plummet: I don't think I realized how incredibly difficult it's going to be to pull off this pairing…Lol. All y'all, wish me luck. XD
Disclaimer: I own nothing that appears out of the ordinary…like your face! -falls over- Juuuust kidding x 1000. Lol.
[A/N: Sorry if I annoyed anyone with this repost...There were a few errors, though I couldn't find many missing words...I might've been reading over them, though. Lol, I do that a lot...
A Heart that Feels Not is Dead
Chapter One: Divine Interference
Forever beautiful and warm was Mount Olympus, the home of the gods. The flowers were always in bloom, and the birds always singing; it was an eternal spring, an utter utopia. The Olympian goddess Artemis stood on the southernmost peak of that very mountain, her long, thick hair blowing about her face gently with an impossibly bright shine of health. Her brow furrowed in thought, and a frown pulled at the corners of her perfect, pink mouth as she gazed down upon the happenings of the mortal realm.
"You should not frown, sister; you will get wrinkles," Apollo said jokingly, coming up behind her and putting a hand on her shoulder.
Artemis, not startled in the least by her brother's sudden appearance, looked over her shoulder at him and smiled sadly in response, turning her head slowly back to its original focal point. Despite rumors of her seriousness, she was usually quite jovial, and her gloominess had Apollo worried.
Looking in his sister's general line of sight, Apollo attempted to spot what had so captivated her, but failed. He, after all, had no idea what he was looking for.
"What is happening in the mortal realm that has you so troubled?" he inquired, genuinely curious.
Artemis' frowned deepened, and it looked to Apollo as if she was debating on whether or not to tell him the truth. After a few seconds of indecision, she spoke.
"Brother…" Artemis started, skillfully avoiding his question with another one. "Do you think it would be alright, just this once, to alter mortal history-," Apollo looked ready to vehemently object at that, but Artemis put up her hand, silently asking him to hear her out, "-if it were for the greater good?"
Apollo's eyes softened somewhat. He always had a weak spot for his older sister. Despite their differences, family was family, and he found himself hard-pressed to deny her anything when she gazed upon him with such a look of forlornness.
"What did you have in mind?" he asked breathily, with just a hint of weariness. His compassionate nature had already coerced him into helping her.
"Well…" Artemis began tentatively, "I have always cared a great deal for the mortals of Sparta, for the men there take very good care of their women and give them the freedoms they deserve…" Apollo nodded to show he was listening. "…and this war that is to happen, the one between the Spartans and the Persians…It has my emotions reeking havoc on my mind day and night..."
Apollo nodded again in understanding, squeezing his sister's shoulder gently in an attempt to comfort her. "Yes, I can see why the 300's fate bothers you so, but I know you are well aware, sister, that father has forbid us from meddling in the affairs of mortals…and furthermore, are you prepared for the repercussions should whatever you are planning fall to ruin?"
Artemis sighed, shrugging off her brother's comforting hand and turning to face him completely in the process. "I figured you would say something along those lines…but I know that what I have in mind will be eons better for everyone, us gods included, in the long run."
"Alright then, let me hear it," her brother demanded playfully, shoving her lightly. "I am dying to know what brilliant thoughts are brewing in that shrewd and calculating little mind of yours."
Artemis shook her head with a smile. Honestly, she was shocked he was not even the smallest bit angry. After all, the war was being fought during the time of the Carneia, his very own holiday.
"I am going to request an audience with father," Artemis said with resolve. "If you come with me, perhaps he will let you stay long enough to find out." Winking at him with a little wave of farewell, she disappeared in a flash of moonlight and stardust.
Before Apollo himself followed after his sister, he couldn't help rolling his eyes skyward in exasperation. Mortal or immortal, the mood swings of women never ceased to amaze him.
The sky over Greece was dark, dreary and foreboding, not a very encouraging sight for King Leonidas of Sparta and his three hundred soldiers as they made their way toward the Hot Gates. Though, not affected in the least bit by the ominous atmosphere, the Spartans marched on, their sandals squelching slightly with every step, crimson capes billowing out behind them in the steady wind that whispered loudly of future blood shed. All of the soldiers were grinning from ear to ear, beyond eager for the battle to come. All of them, that is, except the king.
Well, if you did not know him well enough, you would say he was just as excited as everyone else. He wore a slight smirk on his regally handsome face, his head held high with dignity, his shoulders back as he walked on with confidence...However, his expressive eyes gave him away: a dark, troubled green. He prided himself in being able to assess every situation accurately, and he knew, deep within his heart, that he and his men would not be returning home. Well, he knew at least that he would not be. The oracle had predicted the destruction of either Sparta or a Spartan king should a war be fought during the Carneia, and it would certainly not be Sparta if he had anything to say about it…
He shook his head sadly. It did not have to be this way…They would not be up against such impossible odds if his councilmen and advisors had only listened to reason…They had passed judgment on him without even hearing a word of explanation pass from his lips! Really, what was he to do when his very own advisors and councilmen would not listen to him? And what were they thinking? Did they really expect that he and his army would remain obediently within the confines Sparta and pretend that a million or more Persians were not descending upon them, keen on their total annihilation?
Leonidas' fist clenched so tightly he almost drew blood, though his face betrayed nothing of his intense, burning anger.
Did they no longer trust the reasoning of their king? Did they not understand that a king like King Xerxes, who was willing to kill even his own men for victory, was not to be trusted?
His eyes hardened. He knew, however, their loyalty had mostly been swayed by the adder-tongued Theron who had been speaking poorly of him since his coronation. Not that he cared what was said about him by that vermin, of course. He knew everyone, even fellow councilmen, were critics. However, when opinions formed by bitterness and jealousy were construed into condemning statements of supposed 'truth,' a line had to be drawn. He was the king, and he at least deserved attention and respect when something as serious as war lurked in the immediate future. That, unfortunately and most obviously, had not been granted…
A sudden silence descended upon his ears, and Leonidas blinked a few times, gazing around at his stationary warriors, not sure when he himself had stopped moving. It was times like these, he mused, that his analytical mind was both a blessing and a curse. He was sure, if he were any less of a thinker, he would go insane from the tension and anxiety that came along with his profession, but…it did tend to make him a tad unaware of his surroundings.
"My king, look!" Astinos shouted suddenly, pointing to something on the horizon.
Leonidas' eyes followed to where he pointed, and he did not like what he saw, not at all. Thick, black smoke laced the skyline, right over the location of one of the Spartan outer villages…Or rather, judging by the intensity of the smoke, where one of the villages used to be.
The soldiers, grim-faced now, looked to Leonidas for orders. They would not investigate the scene if their king thought it would slow their progress.
Leonidas gave an almost imperceptible nod, signaling that they would, in fact, investigate. The soldiers nodded back, to show they understood, and they started towards the smoking village, their king taking up the rear.
plummet: Well, I realized I have to watch the movie again if I'm going to analyze it this closely in my writing…XD R&R, please….and I'll give y'all smexy Spartan plushies! -le thumbs up-