By the next day, Hermes wind messengers had located Hera’s place of residence as she was residing with Rhiannon, the Goddess of Earth and Nature. With the idea of reconciliation in mind, Zeus dressed in an elegant sparkling suit, before descending down below to an enchanted like forest with a bouquet of red roses. Zeus knocks on the enchanted cottage door to see the door briefly opens before being directly slammed into his face.

Zeus blinks in surprise and angry as he knocks again and says, “Hera, I’ve come to talk.”

A fierce eruption of whispers can be heard inside as the door swings open and the tall figure of Rhiannon glares down at him. Rhiannon’s antlers pointedly stare at him as if daring him to try anything. “She’s waiting for you in the gardens,” Rhiannon growled before slamming the door loudly in Zeus’s face for the second time in his life.

Zeus has the urge to summon lightning to strike the cottage home, but he very well knew that he was outside of his own domain and here, Rhiannon ruled. Zeus makes his way around the cottage to see the tall, hunched over muscular figure of Hephaestus carefully pruning the flowers with garden shears. Zeus awkwardly sidesteps the figure of his misshapen son. And though in everyone else’s eyes, Hephaestus was not really considered as such, in Zeus’s eyes as Hephaestus would forever be a cripple. But the sheer cold irony was whose fault was that?

“Father,” Hephaestus said causing Zeus to become still.

Zeus uncomfortably pauses and replies, “Yes, son.”

“Please tell, Aphrodite, I shan’t ever be returning back. The political bond that was shared between us is no more and she is free to love and be with whose heart she desires,” Hephaestus quietly said.

“Yes, I shall tell her that,” Zeus quietly answered.

“Take care of yourself, father,” Hephaestus honestly said as he turned to stare his father in the eye.

Zeus shamefaced turns away and swiftly walks away through the garden. Venturing on the garden path, Zeus turns the corner to see a breathtaking woman with loose walnut colored tresses hanging around her as her loose white spring dress twirls around her. Hera glances up as her warm chocolate eyes flash with a coolness that even left Zeus surprised.

Hera motions for Zeus to approach as Zeus kneels down like a love-struck fool. Holding out the red roses, Zeus says, “I’m sorry, my love, I was wrong. Please forgive me and come home.”

Hera smiles bitterly and sighs, “Oh, Zeus, you are just the same as ever.”

“Yes, I still am madly in love with you, Hera,” Zeus self-righteously proclaimed as he reached to take Hera’s hand.

Hera gently pulls away and says, “You know, I once hoped to live like those mortal women in their happy homes surrounded by children and loving warmth. But I can see clearly my mistake now, I can see that I choose wrongly that day.”

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Zeus blinks in confusion as Hera says, “Oh, Zeus, don’t look so confused. Yes, I have loved you for eons, but all for what? But for pain and suffering that never ends. But even so, I would have stayed if I was still certain that your heart was me. And sadly, it hasn’t been for some time now.”

Zeus opens his mouth to protest, but Hera gracefully raises her hand to silence him. “Zeus, do you know what my favorite flower is?” Hera asked.

Zeus blinks in confusion and says, “It’s a rose, you’ve always loved red and pink roses, they’re your favorite.”

Hera ruefully smiles and reaches to take hold of a small flowering like shrub that has small red fruits growing there on. “Zeus, do you know what this plant, Arbtus means in the language of love?” Hera casually asked.

Zeus narrows his eyes and says, “I can’t recall, but I remember always having seen them being grown in your garden.”

Hera quietly looks up and says, “It means, you are the only one I love.” Hera turns to gaze at Zeus and says, “They were always my favorite flowers.”

Zeus remains quiet for a moment and says, “And I love you, Hera.”

“No, you can’t love anyone but yourself, I can see that now,” Hera retorted. With a smile, Hera reaches into her pocket and takes out a dried flower. “Do you recognize this?” Hera tiredly asked.

Zeus shakes his head as Heras sadly replies, “I thought not.” Hera ruthlessly crushes the dry flower in her hand and says, “This is the end for you and me, Zeus.” Throwing her shoulders back, a power suddenly descends that of the powerful goddess that Hera was. “By the ancient laws of the Cosmos, be my witnesses, from this day forth, I will no longer be known as Hera of Mount of Olympus, but only as Hera. Let the bonds that tied the Lord and Lady of Mount Olympus be torn asunder, this I proclaim to all and so mote be.”

A giant ring of power spreads out and forth throughout the Cosmos as the vow of Hera could be heard to every corner. Many gods and goddesses were shocked, while a few even quietly cheered for Hera’s audacity. Turning towards Zeus with a proud look in her eyes, Hera says, “Now, there is nothing tying us together, Zeus of Mount Olympus. Begone!”

Zeus remains in shock unable to believe that Hera not only had refused him but divorced him. Zeus narrows his eyes in anger humiliation and tosses the roses onto the ground. “Mark my words, Hera, you will regret this,” Zeus hissed, before storming off as lightning flashes overhead in emphasis.

“Maybe, but not today,” Hera softly muttered under her breath.

From the bushes, the tanned rugged figure of Hephaestus emerges with a smile filled with pride and joy. Hera’s eyes fill in pain at seeing the limping gait of Hephaestus as tears begin to stream down her eyes. “I should have left him the day he called you a monster and cast you from Mount Olympus,” Hera whispered.

Hephaestus laughs warmly and takes his mother’s hands. “Then I would not have become the great god that I am today. Not all tragedy is the end, mother, but merely the start of another pathway. Who knows, if not for Zeus’s cruel action, perhaps, I would have become some minor god on Mount Olympus,” Hephaestus sincerely said.

Hera blinks back her tears and fondly touches Hephaestus neatly trimmed bearded face. “Then, we shall start life anew, together,” Hera fondly said.

“Yes, it will be interesting to be out on the dating scene again,” Hephaestus teasingly said.

Hera flushes in embarrassment and smacks Hephaestus on his arm. Hephaestus merely laughs and says, “When you are ready, mother, we shall both try again. And this time, we’ll choose someone who will see us far beneath the surface.”

Hera gently reaches over and squeezes Hephaestus calloused hands in reply. Hand in hand, the two strolled back to the cottage, where the others are waiting inside to celebrate, and more importantly, get drunk. Because what is a good god, who can’t get drunk?