A/N: I know many of you are sick of Pertemis stories, especially those that make Percy as the guardian of the Hunt or Artemis, which is ridiculous. There's a goddess, Artemis, one of the Olympians there. Do they need anymore protection? And for Zeus' sake, the girls are trained well enough, they can fight and have wold guardians - their parents are gods and might love them, they can send help once in a while can't they? - so they DON'T NEED Any guardian.

That's it. Rant Over.

Hope you enjoy the story... and review!

Love Comes Full Circle.

Chapter One: Tales From The Frontier.

Aphrodite gazes thoughtfully at her granddaughter—her only legacy sired by Eros and the former Lieutenant of Artemis Thalia Grace's granddaughter—who is staring up at her from under her covers, anticipating patiently for her caretaker to tell her a bedtime story. Contrary to popular's belief, Aphrodite cares deeply for her legacies and demigod children; having constantly visiting them, it's just that they didn't know that. A rare frown mars the goddess of love's immaculately beautiful face as she contemplates what kind of story should she tell her granddaughter.

"Well?" Diane Grace probes studying her grandmother's—though she doesn't know it is her grandmother, merely referring as an aunt—face as to why there is so much trouble to tell her one story.

Aphrodite wipes away the frown and smiles at her granddaughter. "Would you like a love story?"

Diane wrinkles her nose, unconsciously reminding Aphrodite of her step-sister/foster sister, of Artemis' blatant display of distaste whenever she talked about love. Diane says, "Those mushy, mushy stuff? Ew... no... how about a story of Greek heroes?"

Aphrodite rolls her eyes at Diane's tomboyish-ness. "This is a mixture of both love and bravery." The goddess of love continues on when she sees Diane opening her mouth to protest. "It concerns your namesake."

Diane's eyes lights up. "You mean the mood goddess Artemis?"

"Yes," Aphrodite says, nodding solemnly. "Don't you want to know how or why she fade?"

"Because of love," Diane reminds her sullenly but then it disappears to be replace by a fiery pride in her eyes. "Which is why I decided to swear of men forever!"

The girl no older than eight makes Aphrodite sees her as Artemis; she vaguely wonders whether or not is this girl Artemis' reincarnation. The love goddess blinks away the faint, dim memory of the former moon goddess and concentrates instead, on her granddaughter's yellow-grey eyes, skin as pale as the moon, glowing with a faint mystical hue as a sliver of moonlight that now falls under Hecate's jurisdiction slipped through the veil of curtains and the light colored fire hair, curled locks that she inherited from her grandmother (Aphrodite resists the urge to smile; her legacies resembles their godly parent or at times, looks neither like their parents, a trait since every individual's beauty is different and thus, her children stands out on their own with their own looks inherited from none, same goes for her legacies).

She smiles indulgently, "Why?" she asks though she knows very well why.

"Because of what happened to Lady Artemis, a man ruined her didn't he?"

"Half credit, Diane," Aphrodite says gently. "It was love that made Artemis did what she did."

"Which is why it's stupid," Diane insists adamantly, unwilling to give up. "Nothing you say will convince me of this!"

"Petulant child," Aphrodite says though there is no real fire in her words. "Maybe this story will convince you."

"Of Artemis and... who's that guy again?" Diane's eyebrows furrowed, an adorable habit of hers that Apollo says Artemis has when she is a very, very young goddess. Apollo that had seen Diane when once, he's riding his chariot and sees a girl that looks so much like his twin sister that it hurts. Diane tells Aphrodite of the weird man, of how he tries to ask her about the stories of Artemis. Which eventually leads to Diane's obsession with Greek mythology and the goddess Artemis.

"The reincarnation of Orion—"

"That jerk."

"Hush—no foul words now," Aphrodite chides softly but sternly. "As I was saying, the man's the reincarnation of Orion or so many people believe since he, as Artemis describes him, is a complete replica of that man. But in the myths and all the stories told, his name in this story is Perseus Jackson..."

PxA

Artemis had never ever pities Atlas when he was trapped under the burden of the sky. But now, a part of her—which was very small by the way, as small as a microorganism felt some sorry for him. Artemis had never had empathy for males, only for females. But now, she felt some kind of empathy connection with Atlas for the pain that he must felt when he was under the weight of the sky. Artemis had never ever admired a male but Orion. But now, she very grudgingly admired Atlas, even a little, for how long he'd last under the weight of the heavens and can still whine and shout curses at the gods.

Artemis couldn't even see straight, much less talk. Even a measly grunt was incapable of drawing itself out of her mouth. She blinked the metallic bead of sweat that got into her eyes and focused her line of sight in front of her to keep herself from passing out. The Titans were too powerful to fade, but she could.

There were other deities connected to the moon after all.

"Well, well, the proud moon goddess crumbling under the weight of the sky."

Artemis lifted her head as high as she could, her eyes narrowed into a scorching glare as they searched for the man that had spoken—the voice was low-pitched, definitely a male, she as a patron of young girls can tell.

Unfortunately, the man was standing, not crouching down to her level like the monsters do to mock her so she could only see the man's feet. She glared at it, wishing that it'll catch fire. Usually, not bound and trapped under the weight of the sky, one glare from her can make any mortal man burst into fire. But the chains restricted her powers so her glare was about as harmless a kitten.

Artemis gritted her teeth against the pain and managed to spit out, "Get lost." It came out a lot weaker sounding than she would've liked. And for that, she glared harder at the man's feet as if it was his fault.

The man chuckled and an odd feeling surfaced in Artemis. That voice, that chuckle was familiar. So familiar that it hurts. The memory of him was still clear as day in her mind, just below the surface. She blinked away the tears that had gathered from the pain, stress, burden, humiliation and the sadness of that memory.

"Is that an order, milady?" that male voice was teasing and light-hearted, mellifluous to the ears. As pleasant as his voice—why did this man suddenly reminded Artemis so much of his traits?

Artemis didn't answer.

She heard the man sigh and heard, rather than see his knees bend into a crouch to see her.

She gasped the moment his sea-green eyes—oh as beautiful and luminous as his—widened.

Deep down, Artemis had to admit that she still love Orion despite what the myths said. And when she met the treacherous son of Poseidon, bearing the weight of the sky, she could only say one thing: "Orion?"

PxA