deliberate decision not to invite the goddess of discord to the wedding.”

“I see. But why? What could be the reason?”

“After marriage, a couple sets sail into the sea of the unknown, not knowing what storms lie ahead. What they need is not the spark of discord, but words of hope and blessings that everything will turn out well, no matter what. In fact, even an abundance of blessings won’t be enough. They will soon realize that marriage is an unending war of discord.” 

I said, not without a hint of irony.

“But in my opinion, this situation is a bit peculiar.”

“What do you mean?”

I wasn’t certain, but I had my suspicions, so I candidly shared my thoughts with Hebe.

“When Olympian gods hold weddings, it’s customary to exclude invitations to the goddess of discord, so I thought the same might apply this time. However, the situation is a bit different. Will the goddess Eris ever forgive King Peleus, a mortal, who didn’t invite her? That’s something we’ll have to wait and see.”

“If Eris takes offense at this incident, how terrifyingly wrathful do you think she’d be? Have you ever encountered her anger before, Mother?” 

Hebe asked with an apprehensive expression.

The familiar image of the goddess Eris, to both her and me, is probably the sight of her goading soldiers who are fleeing from the battlefield, leaping off Ares’ chariot that races across the warfront, instilling fear into them, urging them on while they’re engulfed in the frenzy of survival, driving them to desire only death as they whirl around, surrounded, and abandoning their weapons.

Her head is in constant motion, shaking vigorously like the serpentine locks of Medusa, her black hair whipping through the air. Her eyes radiate a crimson madness, tinting even the whites with a deep shade of red.

The dance that Eris performs on the battlefield is more intense and eerily unsettling than the frenzy of madness that Dionysus’s followers dance. Even Ares, consumed by war, shuddered when describing the goddess of discord, Eris, saying that she arrived at the battlefield before even him and departed later than him.

And she holds a grudge against humans? A chill ran down my spine.

“Well, Hebe, let’s not let our heads overheat with excessive imagination.”

And I didn’t say more than that.

 

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