Actions

Work Header

Rating:
Archive Warning:
Category:
Fandom:
Relationships:
Characters:
Additional Tags:
Language:
English
Series:
Part 10 of Warriors of the Mind
Stats:
Published:
2024-09-29
Updated:
2025-07-27
Words:
165,346
Chapters:
52/?
Comments:
4,516
Kudos:
2,193
Bookmarks:
273
Hits:
75,137

Fighting to be loved

Summary:

Athena's been hurt, much more thoroughly than she realized was possible. For the first time in her immortal life, she is fighting against her own body and mind, and she doesn't know how to win.

Odysseus is home. After two more weeks on sea, a fight with 108 suitors and reunited with his family, he’s quietly accepted that even a desperate prayer won’t bring his former mentor to come back. Little does he know, for two weeks, it’s all Athena’s been trying to do.

Or, what if after God Games, Athena doesn’t wake up in the infirmary? What if it’s up to a few mortals to take care of the goddess that just collapsed in their palace, looking like she should very much be dead?

Updates on Sundays :)
xx
Also sometimes it takes me a bit to respond to comments especially on earlier chapters bc as you can tell the amount of comments this fic gets is out of this world, but eventually I will reply, I appreciate them very much

Notes:

for the ideas and also for letting me spam your inbox lol <3

a) I still don’t want to hear any complaints about how lightning actually works. Science is not my strong suit. I know how knives work and how being sad works and that’s about it.

b) Fair warning, I put my whump-coat on for this. I feel my descriptions are slightly more graphic than usual, so if anything you've read of my epic stuff was already at the limit for you, proceed with caution

Otherwise, enjoy :)

(See the end of the work for other works inspired by this one.)

Chapter 1: Get back to your domain

Summary:

After God Games, Athena makes her way back to her palace.
It's not fun.

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

A golden heard with lightning wrapped around it on a blue background and the Text Fighting to be Loved, Epic the Musical

Another lightning strike hit the goddess of wisdom, sending her down to the marble that seemed very shaky in her fading vision.

Athena drew a ragged breath, ichor running from her lips.

If it’s my last wish, father, please grant it, I beg of you.

Her wings lying uselessly on top of her, she raised her hand pleadingly.

“Please, let him go.” The words came out so quiet, so broken. “Please, father, let him go.”

She had barely finished the words when the world went dark around her.

 

She woke up choking, making a terrible gurgling sound as she tried to breathe through the ichor in her throat, arms helplessly trying to prop herself up out of the puddle of golden liquid.

Heavy steps shook the ground around as a shadow moved over her.

Athena whimpered softly.

Zeus took hold of her chiton, lifting her up easily like you would an unwanted kitten by the scruff of its neck.

She gasped, no air finding its way into her lungs.

“So,“ he said. “There we are, child of my mind. What now?“

She couldn’t speak, grey eyes glistening. Ichor dripped down onto the floor as lightning stung in her flesh like shards of glass, trembling and twisting as its creator was so close by. Her mind did not allow a thought past pain and the knowledge that she had to answer.

“Father…” the word came out as a toneless whimper.

“Do you understand now that I am King on Olympus and not you?”

She managed a nod. In a more present state of mind she would have told him that she had never questioned his reign in the first place.

She was dimly aware that they were not alone in the arena, but firmly kept her focus on him, knowing that there was not a lot of focus she was capable of right now.

At least if you take my life, let me go to Ogygia and let Odysseus deal the final blow.

Her father’s figure danced and blurred in front of her. The lightning in his eyes was dying down.

“I believe you,” he said, setting her back down. Her knees buckled instantly, sending her to the floor hard, sitting slumped over in front of his feet. She weakly tried to move her wings in a reflex to keep herself upright.

“Let this serve as a warning,” Zeus addressed the gods on the ranks with a booming voice. “that you should not easily challenge the king of the gods. This time, and only this time, some goodwill shall be shown. Hermes?”

“Yes, father?” The messenger god’s voice was uncharacteristically thin.

“Go to Ogygia and set the mortal free.”

Hermes saluted, looking straight ahead, careful not to spare Athena a glance.

“Will do, Sir.” And with that, he was gone.

Athena sat still, pain blurring her perception. Ichor was running down her skin, flaming over sore flesh. Electricity prickled in the open wounds, making her fingers tremble uncontrollably.

Don’t pass out. Sit still and don’t do anything, nothing that could make him change his mind.

The smell of ichor was all-encompassing, it was drenching what was left of her clothes, dizzyingly floating around her.

Zeus waved his hand dismissively.

“Council is concluded. Get back to your domains.”

With soft murmurs, the crowd started to disperse. Zeus bowed down to his daughter, lifting up her chin. His fingers were burning on her bleeding cheek.

“I hope you understand that my act of mercy does not mean I approve of how you behaved tonight.”

“I know, father,” she heard herself say. “Thank you for granting it even as I am undeserving of it."

Please, don’t let this be the wrong thing to say, please don’t punish Odysseus for my wrong-doing, please…

Something vaguely resembling affection replaced his stony expression.

“Get back to your domain, Athena.”

He let go of her and left the arena, and then she was alone.

Instinctively, she tried to uncurl her wings, feeling one of them had been struck. The smell of burnt feathers joined that of burnt flesh. She gasped when her wing-muscles strained against tearing, tears filling her eyes.

Gods, Athena, focus. Take stock. Make a plan, by Styx.

But it hurt, so much.

A coughing fit made her body light up with white, searing fire, blinding her as her muscles tensed. The hand she could move instinctively at her mouth despite the pain, she felt ichor wetting it at an alarming rate.

She barely managed to stay upright through the coughing, gasping for air when it finally passed.

I need to get out of here. That’s what he said, get back to your domain. If I’m still here when he comes back…

She had been dismissive of injuries in the past, given that she had barely even been nicked in all the battles she’d been in, not even in the fight against the giants. If you were good enough, you just didn’t get hurt, so no need to entertain the possiblity too much.

And here we are now, and all I have is the not very helpful advice I gave Odysseus, that unless his legs are broken he can get up if he sets his mind to it.

Well, her legs weren’t broken, even if her right wrist most likely was, and even if one of her wings was rendered unusable unless she wanted it to rip in two. Time to live up to the poeticized will of the warrior.

She used her left arm to support herself, keeping the right cradled to her chest as best as possible. The arena was spinning around her. The first attempt she made at getting up ended just as quickly with her back on the ground, panting. Her body was not supposed to behave like this. It was supposed to obey her without protest, at all times. This was not right.

She reached for her spear with some difficulty, using it to pull herself to her feet with agonizing effort. The wounds the lightning bolt had left felt like shards of glass were stuck inside them, rubbing together with every movement. The hand gripping her spear was bleeding as if it was trying to alert her to the damage. Athena groaned softly, the sound echoing through the empty arena.

Alright, hardest part is over.

She almost laughed out loud at the empty encouragement her mind helplessly produced.

If I don’t get out in time, all this was for nothing. I need to get Odysseus home.

Tears spilled out against her will, but she paid them no mind. All that mattered was that she took a step even as the room swayed, even as her hand threatened to slip from her spear, even as she had to forcefully keep her right wing from trying to help with balance, and another as the bone of her wrist stabbed into her flesh, and another as the arena temporarily lost focus.

Even when she was only at the entrance of the arena, she already questioned how her body was still enduring the abuse she was putting it through.
Olympus was mercifully deserted outside, the showcasing of Zeus’s power seemed to have its job of intimidation quite well.

Athena stumbled as she pulled herself forward, wings dragging behind her rather than helping her. Her chiton felt heavy with ichor.

A fragment of the lightning bolt crawled out of the wound in her chest like a spider, slicing like blades as it moved. Her throat produced a gasping groan as it pulled free of her skin, dissolving in a small ripple. She staggered, all but her full weight resting on her spear, and silently screaming at herself that she had to keep going, by Styx, if I fall, I won’t be able to get back up.

Olympus had never felt this cold to her before.

She managed another shaky step, her legs unstable despite not having been hit too badly.

Looking ahead, her palace seemed miles away even though it was one of the closest to the arena.

Stumbling forward with a lack of grace she hadn’t known for thousands of years, she pushed beyond the lightning tearing through her body, ichor running from her lips, breaths coming in shallow pants as she forced step after step, not allowing a rest because she wasn’t sure if she could even come back from leaning against a pillar for a moment.

The world blurred and swayed around her, but she pushed forward through agonized tears, telling herself despite all logic, that if she only managed to reach her palace, Odysseus would get home safely, if only she didn’t collapse, he’d be fine.

She yelped when she almost slipped on her own ichor, right hand instinctively reaching for the spear to support herself, jagged bone stabbing into her flesh like a fire-gleaming knife. Her half-stifled scream seemed to echo over Olympus.

Keep going. Just keep going.

The fact that she actually did seemed impossible even to herself, defying all logic. The amount of ichor she had lost had to be more than had been inside in the first place.

Her fingers cramped around her spear, trying to keep her hold on it secure. Her hand was numb. No other part of her body showed the same mercy.

There was the door of her palace, she only knew because it opened at her approach, her vision failed to communicate anything more than that.

Another step, hanging by will alone, passing the threshold. The world was rapidly losing color around her.

Athena only barely managed to turn and at least shield her broken wrist before her body forcefully untethered her from reality and send her plunging into darkness.

Notes:

Aaaand... who am I kidding I know this is brutal.
I just looked at all the shit I've put Athena through so far and was like look i think you can be more unwell physically and mentally, and I will write that. (That's honestly exactly how the rewriting of my novel is going, too, teenage me who wrote the first version had not nearly the deranged vision of present-day me LOL)
There'll be comfort later, I promise, at the latest in chapter three (edit: I lied it's gonna be chapter 4 I split chapter 2). Idk yet how I'll split it exactly, but there will def be plenty of the Ithacan royal family... you know, once Athena finds a way to get to them... 😈

Also when I wrote that sentence about Zeus looking vaguely affectionate let me tell you I am so ready to throw hands with this fucking guy YOU DON'T GET TO LOOK LIKE THAT WHEN YOU'VE JUST DONE THAT.
sorry. I keep writing things that make me angry and then act like i didn't literally make it up myself.

As always, let me know what you think, I enjoy reading your comments so much xx