The Art of Submission

•Two•

"Holy maiden."

Callisto removed her helmet, and bowed respectfully. "Where have you been today?" Artemis questioned as she opened her legs, making a spot for the woman.

Her attendant looked up and sighed. One of Artemis's eyebrows rose, questioning the movement. "I have been consoling a few of the newest attendants. They are still upset at what is happening in the mortal realm. I am exhausted."

"Sit. Let me fix your hair."

The corner of her lips twitched before she made her way over to Artemis. She sat between her legs, back towards her. Artemis began to comb through Callisto's silky tresses with her fingers, finding comfort in the simple action.

"What have they been saying?" Artemis questioned, her eyes straying towards the side of her throne. Her hounds....usually lay beside her. Her bears roamed her dwelling carelessly with their cubs. Even her deer frolicked freely. Now her animals were gone. Her hounds in the underworld safe. The rest of her animals were with Demeter. She knew they would be safe. It still pained her. At least she still had her girls and her family.

Or well some family. Family was a touchy subject amongst the gods and simply just thinking about such things was draining the little energy she did have.

"Nothing against you, holy one. They are worried for their assignments and of course you. Some think that you are weakening." Their assumptions would be correct but that was something the goddess would keep to herself.

She continued to skillfully braid Callisto's hair as she thought on what to say next. "Who thinks I grow weaker?"

Callisto did not hesitate to let who doubted her powers be known. By the end of the list of attendants who had thought weak of her were said aloud, Artemis's hands were shaking. More than half of her females thought she was powerless against Eris. Which simply was not true.

"Your hair is done. Rise."

Her handmaiden rose to her feet and Artemis soon rose after her. She smoothed down her chiton, her eyes blazing with an anger that she had seldom had. No. "Grab Khryselakatos and Iokheira."

She took the heavy tiara that she wore on her head and tossed it onto her throne. Instead, she grabbed her helmet and slid it over her head. The girls were worried for her and losing hope. That was one thing she would never, ever let happen. She would scare them into believers if need be.

Marching out of her chambers, she approached the ethereal courtyard where most of her attendants were. Orbs of moonlight were being held in some hands, scrolls and books in others. Some were practicing their archery skills.

"Who do you say I am?" She shouted, shooting her golden arrow into the ground. The ground under them shook as if a stampede of hounds were approaching, as if her father had sent a bolt straight to their dwelling.

Some fell over, others sunk to the ground in reverence of her. Others stared at her in absolute shock. She repeated her question, looking for eyes who dared to meet her own.

"Who do you say I am?!"

"Eternal maiden!"

"Mistress of women!"

"Defender of Virtue!"

"Master Archress!"

Artemis swelled with pride as the hopeful, almost mournful looks disappeared and was replaced with reverence, adoration and a hint of fear. This is what she lived for.