Just a short drabble inspired by the discovery that Apollo and Artemis are not the only twins on Mount Olympus. As usual, I have written a Percy Jackson and the Olympians fanfic because of it, and it takes places roughly within the fifth book. It has been a while since I've read it, but I do like how this little thing turned out, despite my scetchy time-frame. I hope you'll forgive my lack of placement ithin the series, and I hope that you enjoy it. Please tell me if there's something to improve upon.
The Other Twins
She smiled at him, her brother, and the two clinked glasses in celebration. Their plan, after thousands of years of planning, had finally come to fuition. The gods warred with their parents again, and they had caused chaos within the hearts of their children. Eris laughed. She had not had so much fun since the golden apple.
Of course, her brother had. She envied him for that. He had so much more than she. A seat at the table in Olympus; a cabin at Camp Half-Blood; he even had Aphrodite, the goddess of love; and his side was the winning one. Therefore, she had devised this plan. A plan to further cast Olympus into chaos while she played both sides of the war. She watched as he took a sip. The poison wouldn't kill him, but it would knock him unconscious, and then she could chop him into little pieces and take his position at their father's table. She, his twin, would take the god of war's place, and then she would kill all of his children, perhaps with her own. Ooh, that would make a nice addition to chaos. She would send them to take over the Ares Cabin at Camp Half-Blood, and then she would relish in the spilled blood and chaos within their hearts as redness soaked their hands for the first time.
She shuddered with pleasure at this fantasy as her twin downed his drink. She sipped her own, and she watched as he began choking, gagging as he fell onto the floor. Eris stretched out on the couch, calmly watching as he writhed on the floor. His fiery eyes smoldered in her direction when he figured out what she'd done, and she regretted the lack of chaos within him. He, who was constantly at war, never felt the thrill of inner chaos. It was truly lamentable. Nevertheless, it was time for him to be chopped up and thrown down next to their grandfather. She drew her sword, celestial bronze glinting as she raised it over her head, and then she found an arrow in her shoulder. Crying out, she whirled around, roaring in outrage. Who dared interrupt her plans?
It was Apollo, his golden bow drawn, his face the darkest she had ever seen it. He was enraged. Infuriated. And he was coming for her. He drew another of the golden arrows, and pulled the bowstring taut. Knowing that these were the arrows that brought excruciating pain upon death to humans, she dropped, allowing the arrow to graze the crown of her head as she did. Ooh, this was fun. But not quite chaotic enough. No, she would have to withdraw in order to confuse him. Technically, she could still win this if she got close enough, but that would be predictable, and Apollo knew predictable. Her plans would have to wait. So she stood, bowed grandly, and ripped the arrow out of her shoulder, throwing it back as golden ichor poured from her wound. Laughing at the future she planned, she fled Olympus, waiting for her next opportunity.