Note; unrelated to prior Artemis shots, as I have mentioned. This stands separate, though I may have another followup later on. Enjoy~
Prairie Smoke
Olympus remained quiet, the air so thick with the unique tension born from intense argument that none dared to break the silence. Perhaps the citizens had taken cover with the rumbling of thunder, perhaps no one was willing to risk the ire of Zeus by speaking, perhaps it was something else entirely.
The hearth had been little more than embers when Hestia had finally left. It had rarely been so low, even in the tides of war, and it brought her mood with it. Dwindling hope, stifling anger and sorrow, a potent cocktail that choked her till she had left that room.
So, she found herself at the cusp of the floating city, knees to her chest, watching the clouds churn and swirl below. None touched even the lowest portions of Olympus, though a mighty storm ravaged the streets of New York City below.
Hestia loved her family. Really loved her family. One did not spend so long tending the hearth, secede from a council position, and ceaselessly work to soothe the egos and attitudes of the Olympians without more than a little love acting as motivation.
She felt a fool. Millennia spent, civilizations missed, a world unseen, for what? All her toiling, and her family was farther apart than ever, closer and closer to civil war.
Lightning, bright and purple and furious, punctuated her thoughts, flashing within the clouds.
Why did she try anymore?
There would be nothing to stop her from leaving. They may not even notice her absence, save for perhaps Demeter at most. Assuming they did notice, despite whatever nonsensical argument would take hold of the meeting, would they care?
The wind, a strange updraft from below, dragged raindrops from the clouds, suspending thousands of tiny translucent drops in the air like stars. A strange, magnificent display that lasted just long enough to catch another flash from lightning, filling the sky with purple specks before the winds finally gave way.
That was interesting, by her measure. Was that common? She'd have to come back out more during storms and find out. Why not, after all, start seeing all that her self-imposed duty had kept from her.
And yet…
A drop hit her hand. She stared at it until it rolled from her skin, then glanced to the abnormal gathering of clouds overhead. Strange, even in Zeus' tantrums power was not directed to Olympus, and clouds were most definitely never summoned.
"I hear a storm is blowing in. Should you wish to stay dry, I am afraid your sightseeing may have to come to a halt."
The first thing to catch Hestia's attention was his smell. An earthy, damp sort of scent that hinted at plants and petrichor, with the ever so slight note of ozone. A very interesting combination, and not unpleasant by any means.
"What is a bit of water to a god?." She didn't look as she spoke. The dour mood flooded back, with a dread of what the coming conversation could be.
"That would depend on the god, my Lady."
There was no need of a response for that, and while she wouldn't scare him off she wasn't exactly in the mood for whatever political maneuvering, requests or flirting this would turn out to be. Well, that sounded harsher than she'd like- not that it mattered as nothing more than a thought.
"For a powerful goddess- whom possesses impeccable taste in sitting locations- such as yourself, water means very little I'm certain," He started. The compliment certainly didn't evade her notice, though she tamped the spark of warmth it drew, "For a simpler being, though? I do believe I've met a god who couldn't get wet, lest he perish."
"Oh? I've never heard of such a god."
"One from another pantheon, I'm sure." He countered easily, "Enough of that though. If I may accompany you?"
At last, she turned, and caught her first sight of him.
In her sitting position he towered over her, though even standing he was likely about twice her height. Not taller than her brothers, but even being at the same height was no small feat- though it didn't mean much to gods capable of changing form, there was a certain gall to making yourself the same height as the King of Olympus.
Actually, he looked remarkably like Poseidon. Tanned, sharp features, albeit with a certain contradictory softness that made him distinct from her brother.
His eyes though, were a far more clear distinction. Swirling bluish gray, like the cloud floor below the flying city, filled with an easy amusement.
"As you wish." She returned to watching the clouds below, feeling almost awkward for the amount of time she'd been staring, "You will not find what you seek in my company, though, I am afraid."
"I seek only the company of the goddess Hestia. Surely I can find it in your presence, my Lady?"
That made her smile. It was a rare thing to have any being seek her out these days, be it mortal or otherwise. She didn't necessarily believe that was all he wanted, but just hearing the words was pleasant all the same.
"For all that it is worth, at the moment. I am not much of a companion today, I fear."
"Oh? What rests so heavily on such a mind, then?" He dropped to the ground beside her with calm ease, the white cloth of his shirt swirling in the gusts of wind, leaning on his elbows and staring into the sky.
She hesitated to respond. He was kind, so far at least, considerate enough, and one of the few to ask anything for her care recently. He had asked, yes, but would it not be rude to whine and complain and Tartarus forbid start crying.
"Nothing of which you must worry yourself with."
"I must not worry myself with anything, save the next storm." He looked her way, leveling her an expression of… warmth? Compassion? She wasn't sure, "I choose to worry for you, who holds the council itself together with all her might."
"Surely then, you seek another." She plucked at her own fingers, unable to meet his eyes with the notion, unable to face the brunt of her failures. Whatever held Olympus together it had nothing to do with her, "I fear that even I know not of what prevents war among the Olympians."
"Your modesty is boundless, My Lady."
"Simple truths, no modesty about it." She pressed, a bit harshly, then sighed, "I cannot even seem to keep myself at peace, much less a council of any sort."
He didn't respond at first. The strange 'hovering rain' repeated at inconsistent intervals, though almost always when there was a barrage of lightning to illuminate the display.
Was he causing this somehow? Who had come to seek her out? A similar appearance to Poseidon would imply a relation to the sea, if not to her brother directly. Had he noticed something during his spat with Zeus, and sent a child after her?
No, no, out of the three of her brothers, he would sooner visit personally. It was simply his nature. That Hestia had seen over the course of her life, both in relation to herself personally and others.
"Did you know," She blinked, and glanced at him in her peripheral, "these clouds, the storm bearers, they can weigh as much as the gigante children of the earth mother? Much more than the mortals know, or could imagine."
"Oh?"
He nodded, almost like he'd never had the chance to mention such a thing.
"A portion of the seas themselves hangs above the mortals, and they have not the mind to even consider all that may entail."
"I had never considered it." Hestia admitted.
"Of course, of course. The storms do little to affect you though, my Lady. The same cannot be said for those below." He snatched a raindrop from its path to the city , rolling it about his palm in an elaborate display until it rested atop three steepled fingers, "even those who study that which is so important to their existence do not truly understand the scale, the power with which it comes to pass."
"It sounds like you quite enjoy storms."
"Why, of course,"
"I do not believe we have met." She ventured, "I would recall if I had seen you before, surely."
His smile was a crooked, genuine thing that looked hard to fake. The droplet in his hold flashed a stormy gray, then rolled from his fingers, returning to its path as though it had never been hindered.
"I am glad my face is so memorable, my Lady. No, we have never met, though I've heard much of the lovely goddess of the Hearth." He gave a slight bow hindered by his position, grin impossibly wider with the slightest warmth that found her cheeks with his words, "I suppose I did not introduce myself. Perseus, god of storms, at your service."
"Then I suppose I have you to thank for this?"
"That would be Lady Demeter, whom requested I give Olympus a little drizzle for some of the plants she has taken up growing here." He leaned forward, tone dipping to an almost conspiratorial whisper, "The reason she's taken to growing plants in the mortal fashion is beyond me, but I would wager a bottle of nectar she wishes to relive raising dearest Persephone."
His breath was warm, even as the lightest puff of air that dusted her cheeks. It was an interesting theory, one that had a bit of merit- dearest Demeter did so miss all the time spent with Kore before Hades had come around.
"A remarkable theory," She said, all at once aware of the proximity at which they sat. With consciousness, she leaned away, using the space to gesture to the open sky before them. The floating droplets had not returned, but they had both leaned a bit closer than she should probably allow, "however, I was referring to the rain coming from below."
"Ah, yes." As though a switch had been flipped, droplets swung into place, dutifully hovering with a gods will, "Just some fun I had figured out many centuries ago."
"It's beautiful." Hestia mused, staring at the endless expanse as it erupted into a vibrant show of purple and white.
"I thank you, my Lady, but it is just a parlor trick of my domain. There are far more beautiful things about this floating city of yours."
"A son of Poseidon, then? I see the ocean in your face."
"Thalassa, actually. A bit of a long story attached to that, but I hail not of your line."
Interesting. Interesting indeed. She liked seeing gods from outside of the line of Kronos, they seemed to sport a different air. They certainly didn't know what it was to be swallowed but each had a hardship unique to themselves, save for the nigh universal issue of dealing with Zeus.
What would it be, to have such a domain? Something so intrinsically powerful- volatile almost. Something so much more present, and real within the world below.
Near the beginning of it all she had desired a domain as such. Had actually desired storms. It was a beautifully destructive thing, one that might have given her something more to stand upon. Something that would back a harder position, and perhaps even provide her the backbone to fight for it.
"So you tell why you are on Olympus," She started, smoothing a frayed string back into the fabric of her dress, "yet you have not told as to why you seek me out."
"Would you prefer solitude? I do not want to impo-"
"No!" She interrupted, far too quickly. A self conscious flush pushed to the surface, warming her face, "No, I am greatful for the company. Call it an idle curiosity. It is not often I am searched for, these days."
"And all the bigger fools they are for not doing so." He added fervently. Now it was his turn to realize himself, though he didn't look half as embarrassed as she felt for her outburst, "If I am to be candid, I was curious. My mother told me of the wise, ever kind goddess of the hearth, and since an opportunity to see such a lady arose for myself, I took the opportunity."
Ah. Well, it wasn't a bad reasoning, by any means. Priapus had taken the cake on 'worst reason to seek her out', and that was a hard achievement to surpass. It was nice to have someone do so at all, yes, but some part of her wanted it to be something beyond curiosity. What that was though, not even she knew.
"It seems, though, I was sent by something a bit more complicated than a whim."
"Hm?"
"I was sent here for a reason. I do hope it is not too forward to say such a thing, my Lady, but it is clear something plagued your thoughts."
"And what, pray tell, will you do to remedy that?"
"Sometimes," He wagered a glance over his shoulder, tone dropping back to conspiracy, "Artemis and Apollo bribe me, so that they need not set the sun or moon. Simply a few clouds on the horizon and…"
He gestured vaguely, and although she knew his intent she let him distract.
"Oh? Artemis does not seem the sort to bribe."
"She would certainly like to keep it that way." He responded with a wink, "Your niece, I fear, has a habit for bets and bribes. Why, there was this time back in England-"
Perseus was good at telling stories. One tale weaved to another and another, each punctuated with impressions and wild gestures. From bribes to hunts, to duals and deals. From Ares, to Zeus, to the Egyptian magicians. Nothing was off the table, and nothing was boring.
She couldn't resist smiling, laughing at every exaggerated tone and joke, applauding the end of every tale and leaning in as he started anew.
In recent history, it was the most she'd laughed in a day. Hades, it was the most she'd laughed in centuries. Certainly the most she'd talked, chiming in with whatever guesses, agreements or quips of her own that he drew from her.
"Perseus! Are you trying to drown my Irises!"
Demeter, a veritable battering ram into the flow of conversation, appeared from the trees. She froze at the sight of Hestia and her target, stared as they did the same.
"My apologies, My Lady, I appear to have lost track of time." Perseus offered, already on his feet. He wasn't the only one.
Hestia watched the moon arc into the night, a pearlescent eye that watched the earth below. She could swear that gaze was upon them. Watching.
"The fault lies with me for distracting your aid, sister."
Demeter's gaze landed on her, only lasting a moment before softening to something different. Something hard to decipher.
"Very well." Demeter nodded, eyes returning to Perseus, the moment gone. She lifted a hand, as though to catch a stray droplet, "Enough rain. I will need you to come back next week, though."
"Of course, as you need."
"Another time, Hestia."
"Another time."
Perseus stayed standing, watching the spot Demeter had last been in sight. A minute passed, then two.
Thunder rattled the sky, despite the vanishing of the clouds. Only a fool would mistake the decree of Zeus for anything else.
"I suppose, dearest goddess, that would be a reminder of my duties." His eyes moved from the sky, back to Hestia. He smiled, and gently took her hand with his, "Another time, I hope. Perhaps even within the next week."
His lips, warm and soft, pressed against her knuckle like a summer breeze against her skin. The hearthflame in her chest billowed, crackling anew.
He parted from her, into the open air beyond the city as though the earth sat underfoot. For a moment, the winds intensified, signifying the coming departure.
"Perseus!" His eyes landed on her, ever kind and curious. Her lips stretched into a smile, "Thank you."
For a beat, the wind stopped, silence grew, the world stilled. Then he returned the gesture.
Something shot from the earth and into his waiting hand. Flowers, strange stringy wispy things of pinkish-whitish blooms.
"To the mortals, these represent resilience. Strange, for such frail things." The winds plucked the flowers from his grasp, depositing them at her feet, "Stay strong, my Lady, let nothing take your hope."
And he was gone.
Hestia stared at the spot he'd been for a moment, then scooped the 'bouquet' off the packed dirt.
She turned on a heel, and carefully began her path back to the hearth, already anticipating the next opportunity to meet the god of storms.