Persephone

ΙΙ

"Percy, come on."

Artemis grinned as she tried to keep up with the pride. She was persistant, anyone would give her that.

"I thought - you said -" Persephone panted, dress catching on the bronze anklets chiming around her feet. She regained the ability to breathe and stood up straight, holding her hands above her head in an attempt to soothe the stitch that her lungs had formed.

She gulped before repeating, "I thought you said this was going to be an easy hunt."

They had descended all the way from Olympus, Apollo chuckling as Persephone smiled her beautiful smile, looking behind her always, making sure her mother hadn't seen her slip out of her chamber. There would be blood to pay if Demeter saw Persephone sneak out in the small hours of the night led by the god of the Sun whom she had, after their last mischievous escapade at Delphi, since been forbidden to see. When they finally arrived at the base of the mountain, Apollo's shining golden chariot landing jarringly on the ground, she had looked up to see the contrast of moon to sun, night to day.

Artemis looked her up and down, from her now uncontrolled, lightning-frizzed hair to her sleeping clothes and bare feet, before smiling toothily.

"Yes," she laughed under her breath, not taking her eyes off the girl. "Yes, she'll do fine here."

Persephone took that as a compliment from the goddess who had once bellowed at her twin so violently that the sun didn't shine for three days.

Artemis now gazed at her levelly, smirking.

"Oh, my child of spring, you have no idea what a hard hunt looks like."

Persephone glared and Apollo snickered again before a brown hand clamped over his mouth and throat from behind, silencing a surprised yelp. Thank gods for handmaidens.

"Sh!" Artemis hissed, piercing her brother with a menacing look, eyebrows furrowed, mouth in a tight, white line. The bow went up.

Everything went silent.

Her hand pulled back, not a creak escaping from the taut string, sapphire eyes narrowed and sparkling in the silver light of the moon. They were fixed on a pale stag, easy to see against the stark contrast of dark brush, stopping for a moment to savour the sweetness of night.

It was a fatal mistake. The hand let loose. The ivory body let out a short, piercing bellow before a reverent silence fell once again over the pack and the male was dead.

Artemis rose from her kneeling position, before stalking over to her kill. The group followed, her maidens much more confidently than the two outsiders who were yet to see much death. She knelt over the body, placed her hand on the creature's head and bowed her own. The entourage did the same.

"We thank you, friend - your sacrifice was needed to feed others less fortunate. Your next life shall be filled with riches and happiness. For now, you are safe."

Persephone wasn't sure what to do. Daughter of Demeter, goddess of the harvest, she had known only springtime, primroses, golden wheat, blue skies. Perhaps that was why she had followed Apollo in all his stupid and thoughtless plans, why she had grasped the opportunity to hunt with his sister, the lady of night and death. It was so different, so alien. An uncomfortable chill slithered up her spine and she shivered in the warmth of the summer night.

Finally, the moon's master lifted her head. Her chin was long and sagittal, and pointed precisely to the brilliant haze of light that was their home. She closed her eyes, breathed in the scent of sacrifice, and rose to her feet.

She looked back at Persephone, whose golden skin had become a shade or two paler. She smiled, sadly this time, and held out her hand.

"Come. We should get you back, before your mother finds you missing."

She paused for a moment, and chuckled darkly before she spat with venomous hatred, "Or Father."

Persephone nodded, and took the proffered hand. Artemis was right. Zeus was an unpleasant being to anger.

She led them to a clearing near the base of the mountain, where an alabaster boar stood waiting. Without hesitation, Artemis lifted the girl up onto the creature's back, and without warning, tenderly stroked her cheek.

"You are a pleasure to hunt with, sister," she said solemnly. "May the gods have mercy on those who face your stubbornness."

Persephone guffawed, the sound ringing around the quiet like golden bells. Artemis grinned, before slapping the boar's behind and calling it, in an ethereal voice, up into the sky. It took off, and the girl riding squealed as it charged into the open air. There was a cackle down below from the huntress, and a glorious beam spread over the daughter of Spring's face as she flung her arms wide open and greeted the sky with exultation and joy.