"Falling in love and having a relationship are two different things." Keanu Reeves
" Ah … Lady Artemis. To what do I owe the pleasure?"
Hearing her name, the distracted fog in the Huntress's mind lifts. Her eyes, staring into the distance, clear as she identifies the speaker.
"Calypso," asserts the goddess tentatively. Her senses are telling her that yes, the caramel colored hair and the cinnamon scent is that of the marooned Titan. Or rather, that of the formerly marooned Titan.
But it is in the eyes that Artemis truly recognizes her - without the familiar eyes, Artemis feels she would have failed to recognize Calypso in the first place. The dark almond irises that echo that of Atlas's … Artemis's arms twinge from the ghost of a weight beyond worlds.
But also the same intense eyes of her old lieutenant's. It would not do to forget that.
The former convict stands between her and the refreshments table that threads the center of the throne room. The nectar is right there, right behind the woman that is dressed not in the Ancient Greek attire of ages past, but in modern mortal party clothing. Rather … vibrant party clothing. The bright gold and fluorescent white clothing complement Calypso well in the way it is cut to reveal her body, but it's an unsettling sight. It is odd, seeing the Titan in clothing so contemporary.
And there's just some niggling feeling in the back of Artemis's mind that tells her that Calypso is … different, that she's changed. That she's now lacking something important, something essential that the goddess can't place to being exactly what.
Artemis's gaze locks with Calypso's. She remains standing where she is for a few more uneasy seconds, waiting for the Titaness to react. When her opponent's eyes finally flicker away, Artemis walks around Calypso to the table she'd been heading to and lightly cusps a goblet of golden fluid.
However, Artemis doesn't hear Calypso walk away. She sighs internally, preparing for the dreaded social interaction. This can't last too long.
"Just here for a drink," the goddess of the moon comments after another moment of silence. She takes a short sip of nectar. Mmm. There's ... hm. The milk chocolate is bold, sweet, maybe a touch too strong? But the hint of vanilla amidst the smooth texture of pastry is just right. Not the usual, and the flavors aren't what she expects from the 'universal flavor' drink, but the sweet surprise is a welcome one.
Her unplanned companion turns along to the table and faces her, left hand fluttering onto the table before selecting a drink of her own. "I do suppose that was awfully presumptive of me. After all, we had no prior standing relationship. You had only visited me on Ogygia … thrice, I believe."
Artemis hums noncommittally, moving along to an unoccupied area of the table to rest her backside comfortably onto the table. "Your home was beautiful, but it was not for my particular … taste. I'm sure you understand."
"Of course," Calypso agrees before silence prevails again. Well, not silence. The Muses are performing, after all. Artemis takes in the last few silky strains of melodious jazz bubbling over the conversational ambience surrounding them. But when the chords resolve, she alters her preference to mute all sounds unwanted and sighs imperceptibly with relief at the absence of distracting noise.
"So … you're free." The goddess says half-heartedly, There's little else to do while she waits, ever so anxious for what's to come. Her eyes are preoccupied, surveying the celebration around them.
"That I am," Calypso nods, and Artemis senses the Titaness getting comfortable beside her.
"Wait …" Artemis finally focuses her attention on Calypso as a single forgotten fact, unbidden, returns to the forefront of her mind. "Who freed you? I don't quite recall any of the gods or goddesses …"
"Ah ... that. Your memory serves you well, Artemis. You are correct - no god or goddess attempted to retrieve me from my … home." The former prisoner's expression, though, is not as bitter as Artemis expects. Instead, it's very much as if the Titaness is laughing at her, eyes alight with some inside joke. "No, it was a demigod who did the work of the gods." She brings her cup up to her lips, but pauses and glances sideways towards Artemis to finish her last remark. "Just as per usual, hm?"
The Huntress frowns, unsure if Calypso means to imply an insult. And wasn't the last hero to land on the island ... "Perseus Jackson?"
Artemis catches the slightest twitch of an eyelid and a grimace from Calypso before the Titaness smothers her instinctive reaction with a giggle. "After a sort, I suppose. He started it, but Leo Valdez was the one to finish the process."
Taking another draft of nectar, Artemis tries to place the name with the face, before arriving at the twitchy-fingered mechanic who had visited Delos. Her left hand flexes into a claw as she recalls her annoyance with the roars, shrieks, and screams made by the atrocious mechanical device her brother kept fooling around with.
She forces herself to relax. Thinking of Apollo wouldn't do any good. Though thinking of island homes … "So what is to be of Ogygia, with you gone?"
Calypso hums, absent and lost in her memories. "It'll be lost, I suppose. Until my dear Leo tries to find it again. But I doubt we'll return - the world has certainly changed much since I'd left it, and I'd rather explore the new than chase after the old with what time that I have."
"The time that you … have?" Artemis puts down her goblet and turns to actually scrutinize the Titaness for the first time. "That's what has changed," Artemis gasps as her mind spins from the revelation. "You're mortal."
"That I am too," Calypso nods, as if the matter is of no importance whatsoever. "You are very perceptive - your reputation as the Huntress is well deserved. The only other to notice outside of the dozens I've spoken to thus far was Hestia."
Artemis finds it difficult to respond, with her mind still buzzing over the Titaness's - no, the mortal's - confession. "Yes, yes. It is … interesting to have a reputation."
A loud cry from behind them, across the table, draws their attention. "Sunshine! Look who I found!"
The two women rise and turn around, and Artemis takes a step back as Calypso gasps in surprise. "Oh! Percy!" Silence falls within the group. Then, Calypso reaches across the table to clasp Percy's hand between hers, bowing and taking a deep breath before speaking. "I am so sorry for the trouble I caused you. Leo told me about it and it is unforgivable and -"
"Hey, hey. It's ok. Water under the bridge." Percy looks carefully at Leo before reversing the position of their hands to allow him to bend over to brush his lips over Calypso's hand. "And really, I needed that wake-up call, so thank you. I should have made sure the Olympians followed through on their promise." Percy's eyes dart towards Artemis momentarily, before returning to Calypso. "And thanks for all the other things from before that too, again. My mother has twenty-some pots of moonlace around the apartment. And you two are an awesome couple."
Artemis remains silent, squashing the rebellious feeling of aggravation stirring in her chest. Leo, on the other hand … "Yeah, and don't you know that means hands off, water boy?"
Percy releases Calypso's hand and smirks at Leo, then straightens up and looks back to Calypso. "And, I think, most of all, thanks for helping take care of this idiot. He definitely needed plenty of help before, and if anything he needs someone more than ever to make sure he doesn't blow himself up."
Calypso ignores Leo's indignant squawk and smiles back at Percy. "Of course. Why, just the other day, my babe, he-" Leo vaults over the table to shove his hands over Calypso's mouth. The former Titaness shakes with muted laughter and pries off his hand to continue speaking. "Sadly, that's a story for another time, I believe. It's good to see you again, Son of the Sea."
"Same. But I think you deal with Mr. Touchy now, so I'll be off. Leo - suck it up, man." The mechanic sticks his tongue out at Percy. "Cute. And, conveniently-" Percy turns to Artemis. "Luna! You look beautiful! Wow!" He tilts his head towards the end of the table a good dozen yards away. "Shall we?"
Artemis chances a glance back to Calypso and Leo before accompanying Percy away. The curious look that Calypso gives the back of Percy's head as he walks away unnerves her.
She'd been talking with Calypso as Artemis, but Percy waltzed in and called her Luna. The former Titaness is bound to be confused. What conclusions will she draw? Will she say anything? Is there going to any problems? Is she so easily confused to be Artemis when she intends to be Luna, and vice versa? Was it that way at the actual council meeting? Was Percy there to see it and did he connect the dots on who 'Luna' was?
As she meets up with Percy at the end of the drinks table, she forces herself to calm down before looking into his eyes. Deep, slow, breath, answer her own questions. Overall, age and appearance are of no consequence to immortals, but many did find a niche 'setting' to keep, and eventually be known for that. Most others recognize Artemis based on her contrasting age and maturity. But Calypso wouldn't have used those factors to identify Artemis, especially age, due to their lack of major interactions before. Calypso had most likely deciphered her identity by judging other less visible factors.
Her usual form … the only big difference when comparing that and her persona of Luna now is the age difference. On the other hand, the gradual appearance change and physical growth of 4 teenage years are stark. Moreover, earlier she had been in giant size while the council held court on the thrones (however inconvient and pointless it was to be so large so for little time), so being recognized off that form is unlikely. That, and she'd worn the usual silver robes and sandals that she'd always worn for council meetings, and then changed her get up to a tastefully silver trimmed black dress and slip-ons. Wearing so much silver would've been the equivalent of wearing a neon sign.
On a larger scale, beyond Calypso, no one would likely see a relation between earlier and now.
Artemis deduces with reasonable surity that she won't be mistaken for the "wrong" person again. Especially because she's here as Luna.
But as to what Calypso would do …. well, there's no way to tell what she will do. Hopefully, the Titaness will keep quiet about possible concerns. There's nothing Artemis can do about Calypso, so she can only move on to other questions.
But the most important question remains unanswered. Would Percy by any chance decipher who she really was? Artemis looks into Percy's eyes, taking in the marvelous green hues. "It's nice to see you in person again."
"That it is," Percy agrees. "Sorry it took so long to meet up. I helped Mom and Paul take care of Daphne for a bit, so I didn't get to Empire State until like 10 o'clock. The security guard is still a bunch of trouble, though. It took me almost another hour to get past him. And then I realized we never set up a place to meet, but before I could call you Leo popped up, then, well, you know the rest."
Well, that conveniently answers her last panicked question. "Actually, wasn't he the Seven that died?"
Percy laughs and gestures toward an empty table. "Long story. Wanna sit and talk?"
"How about just give me the short version and we do something else?" the goddess suggests. She gently takes his hand starts walking backward, tugging him to the dance floor.
She wants to delve into the feelings of this new experience. The goddess doesn't want to miss a chance.
Contrary to Artemis's desires, Percy stops in his tracks. The demigod shakes his head, a smile on his face the whole time. "So fast? Let me get some food for breakfast first at least, I didn't eat anything yet."
"Really? It's almost noon." Percy nods emphatically in response. Artemis pouts, but takes his arm and pulls up to his side. "Fine. Brunch, I suppose. Tell me about Leo, then. And Daphne."
From her peripheral vision, she sees Percy's eyes widen, and his left arm in her grip jerks ever so slightly - Artemis deduces that he's surprised by how handsy she's being. Tough. She's been anticipating seeing him in person for months. Hell, she's actually been considering the passage of time in days and weeks and months, rather than decades and centuries.
Nevertheless, Percy responds. "Leo IM'd me a few weeks or so ago. Surprised the hell out of me, since he's supposed to be dead, but I got over it pretty fast. Most of the other Seven never believed he died anyways, and it's nice to hope. He said he'd be here today and wanted me to help clear up things with Calypso," explains Percy as he snatches a plate of blue french toast spilling out of a cornucopia.
"And those things were?" she inquires, snatching a few cherries to munch on.
He waits for her to finish and dispose of the seeds on the table (which disappears into thin air immediately). "Nothing big. She just got into a little funk after Leo told her about a few parts of the Seven's adventures."
Everything settled, he escorts Artemis back to a small dining table and sets his food down in order to pull out one of the two chairs for the goddess.
"Thank you." Artemis gathers up the skirt of her dress and sits down. She pushes Percy's food closer to his side of the table as he sits. "And what of Daphne?"
"Oh, she was fussing this morning and I wanted to let Mom sleep, so I changed her diaper and fed her the bottle. Her hair's almost done falling out too, so less clean up - relatively, I mean," comments Percy before picking up utensils (that magically appeared) and digging into his toast.
Ah, yes. It was truly strange to learn how a human child developed. Artemis had been the goddess of childbirth for a time before the role was passed to Eileithyia, but childbirth was and remained an overall narrow topic. She had dealt only with the birth of the child, not the raising of a child. Not to mention that immortals didn't really follow the standard cycle of human growth.
In one Iris Message about two months ago, Percy had answered the call while burping Daphne. It was a very endearing image. Adorable, even. But on that topic, there's been one question she's been meaning to ask, though … "How sweet of you. But a question I've gotten a bit curious about, but always forgot to ask - why did your mother name her Daphne?"
Percy finishes chewing and swallows before speaking up. "Oh, Mom and Paul went through a few names. They even asked me about it, and I helped them bring down the list to two. The other choice was Sophia, but in the end, they just decided she looked more like a Daphne."
"So there wasn't any ..." Artemis searches for the right words. "any intentional meaning behind naming her Daphne?"
"Wha? Oh, you mean - ah, that's why they sounded familiar," exclaims Percy. "The names are from Ancient Greek, right? Wisdom and ... um, the laurel tree?"
"Mhm," hums the goddess in agreement. Daphne, the naiad turned laurel tree, because of the great horny bastard Artemis called her brother. At least the laurel later became symbolically more significant and beautiful than just the extent a female had to go to to avoid being raped. "Daphne's a good name."
The demigod nods emphatically as he polishes off the rest of his plate. Wiping his mouth with a napkin (also magically generated), he stands up. "Shall we?"
"I suppose so," beams Artemis. She lifts her hand for him to take. "Well?"
Percy rolls his eyes, and circles around the table to take her hand. "So demanding."
The goddess pointedly ignores his teasing and rises gracefully. "Aren't you the gentleman?"
The Son of the Sea does look the part. He isn't wearing a suit, perhaps, but he is wearing a rich purple dress shirt, a silver tie, black dress pants, and even shoes that looked the part of dress shoes. While they hadn't attempted to coordinate clothing colors, they'd certainly done a passable job.
Because, well …
Yes, they were on a date.
To a 'dance.'
In Olympus.
On the Summer Solstice.
Yeah … Artemis has no idea what she's doing. No idea at all.
Well, no. She knows perfectly well what she's doing, and she knows it's a terrible idea, and she's doing it anyways.
Because she definitely wants this little thing to happen, even with whatever repercussions that might come.
Sure, the odds of exposure are severely out of her favor in the throne room, even if other gods can potentially recognize them. Calypso sensing her identity isn't a good sign, but the former Titan is likely an exception. Most of the various gods and goddesses are probably relying on the five basic senses and wouldn't realize Artemis was with Percy, on, well, on a date.
And hopefully, the date factor would work its magic in helping cover her identity. With her reputation, no one would expect her present herself to be four years older than usual, wearing largely black clothing, and practically draped over a male.
And the … male, part. It hadn't really been her intentions to have a date. But she couldn't think of a plausible way to deny Percy's invitation to get together at the Summer Solstice. Solstices always come first in demigod life, so there was really no other event for her to say she had to go to that took priority. After all, the main meeting practically required the presence of every demigod in the camps. And sure, neither of them had technically enjoyed the Winter Solstice festivals after the event, but they had still gone to it. The fact that neither of them had stayed afterward only further convinced Percy that they should experience it together.
Though … deep down, in the depths of her soul, she very much wants to spend time with Perseus Jackson. The man who'd proven his worth, saved the world (twice!), mended her heart, and stolen her fancy for at least if not more than the past half year and some.
Being here with Perseus is worth the risk.
The hero endeared himself to her with the every increasing number of calls. Since the … alcoholic incident with … Martha dying, the amount of IMs between them had spiked from once in two weeks, to once a week, to almost every other day. She'd even been the one to initiate about a third of those calls.
It was a quiet revelation, being able to gradually understand and absorb the tendencies of a person, and admire his virtually pure soul. Not fully pure, perhaps, but almost. And being able to share a little about herself (to the best of her ability within the boundaries she'd set for herself by pretending to be mortal) was like finally releasing a breath she'd been holding for centuries.
She honestly couldn't remember the last time she'd comfortably shared her thoughts and self to someone. Not even her Hunt - there, she'd been an idol. Not distant, maybe, familiar and somewhat sociable, but placed on a pedestal and a step removed. Treated not like a fellow person, but … a god. Alien, without the same wants and needs.
How ironic.
Gods be damned, she'd been the first one to call the 'meetup' that he'd suggested a 'date.' Perseus had only ever said 'hang out' or "meet up" before she'd called it a date.
Artemis, goddess of the Hunt, sworn eternal virgin, and hater of man - going on a date.
Oops.
But as Luna …?
Well, it's the first date for the little lady from Rome, so best to make a perfect memory to last the ages.
They make their way onto the dance floor, weaving around cha-cha lines and worms and break dances and planks and grinds and twerks to a more subdued corner.
"Do I even want to know what those guys over there are listening to?" asks Percy. Artemis turns her head to see and blinks at the sight of a group of assorted demigods, gods, and other beings rocking their heads back and forth at a stupendous rate. The violent motions send their long hair flying everywhere; their hands were either up in the air punching with an unheard beat or playing guitars that simply didn't exist.
Artemis shrugs eloquently. "Likely metal. Music can be weird." Evidence: her brother, the embodiment of music in a (not so) holy being.
"I guess? What about what you're listening to?" Percy's second question draws Artemis's attention back to him, and the most adorable expression of confusion falls upon his face as he 'listens in.' "Why is it so quiet? Did all the other noise people were making just get erased? Shit, you can do that?"
"Magic can do wonderful things, can't it?" Artemis comments rhetorically. "Destructive sound waves - the use of sound to cancel out other sounds."
"So you can make it so you can only hear the people you're having a conversation with? Damn, I've been missing out!" Percy exclaims as he looks over the crowd. "It's really weird not hearing everyone else, but it's certainly a lot more peaceful."
"I imagine most do not know this is possible," Artemis shrugs and squares up to face him. "It's not as if the average mortal has many opportunities to listen to the Nine Muses. One time a few years ago I asked for silence instead asking for the music to stop, and this was the result."
Few.
"So why can we hear each other?" Percy asked, nose scrunched in thought.
"Magic? The usual answer for everything," suggests the goddess. But she is sure that everything feels too … boring at the moment. Flat. Platonic. Unassuming. Casual. Whatever word.
"Weird. I just listened to the music over everyone else's noise. Sure, you don't hear what they're dancing to, but it got awkward sometimes when other groups nearby were dancing to something completely different. This is much better not dealing with everyone else being loud. It's like being in our own little world." Percy frowns minutely. "Though I think some music would be nice. You have to request something now, is that how it works? I tuned into you, so that means you're in charge, right?"
"The magic that they use to link up groups and synchronize is beyond me," shrugs Artemis again as she takes his hands and places them at her waist. The soft jazz from before returns in a heartbeat, though it's a new song she's unfamiliar with. Perhaps taking his thoughts into consideration? The style is perfect, though: the calm, slow beat of drums and rasping snare; the muted chords of string bass and trombone; and the lilting, sweeping smooth saxophone; and a peppering of trumpets. The ensemble accumulates pleasantly in her ear as a single, satisfactory package.
"Jazz?" asks Percy. She nods, even as her hands move up to behind his neck.
"Why didn't you ever mention that you liked jazz?" Percy asks again. This time she shrugs noncommittally in response, before letting her hands settle. The position is perfect - just the right height (head level) to feel comfortable. She begins to drift back and forth in time with the fairly slow music. It's a good few seconds before his hands arrive at her waist and he finally submits to the flow of her movement.
The Huntress finds no need for words at the present, and Percy seems to agree. She wants to talk, yes, but right now she deigns savoring the physical intimacy she's sharing with Percy far more important. The slight weight of his hands, mere millimeters from touching her skin over her skintight black dress, reinforces the feeling of closeness. As the melody swells, she can feel the pulse of his heartbeat in concert with the music. Though …
"Nice tenor sax feature." The Son of the Sea mumbles quietly, not looking at her as he does so.
"Yes. How did you know?" As close as the demigod is, Artemis can feel how tense his hands are, a subtle difference of being locked rather than rested at her waist. The weight is still agreeable, and Percy isn't gripping her, yet it feels … tight, rigid. Just slightly off. To be fair, though, she is all too aware of her own hands trembling, even if only a little bit.
Maybe she isn't as ready for this as she thought. Or was it too soon for a slow dance?
Percy shrugs, and her arms jostle out of their position. "Ah, it's sorta embarrassing."
"I won't laugh," assures Artemis. She tries to find a comfortable position again, but the right location for her hands seems just out of reach.
"I always thought sax players looked pretty cool. Not marching band, but jazz band. The jazz band at Goode plays at lunch sometimes, and it's usually pretty good. Like ... I don't have a good history with music. An empousa kinda wrecked the band room and blamed me, so I'm banned from there. At least I wasn't expelled. But I kinda wanna play," explains Percy, eyes still off towards the general direction of the Nine Muses. "Mom also has a few good jazz albums that she plays, even though there's less of that than the other music she prefers."
"So you've listened enough to identify what type of saxophone is playing?"
"It's pretty easy. Sopranos, which play the highest, aren't even used in most jazz bands, but you usually have one bari. But they're really low and have a pretty distinctive weight to their sound. Alto sax and tenor sax the most common and are pretty close, but alto is a little more pitchy and goes higher, while tenor has the extra little range at the bottom that makes it sound a lot sexier to me."
"Sexy?" Artemis titters. Percy blushes and ducks his head, looking down at the tiles between their feet. The goddess, though, merely snuggles in closer to counter. More specifically, she leans in, cocking her head almost to his chest to look up into his eyes.
"I dunno. It just sounds … darker. What's the word …?" Due to their proximity and lack of other sounds (besides the music), his voice is now only a soft but clear whisper. Nonetheless, Artemis moves flush to his body, one ear listening to him and the other suffused with the beat of his pulse. "Alto sax is just too loud and bright for me, while tenor sax is kinda more … mellow, that's the word. Rich and full and beautiful ..." Percy trails off, and Artemis is sure his eyes are swallowing every detail of her face, with how the sea-green shimmers.
A half minute or so after she's closed the space between them, Percy wraps his arms around her waist, hands ghosting, one above the other atop the arch of her back. And it's there, enjoying the music, with the hero she's come to enjoy so much time with in her arms - or is it that she's in his arms? It's there, that a question that she had never considered before comes to haunt her. Even as they continue to sway, even as Percy's arms start to change from feeling vaguely distant and holding her away to soothing and inviting, she can only wonder: how much of her happiness has she denied herself by refusing males for millennia?
No, no, surely not. Perhaps - but Percy feels unique, surely a fresh soul born from Chaos so that there were no previous incarnations of him that she could've met earlier. Percy is special, for being able to come so close to her heart. But underlying that question …
When was the last time - no, when did she ever enjoy the tranquil and relaxing pleasures in life? Was this feeling only from spending time like this in such a manner? Even in the slowest paced hunts, an undercurrent of adrenaline is always prevalent. But this wasn't the ecstasy of a success - just a simple contentment with her state of being. Which, at least, she can now remember having some occasions of that in multiple centuries ago, spending nights with her Hunters.
But when had that become a chore instead? When had her lifestyle changed so drastically that being with her followers had become a matter-of-fact series of going through the motions? And when did it become that pretending to be a mortal, and spending time with a male became what made her most …
Most happy? Quietly but quintessentially happy?
Finally, she becomes conscious of the fact the music has stopped. But Percy has yet to stop slow dancing, and Artemis herself isn't inclined to stop either. She pulls her head back to regard him properly, and her field of vision slowly narrows as she draws closer and closer, lips parting minutely to -
His forehead gently bumps into hers, and she flinches at the sudden unexpected contact, fully alert. Now they stop moving about in place, and the hero's easy smile and tiny chuckle is infuriating on a level she can't even properly comprehend at the moment. She puts a little space between them, but before she can push him away and tell Percy off, his grip tightens and he asks another question. "Did you know that song?"
Her (completely righteous) fury tapers somewhat as mild confusion shoves it to the side. "No … why?"
"Because I do. Never heard it that way, but …" There's barely a ghost of a laugh, belying his amusement at the coincidence before he explains. "I hardly realized I picked it up until I was singing it in the shower, but I started hearing this song a lot because Paul loves hearing it, and playing it for Mom. And if you had, like, any idea of what the lyrics of the actual song is, well …"
"Well what?" she replies, a bit testy.
"Ask them to replay the song." She gnaws on her cheek, dissatisfied with his answer. But Percy smiles - softer, and even a bit pained now. And when he tugs gently at her waist, she grudgingly accepts his invitation to come closer and puts her arms around his shoulder again.
For a moment, one of his hands leaves her back to cusp the back of her head, and bring her forehead to meet his once again. All the while, the intensity in his gaze burrows into her eyes. "Luna. Please."
In the briefest second, she muses just how little names are used in real conversation. Being called Luna … was vaguely off-putting. Felt right, felt genuine, because of the way he said it - yet fundamentally wrong, because that wasn't the name she expected.
Then the hint of the thought of the word 'replay' in her mind restarts the song the Muse just played for them. This time, it's Percy who pulls her into dancing.
When Percy begins to sing softly, Artemis missteps. Thankfully, correcting herself and resuming their simple dance doesn't distract Percy from his song nor herself from hearing the lyrics.
When I fall in love … `.`.`.`.`.`.`.`.`
`.`.`.`.`.`.`.`.`. … it will be forever
Or I'll never … `.`.`.`.`.`.`.`.`.`.`.`
`.`.`.`.`.`.`.`.`.`.`.`… fall- in love
In- a- restless world … `.`.`.`.`.`.`.`
`.`.`.`.`.`.`.`.`.`.`.` … like this is
Love is end-ed be-fore it's be-gun …
And too many moon-light kisses …
Seem to cool … `.`.`.`.`.`.`.`.`.`.`
`.`.`.`.` in the warmth … `.`.`.`.`
`.`.`.`.`.`.`.`.`.`.`.` of the sun …
Artemis can't tell who is more embarrassed at the moment. Both his and her eyes dart about, barely able to lock onto each other's gaze for a few seconds before flickering away or closed. That, and his cheeks burn bright crimson, and she is absolutely certain hers are too.
When I give my- heart … `.`.`.`.`.`.`.`
`.`.`.`.`.`.`.`.`.` … it will be completely
Or I'll never … `.`.`.`.`.`.`.`.`.`.`.`.`.`
`.`.`.`.`.`.`.`.`.`.`.` … give my heart
And the moment … `.`.`.`.`.`.`.`.`.`.`
`.`.`.`.` I can feel that … `.`.`.`.`.`.`
`.`.`.`.`.`.`.`.` you feel that way too~
Is- when … I fall in love … with~ you. -~-
This time, they stop with the end of the piece. The sound of their breathing reigns as they are finally able to contemplate each other's eyes without interruption.
"You sing." Artemis searches his face for his response. Usually, it would be easy - Percy wears his heart on his sleeve - but at that moment it was frustratingly empty.
At least, until he cracked a small lopsided smile. "A Child of the Sea should always have hidden depths."
She tries to smile in return, but it refuses to properly form on her face. She attempts again - but to no avail. No point in a third try - instead, ever so slowly, the goddess rises to the tips of her toes. They were already wrapped oh so close, but now she presses up to Perseus as if to merge their bodies. Her eyelids flutter and close halfway as she approaches. The closer she gets, the more she can feel his very breathing slow to a stop as he freezes in place. She's only an inch away now.
There, she finds an impenetrable barrier. She can't bring herself, make herself, force herself to move any closer, and the two are locked into place. A few seconds - minutes - hours later, and Percy doesn't close the last gap between them.
… why?
Oh, gods be damned to Tartarus, Artemis has no idea what she's doing.
She just - why can't she just - why can't she finish the deed? She wants she wants she wants she wants so bad. She's been anticipating - anticipating something - something! This moment? This! - and it's here, and it's not happening, but it's not happening, nothing feels right. Everything is too rushed, too forced, too … fake and phony.
Maybe this isn't what she was looking for? Maybe she's just crazy. Well, Artemis has no idea left of what she might be looking for …
But apparently this isn't it.
She falls back on her heels as slowly as she approached. Oh, why didn't Percy respond? Why wouldn't he respond? Artemis appraises the last bit of intimate warmth from the hero's body before extricating herself and ducking her head to stare at their motionless feet. She feels as she's been sucker punched.
"You've done more for me than you'll ever know," Artemis whispers.
She turns to her left, towards the exit, not even looking up to see how he reacts - then stops.
Her gut actually feels like it's been punched. But it's strangely off to the side … she looks to her right, where a small celestial bronze knife handle sticks out from right above her where her kidney is supposed to be. Artemis falls onto her bottom, keeping herself from falling over completely with her left arm.
Is - is someone saying something? Percy is … is yelling at … protecting her from her attacker. It's a … a blonde girl - Annabeth? People around them are starting to notice …
Deliriously, Artemis clenches and pulls out the blade from her side. Golden ichor spurts out, splattering across polished marble tiles.
Oops.
The moon goddess faintly senses that Annabeth is so confused as to stop fighting Percy. That in her peripherals, the approaching Aphrodite and Zeus and Poseidon are also so shocked into complete disbelief as to stop moving towards the scuffle …
And Percy is turning, turning just in time to see the ichor-stained blade clatter onto the floor as she flashes away.
When I Fall in Love, performed by Nat King Cole, music by Victor Young, lyrics by Edward Heyman
