As you undoubtedly know by now, tracking Percy Jackson’s family lineage can get a bit messy. At least on his father’s side.

If you really want to climb the Olympian family tree all the way to the top, you will inevitably come across some very nasty fruit—namely, the Titans, a.k.a. the all-powerful deities who came before the Greek gods we all know and love.

If you’re anything like us, your primary point of reference for the Titans rhymes with “The Shmattle of Shmanhattan.” After trying, and failing, to overthrow Olympus a few years ago, the Titans aren’t exactly the most popular race of immortals within demigod circles. Even if a few poor souls still believe that the Titan Army “made a few good points.”

The diplomatic breakdown between the Titans and the Olympians is literally ancient history, and most of the blame falls on the Titan king Kronos (rest in pieces, Bozo).

But you know what they say: beside every great malevolent Titan of destruction there stands an equally powerful and influential life partner. We are, of course, talking about the rarely seen Titaness of motherhood, fertility, and comfort: Rhea.

Unlike her husband, Rhea doesn’t seem like the type to wage war against her children and grandchildren. Quite the opposite, in fact. From everything we’ve heard, her life mostly consists of pottery classes, brunches, and advocating for women’s rights around the world. She’s even loved and admired by some of the same children and grandchildren her husband sought to annihilate.

Call us ageist if you must, but as far as we’re concerned, something’s not adding up. Let’s trace Rhea’s history and recent appearances in the mortal realm to see if we can learn whether she can truly be trusted . . .

Mythical Mama

To understand where Rhea stands in modern times, we must go back to her earliest days. She was the second of the twelve Titan children born to Gaea and Ouranos. And if you think the Titans treated their Olympian children poorly, the Protogenoi parents of the Titans quite literally put their kids through hell. Seriously. Ouranos threw his three Cyclopes and three Hekatonkheires into Tartarus before their first day of kindergarten.

And what was Gaea’s response? She recruited her Titan children to stage a revolt against Ouranos and murder him. You see? Bad behavior is taught at an early age.

Unlike Kronos and the other vengeful Titan children, Rhea never believed that violence was the answer. While her siblings were plotting the death of her father, Rhea took up a new hobby: cultivating the earth. She even planted the Grove of Dodona, don’t you know.

It’s a bit sad that in a family filled with patricide and filicide, the eldest daughter chose gardening as her act of teenage rebellion. And Rhea’s relationship with her siblings would only get stranger as the years went on.

You May Now Miss the Bride

According to the myths, Rhea’s life of peace and harmony is what caught Kronos’s attention when he felt it was time to take a bride. Maybe the crooked Titan believed that he too could live a life of ease and comfort after finally defeating his evil father. Perhaps he thought that Rhea’s kind and gentle soul would soothe the bitter rage he had always felt in his heart.

The real question is, why did Rhea agree to marry him? She could have done so much better. Like, say, anyone who wasn’t her brother!

Either way, Rhea and Kronos tied the knot and lived in marital bliss . . . for about five minutes until —you guessed it—the cycle of immortal deities attempting to destroy their children continued.

Despite a lack of enthusiasm on her husband’s part, Rhea gave birth to her six-pack of pride and joy: Hestia, Demeter, Hera, Hades, Poseidon, and Zeus. While she viewed her children as perfect little angels, Kronos was already sharpening the knives—and preheating the oven.

The Kids Menu

Kronos, driven mad by the belief that he had been cursed by his own father, devoured five of his offspring before they could rise up and usurp his rule over the planet. Familial curse or self-fulfilling prophecy? You decide!

Horrified by her husband’s actions, Rhea did everything in her power to save her children and protect them from her husband’s wrath. She hid her youngest baby, Zeus, in Crete and fooled Kronos into eating a stone wrapped in a blanket instead of their son. When Zeus grew up, he forced Kronos to regurgitate his siblings, and the six banded together to bring Daddy down.

As someone whose primary strengths derived from love and tranquility, Rhea couldn’t do much physically against Kronos. Instead, she instilled in her children the strength to stand up for themselves and defeat their corrupt father on their own terms and establish their own dominion over the mortal world.

When the age of the Titans came to a close, Rhea continued to support her offspring and their new, experimental ruling structure in an advisory role. Rhea consulted with and guided the Olympians as they learned the ins and outs of godhood.

“Poseidon, sweetie, I’m sorry for your loss, but you of all gods should know that horses can’t breathe underwater.”

“Hera, honey, you can’t destroy an entire city simply because one demigod bit you.”

“Hades, baby, I know you like her, but perhaps she would feel more comfortable if you asked her out to coffee first? Okay, fine . . . but at least tidy up the place a bit before she arrives.”

The Lion Queen

Once the Olympians got their bearings (and got tired of Mom supervising their every decision), Rhea quietly retreated into retirement, choosing to spend time with her loyal lion companions. She retreated so much, in fact, that she kept to herself during the recent attacks from Kronos and Gaea.

But Rhea hasn’t been totally inactive in the modern age. In addition to curing Dionysus of his madness (now you know who to blame, demigods), Rhea helped her grandson Apollo during his quest to prevent the evil Roman Trimuverate from achieving world domination.

Just don’t expect Rhea to lend a helping hand all the time. Most days, she isn’t even sure which century she’s in. Not that she’s senile or anything. The years tend to blur together when you’ve been alive since before the Gregorian calendar was invented. That said, as seen in The Chalice of the Gods, Rhea never misses the annual brunch that Zeus hosts in her honor. And if any of Zeus’s cupbearers object to Rhea being accompanied by her large “emotional support cats,” odds are that they will never be heard from again.

So, what do you think? Is Rhea the rare Titaness who possesses a pure heart and unconditional love for her children? Or do you think that maybe, just maybe she takes after her mother and was more responsible for the bloody conflicts between the Titans and the Olympians than she lets on? Should her progeny revere her . . . or fear her?

We have our own theories, but to avoid the risk of random lightning strikes or lion attacks, we’re going to keep them to ourselves.