Seven Tin Soldiers

Prologue

She heard the muffled voices. "But," suddenly the words were hard to heard again, "merely a man." That voice in particular chilled her. Ares.

"Perhaps," The possibility of eavesdroppers apparently had never entered Zeus's head. Hestia hadn't missed a word of what he'd said, he didn't speak so much as bellow. There was a pause. "She is lovely."

Hestia was generally content with her station in life, and alone among gods possessed a genuine sweetness with most, but nervousness when it came to her incredibly powerful and willful relatives. She was no fool, but also lacked the calculating and selfish minds of most of the rest of the Greek pantheon. She tended the hearth of Olympus and had not quit her post in millenia. Thus, she had been worshipped and loved by all who had similar duties for thousands of years. None of her family, with few exceptions that thankfully included her mother, had bothered to get to know her well enough to realize that behind this seemingly mindless beloved thing there was a perfectly good, if underused, brain. They considered her dull, mocked her almost as much as poor crippled Hephaestus.

Suddenly Ares was speaking, but softly. She only caught the very last word, "Themiscyra."

Her stomach understood the implications of what she'd just heard shortly before her head did, it began doing strange flips and clenching. She thought about what she knew of both arrogant Zeus and devious Ares, and in mere seconds it all came together. Hestia tensed for a moment…Surely even Ares was not so…wicked? Then she sighed to herself, and began poking at the hot coals in their divine forge. Of course he was. He was family, and she loved him, but he could no more help his nature than the sky could its color. Now that she considered it Zeus had not done anything genuinely moronic in a few centuries, so perhaps he was making up for lost time...

Still.

She had to tell…someone…Had to get word to Hippolyta. Perhaps…something could be done? Maybe this didn't have to happen.

Softly, knowing he would hear, she whispered, "Hermes?"

He appeared in the next moment, looking bored. "Well, if it isn't little Hestia. What can I do for you? Package to be delivered? Need a skilled lyre player to serenade that special someone?"

Carefully, she grabbed a parchment and pen out of thin air--one of the perks of divinity--and scrawled down a message. "I need this to make it to Hippolyta intact."

"Of course," said Hermes lazily, and looked her in the eye, his expression almost a challenge, "For her eyes only, I presume?"

Hestia shrugged, pleased with how little effort it took to keep her face neutral, to conceal the lie with her eyes. "Just women's chatter. Sing it to the skies and trees, if you like."

Hermes bored expression returned. He sighed, and disappeared without another word.

It took Hestia ten minutes to control her shaking.

A/N- Okay, so this is going to be both my first mainly action fic and first extended story. So please leave me some comments and criticism. Really, I'll take anything.