Athena's fingers tightened around the handles of the bowl she held while the servant came out from Artemis' bedchamber. The grim look on the servant's face suggested unwelcome news.
"My Queen, she… she does not respond…"
The Queen's jaws clenched as she sighed. She stared at the doors before deciding to finally use her authority to cross over boundaries of personal space.
"Do you wish to leave a message, My Queen?"
Athena glanced back at the servant, gathering enough courage, "I will leave the message myself."
"A-as you wish," the servant tried to hide her surprise after weeks of imploring her mistress and relaying the Queen's messages. "Do you need me to bring you anything?"
The bowl of plums and cherries glistened in the Queen's hand.
"No, thank you. This should be enough—"
"Wine please."
Eyes grew wide, turning to Ares rising from the polished staircase. He sounded tired, but his voice was rich, "Unsweetened. Undiluted. Cooled."
"U-undiluted, my King?" the servant hid her trembling hands but her paling face betrayed her.
Ares narrowed his eyes and before he could speak what would make the poor girl regret asking, Athena held out her hand with a practiced grin—"Yes, dear. He does love to experiment. You may fetch it now."
As the servant scurried away, the King skeptically followed her trail before she disappeared around the bend.
"Why is everyone so eager to get away from me?" Ares muttered without noticing the smile that flashed across Athena's face, "Hephaestus looks every bit repulsive and yet he has the third of Olympus happily watching him spar."
The Queen lowered her head to swallow down the faint chuckle. The scent of healing oils wafted from underneath his leathers—almond and grapeseed. Her eyes softened at the pallid bruises on his hands still screaming red and purple. She wondered whether trainings with Hephaestus had become more of a liability than strength. They had been spending quite some time together and not without a healing bruise or broken bone to take home.
"So?"
The gruff tone was enough to have her attention. Ares subtly crossed his arms above his chest, tucking the hand beneath his cape.
"She finally agrees to see you?"
There was a twitch in Athena's chest as she answered, "No."
Ares took in the size of the doors, "Then… what are we doing here?"
"I… ought to break in…"
"Do you now?" Ares feigned a shocked expression, "Did the Underworld shit itself? What happened to 'waiting it out'?"
She shrugged; shame apparent. He sighs unapologetically, "Come on, Athena. It's not as if you're plundering a village off its treasures…"
"I know. It has been weeks since…" Athena was cut by the hallowing in her throat, recalling the second she saw Poseidon sprawled on his literal death bed, the same day Artemis retreated from her duties and into isolation. "But still it just doesn't feel right to come in unannounced at a delicate time. It's quite rough, you know… and reckless…"
"Well she's lucky," Ares exhaled sharply, running his tongue between his teeth… "Wish you could go rough and reckless with me too."
The last thing he smirked about was the rolling of her eyes and the cringed manner she broke through the doors without permission. He followed in, grinning like a champ— Works every.
Damn.
Time.
Athena paused at the awful dullness that met them. The chamber she remembered holding a rustic sophistication was bland as a ghost town. Her eyes roamed at the mess which was very unlike Artemis. The fireplace was a cold, black cavern beneath an enormous pair of stag horns which were beginning to accommodate dust as its luster wanes. Candles from the layers of spheric chandelier were but tiny lifeless dots above her bed unmade. On the irregularly shaped wooden table were abandoned goblets, some toppled over and glistening blankly at the daylight.
In the corner of her eye she caught sight of Ares bending over to pick something up from the pelted floor. She turned to him, her face tensing as the King pulled out from under the bed curtains a bow as golden as the sun, embossed with solid intricacy, its ethereal beauty everyone could recognize. Even by staring at it alone, Ares felt as if the scar under his eye had reopened, carrying his mind afloat as the clashes of steel above blood-stained sands rang in his consciousness and igniting in him a familiar sort of wrath.
Only when Athena's hands took over the weapon did he awake back in the room. The Queen laid the bow carefully on Artemis' bed, glancing at him warily, and which he shamefully avoided. When a knock came forth from the doors, he immediately swayed towards it to relieve himself from the past and indulge in the wine expected.
Athena remembered it too— it was not the sort of memory one might be oblivious about. Taking a last look at the bow and its sinister magnificence, she finally willed herself towards the balcony held by four pillars draped in vines of purple wildberries. It opened to a clear afternoon sky where the gentle breeze swept across and made the gauzy curtains swell and flutter. In the shaded middle was Artemis lying on the pillows of her klines.
Athena took in what became of her dearest companion. The once wild and careless goddess of Hunt was a limp figure staring at the space before her, hair loose and feeble, dark rings below now lifeless blue eyes, and paled skin which revealed once regressed freckles on her cheeks and shoulders. She had not changed from her sleeping gown of olive green, her arms were bare and a thin wool blanket veiled her legs curled near the chest.
The Queen cleared her throat in demented silence before deciding to sit on the edge of Artemis' lying place and followed her gaze. Behind them she hears Ares approaching from the door, the pungent scent of alcohol reeking from a flask in his hand. He leaned a shoulder by the pillar with a large swig of the wretched beverage.
"I'm sorry," Athena heard herself blurt out, "Lost track of the times I sent word for you. We were getting worried."
When Artemis sighed did Athena only returned her eyes to her.
"I heard you weren't eating well," the Queen set the bowl on the table before them, "I hope this brings back your appetite."
Artemis stared at the berries, and the polite smile was enough for Athena to know she was beginning to stir her heart back.
"Artemis, I wish to help you get past the pain you are going through. But you would have to let us understand it first…"
"Even it meant talking about a banished criminal?"
Athena's muscles flinched; her breath internally knocked off her by the agony in Artemis' husky voice. From the side she saw Ares pause midway his drinking spree.
She lowered her head. "We had no choice, Artemis…"
"Of course you do," Artemis' lashes sparkled with bitter tears, "You promised to help him."
"I also promised to protect Olympus."
Artemis scoffed, "You never wanted Queenship. Why prioritize it now?"
"Artemis…"
"Apollo had been a part of your life before the crown was upon your head! He had always been there for you, no? Queen or not, he was there. For you. None of us three knew you would inherit the throne and you were one to despise it yet now this is what you make of him—" Artemis was sitting upright the moment her voice broke. There was the spark of rage on her eyes which easily fleeted at once when she buried her face on her palms.
As if detached from her spirit, Athena could not move to even wrap her arms around her friend. Her jaws were numb from clenching as the desperate will to prevent her tears from blurring her vision had ominously failed.
"You're right," the Queen whispered amid hallowing throat, "There was not a day my conscience bothered me. Contrary to your thoughts, I care for our friendship. The only reason I want Apollo stopped was so he could no further sully the good memories we had…
"And if you so insist on lifting up the banishment from him then tell us true," Athena held a firm, albeit tear-stricken gaze, "Did he or did he not kill Poseidon?"
Artemis' breath hitched at the question, and the Queen could immediately read the terror that clutched itself on her expression.
"I—"
It took no longer than a blink when Artemis released a dread-filled sob and Athena locked eyes with Ares whose expression went from indifference to taut.
"I'm sorry…" Artemis sniffled, herself shaken from her manner of reception, "I had not thought of my words. I—I am in not a position to question your judgment, Athena, I'm sorry. Not after I lied to you which I should not have…"
A faint smile played on the Queen's lips as she shook her head and allowed Artemis a space to breathe awhile. She lifted a hand to wrap around the Huntress' cold palms.
"Artemis, please. We only want the truth…" Athena's eyes searched intently in a match of both threat and endearment, "What — happened?"
A last lone tear slid past Artemis' trembling lips. There was a burden deep in her chest which had started growing in an exchange of panic and pain, and this time she knew the longer it lingered, the more she fed the monsters underneath her bed. Artemis looked to the side, meeting Ares' inscrutable eyes, and towards the vastness before them. She let out a trembling sigh to brave herself of that moment which had haunted her wickedly.
She only wished that day had never arrived, when so much had happened in a single waking moment. Artemis heard of the King's departure to Eleusis. In the courtyard she waited as the Queen bid goodbye to her husband. She had witnessed even the most bizarre flaunting of their affections, sending the witnesses into a thrill and tons of gossip which could last for a decade. When Ares rode out the gates did she approach Athena still longing for her husband's shadow.
"I see someone's smitten…"
She had worn her palace garbs back then, abandoning her station in the hunt and leaving the forests to animate on their own. She needed to present herself available for conversation and not one regarded to be excused so easily. To Artemis' relief, the Queen recognized this by slipping an arm around hers as she was led towards the corridor while engaging in some sort of questioning.
Her hands were trembling the time she held Athena's, though surprisingly, the Queen's were actually colder. She only had to make this one last plea for Apollo. In her mind was the repetitious voice of hope— she will listen… she will forgive… she will forgive! If there was a place Athena was seen to be merciless, it would be in a battlefield. But this, this is Apollo's life at stake. She will listen. The echoes played on louder than her own voice as she spilled her confession to the one who trusted her most. The guilt was overwhelming and tears poured on out.
But astoundingly, Athena had not responded to her sniffling. The Queen stood there, processing her words and perhaps gauging the bluff in them.
"You knew? Someone told you?"
Athena negated her suspicion. But the temporary relief had easily ended when she noticed the Queen draining color, which escalated to herself calling out for help as the other laid limp in her arms.
In the infirmary, the swarm of guards and servants hastily moved Artemis out of the picture, and she could only watch them enter the room with Asceplius following by. Soon she would know what had happened and with high hopes it was nothing relative to her confessing. Remembering her brother, she swiftly went past the corridors and out into the open meadows.
She smelt the dry pampas on her way towards the clearing where Apollo sat still upon the rock. The rolling hills far before them were soaked in sunlight, reflecting the wings of dragonflies hovering above the blades of crisp grass.
"You should have brought a cloak with you," came in Apollo's monotony without even turning to his sister, "Winter approaches. Night could come in colder these days."
"Humor me. Winter hasn't started but lands are becoming rid of crops already."
"Yes I've anticipated it."
"Did you?" Artemis sat by her brother, grinning, "has harvesting become one of your powers now?"
"Has Athena awoken from the infirmary the time you left?"
"No, I'm afr— what?" eyebrows creased, she looked at her brother who had never returned the connection, "How did you know she was— were you there? Are you out of your senses? Remember we are trying to appeal to Athena's good conscience. It would do you no good showing up—"
"I visited her, in a dream."
Artemis' lips were left open between her unfinished sentence. It was this time Apollo gave her a gentle look, "She will be alright. I've seen Asceplius too. He seems to have been thriving well."
"Really, Apollo, have you or have you not been there all along? Because if you have suddenly grown the ability to stalk gods—as creepy as that sounds— then you might as well not be needing my help getting you back to the palace…" Artemis rolled her eyes.
"I don't have to, Artemis."
"What…?"
"I need not go back there and stay. I only need accomplish two things. And afterwards, would have to go."
The words came tumbling around Artemis like riddles of spear, piercing her across most vulnerable parts. She stared at her brother like she only seen him for the first time—for she had actually felt that way since retrieving him from the fiery debacle he caused. He had changed. Physically careless. Emotionally distant. Yet somehow she trusted this was but a phase from the horror of experiencing death and coming back alive to relieve it. Slowly her eyes stung from the welling tears.
"I… lied for you, Apollo," her voice quivered, unable to steer away from him she so loved, "The palace was looking for you… Athena was looking for you and I chose to mar her trust for you…"
For a while she hinted a piece of her brother from the guilt that softened his expression, the Apollo she knew and grew up with.
"I know," Apollo smiled, tucking stray hair behind her ear. He took her hand and kissed the knuckles before standing, "I did say I was to accomplish two things, and one was definitely for you—in exchange of all the troubles I caused you."
He clicked his tongue twice and maintained a confident smile while the tall grasses behind them stirred. Everything seemed to brighten. Out came the soft taps of hooves and Artemis' eyes widened when the grand solar chariot fastened to four stallions gently paraded before them. The gold in the chariot raved like fire but felt cool to the touch. Apollo reached out to the horses, patting their muzzle with a playful smile on his lips.
"What are you— what are they doing here…?" Artemis reached for the length of Aethon's thick, muscled neck. The horse pressed itself to her touch.
Apollo laughed.
"Why, sister, I own them. Do I need to be explained?"
"But the sun…" she gave him a worried look, "If no one is guiding the sun…"
Her brother dismissed the thought lightly, "You worry too much. It's a celestial body working on its own with or without my supervision. Father made us believe otherwise. We were raised thinking the cosmos is in our hands when he certainly does not know what power truly felt…"
There was an edge in Apollo's voice that made Artemis shiver. She saw the inauspicious glint in his eyes as he stared beyond her.
"It's something else, Artemis… it's more than sticking around for centuries or possessing special abilities… it's about… transcending beyond time or space… or molding a whole entire universe, right, it's the ability to create and… and ruin… and remain indestructible…"
Artemis' breath was stuck in her throat the moment she glimpsed the side of him she was growing to dislike: a cold, ugly vibrance, often accompanied by nonsensical string of words.
As if Apollo had noticed her disdain, he swiftly shifted to his regular mood and a smile filled with sunshine. "Well, then," he lifted himself up the chariot and stretched out his hand, "Come on in."
"What—" Artemis stared at the hand, at the scars that had grown in his flesh, "What are you doing…?"
"Haven't we always wanted to do this?"
Her heart raced with excitement and cautiousness, the images of them flashing before her. Indeed they had bickered about trying out each other's chariots when either the sun or the moon was out despite their mother's warnings. Apollo was way more enthusiastic with causing the trouble, however sweet he was. The hesitation was strong, but when Artemis too, remembered herself standing over her brother's lifeless body and regretting not having been able to fulfill his silly prank.
"Come, now," Apollo wrung her off the thoughts, his hand still awaiting hers, "I bet this would be less fun when the sun sinks down deeper."
She could not recall dictating her body to his request but the next thing she saw was her own palm touching his and her feet stepping within her brother's chariot. She was wreaked with various emotions led by both fear and intoxication. But there was something inside of her that felt this was the only now and never again.
At the roll of the wheels she felt the light touches of the southern wind, and Artemis was just there, her fingers clutched to the sides of the one-man carriage. Everything moved until she realized it was them, she and that jerkish grin of her brother, who were diving into an open sky. In their speedy ascent the hind wheels broke heavy pile of rocks upon impact. Artemis watched the slabs crumble into the wild open sea, for a moment horrified they might have just caused great damage.
The wind grew strong against her face and Apollo had started whooping like an idiot. And Artemis, seeing the endless land and sea stretching below them, told herself this was definitely the first in millennia she had seen half the world in broad daylight.
Her cheeks were tainted red with unexpressed exhilaration; her hair was a mad curtain prettified with uneven brown shades. She took in the sights of skies, of blues and greying cotton clouds, the yawning mountain tops and the lush greenery of forests she roamed on foot.
And gods, it was beautiful.
Later she could hear herself joined in with Apollo's laughter. He looked at her with the brightest eyes which screamed— 'This is what freedom feels like. What power feels like'
Something unexpected then, was beginning to happen below them. As they rode across the seemingly endless arc, a shadow began to blanket everything below them as if the chariot itself was pulling darkness on the surface. They watched on, hers with curiosity and his with indifference. As the shadow leaked darker, it merged with what seemed a monochrome of ice and fire.
From a distance, Artemis heard a faint rumble followed by a smothered howl.
"Did you hear that?" she asked her brother, looking around to exact where the sounds came from. Apollo had not turned to her.
"Apollo, I heard something…"
"What?" he leaned towards her in a gesture of pardoning to repeat.
"I heard something!" Artemis raised her voice, "Like an avalanche… and a howl…!"
Apollo narrowed his eyes, his fingers tightening the reins before whipping hard, "Must be the wind! Look, we're turning around now…!" He grunted as the chariot was made to slant, shaking Artemis out of balance and eventually having her forget the things heard.
They rode back in a more adventurous mood this time. Apollo drove with brimming titillation sweeping side to side and testing tricks enough to keep Artemis' sole attention. Slowly the shadows beneath them began to clear and everything returned the way it was before. She was laughing her heart out giddily, her arm wrapped around his as they broke out from the thick bushels of clouds and into the view of the cliff which they departed.
"Alas, we return…" Artemis sighed contentedly, watching the waves below them pursue and explode against the cliff.
She noticed, however, the strange figures that gathered in their landing site and one she was sure wasn't there before.
"Apollo," she whispered despite the wind. Her brother was beginning to slow down in the prospect of landing. "Do you see that…?"
Apollo nodded. Up close they could outline the dozens of heavily armed men in full height. They held the banners of the palace itself, the image of a striking thunder in a field of velvet purple. Artemis could recognize Enyalius and his piercing black eyes.
"Palace guards…" Artemis muttered, feeling Apollo's muscles tense to her touch. The chariot shook upon contact on the rocky soil. The horses whickered and grunted prancing to calm.
As soon as the twins stepped off the carriage, the sentry take position and surrounded them in calculated distance from the edge of the cliff. The horses of the chariot retaliated in fear. Artemis swept her puzzled gaze on the soldiers. Their eyes were burning through the helms as if they were a target of utmost danger. Enyalius stepped out, clad in the War god's general he is. His cape was white with threads of gold, and which remained passive against the wind as he pulled off his helm, spilling flaxen shoulder-length hair.
"Apollo, by King's decree, you are hereby demanded back to Olympus."
Artemis' face paled. How cruel. They had never before shared a single word and it was unimaginable his first statements would be an arrest. Before cold sweat gathered on her scalp, she stepped between Enyalius and her brother.
"On what grounds? Does the Queen know this?"
"On account of…" Enyalius hesitated, for a moment stopped by the turmoil in his gait, "Posedon's murder. And yes, the Queen is aware."
Silence. Artemis was poorly weighing the words. Instead, a horrible chill crept up her bones.
"No…" the word came out a gust of air and she balled her fists, "No. This is a mistake. Apollo had been with me, I swear… all this time, he was with me. He hasn't stepped any closer to the palace since his arrival. If this was about his hiding, w-we concede, but murder?"
Artemis couldn't tell where her short frantic laughter came from as she steered to her accused brother— "That's impossible, right, Apollo? Right? Tell them… just tell them…"
But the way Apollo maintained an apathetic reflection flipped his sister's stomach. Her eyes could only widen and its pupils contract to small black dots. The silence was sickening, until Apollo gave her a gentle smile, the one which usually made her wallow in bliss but now which held an otherworldly meaning.
"When you get back to the palace, love," he muttered, only which Artemis could hear, "Remind your King of that which comes after winter—the start of a season, the prospect of growth—or the decay that comes with it."
Artemis' teeth chattered, ignoring his statement, "When you said you were only to accomplish two things in your return… if having me ride your chariot was one… what was the other…?"
"Artemis, I recommend you step away from him," Enyalius' firm tone ripped through as the sentry raised their spears in the suspicion of chaos. The sun was beginning to spill hazes of red in its dying light.
"The other was to fulfill my task…" Apollo cupped his sister's cheek, kissed the edge of her trembling lips before running his mouth on the lobe of her ear,
"—as godslayer."
In a blink, Enyalius was in full motion to wrench Artemis from her brother's touch and grapple Apollo to the ground. Yet as if he had read the happenings beforehand, Apollo was last seen to have pushed himself back to his chariot and before anyone could lay a hand on the reigns, a strong gust of wind and flames blasted from the source, creating a halo and a streak of light which punctured through the clouds above.
All was forced to the ground at the detonation. The banners were broken and laid in tatters on the dust.
Artemis' elbows were chaffed from deeply sliding against the rocky surface. She looked up only to find Apollo's chariot encased in blinding light. The general whipped chains to capture but was merely stunned as the combusting mass turned towards the sea and dived straight down to it. Enyalius sprinted towards the edge but in vain.
Not a single ash was seen floating in the wayward waters far below them.
Athena was unsure if she had blinked at all throughout Artemis' recollection. Her eyes stung, looking away into the clouds that weren't there when she and Ares entered. She pictured Apollo carefully—bringing to mind that the last time she had talked to him was not entirely a dream and the worst thing was not knowing the proper reaction.
"Godslayer huh…" Ares spoke after the last swig of his wine, his mind wandering at the memory of Poseidon in a backdrop of blackened clouds and manic rage upon the blood and ruins of Cape Sounion. He remembered the echoes of his words well— "I'd rather be killed by the godslayer than the pathetic scum you are!"
Ares scoffed, "…at least Poseidon got his wish."
The Queen hid her flinching at the thought. With that Apollo has finally declared himself an enemy of Olympus. She muttered, "I knew there was nothing coincidental about that eclipse."
In the light of one thing, however, she looked at Artemis at the height of her suspicious zeal…
"Remind your King of that which comes after winter," Athena repeated, "Did Apollo really only address 'the King'?"
Artemis nodded, her eyes dropping as she gathered her knees to her chest. "What does that even mean?"
"Spring," Athena's body tensed, "After winter comes Spring. He was referring to Persephone… but why does he have to remind only you, Ares?" When Athena met her husband's sight, however, she'd not expected to see him look disturbed more than herself. His jaws were clenched, and though he was able to quickly shift into his usual complacent mask, she caught that flash of chagrin in his eyes.
The King shrugged, "I was the one who talked Demeter down, didn't I? Artemis, tell me," his immediate swerve to another line of thought, "Did Apollo ever make subtle cues on anything that could make him surrender? Like, any signs of weaknesses?"
Artemis bit her lip down in thought, tightening the embrace around her knees. Her eyes softened, "He only said I—I should strive to live… because there is nothing at all to go to after death… no paradise for gods, not a piece of land to roam as spirits, nor open arms of those who went before. Just… nothing."
"Does that mean he's afraid to die, I mean, again?" Athena asked, "He has experienced death, after all. And if he fears death, someone must have promised him salvation from it. Someone… Hades or Cronos if they did make an alliance, or any other unseen force."
A soft gasp escaped Artemis' lips with the strike of an awakened memory—
"Th-there could be something you could do, Athena—" Artemis's lips were left parted at a sudden realization that there was someone else in the room other than her and the Queen, and this 'someone else' happens to be the Queen's husband.
But it was late to take it back now. As she had baited attention and was now being waited to continue, "Well we… we know how he particularly feels for you. He called you his… 'last shred of his humanity.'"
Athena tipped her head, mouthing the words before asking, "What… well… what does that—"
"Nothing! Forget it. My mind is not in its best state. I am making undignified propositions."
"No, Artemis, if there is anything I could do to help—"
"It's nothing, Athena, just—"
"I insist—"
"Reciprocate his feelings."
Athena held her breath upon Ares' stoic voice. Beside her, Artemis raked her nails across her scalp, fisting her coarsened hair and burrowing her face against her knees. Taking her for an imbecile, Ares' words seared her core as he continued:
"Beguile him. Charm your way through his weakness. Seduce him. Have him if you must." He briefly, forcefully laughed, "Gods, Athena, really, you could be the most intelligent creature in the world yet dumbest with the heart. Suitors be sending you their gifts and you be sending them to their deaths at that."
The once warm breeze had suddenly turned gore. It was either the air thickening or an iron wiring tight around the Queen's chest. There was silence.
Then there was pain.
Athena's head throbbed when the scuffle of leather and capes came from whom the bearer of the last words. In the corner of her eye, she could tell Ares was on his heels readying to move, the empty flask of wine swinging from his hand. Soon enough, his firm and heavy steps filled the room. Every inch away was an addition to the tumult. She slowly gazed yet all that was left to see was her husband slipping through the door without a single look back and only a cold, acrid excuse—
"Training."
A/N: Hello beautiful souls.
No one:
Review(s): hOt sCeNes...
A/N: ...
A/N: ...
A/N: (am I this predictable?)
A/N (to self): Get that fookin blender. One big ass lemonade coming right up. :)