Snapdragon.

It was not that Artemis had come to be attracted to Perseus Jackson. A preposterous notion, made by someone with a gall rivaling Aphrodite. She most certainly wouldn't be attracted to a demigod, a male, or another child of the Sea such as Orion.

He was simply… interesting. Strange. Unique. Fascinating. From his accomplishments to his behavior, he was among a rare breed. It was something that warranted attention, examination, and even a talk. A talk, that is, if she could isolate the boy enough to avoid the gossip such a thing could cause.

That was how she'd found herself among the mortals, trailing the scent the demigod had left on his way through the city. She was still a bit too far for a line of sight, though that meant little in the fetid concrete pit that this city was.

Though it mattered not for the mortals, she had ditched the form and fashion that identified her so clearly. She adopted an appearance older than usual, not so old as to catch Perseus uncomfortable by any questions, yet not so young as to produce the same effect. With luck, he wouldn't notice her nature until she was long gone.

Despite how naked she felt, a pair of the 'leggings' so popular with the women of this age hugged right to her hips, and left little to the imagination. It was something Aphrodite would certainly wear, and Artemis was loathe to even vaguely meet the others' style. These were simple though, black and sleek and not once inhibiting her movement. Blessedly, she could wrap the Mist about her to redirect hungry eyes.

A parka, though it was a bleached bone white as opposed to silver, with dark gray fox fur about the hood, hid a simple tank top from the world. It was cold weather, with the gentlest flurries drifting from the clouds, but not nearly cold enough to affect a goddess. The coat certainly did a good job of hiding her daggers to any eyes privy to her presence, including Perseus.

Her hair, which was a blatant marker in any circumstance, had been replaced with loose silky black curls pulled into a neat ponytail. Her skin remained a milky white, which wouldn't be evidence of divine nature, and her eyes, which required far more effort than was worth, remained the same. With luck, the late hour at which he had gone drifting about would be her cover.

She slid through a group of drunks effortlessly, silently, and brought her focus to the growing scent for a moment. He had stopped somewhere, surely, the end to her hunt drawing near. All the better that she spend as little time away from her girls as she was able. Artemis was not so patient as her sister, despite her occupations. An active hunter caught more prey than an ambush predator.

Ultimately, it did not take long to find Perseus' hiding spot. 'The Lazy Moonshiner' was a simple bar, bearing the aesthetic of a rural hovel with an odd grace. As though the real deal had been plucked from the depths of the south and placed in the middle of the city by divine intervention. It was not the worst place she had been forced to enter, and not a place she expected to find a demigod.

The quiet twang of a guitar joined the hum of a crowd as she entered, joined by low singing voices. Not live music, thank gods, but a distant thing that kept any uncomfortable silence at bay.

Various patrons occupied the bartenders, be it in amiable conversation or dismayed weeping. Others found company in each other, and fewer still found no company at all.

She saw expensive clothes, muddied uniforms, stained aprons. Tired eyes, twisted frowns or soft smiles. The regular mortal, struggling in their own little bubbles.

Something about the sight gave her pause. There was quiet unity, between the businessman and the bookkeeper, the chef and the contractor, the widow and the widower. Even a glimpse into the minds about her oozed the quiet understanding of life's difficulties. It felt so terribly mortal, yet the word bore no scorn in her mind.

Scanning through the occupants gave her two conclusions. She didn't need to disguise her eyes, and Perseus was drunk.

He sat at the far end of the bar, half hunched over a drink and spilling his story to a mortal truly not prepared for it. The other man awkwardly thumped him on the back, in what was meant to be a placating gesture.

Artemis did not know the boy drank, and while disappointed she wasn't particularly surprised. Men loved to muddle their senses, weaken their discipline, hide from the problems that drive them to the bottle.

She took her time approaching, letting the cloak of Mist fall away. Disguises, disguises, and the cost of learning. Thankfully, she didn't get more than startled glances, like the inhabitants of the bar were surprised she'd slipped by without their notice.

"She knows, but she doesn't know." He slurred, lurching, "How it feels, the power."

The man gave a noncommittal response, clearly uncertain, and uncomfortable. He took another stiff sip of his drink, evidently ready to suffer the rambling for as long as Perseus remained in the bar.

Interesting. Unusual to see from men, but Perseus seemed to have such effects on anyone, inspiring acts of bravery or kindness from his fellow demigods. She had seen it within that camp, it would only make sense that similar effects would be felt by mortals. He seemed to draw the best of people to the surface- even Zoe had seen as much, before she was delivered to the stars.

His head hit the bar with a violent thump, sloshing some alcohol from glasses and launching his own into the air for a moment. It sounded painful.

The other man gave Perseus a thump on the back in some vague gesture of comradery, and while he gave no indication he noticed it broke Artemis' quiet musing.

She moved, covering the last stretch of ground as silent as a prowling cat. With no need to rush, and no destination with Percy in mind, she slipped into the bar stool beside him.

"Surprised to see you here, Percy."

A casual approach was likely the best. Thalia had never been formal,

"Whoare you?" He slurred, swiveling dangerously in his seat to level her a squint. His eyes were foggy, baring the intoxication should his behavior hide it.

"You do not remember me?" She faked an offense, pressing a hand to her chest in a display of drama worthy of Apollo, "We've fought Titans together."

That got a bewildered look from the other man and a harsher squint from Percy. Both were strangely amusing, her little 'joke' equally so. It pulled the corners of her lips into a hint of a smile while she waited.

"I know you."

"I would hope so."

"Who are you?"

She frowned. He made to take another sip of his drink, something bright and blue, before she caught the hand.

"Think she's here to take you home, lad," The man addressed Percy first, then leaned to find Artemis, "He was drunk when he walked in and he hasn't stopped."

"Take me home? Dinner first, at least!" Percy protested, with an obnoxious wink in both directions, "Y'know?"

She settled for action in lieu of words. Her hands wrapped about his shoulders, or rather as far her hands could wrap around his shoulders. She felt far too small in comparison to him, only made more apparent when she pulled him from his stool by the lean muscle of his back.

He stumbled, only saved from a head first meeting with a table of bikers by her divine strength. He did receive a host of glares for his misstep though.

"I wadnt done." He protested, though he only made halfhearted attempts to return to the bar.

"Why are you drunk, Percy?"

"S'what happens when you drink."

"Why are you drinking, Perseus?"

"To get drunk."

She glared, for a cheeky grin in return. He had a remarkable amount of cheek left, for just how drunk it was becoming apparent that he was. Not good for answers, depending on how painful of 'teeth' she had to pull to get them.

That however, could wait until the cool air of the outdoors surrounded them both, so she took point and didn't stop until it did.

Crisp and refreshing, the wind blew harder than it had prior to her entry, tugging at hair and clothes and fighting to sweep through the building before the doors closed.

The streets were not much quieter, with the steady hum of vehicle and foot traffic. It made her skin itch with a need to return to the wilderness, but she suppressed the urge. Instead, she kept walking until they reached a pocket between the tides of bodies.

"Why do you feel the need to get drunk, Percy?"

He sighed. An exaggerated thing, like exhaling had taken the strength from everything save for his legs. She forcibly righted him, which indirectly brought his lips far too close to her ear, and waited for a response.

Hot air washed across the side of her head, bringing a pungent alcoholic scent that she suppressed with a burst of power. Anything was preferable, and a reminder of her domain was ideal.

"Dreams." He said, as though it would explain it all.

"Of the Pit?"

"Tartarus. The dead. Holding the sky."

She pulled away and whipped to face him in the same sharp motion. He blinked, but kept himself upright.

"You have nightmares from taking the sky upon your shoulders?"

"Sometimes." He mumbled. A hand scratched at the stubble on his cheek, the beginning growth of hair she hadn't noticed before, "Stuck. Can't help. They die."

She didn't know what to make of that. It could be genuine, or perhaps some way to reveal he had discovered her. Was Perseus the sort to do such a thing? His expression didn't reveal anything either way.

His eyes were still hazy, expression oddly solemn. A great actor, if he was acting.

His lips weren't thin, yet not full. A middle ground of soft pink that curled into a smirk when he slurred out some nonsensical joke.

He had a scar on his lip. A faint, very faint, score of flesh that stretched from just above his upper lip to just below his lower. For anything short of a god, it would be nigh impossible to see without the perfect light.

Was it from his life as a demigod? From what had been before? Did a demigod have a life before learning their true nature? It seemed obviously so, yet she hardly ever considered it.

He said something that went right past her, though it served to remind her what exactly she had been staring at. Her head jerked, eyes landing firmly on the road ahead.

Olympus hung, an ever present beacon of Greek might. She could pick out each flickering torch, each glistening peak. A floating kingdom that had seen aeons. It had hardly ever been this… beautiful in her eyes, like a new lens had been put over her eyes- or perhaps an old one removed.

"Wish we could go up." Percy said, though she had taken a few liberties to make sense of his slurring, "Eyont let us up."

"Let you up?"

She didn't really mean to ask. She already knew the answer. Hearing it from him though, she was curious how demigods saw it. Another thing she'd never thought of before Perseus.

"Don't belong on Olympus." He mumbled, leaning on her with enough weight to make a mortal woman stumble, "S'pose to stay away, gods don't want us."

"I'm sure that's not why." Artemis wasn't sure why she defended her family's actions. She wasn't sure why she was doing anything tonight, "There are laws."

"Laws shmaws." She glanced at him, but didn't let her eyes linger. Staring at him, no matter what way he mocked Olympus, was decidedly a bad idea, "gods only use laws when they wan'ta."

"They abide by rules when they are inconvenient." She protested. He hardly even waited for her to finish speaking.

"How would you know?"

"I have seen Artemis express frustration with the limits of the law." Not a lie per se, Artemis did hate the nitpicked rules that would have Zeus thundering down about her ears over minor things, "Hermes, Apollo, Athena. All long to see their children."

"Zeus had a kid." The counter sounded dangerously close to heaving, but only words left his lips, "Dad had a kid. We die. Who cares 'bout rules?"

"Zeus certainly does, when it suits him." Artemis muttered dryly. He didn't respond, or didn't hear her.

"They don' care," He stumbled forward, and she followed. Mortals passed, much too far within their own worlds to notice a goddess and demigod meandering on the sidewalk.

She didn't bother fighting him any further.

"Why bother helping the other demigods then, if they are only to die?"

He made a loud noise, almost like he was mocking the idea of not helping.

"Why fight the Titans? The Gigantes? Why fight at all?"

Such nihilism was not expected, nor what she wanted to hear. What bravery was there in battle should you wish to lose? What honor in death should you seek it out?

"Who else?"

"Pardon?"

"If not me, then who?" He smiled. A sardonic thing, venomous and sharp, that never reached his eyes, "Who else woulda been picked to retrieve the Bolt? The Fleece? Stop Kronos?"

"Arrogant to assume no other would take up the mantle."

"No one did."

He walked, taking aimless turns this way and that, and a part of her wondered if he'd keep going if she stopped following.

Despite the slurring to his words, and the odd stumble, he was a remarkably manageable drunk. Apollo became helpless, Ares obnoxious, and Dionysus maddening, but Perseus was almost manageable.

"What am I? A toy?"

His tone was a bitter thing choking the air of anything else it had carried moments before., "Some pawn on a board to be sacrificed on a whim."

"You are a man, Perseus." His expression told her just how comforting her words hadn't been, but she had little else to say, "A very drunk one."

Stepping into a legacy not willingly, but because no one else would take it. Becoming what would likely the most notorious demigod in history on what summed to an accident. Killing the Titan King, traversing the Pit, and squaring off against Gaea's Gigante sons, simply because no other would step up to the task.

Very strange indeed, this demigod. She had learned enough of him for a night, though.

With a steady hold about his shoulder, she forced the world about them away. Within the next beat of her heart, they stood before a small, quaint townhouse.

From the black roof, to the white walls, to the pale blue highlights, it was a picture of quiet suburbia. Two cars, one with hoof sized indents on the hood, quietly waited for the next drive, the next journey.

Her eyes caught the flowers, chief amongst them a handful of Snapdragons. They were not meant to be in bloom this late in the year- a touch of influence from Demeter perhaps? Certainly a strange notion, but Artemis had some trouble understanding her aunt or what motivated her.

Perseus stumbled free, blinking at the building in a daze.

"I wasn't done."

"I believe you should be done for tonight, Percy." She took a step behind him, gently guiding him to the door. Just the door, there was no propriety in leading him to his bed.

"Whatever." He mumbled, acquiescing the directions within her soft touch, "Always tomorrow."

"It would be unwise to go out every night, Percy. Asking for trouble."

"I do that by staying alive." He turned a few paces from the threshold, giving a full view of his grin. Her eyes caught the small scar once more, barely visible in the moon's contrasts.

He took gentle hold of her hand, twisting it to press his lips to her knuckles for a long moment. The warmth of his touch burned through her, rushing unbidden past her collar and right to her face.

"Thank you for the ride, My Lady."

And he was gone, out of her reach and with a moment to fumble his keys, out of the hall. She stared at the spot, stunned.

A quiet murmur in the recesses of her mind broke the momentary silence, a prayer. Thalia. The time to return had come.

Perseus Jackson had not allieved her curiosity, this night. He had not tamped her interest, her thirst for understanding. Bitter, yes, duty bound, maybe, but there was something more beneath it all. A quiet piece of him, one seen by few. Artemis wanted to be among them.