Zeus had chosen his bride. The only thing was, his bride was having absolutely nothing to do with him… impetuous Goddess. Hadn’t he been the only God to be able to stand against their father Cronus? Hadn’t he, in fact, rescued her from the belly of their father? Wasn’t he the strongest and most brilliant of all the Gods ruling on Mount Olympus?

Slowly his anger turned to amusement and pleasure though; for the fact that Hera still refused to wed him despite all these things was why he loved her. Unlike the others, she was not enamored of him for any of those reasons, vowing to marry only when she truly loved. Well that was fine, all he had to do was find some way to make her truly love him! And who could not love such a one as Zeus, the finest of the Greek Gods?

So for the banquet that night, held in honor of the Goddess’ beauty – with Hera given the seat of honor at his right hand – Zeus was carefully prepared. All her favorite foods had been made, her favorite entertainments prepared, and he himself was magnificent in all his glory. His skin was oiled and his hair perfumed, his hair was braided with gold, gold adorned his wrists and ankles and his tunic was made of the softest down. Everything about him said power and beauty, the most terrible and wonderful being in all creation.

He walked in to trumpets and singing, smiling widely as he approached the head table, sure of a better reception. Zeus’ steps faltered as he saw Hera’s cold face, but only for a moment. Then he forced himself forward, sure that she was just play-acting so that he could be seen to win her over in front of the multitudes gathered.

The highest of the Greek Gods had never been more misled.

The frustrated God spent the entire feast trying to coax a smile from Hera’s face, something that failed miserably with each attempt. By the end of the feast he was incredibly angry, nothing had stirred her towards even the slightest positive feeling towards him. As she got up and started out of the hall, he suddenly sprang to his feet, roaring.

“WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU WOMAN?” he stood trembling with his intense anger.

Coldly, Hera turned back to look at him, “Nothing. But there is plenty wrong with you.”

The guests tittered as they tried to play off her icy words, Zeus stood at the head table completely aghast and his mouth working soundlessly as she left the room.


“She wants you to work for it,” the minor deity whispered in the confused and frustrated God’s ear, “She refuses to be a passing fancy for you, or even a wife that will be put off to the side as soon as you find another interesting Goddess. You must win her over somehow, surprise her… and promise to make her the Queen of the Gods.”

Well the second part was no problem, Zeus knew that there was not another Goddess anywhere that had the allure for him that Hera did – and certainly not one that would have the strength to be Queen at his right hand. She was powerful and majestic, perfect to sit beside him and rule… but how to surprise her?


For the next few weeks Hera received at least ten gifts a day, rare and beautiful things, all with notes about her own beauty and grace. But not one invitation, not one request to see her… just many many beautiful and wonderful gifts that touched her heart no matter how she tried not to show it. Then the gifts began to dwindle, although they became even more rare and amazing, there were less of them. And still no invitation or request… the beautiful, proud Goddess was confused and starting to feel somewhat anxious. Although Zeus frustrated her, and she knew that he would be unfaithful, she did love him. She had hoped that having to work for her hand, rather than surrendering it freely, would make him value her more… now she worried that she’d taken it too far.

One day when no gifts had arrived, she walked through the gardens in the afternoon, feeling somewhat despondent. It was a perfect afternoon, flowers blooming with their sweet fragrances filling the air, birds chirping, the sun waved down at her from his fiery chariot. Hera sighed at her gloomy feelings that went so ill with the beauty of the day.

Suddenly a small sparrow flew towards her, its flight limping as something was wrong with its wing… meeping piteously it flew straight at her and she opened her arms to catch it, cooing sympathy at its awkward flight. In her hands it meeped in pain, its wing at a strange angle and she forgot her own downcast feelings as she was faced with a creature in need of help. Whispering softly to the injured bird she lifted it to her lips for a healing kiss.

Instead of a feathery head under her lips, she received a soft and passionate returning kiss… she no longer held up a bird, instead her arms were around the waist of Zeus, and he pulled her closer in to kiss him. For a moment she fought, angry at his trick, but his kiss caressed along with his hands and she felt herself melting against him.

His hands pushed the clothes from her body, he was already wonderfully nude, standing in all his glory in front of her, pressing up against her. Hera was drowning in desire for him, and she could feel his heavy desire for her, pent up from weeks of a frustrating chase. Her lips curved against his as she realized just how frustrating it had been for him. Then he bore her down to the ground, his need urgent and demanding.

It was the first time that a male had ever held dominion over her when making love, and Hera found it both terrifying and exhilarating. He was hard on top of her and inside her, pressing in with all his pent-up lust. Crying out beneath him in surprise and desire, Hera arched up against him, his hands caressing her breasts as his mouth came down on her swollen nipple. It was strange to be underneath him, to feel him moving on top of her, controlling everything; strange, and yet wonderful.

She felt very feminine, accepting, taking him into her and increasing his pleasure with the tightening clasp of her body, massaging him as he thrust in and out of her. Moans filled the garden air as she responded with ardent passion, her sweet surrender both surprising and delighting him. They moved in rhythm, sighing and delighting in each other. Zeus’ movements remained firm but he became more gentle as his need to have her slowed, and they began to caress each other, taking the time to get to know the other’s body.

Their lips were full of ambrosia as they kissed, lips moving over each other’s shoulders and chest, soft moans and surprised cries as they discovered sensitive spots. Eventually Zeus could feel his ardor rising again, and he began to thrust without abandon, taking pleasure in her body as she cried out beneath him at the renewed onslaught. Hera clutched at him, her hands tightening on his shoulders as she began to tremble beneath him, her orgasm rushing over her like a tidal wave.

As she quivered beneath him, the tight clasp of her sheathe vibrating around him, Zeus groaned and pushed all the way into her body, holding her tightly against his chest as he filled her with divine seed. Hera gasped and panted as her orgasm dwindled, the hazy afterglow of pleasure descending.

They both lay there in the garden, idly stroking each other’s body and hair.

“Will you be mine, Hera?” Zeus whispered in her hair, “Be my Queen…”

“Yes.” she whispered back, her hands running over his shoulders, “For always.”