Althanea was hanging up the coven's laundry to dry when the Goddess spoke to her.
Are you just going to harbor the girl like this, teach her to enhance her powers as if nothing ever happened?
Althanea continued hanging up the clothing. "We're providing the same aid we would provide to any who would come to us for help, Mother. Our oaths demand no less of us. Would you have us be forsworn?"
She tried to destroy your world, My child.
"I am aware of Miss Rosenberg's history," Althanea said, putting an empty basket into another and pulling a full basket closer to herself.
And yet you do nothing?
"What would You have me do? Kill the girl?"
It is not unthinkable. She is a danger to your world.
"There is nothing in this world which is not a danger to it." She picked up a white garment—one of the younger witches' camisoles. I could wrap this cloth around a mortal's neck and kill her with it. Or she can use it to protect her skin from the sun. The balance is fragile, delicate. Do I really need to tell You this, Mother?
Of course not.
"Good," Althanea said, hanging up the camisole.
But if you wished to kill such a mortal, there are more effective means at your disposal than a young girl's undershirt.
"I don't want to kill her. Nor Willow Rosenberg. There will be no killing of any sort today. Understand?"
Why do you speak aloud to Me? If you continue like this, someone will think you touched.
"What will they do to me then, Mother, burn me as a witch?" She did her best to project her impatience into the Otherworld. I do need to finish this laundry before the sun sets.
I do not understand you, daughter. An Olympian and a daughter of Hecate, and yet you choose to do laundry?
You have aptly demonstrated on so many occasions that You do not understand me, Mother, that the sentiment hardly requires repeating. And yet I have made my choice. Even a Goddess of Olympus cannot deny me that right. She paused, and turned her eyesight to the rising moon in the east. This is not like You, Mother, to worry over a single mortal, no matter how powerful.
Osiris fears her.
Osiris fears all that He cannot understand, Althanea chided. I have never known You to be so narrow-minded, or to fear the darkness. You thrive upon it.
What if He is right? asked Hecate. She has the power to upset your precious equilibrium. In truth, she has already done so. Now you are teaching her to be stronger than ever.
Althanea sighed as she put up the final piece of laundry and stacked the last basket. Do You know what is the trouble with the gods, Mother? They have no need for faith. All shall be as it shall be. It is only for each of us to play her own small role. If Your rôle is to move against Willow Rosenberg, so mote it be. Just don't expect to use me to do it. Find another of Your worshippers for that.
Althanea stepped across her threshold with one look back at the rising moon. "Good night, Mother," she said. "And blessed be."
And somewhere in the Otherworld, a two-faced god smiled. Twice.
Disclaimer: Buffy the Vampire Slayer, including its characters and events, belongs to Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy, and is borrowed by me. Hecate, Osiris, and Janus belong to Themselves but are borrowed by Mutant Enemy and by myself. May They take mercy on our souls.