"Antheia?"
Antheia's head jolted upwards at the sound of her name, her hands still thrust deep into the dirt before her. She blinked rapidly. Tall grass tickled her cheeks even as the sunlight obscured her vision. Antheia pulled a hand free from the earth and used it to shield her eyes, crumbles of dirt falling on to her brow in the process. Then, as the stranger came into focus, she allowed a smile to grace her lips.
"Hi," she greeted, pushing up on to her feet. "It's good to see you again, Owain. You are looking well."
Her eyes drifted from his polished shoes to the sharp cut of his dark blue attire. His face had been shaved, revealing a strong jaw, and his shirt was opened at the neck revealing a hint of his skin and a peak of chest hair. Antheia's heart fluttered. Her free hand absently pressed over her chest but her errant heart wouldn't obey. She swallowed loudly and dragged her eyes up to meet his.
"Yeah, you too." He replied distractedly, a deep furrow between his brow as he surveyed her. His hands rested on the metal gate. It creaked ominously under his touch. His gaze swept over the wild garden before resting on the structure behind her. "I didn't realise you lived here. Come to think of it, I didn't think anyone lived here." He rubbed a hand over his face, aging before her in a single sweep of his hand. "Not that I've paid much attention to the comings and goings in the last year."
A heaviness lingered in the air, his posture drooping as if an invisible weight had dropped on to his shoulders. Antheia opened her mouth before closing it just as quickly. What could she say? Old grief clung to him like a second skin.
Clearing her throat, Antheia glanced away and back towards the house. It boarded up and just as decrepit as the day she had stumbled upon it three weeks before. She wrinkled her nose. How could he think that anyone would live here?
"I don't live here. Nor does anyone else, unless you count the mice."
Owain breathed a sigh of relief. "Oh good, I don't mean to offend you but the place looks like it should be knocked down."
"It is odd, is it not?"
"I'm sorry."
"It is odd that people always say they do not want to cause harm before saying something that could cause harm."
Owains's mouth opened and closed several times. "I -. Uh."
"Fortunately for you, there was no offense taken." Antheia replied with a grin. "I much prefer the garden anyway. I like the sounds of nature better."
The man before her choked, his eyes widening.
"Are you well?"
She stepped closer to him, her hand stretching towards him only to hesitate when she noted the dirt staining her finger tips. She dropped her hands back down to her sides.
"Am I well? Are you well?" Owain frowned, his eyes staring down at her skirts which had definitely seen better days. There were dozens of tears and rips, dirt covering the material in large streaks. There was just as much dirt on her face after a day in the garden. "I'm going to ask you a very delicate question. Please don't get offended."
Antheia arched a brow causing him chuckle.
"Sorry. Slip of the tongue."
"Right. Though, I assure you, it would take a lot to cause offense." Antheia replied, taking a step closer, her head tilting back so that she could peer up at him.
"Do you -. I mean, -. That is to say."
"Owain, ask me your question."
"Do you have a home? That is to say, are you homeless?"
Antheia brushed her hands on her skirt. Then, after the longest pause, she sighed. "It is true that I do not have a place to call my own. However, I am quite content to rest where I can. It is no hardship."
Owain glanced away for several long seconds, his fingers tightening around the metal as he drew in several deep breaths. Antheia's head tilted to the side as she watched several expressions flit across his face before he abruptly pushed open the gate with an ear grating screech. "Come with me."
"Oh, do you need my assistance? I am afraid, the only thing I know to do is tend to plants and crops and entertain the children. I will do my best to help in any way that I can."
"No, I don't need your assistance but I can't leave you here." He replied gruffly. "There's a storm due to hit in a few hours and I can't leave you out here. It's not safe. You can stay the night with us and then, tomorrow-"
"That is really not necessary. I assure you, I am perfectly safe. I have weathered Zeus's temper tantrums. A storm is nothing to fear."
"Zeus's what?" He shook his head. "Antheia, your safety isn't a matter of pride. If you won't stay, at least come to dinner. Please let me help you."
Antheia swallowed. When was the last time someone had offered to help?
Too long.
Antheia had been serving and helping others as far back as she could remember. First, in the service of Aphrodite and then, when she left her service, to the village she had called home. It had never been a hardship. She had enjoyed it even. And yet, receiving an offer from Owain with no expectation of repayment? Her lips pulled up into a smile.
"Dinner sounds wonderful."
"Is there anything you wanted to collect before we go? The storm is expected to last for a few hours."
"No, I have all I need."
Brushing her hands on her skirts once more, Antheia wrinkled her nose when her hands didn't not become any cleaner than they had been before. Still, she slipped past Owain, pausing on the path as he closed the gate behind her. Then, as he fell into step beside her, he turned his head towards her. His eyebrows drew together. Several times, it appeared he was going to say something only to lapse back into silence.
Antheia sighed. "You do not need to pity me. I have lived through worse things, I assure you. This is but a temporary situation. I'll find my way home. I always do."
"You're incredibly brave. I'm not sure I could be so -."
"I would not say brave. I am no warrior. I just deal with the threads that fate have given me. There are things we can control in life and death. More that we cannot." Antheia shrugged, and focused on the path ahead. "I can't spend my life worrying about the things the fates have set in motion. I can only put one foot before the other and hope that I am taking the right path."
Owain nodded his head. "I wish I could be more like you. I spend more of my life worrying than not. After everything that happened with -." He shook his head. "Anyway, Ellie has a habit of getting herself into trouble."
Antheia's lips tilted up at the mention of her priestess. "I had noticed."
He laughed in response, shaking his head as he did so. "Oh, that was tame. She's just like her mum, fiercely independent and determined to protect others. I love and fear that above all else." He snorted and shook his head. "She came home a few months ago with a bloody swan. How she got the thing to follow her home, I'll never know. Have you ever had a swan in your garden? They're beautiful but damn are they vicious when riled up. I had to call in the RSPCA for help."
Antheia laughed with him even if many of his words filled her with confusion. RSPCA? Even her goddess powers were not good enough to interpret that.
Instead, she simply replied, "Swans are majestic creatures."
"More like angry."
"That too."
Owain slowed and pushed open a gate, his lips curled up into a smile. "Here we are. Home sweet home."
"You have a beautiful home." She said, and she meant it. Not in appearance. It looked like all of the others in the street. Yet, she could feel it all - the love. The hopes. The dreams of the family that made the house their home. It was like being wrapped in a warm hug.
He shrugged and glanced up at the house. Owain's smile dropped after a moment, his eyes shimmering with unshed tears.
"I can't take any of the credit. My -." He paused and took a deep breath. "My wife picked it. She was -."
He cut himself off. Then with a shake of his head he strode along the small path to the front door. Antheia followed in his wake, her mind caught on just one word. Was.
She had sensed his loss at the campsite. She had felt the echo of it within her own soul. And yet, she had hoped she had been wrong. But she wasn't. The truth of his grief was laid open before her in pure heart wrenching agony.
Poor Owain.
Poor Ellie.
Pressing a hand over her heart, Antheia's chest ached. It would tear her in two. Loving someone that much only to lose them? Antheia's parents had loved her and she them. And yet, there had always been a distance between them. The divine weren't exactly known for their parenting skills.
Antheia's fingernails bit into her skin. They wouldn't lose anyone else - not if she could stop it.
Antheia stepped over the threshold and, a few moments later, the door closed firmly behind her. She turned. Standing in the cramped hallway, an odd silence fell between them. She shifted from foot to foot, her hands falling to her side and gripping tightly on to her skirts. He looked at her. She glanced away.
After a moment, Owain cleared his throat loudly as he rubbed at the back of his neck.
"Right, well, Ellie will be home in a bit. She'll be excited to see you again. She hadn't stopped telling everyone about the princess that saved her from the river."
"I'm not a princess."
"Perhaps not but you are her hero. Mine too if I'm being honest." He cleared his throat loudly. "Well, I'll grab you some things and you can get cleaned up if you like?" Owain said, backing up even as he spoke. "Do you have any dietary preferences?"
Antheia frowned and hesitantly shook her head.
"Great." He announced before brushing past her. Owain paused at the bottom of a staircase, his hand resting on the railing. He glanced back over his shoulder. "If you follow me, I'll show you to the bathroom and I'll find you something warm to wear. Okay?"
"Sounds wonderful."
A few minutes later, Antheia was ensconced in a very white room broken up only by starfish and seashells painted haphazardly on the tiled walls. Steam billowed around her as Antheia peered at herself in the mirror.
She grimaced.
She was a mess. It was the only way to describe it.
Despite the days spent in the garden, tending to the neglected plants and flowers, her skin had an unhealthy pallor. Dirt clung to her brow and the apples of her cheeks, leaves and twigs were tangled in her hair, and her eyes, which had always had a golden shimmer of power, were so distinctly ... ordinary. She averted her gaze, unable to bear even the weight of her own judgment.
After a deep breath, she glanced down. Heat crawled up her neck and spread over her cheeks. How had she let it come to this?
Even her favourite dress was nothing more than rags and yet, she didn't want to remove it. Witnessing Owain's grief had brought her own to the surface. It was all she had left. It was the last remnant of the life she had had before.
And yet, holding on to the ghosts of her past would not help her priestess and her father.
With a sigh, Antheia slowly reached up and untangled the fastenings. The grimy fabric dropped around her feet and then, after sweeping it to the side with her foot, she stepped into the shower. It stung. It soothed. As hot water rained down from above and washed the dirt from her skin, her hair plastered to her back, she allowed one single tear to fall as she remembered all that she had lost.
Then, she turned her face up to the spray and scrubbed away any evidence of her tears. There would be time to grieve in the future. For now, she had work to do.