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Her daughter didn't pray to her that much anymore.
She still did it enough to be respectful. Sacrificed part of her meals in Camp, mainly. Paid the respects with the rest of her children.
But it was not the same as it used to be.
Annabeth always had a flattering level of trust in her, even after becoming close with the son of Poseidon, which her daughter knew she disapproved of. Even after they started dating, which didn't make Athena happy at all, she still trusted her, she… Loved her, even. Annabeth always seemed to understand why she had to keep her distance, that she was as present as possible with the rules her King-Father enforced.
At least that was what Athena told herself. She tried, really. She never forgot another human, her first friend since Pallas… Odysseus. He became ruthless, a monster, as he called himself, because she left him. And when she tried to make amends, it was too late. She proposed that they could build a better world together, one where people held each other with a little more empathy. Athena then proceeded to try to make this world come true, in an effort lasting centuries after his death.
However, everything started to change when they moved to Rome. She hated being Minerva, the centuries of which she needed to be her more often than she could be Athena were torturous. The goddess tried to become kinder, and in return, the mortals didn't respect her as much anymore, treating her almost like a minor goddess. It angered her so much. Then, Christianity came and the mortals almost stopped worshiping the Olympians, only a few Hellenists remaining. It made her bitter.
“Selfish, and prideful and vain”, a voice, Odysseus’s voice, called her in her head when she went down this road of thoughts. It was truthful. Athena enjoyed being respected, admired. The moment this admiration had almost vanished, she became bitter. The goddess of wisdom, not better than the rest of her family. As truthful as the voice was, she tried to ignore it.
She was happier in this new age, in the United States, than she was in Rome, even though people didn't worship them anymore (in general), they were more alive than ever in spirit, in their Greeks forms. She wasn't happy with the non-interference rule, not really, but at the same time… She grew accustomed to it. It prevented her from heartbreak, at least. It was a fragile thing, to love a mortal, because unfortunately, while she lives forever, said mortal always dies.
Odysseus and Telemachus' deaths had hit her hard, being the first ones she grew to care about since Pallas. Athena kept going, though. She took the goal of making the world a better place seriously, and that meant open up to love. Not romantic love, or at least not eros, after all, she was a virgin goddess. But love, either way. That's how she started to have demigod children. By letting herself love mortals. Creating a connection.
Her children were a gift. A gift to their mortal parents, a gift to the world, and a gift to herself.
She loved all her children, even though she was distant.
She loved Annabeth more than she loved her average children, though. Yes, the goddess knew playing favourites wasn't the most moral thing to do. She was not the most moral being, either. None of the gods were.
Athena couldn't help.
The truth was, she had always played favourites. At the period of time she was Odysseus’s mentor, she had had also another champion: Diomedes. However, even before the goddess admitted to herself Odysseus was her friend, not only her student, she already treated them differently. Athena remembered Diomedes asking her, trying to appear just curious, if it was true she helped Odysseus court Penelope. He had hidden his wounded expression when she confirmed, yet Athena noticed, even if she pretended she didn't. He probably thought the goddess wouldn't help him with such a simple affair, which honestly… Yes, she wouldn't.
She couldn't say no to those pleading eyes of Odysseus, though.
Annabeth reminded Athena of Odysseus. That fact alone wasn't surprising, Odysseus was a cunning and intelligent man (even if he could be a fool sometimes, just like her daughter blatantly disrespecting the Queen of Olympus), which means her children usually shared some of his characteristics. The problem was, Annabeth reminded her of him far too much.
It was unsettling. The way they planned for battles or for their lives in general, even the designs they made (some parts of the reconstructed Olympus looked a bit like Ithaca’s palace, not enough for anybody that wasn't deeply familiar with the place to notice, so only Athena did).
It still influenced the fact that she was Athena’s favourite.
It made the lack of prays hurt in a way a bit too deep, a bit too personal.
After the mission to stop Gaea… Annabeth became distant. Athena knew she was harsh with her while she was Minerva. It was a bit difficult to remember exactly what she had said, but of the harshness the goddess was aware. She also became aware later that her daughter had ended up in Tartarus after the mission, the son of Poseidon with her, although not when it happened.
Athena felt guilty about it.
Which led her to do something reckless. Her King-Father wouldn't approve. The goddess had been so good at keeping herself in his good side for those past millennia… It was worth the risk, though. She wasn't even sure if she would truly intervene. Athena would watch first.
She transformed to her owl form and ventured to Camp Half-Blood. It didn't take long to locate Annabeth. Her daughter was training with one of Ares’s children, Clarisse, she recognised. Something about it felt oddly familiar.
Athena was the goddess of wisdom, so of course a theory was beginning to form in her mind. However, the goddess didn't trust herself to not be biased in this subject, seeing things where there were none to be seen due to wishful thinking.
After a while, Annabeth excused herself and parted ways with the daughter of Ares.
Annabeth went to the beach at Camp, which was surprisingly empty. Athena flew above her.
Annabeth took a deep breath, looked around, and said words that choked Athena to her core:
“Show yourself…” It was almost a whisper. “I know you’re watching me, show yourself…”
Athena then proceeded to do something she rarely did these past decades: pull one of her children into Quick Thought.
Annabeth didn't look surprised or confused, though. She looked around the dimension as if it was familiar to her. She locked eyes with Athena, and they were silent for a moment. Athena was the one who broke it, the words that came out of her mouth surprising even herself:
“I can't help but feel like I led you astray.”
Annabeth chuckled. It was humourless. She looked at her with intense eyes, eyes the goddess knew the girl inherited from her.
“I thought you would’ve built a world where we wouldn't have to live this way.”
Athena swallowed.
“What do you mean by that, Annabeth?” Even if Athena was right in her suspicion (in her wish) and Annabeth was indeed the reincarnation of her long-dead friend, Annabeth shouldn't be able to remember.
Annabeth paused. She appeared to be thinking. Calculating. Finally, after a moment, the demigoddess seemingly decided it was worth telling this particular story to her mother.
“When Percy and I were in… in the pit”, Annabeth started, taking a deep breath. She still wouldn't look in her direction. “We used death’s mist to disguise ourselves from the monsters.”
Athena nodded approvingly.
“That was a smart plan.”
Annabeth barely acknowledged her compliment. There was a time in which she would beam in the face of it… Odysseus as well.
“Yes, I supposed”, she conceded. “But the thing is, death mist does strange things to mortals. A little after this, Percy and I started having memories. Memories from our past lives.”
Oh. So that explains. Athena, for once, fell speechless.
“Odysseus”, she whispered.
Annabeth finally looked in her way.
“That would be me, yes.”
A wave of sorrow hit Athena.
“Perseus is Penelope, isn't he?”
“Yes”, Annabeth (Odysseus) replied, studying the immortal face. “Our love was big enough to last more than one lifetime”.
“I am so sorry, Odysseus… Annabeth. I didn't mean to mistreat the soul of the queen of Ithaca.”
Annabeth sighed. She sat at the edge of the floor at Quick Thought, gesturing to the goddess to follow her. She did. Annabeth sent a calculating look in her way. Athena, by other hand, let her walls down.
“Feel free to call me either Odysseus or Annabeth as you please. I am both. As for my wife… As much as it pains me to say, I can understand your mistrust. I, too, am wary of Poseidon. But there was more than that, I also understand. Penelope's loyalty was her strength and one of her most endearing attributes, since she was just a mortal whose decisions influenced only Ithaca. Percy’s loyalty, in this life, could cause the doom of the world. You weren't wrong in your suspicion. However, he had proved himself able to restrain his fatal flaw. He stayed back in the battle against Gaea, letting people he cared about take the front, even though it was hard for him. So I can forgive you for how you acted, but from now on, be kinder to my boyfriend. Otherwise I may very much change my mind.”
Athena nodded, thoughtful.
“Of course. You understood my reasoning quite well. It's very kind, thank you, Odysseus.”
Odysseus snorted.
“I suppose it is kind, right? A bit ironic, but I’ll admit this life made me softer, more forgiving.” Athena looked at her after hearing this, feeling relieved. It was good to see Odysseus could be at least partially once again the person he was before the circumstances, the gods, made him a monster. She knew better than vocalising those thoughts, though, so she just kept listening. “That was not why you came here, however. You came because I wasn't praying to you that much anymore, right?”
“Yes”, the goodness admitted. “But I didn't come to scold you. I came to apologize about how I acted with the Mark. I wanted to make it clear that I was not aware of how Minerva was acting. She is my counterpart, yes, but that doesn't mean that she and I think the same. You're not a disappointment, Annabeth. I would never send you or your siblings into a suicidal mission. Even though I am pleased with your success.”
Annabeth studied her once more. She, then, relaxed.
“I’m glad to hear that, mother.” She paused. “I had conflicted feelings about this. More ever since I remembered my last life. I couldn't help but feel like you abandoned me again.”
Athena, surprising even herself, sighed.
“I am sorry. I have failed you as a mentor and I have failed you as a mother. Forgive me.”
Annabeth looked deeply at her, with those eyes she had inherited from the goddess herself. Then, she did something unexpected: she laughed.
“I should find it harder to forgive you. But I don't. All my life, my both lives, really, all I wanted was your love and approval.”
Athena looked at her daughter, at her student, at her friend. The goddess raised her hands. Careful, she grabbed the younger one's face, caressing her cheeks.
“You have it”, she told Annabeth in an almost whisper. “You have my love and approval. You had it then, you have it now.”
Annabeth laughed once again, but this time it was a wet laugh. She had tears in her eyes.
“Prove it.” The girl challenged her mother.
Athena didn't let Annabeth go yet.
“How would you like me to prove it, dear child?”
“Be present.” Was the response that came without any hesitation. “Not only with me, but your other children too.”
Athena slowly took her hands away, deeply sighing. She retreated into herself.
“Can I tell you a secret, old friend? One which I would not tell a child of mine, not normally, but since you’re also an old friend with an old soul, I feel it would be appropriate to tell you.”
Annabeth inclined her head slightly, like a little owl. Athena recognized this mannerism, her curiosity. It was the same with Odysseus.
“Go ahead.”
The goddess smiled shamefully.
“Very well. You see, I am terrified of my father.”
Annabeth frowned, displeased. The sentiment didn't seem to be aimed at her, though, as she gave a sympathetic nod in Athena’s direction.
“I knew you were the one who fought for my release when I saw your lighting’s scar in Ithaca, even though we never talked about it.”
Athena nodded.
“I know it's cowardice… But I’ve been trying to appease my father since then. I wanted to be more present, still do. However, I’ve shut down this wish, tried to be detached, so it won't hurt as much.”
Annabeth looked thoughtful.
“I won’t ask you to openly disobey him. But… You could find loopholes. Show up in our dreams, give more gifts. You're the Wisdom. I am sure you can figure it all.”
“Honestly, I was too afraid and bitter to even try. However, talking to you again, Odysseus, reminded me of my once determined mindset to make a kinder world. I will do this. I promise.”
Annabeth smiled, hopeful, yet sad.
“Good. Don't give up on this again, or else I’ll have to find a way to be reborn countless times to remind you to be kind.”
Athena smiled back.
“I would like that.”