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Chapter Text

“Come now, Artemis, must you try so hard to evade me?”

Artemis doesn’t turn around. She continues her swift departure from Mount Olympus, yearning for the solitude of her forests, trying to put as much distance as possible between herself and Aphrodite without looking like she’s outright fleeing the goddess. But Aphrodite surely knows she’s running away from her, and she resents conceding that Aphrodite has even this small of an influence over her.

Just a bit farther until Artemis reaches her golden chariot and the comforting presence of her golden-antlered deer, and then she’ll be flying down from this accursed mountain and settling back into her forests.

But when Artemis rounds the corner of the last palace, she finds Aphrodite floating beside her chariot, running her fingers through a golden-antlered deer’s soft pelt.

Exasperation pricks at Artemis’s temples. Of course she wouldn’t be able to leave Olympus without Aphrodite cornering her. In an undeserved display of graciousness, Artemis doesn’t draw her bow一yet一and instead settles for gripping it tightly at her side until her knuckles turn white.

This is a familiar game for them, or at least Aphrodite probably thinks it’s a game. Aphrodite follows Artemis to tease her and talk to her and try to get a reaction out of her, and despite herself Artemis lets her keep coming. It’s not that Artemis likes the attention, it’s just that she chooses not to protest it with anything more than barbed words. After all, Artemis is the one who transcends the scope of Aphrodite’s powers and trickery in the end.

Aphrodite smirks at her. Her long pink hair barely conceals her nude body. “Your deer are as lovely as you are, little huntress.”

“I don’t remember giving you permission to touch them. Or to be near my chariot at all.”

“Sending me away so soon? But I have much to discuss with you! I see you’re in a hurry to leave, so you can simply take me with you.”

The suggestion catches Artemis off guard. No one asks to ride with her. “I’m leaving alone. And stop petting my deer!”

“You can’t expect me to resist such gorgeous creatures.” Aphrodite strokes the deer’s neck. “Even from afar, they look simply stunning as they draw your chariot, and they are even more beautiful up close.”

An odd warmth blooms in Artemis’s chest to hear her deer appreciated, which makes her hate this situation even more. She knows Aphrodite has an agenda. The praise only makes Artemis more suspicious of what that agenda might be.

“Just tell me what you want so I can get back to my forests,” Artemis says.

Aphrodite shakes her head disapprovingly. “Always in such a hurry to find a target to shoot at. I was thinking we could turn this into a little occasion, enjoy each other’s company before getting down to business, hm? What do you say?”

“We just came from another of my father’s interminable banquets. I’ve had enough of other gods’ company for the next few ages.”

“You’re so cute when you lie. I know you’re running right back into the arms of your wood nymphs.” Aphrodite steps into Artemis’s chariot and leans over its side, silky hair flowing down like running water over her body. “Why not invite another woman along?”

The sight of Aphrodite in her chariot should make Artemis furious, but instead it kicks up a swirling mix of emotions that she can’t interpret.

Not knowing what else to do, Artemis draws her bow and aims it at the center of Aphrodite’s forehead.

Aphrodite just laughs. “Are you really so frightened of me that you need a weapon?”

“I am not scared of you.”

“Then do tell me what it is you feel about me.” Aphrodite raises her eyebrows, as if she knows the answer and is keeping it secret from Artemis herself. She can’t stand it when Aphrodite does that. It makes her second-guess herself.

“Annoyed,” Artemis snaps, but it lacks force, and her bow has slackened.

“Well, we can’t have that, can we?” Aphrodite waves her over. “I’ll do things your way this time. Come, share your chariot with me, and I will indulge you right away with what I’ve come to you for.”

Slowly, Artemis steps into her chariot and clings to the opposite wall, standing as far away from Aphrodite as is possible in the enclosed space. Naturally, Aphrodite glides over immediately, pressing her hip against Artemis’s and letting her hair fall on the bare skin of her arm. Sure, it doesn’t feel unpleasant, and Aphrodite smells nice, but she could at least give Artemis some fragment of personal space, especially when she isn’t wearing clothing. Not that she's ever wearing clothing.

Artemis clears her throat. “Well?”

“I’d like you to do a favor for me.”

“Wow, could’ve never guessed that. And what makes you think I’ll do a favor for you?”

“Because I’ll do you a favor in return, of course.”

“What do you want?”

Aphrodite pets the raccoon fur shawl across Artemis’s shoulders, smoothing it methodically. Artemis stiffens at the touch, if it is even possible for her to stiffen more.

“There is a prince whose next hunt is in need of a personal blessing,” Aphrodite says.

Artemis pushes Aphrodite’s hand away. “Oh no, I am not getting involved with another of your favored mortals. They’re nothing but trouble!”

“And your favored mortals aren’t?”

“My devotees commit their lives to chastity and heroism. Yours live lives of insanity. Honestly I don’t know what you see in most of them.”

A dark look flickers across Aphrodite’s face. She floats upward, gaining even more height over Artemis. “Such as whom?” she asks, a hint of tension in her voice. It’s a dare, not a question.

It’s probably a bad idea to take the bait. But Artemis is exhausted from the banquet and frazzled from dealing with her loud-mouthed father and uncles and half-siblings, and all she wants is to hide alone in her woods, and Aphrodite has been making her feel nervous and off-center and weird every time they talk, and she doesn’t want to be mean to Aphrodite but maybe it’ll make her go away sooner.

“Paris, for example?” Artemis says. “He had the nerve to call himself an archer when he was too cowardly for a fair fight and too unskilled to land a killing blow without Apollo guiding his arrows一and on top of all that, he was a wife-kidnapper who started an entire war!”

“A war in which you supported Paris’s side, do not forget. Hypocrisy is not becoming of you.”

But Artemis pushes on. “I’ve even heard that Helen was under your spell一”

Aphrodite’s hair seems to swell with her anger, forming a ring around her. “Do not speak ill of my subjects. Paris and Helen were the most beautiful mortals in the land, and they loved each other dearly!”

“Whatever. Just count me out of your deal.”

“Fine,” Aphrodite says in a way that means it is very much not fine and Artemis will be hearing about this again very soon. She delicately cups Artemis’s chin in her hand, causing Artemis’s breath to hitch. “How foolish, to not even hear what I would offer in return for your blessing. Those who receive special treatment from me consider themselves very lucky.”

“Then I wonder why I can think of so many who would say you have cursed them.”

The taunt doesn’t land. Aphrodite’s anger has already dissipated, her sly smile back in place as she steps out of the chariot. “I’ll let you ponder it for a while. I just thought it would be nice for us to have a common cause for once, that’s all.”

“Our causes are rarely compatible.”

“Dearest, I know much more about compatibility than you do.”

Aphrodite is gone with a flash, leaving the scent of roses on the breeze.

Chapter Text

Artemis returns to the sanctuary of her forests, a sinking feeling in her stomach like on the rare occasions a target slips out of her sight.

She’s missed something. Although escaping getting dragged into one of Aphrodite’s schemes (for now) is something to rejoice over, Artemis can’t help but wonder about the exact details of what she had been planning. Who was the mortal Aphrodite wanted her to bless? What favor had Aphrodite been willing to offer in return?

Not that Artemis cares. Just that she’s…curious.

As much as she enjoys her peaceful life of avoiding Olympus and only hearing about the petty squabbles of her relatives by the time it’s old news, she doesn’t like missing information once she knows a plot has been set into motion, especially if it involves her. Curiosity is an asset. A huntress should always be aware of her surroundings.

But it doesn’t matter. Artemis is content to live in ignorant bliss of whatever Aphrodite had been about to tell her after that banquet. If it is truly important, Aphrodite will no doubt be back to annoy her again, shameless as she is.

Artemis channels her frustrations into the hunt, a much more worthy pursuit than Aphrodite’s frivolous games. She roams the snowy forest with Callisto, both to hunt and to survey her domain, enlivened by the cold air, the crunching sound of animals leaving footprints in the snow, and Callisto’s steady silent presence. Artemis’ owls perch in the trees nearby, conducting a hunt of their own for the forest’s smaller creatures.

Now and then, Artemis encounters mortals, bundled in furs and searching for game to sustain them through the never-ending winter. Artemis has always been sympathetic of them, and she assists their hunts according to their prayers and her own whims一but she has no sympathy for the Patraeans. The people of Patrae have been overhunting recently, disrupting the balance of her forests without even paying Artemis respect with the proper prayers and offerings.

Whenever the arrogant Patraeans cross her path, she thwarts their hunts with tricks ranging from quietly snipping their bowstrings to having Callisto transform into a bear and chase them, which is always fun to watch.

And if they don’t learn their lesson soon, Artemis will have no qualms about resorting to harsher tactics. They are becoming difficult to manage.

After patrolling the full range of the forests, Artemis and Callisto are just beginning to relax by watching a pack of wolves when a strange sensation rises up from the earth.

The ground trembles softly. But it is no earthquake, and the tremors are so faint that nothing in the forest seems to notice them.

The tremors must be coming from outside the mortal realm. Artemis’ first thought is that one of her less powerful relatives is throwing a tantrum on Mount Olympus.

“Do you feel that?” she asks Callisto.

Callisto furrows her brow, taking a moment to consider it. Artemis has always liked this about her, her careful attention to detail.

Callisto shakes her head. “I don’t feel anything unusual. What is it?”

If the best of her huntresses cannot detect the tremors, whatever Artemis is sensing is faint indeed, too faint to originate from Olympus.

Which means…it must be from the Underworld.

“I don’t know what it is,” Artemis says. “but I intend to find out. Gather the nymphs and huntresses to ensure the most sacred creatures of the forest are unharmed. I’ll investigate alone.”

Artemis travels to the Deathly Glade, a small patch of the forest that is more connected to the Underworld than anywhere else in her domain. The dark stump of a felled tree marks the central point of connection to Hades’ realm, and the plants surrounding it are black and withered from a blight seeping out of the pit of death beneath them, but the decay remains confined to this small glade.

If the tremors are truly originating from the Underworld, Artemis will be able to confirm it here. She touches her palms to the rotting black tree stump and closes her eyes.

The tremors are stronger now, and other sensations mix with them. The cries of beasts slain, the strike of a holy weapon, the smoke of toxic fire一undoubtedly the carnage of battle, but it is a war that feels foreign to Artemis, a war among the dead rather than the living.

But there are also familiar elements. A bit too familiar.

Mixed with the turmoil are the impenetrable fortress of Athena’s shield and the crushing pressure of Ares’ doom.

Of course her siblings are already meddling.

Strongest, and strangest, of all is the aura of a third god that dominates everything else by far. But Artemis can’t recognize the deity. It seems to be cloaked by the Underworld itself, resonating only pure power with nothing that could be used to identify the source of that power.

Could it be a chthonic monster? An unnamed god? Or even Hades himself?

Whatever is shaking up the Underworld, it must be big.

Excitement rushes through Artemis at the mystery. She has a new scent to track down. Something unique to hunt. And she is in a prime position to scope out the situation early, before more of her relatives are involved and things get complicated.

Her curiosity almost overwhelms her, but she hesitates from making any rash movements. The Underworld repels her divine blood, as gods are overflowing with life, and to probe all the way down to the depths of the Underworld would require so much power that she would easily give away her intrusion. Revealing herself would not be wise, not yet, not before she knows more about what she’s hunting.

So she does something she almost never does: calls Hermes.

Chapter Text

With a golden-red flash and a gust of wind, Hermes streaks down into the Deathly Glade, so fast that Artemis has barely even begun to wait for his arrival.

His wings and scarf lick the air like flames, always flapping and billowing with haste whether or not he’s flying. Against the dreary backdrop of the Deathly Glade with its cold dim light and decaying black plants, Hermes looks even more radiant than usual, like a fire on a dark night. But he doesn’t glow as much as Artemis does, his tan skin grayer than most other gods, no doubt due to his frequent trips to the Underworld which drains the vibrancy of even the most powerful beings.

“Hey there, Sis!” Hermes smirks. “I’ll admit, this is a rather depressing place to give me a call from. Feeling alright?”

“Hm, I do wonder, why might I call you to the only place in my domain with a close connection to the Underworld?”

He shrugs. “Never know. Was just being thoughtful.”

Artemis rolls her eyes. “Just tell me, what’s been happening down in Hades lately?”

“Oh, souls taking ferries, heroes drinking the Lethe, shades suffering eternally, the usual.”

“And that’s all?” Artemis crosses her arms. “No news?”

“You know me better than to ask that, Sis. There’s always news!”

For someone who claims to be in a rush all the time, Hermes has an infuriating love of roundabout conversations. His eyes twinkle with humor as he watches Artemis, waiting for the reward of his goading.

Artemis considers kicking him out of her forests just for being annoying, maybe sending her three owls pecking and clawing at him to chase him away, but the easiest, fastest way to get information is through Hermes’ mouth, and she can’t banish him before he spits out his latest gossip.

A sensation seeps through the rotting tree trunk Artemis has pressed her palm to.

The power of Dionysus, bubbling up from the Underworld.

Artemis' feeling of urgency doubles. What down there is so fascinating that even the laziest of her brethren has gotten sucked in? Honestly, she feels a stab of spite for being left out of the loop.

“Tell me what’s causing such a commotion in Hades that there seems to be all-out warfare over it,” Artemis orders. “Without any glib embellishments, if you’re capable of that.”

Crinkles form around Hermes’ eyes as he grins. “Thought you’d never ask. OK, no embellishments: Ever heard of a lad named Zagreus?”

“...No.” Was this the name of the powerful, unfamiliar presence Artemis sensed?

“Knew you wouldn’t’ve. This is fresh news, and no message travels faster than me.”

“You’re embellishing.”

He ignores her. “Turns out we’ve got a little cousin down there!”

Artemis takes a moment to let the revelation settle in. “A cousin? So this Zagreus must be…Hades’ son.”

“Sure is! Unfortunately for him. He’s so unhappy about it that he’s actually trying to break out of the Underworld, join us on Olympus. Don’t know how he expects to do it, but he’s sure putting in a lot of effort. Got some help already, which I'm sure you've noticed. I’m staying out of it, of course.”

Artemis is skeptical that he'll truly avoid getting involved, but the news is too interesting for her to dwell on Hermes’ role in it.

A new cousin. In the Underworld, of all places!

The idea of yet another relative shouldn’t be appealing to Artemis, given how the rest of her family turned out, but it sounds like Zagreus has a rebellious streak, turning against his own father to escape to his prison of a domain. She can’t help but begin to like her little cousin already.

“Funny you brought this up,” Hermes continues, “because I’ve actually got a message for you from Nyx—well, technically from Nyx through Athena—on this exact topic.”

“Mother Night? She rarely speaks to anyone.”

Artemis feels a stroke of pride for discovering Zagreus before Hermes, fastest of the gods, had time to deliver the message of his existence. Her hunting skills are still the best across all of Olympus. But a sourness stirs inside her knowing that Nyx had contacted Athena first. As a moon goddess, isn’t Artemis more closely intertwined with the night than Athena is? Shouldn’t she have been first to hear the news, and certainly at least before Ares and Dionysus?

But Hermes launches into the message before Artemis can think about it more, and she forgets her moment of irritation.

So rapidly that she can barely follow it, Hermes explains Nyx’s plea for the gods of Olympus to assist Zagreus in his escape, how to contact him, even how to reach through the vast defenses of the Underworld to grant him new powers.

Because he will need the help of all of Olympus to achieve something this impossible. Luckily for Zagreus, disdain for Hades is about the only thing Olympus can agree on.

“Athena will gather the whole family for a banquet to formally announce Nyx’s request. But she wanted a few special folks to hear the news early,” Hermes says with a wink.

“How generous of her.”

At least Athena is too strategic to hoard the knowledge for herself until the banquet, since her powers alone won’t be enough to fully protect Zagreus. Artemis is already brimming with excitement at the chance to prove just how instrumental her help will be.

The wings on Hermes’ boots begin to flutter. “Well, you know what you need to do now. If that’s all, then I’ll be—”

“Wait,” Artemis calls before she can think about it.

“What is it, Sis?”

There is a question that’s been nagging at her, which Hermes might know the answer to: the identity of the mortal whom Aphrodite wants her to bless, and why Aphrodite needs this favor in the first place.

But even a casual inquiry will make Hermes suspicious, since Artemis has always made a point of never caring about Aphrodite’s business, and any question would seem to come out of nowhere. Even if Artemis can conceal her motives, Hermes will think of a hundred ways to tease her about her sudden interest in the goddess, and word might even get back to Aphrodite. Those two gossipers get along a little too well.

She strikes down those petty worries. Why should she care?

“I just want to ask if…” she begins. “Um…”

Hermes raises an eyebrow.

“Ugh, never mind.” It’s not like Aphrodite is worth fretting over, anyway. “You’re free to talk someone else’s ear off.”

Something about Hermes’ grin says that he knows she’s hiding something. “Well, call me if you change your mind.”

With a gust of wind and a streak of gold, Hermes dashes away, leaving Artemis feeling rather stupid.

But her spirits lift quickly—she has a new cousin to meet.

Chapter Text

For a long time, Artemis feels nothing.

Then, a faint pulse, growing stronger and stronger until: “Olympus? I accept this message!”

The essence of Zagreus’s power hits her in full, though its effect on her is no more than a pinprick across this far of a distance, as Artemis stands in the Deathly Glade of her forests and Zagreus remains trapped in the deepest pits of the Underworld.

She can definitely sense the blood of Hades in him, ichor once shining and golden, transmuted into something heavier and murkier after corrupted by eons in the realm of the dead. But a distinct vitality pulses through him that seems out of place in the Underworld, something that can't be contained by its depths, something that makes her feel that Zagreus was always bound to try to escape.

She also smells a whiff of her half-siblings’ power on him. Metal, blood, and wine: Athena, Ares, and Dionysus.

But what really gives Artemis pause is the thrum of ancient power from the Stygian Blade, Uncle Poseidon’s weapon from the days of the Titans. That sword is older than Artemis, and now it’s in the hands of one of her youngest cousins. A little strange to think about.

She channels her voice through the link that connects her to Zagreus, hoping the words reach him.

“I’ve heard about you,” she says. “I see you’ve already met a few of my siblings. Well, I’m not like the rest of that lot. The power of the hunt keeps me company. Maybe it can help you, too.”

“A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Lady Artemis. I’m honored to receive your aid,” Zagreus says in a perfect Olympian accent.

Zagreus’s polite lilting voice is jarring when Artemis had expected the harsher Underworld speech pattern that she associates with the few times she’s heard the chthonic gods speak (or Hermes jokingly imitate them). What else about this little god will surprise her?

“Well, um,” Artemis fumbles, suddenly unsure of what to say. “Let’s get to it, then."

She imbues the Stygian Blade with her strength, fortifying its structure and sharpening its blade, sinking her teeth into its metal and forcing it to shape itself into a new weapon, one so deadly that it can kill an enemy in a single strike. Together, she and Zagreus blaze through chamber after chamber of Tartarus, leaving destruction in their wake.

“Your aim is as true as the legends say,” Zagreus says.

“And flattery makes one’s aim even better, as I’m sure you know.”

Zagreus chuckles. “I’m being genuine, truly. I haven’t heard many legends—just a few songs and poems of the mortals that my mentor taught me, he never shared many—but you’ve made quite the impact in them.”

“Mortal poems? I’m no poet, but I do know that mortals haven’t captured half the melodrama of the stories we gods tell about each other.”

“I would like to hear them all, one day.”

“Believe me, most of them you’d rather not hear.”

“You must know that saying that just makes me more curious.”

Artemis smirks, and though Zagreus can’t see her, she imagines he can sense the fluctuation in her power according to her mood. “Once you make it up here, you’ll know what I mean. There’s a reason I keep to my forests. So who is this mentor who’s deprived you of the mortals’ full records of Olympian gossip?”

“Ah, I should have given him his due credit, for I couldn’t have asked for a better mentor. I was taught by Achilles.”

“Oh. Wow. Only the greatest warrior who ever lived. No wonder you can hold your own down there. Tell…tell Achilles I say hi.”

“I’d be happy to.”

They return to fighting shades, which Artemis is glad for, before she can say something embarrassing about her (completely justified!) fascination with Achilles. There is perhaps no mortal she admires as much as him. At least Zagreus surely shares her respect for the hero and would understand where her sentiment comes from.

Aphrodite, on the other hand…

She shudders at how Aphrodite would pester her if she caught a whiff of Artemis’s friendly admiration of Achilles, how the single-minded goddess of love would intentionally twist and misinterpret the motivation behind Artemis’s passion.

Not that she has plans of talking to Aphrodite anytime soon. The only relevant thing about Aphrodite is whether or not she decides to lend her powers to Zagreus.

If she doesn't help Zagreus, Artemis is going to have a few things to say about that.

Because, as Artemis is surprised to discover, she’s becoming invested in her cousin’s success.

The longer she helps him, she more she grows fond of him. He’s exceptionally easy to talk to, which is a high compliment given that Artemis rarely enjoys talking to anyone but her nymphs. He treats her with the deference she deserves, but also with the comfortable casualness of a friend, and he possesses the unbridled determination and fighting spirit that Artemis seeks in her hunting companions.

On the day that Athena summons all of the strongest gods and goddesses to Olympus to announce Nyx’s request for help, Artemis is ready to vouch for Zagreus without question.

She actually wants to partake in a family discussion. It’s unheard of.

The banquet is one of the largest of the last few centuries. Nyx must have instructed Athena to cast a wide net, all the better to thwart Hades. By now, most of the Olympians have already heard the news, and a few like Artemis have even lent their power to Zagreus once or twice before the banquet, but the formal announcement from Athena is necessary to keep everyone appeased by the façade of equal treatment.

In the massive marble hall that hosts the banquet's many guests, Artemis selects a kline beside Apollo, one of the few members of her family she can actually tolerate. Well, at least a higher chance of tolerating.

Unfortunately, her seat is directly across from Hermes and Aphrodite, who are giggling with each other like frivolous nymphs. Once they notice her, Hermes winks, and Aphrodite gives a languid wave that Artemis doesn’t return.

“Have you met the man of the hour yet?” Apollo asks.

Artemis realizes that she’s been so busy helping Zagreus and maintaining her forests, especially keeping the pesky over-hunting Patreans in line, that she hasn’t caught up with Apollo in a while.

“Yes, I've met Zagreus,” she replies.

“Anything noteworthy about him?”

“You haven’t talked to him yourself?” She had assumed that Apollo would have loved the opportunity make a gaudy first impression.

Apollo waves his hand pompously. “I’ve been a bit preoccupied lately. Prophecies, medicines, keeping the sun in the sky, you know how it is.”

“Wow, I never knew you had so many responsibilities! Might want to try something called prioritization. Come on, Apollo, this is important.”

“Then how come you haven’t told me anything noteworthy about the lad yet?”

“Look, I believe in him. He really has a chance of making it.”

“If that’s the case, then I doubt he needs my help.”

“You!—Self-serving twat—”

Athena’s attendants call everyone to attention before Artemis can pester him more.

Chapter Text

Wasting no time, Athena delves right into a long diplomatic speech, appealing to the many differing interests and agendas represented in such a large assembly of gods. Meanwhile, Aphrodite keeps trying to catch Artemis’s eye across the hall, as if playing childish games was the main objective of this banquet.

She ignores the idiotic behavior and focuses on Athena’s speech, which is admittedly quite good. Although she and her half-sister have had some disagreements, Artemis can’t deny that Athena has a way with words that Artemis truly lacks…but she has replaced it with more useful skills like hunter’s intuition, of course.

Some gods pledge to help Zagreus, but many remain unmoved—even Apollo, the self-serving imp! Artemis had expected that it would be difficult to rally everyone to Zagreus’s side, but if her own twin brother is among the most stubborn, Zagreus may be in more trouble than she’d thought.

“Athena, my daughter, your words are beautiful as they are clever,” Father Zeus interrupts, “but we need not always bury the meat of the matter in elegance.” He addresses the entire assembly of gods. “This is a prime opportunity to thwart my odious brother, who expends so much effort to trouble us. I, for one, will take this opportunity with much pleasure, and those who don’t are either cowards or fools.”

Artemis cringes. Leave it to Father to lead the way with arrogance. But it is an effective rallying point.

“Not to get too far off topic,” Dionysus chips in, “—and by the way, I’ve got to be clear, that crazy chap Zag down in the Underworld has definitely got my support, and I expect you all to join the party!—but like my dad said, my Uncle Hades has been pretty annoying lately, right? And I’ve been thinking…maybe he wouldn’t be bugging us so much if we weren’t making so many dead people, if you know what I mean!”

Every pair of eyes fixes on Demeter.

The tension in the hall makes the air feel heavy like cloth drenched in ice water.

It was only a matter of time before Aunt Demeter’s eternal winter got brought up. It’s on everyone’s minds. And Dionysus has been one of Olympus’s loudest complainers about the interminable freeze, his grape crops yielding less and less each year (and yet his sobriety never increasing, Artemis can’t help but notice).

Glowering, Ares cuts through with his deep voice. “Many souls indeed have we sent to the Underworld in recent times. Souls which have not been killed by the honorable bloodshed of war.”

Angry voices spread through the assembly, from minor gods suddenly emboldened by these insinuations.

Although Artemis is not a fan of the eternal winter, stirring up that old conflict would be like telling the Third Sister of Fate not to cut the thread of life. It will take much more than a bit of complaining to convince Aunt Demeter to release the world from the frigid grip of her mourning. This is neither the time nor the place for it.

“Dionysus and Ares, my dear brothers,” Athena says, “we have strayed from the purpose of this assembly. But perhaps while our attentions are thus directed, we should hear Demeter’s valued assessment of the situation.”

The entire hall falls silent.

“I have my own concerns,” Aunt Demeter says icily, “and I assume so do the rest of you. It is touching that, despite your busy lives, so many of you seize the chance to help the son of Hades willingly sever the ties of godly blood. Yet no one lifts a finger for those who have suffered their dearest familial bonds being torn apart. Well, I will not pledge my support to yet another violent, petty conflict when there are more important things to worry about.”

Despite Aunt Demeter’s unpopularity, many of the gods seem to agree with her, especially the lesser deities.

Artemis can’t believe it. She isn’t surprised by Demeter’s reaction, but supposedly everyone else has bigger problems to deal with than possibly the biggest upheaval to happen in eons?

“It is up to each of us to determine which endeavors are most important,” Athena says, turning away from Demeter to address everyone. “Too often are those judgments blinded by absorption in our own affairs. This is why I have called upon all of you, to make you aware of the choice you have. We each have a duty to Zagreus. Each of us may ignore that duty as we see fit. But we cannot deny it.”

Hushed discussion spreads through the hall.

“I urge you to consider the situation very carefully before we make the final pledges,” Athena continues. “Before then, does anyone else have another point to argue?”

“I do.” Artemis stands, ignoring the amused looks from her relatives.

“Ho ho, our careless young huntress finally deigns to speak to us!” Uncle Poseidon laughs.

“An introduction will not be necessary,” Athena scolds him. She gestures to Artemis. “Speak.”

Artemis would appreciate Athena defending her if it weren’t so plainly written on her face that she shares the same opinion as Uncle Poseidon. But it’s better that way. Life would be endlessly tedious if her family expected more from her than the occasional cold civilities.

To be honest, she would have never anticipated she would be addressing the entire assembly, either. But she promised to help Zagreus, so she must do all she can.

She begins her speech. “We have heard many reasons today to support my cousin Zagreus. Athena has called upon family ties. My father has called upon our shared opposition to Hades. I’d like to call upon the tradition of rebellion. My father’s generation rebelled against the Titans, the Titans before them rebelled against Kronos, and now Zagreus rebels against the very nature of the Underworld. Don't you want to have a hand in such an event? Just…consider it.”

A nod from Athena, which is like high praise coming from her. Artemis feels the warmth of satisfaction.

“I have something to add,” comes Aphrodite’s honey-sweet voice. “It is a very simple argument, my loves, but a powerful one, and one you will find I am most qualified to give. Zagreus is of a most agreeable character, without malice or guile. He is so very kind and charming. Were you to meet Zagreus, you would quite adore him, and you would wish for him to join us on Olympus. If you aspire to say you have properly made your decision, you must meet him first. You may find it to be a very persuasive experience.”

She looks directly at Artemis with a smug smile before floating back down to recline on her seat.

What was with that smirk? Are they competing in oratory skills now?

Well, it’s not much of a competition, given that all Aphrodite said is that Zagreus is likable! How will that convince anyone?

But the longer she thinks about it, the harder it is to deny that she can’t divorce her pragmatic reasons for helping Zagreus from an equally powerful underlying motivation: she likes him. All of her initial reasons for getting involved have become much more compelling now that she truly cares for Zagreus.

And somehow, when Aphrodite declares something so subjective, it sounds like fact.

But Aphrodite’s point is not one that will win a debate. It might pique a few gods’ interest, but that’s all.

The final pledges begin, a suffocatingly long process given that every god feels the need to preface their decision with a lengthy monologue of opinions.

In the end, only Artemis, Athena, Dionysus, Ares, Aphrodite, Zeus, and Poseidon pledge their support for Zagreus. A powerful list of gods, but not a long list. Hopefully their help is enough for Zagreus to make it.

As soon as the ceremony is over, Artemis heads for her chariot, dreading the post-banquet mingling, but Apollo stops her.

“Nice speech, Sister. I didn’t know family history mattered to you so much. I’m touched.”

“Don’t mock me unless you want to be touched by an arrow lodged in your neck.”

Although she has never been one for family history, Artemis’s encounter with the Stygian Blade has given her a begrudging new reverence for the ancient battles her relatives fought with it. So, if she must call on family history to rally support for Zagreus, she will.

“It was a good speech.” Aphrodite says warmly, appearing out of nowhere. “The pattern of history has its own romance to it, doesn’t it? I am sorry neither of us were able to convince you, Apollo.”

Apollo gives one of his infuriating grins. “I’ll acquaint myself with Zagreus on my own time.”

He heads off—probably to go flirt with the Muses or do something else altogether useless—leaving her alone with Aphrodite, who looks very pleased with herself.

Artemis is not sure what to make of Aphrodite’s praise of her speech.

Not that she needs to care what Aphrodite thinks.

Before she gives the sly goddess the opportunity to truly catch her alone and pester her, she slips out, relief washing over her at the sight of her chariot. But Aphrodite follows her outside and grasps her wrist, trapping her from escaping. It reminds her of those severed hands that chase after Zagreus in Tartarus. Albeit with a tad more charm.

“Why, Olympus’s little hermit, you must be getting on well with Zagreus to speak up for him so eloquently, hm?”

Artemis readies her deer and takes the reins, ready to fly off at an instant’s notice. “And I’m not getting on well with you, so I’m not speaking to you at all.”

Aphrodite ignores the jab. “Dearest, would you spoil me a bit, and tell me what you think of our little godling? I do adore learning about new connections, especially ones filled with such warmth! The love between friends is a beautiful thing.”

Artemis has no idea how to respond to that. “Every day it’s some new and unpleasant kind of strangeness with you.”

“I like to keep things interesting.” She winks.

Artemis tries to ignore how that makes her stomach flip. Any moment now would be a great time to leave, and yet, inexplicably, she stays.

“Why do you need me to tell you what I think of Zagreus?” she asks. “Don’t you know all the juicy details of every ‘connection’ anyway?”

The question seems to make Aphrodite pause. “Well, it’s always more enjoyable to hear from the source, is it not?”

“If you’re dying to know, go ask Zagreus instead. After all, you’ve pledged to help him because he’s so agreeable.”

“Don’t be jealous, dearest. Fortunately I also happen to be fond of those who are not so well-behaved.”

Rolling her eyes, Artemis signals sharply with the reins, sending her chariot speeding away from Aphrodite’s obnoxious prying and other...behaviors.

But unfortunately, if they are both helping Zagreus, Artemis might be seeing a lot more of the goddess of love than she would like from now on.

Chapter Text

Artemis and her retinue are sitting around the fire, enjoying the moonlit glow of night in the forest. The creatures in the trees and underbrush call to each other and scurry around, their sounds amplified like a beautiful song to attuned hunters such as Artemis.

Artemis enjoys her solitude, but there is something special about these evenings around the fire. Usually she and her companions discuss hunting strategy, or ways to address the prayers (and petty quarrels) of mortals, or observations about the animal populations and how to best be stewards of the forest.

But lately the favorite topic of all the nymphs and huntresses—and indeed Artemis as well—has been her adventures with Zagreus. If you could call them adventures, given that Artemis doesn’t leave her forests to embark on them. But given the excitement of them, they must still count.

“Tell us again about the dead beings that use alchemy to create explosions,” Callisto says. “It’s still so fascinating.”

The nymphs and huntresses lean forward eagerly to listen as Artemis describes the experience once more.

She enjoys telling her nymphs about each battle almost as much as she enjoys helping Zagreus. Her spirits are the highest they’ve been since she tricked the twin giants Otus and Ephialtes into shooting each other before they could attack Mount Olympus.

“And tell us again about the—” one of the nymphs begins, but she is cut off by a familiar voice.

“My, what a beautiful part of the forest!”

Aphrodite appears in the middle of their circle, floating next to the fire. With delighted satisfaction, she slowly looks around, as if ensuring she makes eye contact with every nymph, causing them one by one to blush and either look away shyly or stare at her in awe.

“Artemis, I had forgotten how stunning your entourage is!”

“What—?” Artemis stammers. “Why are you—?”

“Don’t worry, I come in peace. I must say, more nymphs should live in the forest among the animals as you do. Clearly it brings out an unparalleled beauty.”

Aphrodite has not come in peace, seeing as how she’s let her powers of seduction out in full force. A faint pink glow surrounds Aphrodite, mingling with the cool moonlight and the warm firelight, hugging the curves of her body and shining in her long hair to create an image ethereal even for a goddess.

Under the effect of her powers, many of the nymphs’ faces have turned pink.

It’s unsettling to witness this reaction from her nymphs and huntresses, who have sworn chastity to join her retinue. This is a side of them she normally never sees.

“Leave my nymphs alone, Aphrodite. Turn your powers off.”

“Oh, fine. If it pleases you.” The glow around Aphrodite slowly fades. “I’ll hold back my splendor for now…since you must want me to save it just for you. Luckily for you, I’d be happy to oblige.”

Of course, Artemis is immune to Aphrodite’s powers, but that doesn’t stop the sharp prick of irritation at Aphrodite’s shameless teasing.

“Why are you here?” Artemis snaps. Her cheeks feel a bit warm. From exasperation, no doubt.

Artemis already knows the most likely answer—the goddess of love and lust is here to once again try coaxing her into blessing some undeserving mortal.

Aphrodite pouts. “Must you be so inhospitable? Can’t you see that your little huntresses wish to give me a proper welcome?” She cups the chin of the nearest nymph, whose eyes widen to an impossible size. “Don’t you, dearest?”

It takes all of Artemis’s discipline to keep herself from shooting an arrow through that delicate hand cupping her nymphs’ chin.

Instead, she hisses, “Come with me. Now.”

Aphrodite looks completely unfazed by her anger, in fact seems to relish in it, as she follows Artemis out of earshot of her nymphs.

“I knew you wanted me all to yourself,” she says smugly.

“Is this your strategy? Ambush me at random in hopes that I give you an audience? I’ve already told you, I am not blessing your mortal.”

A bright laugh escapes Aphrodite. “Oh, so you remembered that? I’m touched that I’ve been on your mind! But, no, that’s not why I’m here.”

Artemis tries to hide her surprise. “Well. Then...I’m also not answering whatever nonsense you asked me at the banquet about Zagreus.”

“Still not it, dearest.”

“Oh. Um. Then… Why?”

Aphrodite’s lips curl into a mischievous smile. “I have something you might be interested in.”

Artemis wishes that doesn’t make her as curious as it does.

She narrows her eyes. “Is that so?”

“Indeed, and I was rather excited about it when I arrived. But seeing as you don’t reciprocate my passion, well…perhaps I’ll keep it to myself now.”

The playfulness in Aphrodite’s voice is obvious, yet Artemis can’t prevent herself from falling for the trick. Her nerves spike, pushing her to speak impulsively.

“Will you just get on with it?”

A twinkle in Aphrodite’s eyes.

Artemis sighs. “I’d like to know. Please.”

Aphrodite places her hand on her heart. “Now I feel much more welcome.”

She reaches behind her back as if to retrieve something. Artemis has no idea how she carries anything on her person, given that she’s completely naked. Most gods at least have an infinite pocket. Where does she keep everything, in her hair?

Holding her hands behind her back, Aphrodite tilts her head for yet another teasing pause.

“You do realize overhunting is a crime in my forests,” Artemis says. “Including overhunting for attention.”

Aphrodite chirps out a laugh. It sounds different from her normal laughter, more unbridled and girlish. It feels like a strange accomplishment to cause the goddess to react like this.

“Here it is. Look what I caught today.”

Aphrodite opens her hand. A bright violet light gleams from her palm, emanating an overpowering aura of lethal precision. An aura that could only belong to—

“Hera?!” Artemis leaps back, bow drawn before she can even think. “You brought me Hera?!”

“My goodness, no! I avoid that vengeful woman as much as you do. Look closer.”

Artemis sighs with relief. As one of Father’s many out-of-wedlock offspring, she has never been anywhere close to half-decent terms with the queen of the gods. She still shudders at the time Hera beat her over the head with her own bow for daring to challenge her.

Her owls flap around her in agitation at the deadly aura. With soft noises, she calms them down and approaches Aphrodite once more, examining the bright light. Her bow hums faintly, and she realizes that its resonance is similar to the light in Aphrodite’s hand, as if they are…siblings.

“Coronacht,” Artemis says in awe. “An imprint of Hera’s Heart-Seeking Bow? That’s incredible! But it disappeared long ago—how…how did you…”

“Our little godling down in Hades, of course. I’m sure you know he’s been wielding the Stygian Blade. Somehow, he has acquired Coronacht as well. When I fused its powers with mine during battle, I was able to collect an imprint of its power to show you.”

If Artemis already enjoyed helping Zagreus, she will enjoy it even more now that he wields, in her (correct) opinion, the most legendary of the Infernal Arms. And certainly the most legendary bow in the world. No other bow has slayed Titans.

But to learn this from Aphrodite, of all gods…

Jealousy creeps through Artemis’s veins, sour and thick. Why wasn’t she the first to witness Zagreus wielding Coronacht? Why didn’t she get to imbue it with her power?

She knows she should be glad that Aphrodite is helping Zagreus. Given how few of the gods ended up pledging to aid him—and how easily the Fury Megaera in Tartarus has been defeating him—he needs all the help he can get.

She should be grateful for this kindness from Aphrodite. Somehow Aphrodite knew that Artemis would not want to wait to hear news of Coronacht’s reappearance. It’s strangely…touching.

And suspicious.

Is it truly an act of kindness? There is a reason Artemis trusts no one but her retinue.

Aphrodite would not be kind to her without a reason…

Perhaps Aphrodite brought this imprint to gloat, or to make some strange joke, or to manipulate her. Maybe to convince her to bless the mortal prince, meaning she did come here for the reason Artemis suspected.

“Why did you show me this?” she asks.

Aphrodite shrugs. “Out of anyone, you’d appreciate it the most.”

“That’s…too simple.”

“The simplest reason is often the most genuine.”

Artemis scoffs.

“Fine, there’s a practical reason, too. Our little godling seems to rather favor this weapon right now. I’m sure next time you encounter him, he will be wielding it. Until then, you can use the imprint of its power to strategize ways to augment the weapon when the time comes.”

“Now you sound genuine.”

“If you say so.”

Aphrodite transfers Coronacht’s power to Artemis’s quiver. As it enters, the violet light in Aphrodite’s hand dissipates, leaving only the smooth skin of her palm for Artemis to stare at.

Although Artemis should remain guarded, her jealousy and suspicion are fading, replaced by awe of the legendary weapon. She can already think of ways to enhance it with her powers.

“Well…thank you.” Artemis says. “It really is an amazing weapon. When Zagreus makes it to the surface, he’ll have to bring Coronacht with him. I want to try it out myself.”

At the expression of gratitude, something in Aphrodite’s demeanor relaxes. She hadn’t realized Aphrodite wasn’t fully relaxed to begin with.

“I’m sure he would," Aphrodite says.

“So.” Artemis digs her boot into the snow, suddenly feeling awkward. “You’re quite committed to helping Zagreus.”

“I find it quite rewarding. The little godling is very charming.”

“Back to his personality again—that’s why you find it rewarding? Don’t you care about seeking justice, or challenging Hades, or helping Zagreus escape his imprisonment and take his rightful place on Olympus?”

“Of course I do!” Aphrodite tilts her head like a contented cat. “Looks like the two of us finally have that common cause we’ve been searching for.”

“You mean you’ve been searching for. I prefer to act solo.”

“Sure, dearest. That’s why you keep the company of so many beautiful nymphs and huntresses.”

“They’re different—”

“They certainly are! So many elegant creatures in one forest. I would love to get to know them better, and experience the hospitality you made them withhold from me, hm?

Suddenly Artemis is reminded why she doesn’t spend time with Aphrodite. “They are all celibate.”

“Hm. A shame.” Aphrodite floats higher. “Well, it was a pleasure seeing you, dearest. I suppose I’ll be off, then! There are many hearts out there that miss me.”

Artemis rolls her eyes at that last comment.

But she can’t help but notice that Aphrodite hasn’t asked about the thing that has been on her mind for a while, which is starting to get annoying. If there’s a time to put her questions to rest, it’s now.

“Hold on. So, uh…only out of curiosity…who is this mortal whose hunt you wanted me to bless?”

Chapter Text

Aphrodite’s lips curve into a self-satisfied smile. She slowly floats back down to the snow-covered ground.

“Dearest, I hope you aren’t offending my generosity by thinking that I expect something in return for an act of kindness,” she says.

This comment only makes Artemis think that’s exactly what just happened.

Although she bridles at the possibility that she has just been wooed and tricked into negotiations, she feels less bothered by it than she should be.

“I hope you don’t think I will agree to your terms,” Artemis says. “But…I’ll at least hear the terms.”

“At last, I hear such enticing words from you!” Aphrodite laces her fingers together in front of her chest, leaning forward slightly. “Now that I have your audience, I would like to ask you to bless the prince of Cythera. It is a small island, and his is a small kingdom, but if he wins glory in this upcoming hunt, he will be destined for greatness.”

Artemis scoffs. “Mortal men and their hunger for greatness. It’s the same story every time. I grant them my powers, they achieve glory through my favor, and suddenly in their greatness they think they can challenge me. Your prince won’t be any different. I’ll eventually strike him down like all the others, and then you’ll regret seeking my blessing.”

Aphrodite shakes her head, resting her hand on Artemis’s shoulder. “Such a harsh view of the world.”

“I’d call it a ‘realistic’ view.” She shakes off Aphrodite’s touch.

“If you saw these men as I do, you would recognize their loving souls, their fiery warmth, their passion for life!”

“I prefer them to possess something like, oh, I don’t know, common sense.”

Amused, Aphrodite crosses her arms. “Do you believe that passion precludes sensibility?”

“Look, all I’m saying is that your favored mortals are rarely good news for me.”

“Remember what I told you last time we spoke about this…” She looks at Artemis expectantly.

Artemis sighs, irritated that Aphrodite is making her play along and fill in the blanks. “You said that you’d do a favor for me in return.”

“Indeed I would! I’m so glad you’re finally interested in what I can do for you.”

“That depends on what it is.”

“I’m the goddess of love. What kind of favors do you think I do?”

Aphrodite’s hair slowly slides away from her body, relieving the curve of a thigh, the underside of a breast, the dip of a hip bone. A scent of rose emanates from her, sweet and comforting.

Artemis’s jaw tightens. “Clearly you don’t know what kind of favors appeal to me.”

Her hands suddenly restless, she adjusts her leather vambraces, just to have something to do with the energy in her fingers.

Aphrodite’s hair gently falls back into place. “I’m just teasing, dearest. You know I like to see you flustered.”

“I’m not—”

“Although, if I’ve piqued your interest…”

“Just—ugh! Just tell me what it is.”

Aphrodite giggles, a bright chiming sound that is uncomfortably pleasant. “Of course, of course. I intend to appeal to your one true love: the hunt."

Artemis rolls her eyes at that.

The goddess continues, "The Kingdom of Patrae has been overhunting in your forests, have they not? And your threats and interference have not yet been successful in warding them off.”

Artemis nods warily. One of her owls hoots, as if she’s also weighing in to confirm, earning a stern glance from Artemis. Next time she needs to tell her owls not to converse with this trickster goddess.

“I know what you’re thinking,” Aphrodite says. “What could I know about hunting?”

“Did my huntsman Hippolytus never teach you about it?” Artemis says as sarcastically as possible. "Oh, right, he wasn't really interested in talking to you."

Hippolytus, one of her favorite huntsmen, rejected Aphrodite’s advances out of loyalty to his worship of Artemis. And a rejection of Aphrodite is a historical event in itself. Which, naturally, led Aphrodite to ruin his life and cause his death.

Aphrodite purses her lips. “You’re never going to let that go, will you?”

“Absolutely not.”

“Well, I will never forget that you were involved in my beloved Adonis’s death, but I won’t bring that up since I am trying to cultivate a relationship here.”

Artemis shrugs. “My bad. So, in conclusion, you don’t know anything about hunting.”

“In fact I do know why the Patraeans are overhunting. It’s been winter for generations, and the people are cold and irritable and unsatisfied. Seeing the devastation caused by the war in the nearby kingdoms, the Patraeans don’t want a war, not yet. But without war, the people can’t find glory through battle. So they either start petty skirmishes or, in this case, they take to the forests to hunt for glory. It is true, isn’t it?”

“...I suppose that’s not a terrible assessment.”

“So what if the Patraeans were a bit happier at home? If their bloodlust and search for glory was replaced by passion and creativity and comfort…wouldn’t they hunger less for the hunt?”

“So…you’re offering to pacify the Patraeans.”

“Quite right, dearest.”

This idea…might actually work.

She finds herself impressed by this proposition. She knows that as a result of her taste for gossip and constant mingling with the mortals, Aphrodite has an astute awareness of mortal affairs, but she still forgets that the goddess’s skill for scheming applies to more than just matchmaking and revenge plans. Aphrodite is more her equal in strategy than she would like to admit, especially since she comes up with ideas that Artemis would never be able to execute.

But what Aphrodite is proposing would not just be a one-time exchange.

Although she has only asked Artemis to bless one prince’s hunt, surely she will expect Artemis to bless the next hunt, and the next hunt, and every hunt after that, in exchange for the continued pacification of the Patraeans.

To agree would be to form an alliance.

And Artemis does not form alliances.

The only gods she faithfully stands by are Apollo (when he’s in her good graces) and recently, Zagreus.

Artemis either freely helps and freely takes, or keeps to her own. And more often than not, she keeps to her own.

“Your plan may work.” Artemis lifts her chin. “But I can handle this myself. Why should I rely on you?”

The smug smile on Aphrodite’s face shows that not only is she prepared for this question, she is delighted to answer it. How much thought did Aphrodite put into this? And why does that make her feel almost…flattered?

“You’ve attempted to address this issue through threats and thwarting their hunts. Not only does this require constant effort from you and your nymphs, you must know that in the end, the Patraeans’ frustration will drive them to try even harder to hunt. And worse, if this goes on for long enough, the Patraeans will no longer pray to you for luck in the hunt. Instead, they will seek help from another god. Then you won’t just have mortals to deal with—you will also be vying with a power who is much more your equal, and very eager to step on your toes.”

The idea of losing the worship of the Patraeans to competition from another god has been in the back of Artemis’s mind for a while, worrying her, and the thought is even more concerning after hearing Aphrodite lay it out for her so plainly.

“I could just kill them,” she says, despite knowing that this isn’t a solution. Just to provoke Aphrodite.

“Oh my…well, my little huntress. I won’t insult your intelligence by spelling out the effects of that, hm?”

No matter how Artemis turns the situation over in her mind, she can’t spin it in a way that makes Aphrodite’s offer less appealing. With her help…things would be a lot easier. Finally ending the Patraean’s overhunting would lift a great burden from her and her retinue.

That is, if Aphrodite can pull it off.

“How can I be sure that you’ll be successful?” Artemis counters. “What if the Patraeans become even more confident in the hunt?”

Aphrodite gives a soft smile. “I’ve been doing this for eons, dearest. You can trust me. I will make them content.”

“I wouldn’t exactly call you the goddess of contentment.”

“Oh?” Aphrodite puts a hand on her hip, looking intrigued. “And why ever not?”

“Because you make people act feral! You’re more like the goddess of agitation.”

“Goddess of agitation…” Aphrodite repeats in wonder, as if reciting the most beautiful melody she’s ever heard. “That’s quite original, my little huntress! I would love to know what feelings inside you have driven you to such unique conclusion. I mean, precisely, the effect I’ve had on you?”

Artemis can’t believe what she’s hearing. “It’s—it’s an observation!”

“Come now—”

“Anyway!” She refuses to let Aphrodite sidetrack her. “Sure, you’ll do me a favor. But you want me to bless your prince in exchange. What would I get out of helping him?”

“Isn’t it obvious? You will receive the love of his people! Their prayers and offerings and songs will make you stronger.”

“I don’t care about the opinions of mortals.”

“So when you’ve struck down every mortal that challenged you, you did that because you didn’t care, hm?”

“...Whatever.”

“Well, luckily for you, darling, I’m in no rush for your answer. I know you in particular need time to process these things.”

Artemis rolls her eyes.

Aphrodite’s voice lowers, turning serious. “But keep in mind that you’re not the only one who can bless the prince of Cythera.”

With the back of her hand, she gently pets one of Artemis’s owls, who happily leans in to the soft touch like a little feathered traitor.

“Take care that you don’t let another god steal your opportunity. I’m in high demand, after all.”

With a pink flash, Aphrodite disappears.

The forest falls silent and empty, the only sound a single plaintive hoot from her owl.

Chapter Text

The annoying part about Aphrodite’s offer is that even if Artemis rejects the alliance, she will still have something to thank the goddess of love for: making Artemis accept that the Patreaens’ overhunting is a more critical issue than she'd been treating it.

She has doubled her efforts to thwart their hunts, hoping to prove that she and her retinue can solve this problem alone. Her nymphs play countless tricks, disabling the hunters’ traps, shifting their arrows to miss by a hair's breadth, and tripping them with rocks and tree roots. Callisto has also leveraged her classic strategy of transforming into a bear and harrassing mortals a few more times.

Unfortunately, it hasn’t made a difference. In fact, the Patreaens have started venturing deeper into the forest and taking on riskier game.

As Artemis predicted, their drive to hunt has only increased.

Aphrodite’s offer is looking better by the day.

But the goddess hasn’t come by again to pester Artemis. Instead, she seems to be waiting, expecting Artemis to come to her and admit that she needs her help.

Such an ego…

Still, perhaps it’s time for Artemis to swallow her own pride and form the alliance.

She is about to call her nymphs together for a meeting on the subject when she senses a voice calling her from far away, trickling up from the earth like the final, smallest tributary of a river.

Zagreus.

She supposes the meeting can wait.

Excitement rushes through her as she sends her powers down to the Underworld.

Lately, fighting alongside Zagreus has been especially captivating because he has finally become strong enough to defeat the Fury Megaera. Not every time, but sometimes. On those occasions, when he makes it to Asphodel, there is a whole suite of new enemies with unique, stronger abilities, giving Artemis the opportunity to flex her strategic muscles in devising how to defeat them.

And to Artemis’s delight, Zagreus seems to favor Coronacht over his other weapons. His taste isn’t bad.

Thanks to the essence of the legendary bow that Aphrodite brought her, Artemis has devised a host of methods to enhance Coronacht and extract the unique powers hidden under its raw strength, like cracking open a pomegranate to reveal its sweet fruit.

“Your skill with the Heart-Seeking Bow is increasing,” she tells Zagreus after a particularly swift victory against the Fury. “Take good care of the weapon. I’m hoping to try it out myself once you reach the surface.”

“I will do just that, Lady Artemis,” Zagreus replies. “A bow like this couldn’t be better suited for the goddess of the hunt.”

“It suits you well, too. You’ve become much stronger.”

“I have only you and the other gods to thank for that. And some dear friends back in Hades.”

A sweet aroma swirls around Artemis as a shimmering bottle of golden liquid materializes in her hands.

“Because of that, I’d like to gift you this nectar,“ Zagreus says. “Just something to show my gratitude.”

“I don’t know how you find so many bottles of this stuff down there.”

“There’s a robust trade in them. Even Charon himself is involved. (Should I be telling you that?) But…well…you should know, I also give a lot of the bottles I find to you.”

Is Artemis blushing? There’s no way. It must be the sun shining on her face, warming her cheeks, even in this endless winter…

“I…uh…you know what,” she says. “I have something for you, too.”

She fetches an object from her quiver and sends it down to Zagreus.

“The Adament Arrowhead. If you use it, I’ll hear you as soon as you call for my help. You won’t have to wait for me to already be paying attention.”

“Thank you, Lady Artemis.”

“You know, at the rate you’re progressing, I think it won’t be long until you can defeat the Fury Megaera consistently,” Artemis says, brimming with pride in her little cousin.

“...Yeah. I suppose so.” He doesn’t sound happy about it.

“Is that not exciting?”

“It is—it’s just, I’ve been trying to patch things up with Meg. I’ve made some mistakes in the past, and now on top of that, she isn’t exactly thrilled that I’m trying to break out of here. I can’t imagine that sending her down the River Styx on a regular basis will help smooth out our relationship troubles.”

“Oh. Well. I can see how that would create a predicament.”

“It’s alright. We're just not on the same page—never really seem to be, anymore. But I do hope that she'll come around eventually. Anyway, enough talk—let’s turn some Shades to dust!”

This glimpse of Zagreus’s relationships intrigues Artemis. For all the battles they’ve fought together, she doesn’t actually know much about his personal life. But Zagreus seems willing to share some of it with her.

Maybe they are on the path to becoming true friends.

Artemis would like that.

If Zagreus makes it to the surface, and of course properly devotes himself to archery and chastity, she would gladly take him as hunting companion. Maybe she’d even loosen her rules to make an exception for him. Maybe.

She channels her energy down through the earth, ready to find Zagrues in the next region of Asphodel.

But Zagreus is not the only presence she senses.

The scent of rose petals—

“What a delight to see you here, darling!” comes Aphrodite’s voice, as if reflected from the Underworld. “Who would have thought we’d meet in Asphodel, hm? We must be fated to cross paths.”

Artemis scoffs. “Asphodel isn’t much different than our normal meeting places. Anywhere I’m stuck around you turns into a land of eternal punishment.”

Aphrodite gives her characteristic chime-bell laugh. Why does it have to sound so nice? “If that’s true, it must mean your heart burns with the heat of the River Phlegethon when we meet, hm?”

“No, but my temper does. Enough wasting time. Zagreus, can we send her back to the surface?”

A few silent moments pass. Artemis suddenly feels nervous.

“About that…” Zagreus says. “Sorry, Lady Artemis. But I’m going to have to change things up a bit.”

The unthinkable happens.

Zagreus chooses Aphrodite and her useless boons over Artemis and her precision, as if he cares nothing for their friendship!

And it just has to be her that he picks over Artemis!

Artemis’s voice has gone cold. “If that’s how it is…the goddess of love better make sure you’re good at dodging.”

She rains down countless arrows on him like a hailstorm, striking him at every turn. Aphrodite may be good at protecting Zagreus from Shades, but she can do nothing to protect him from Artemis and her deadly aim.

Just when Zagreus is clinging to the last thread of his power, worn down from Artemis’s arrows and about to be flattened by a Skull Crusher, he calls out, “Lady Artemis! Come to my aid and strike this enemy with your Seeking Arrows!”

Artemis is so shocked that she stops shooting at him.

“Are you…are you calling on my special technique? While I’m attacking you??”

Zagreus’s voice bubbles up frantically from the Underword. “I’m so sorry, Lady Artemis! It was out of habit! I’m just—I’m so used to having your Seeking Arrows for help—”

“Well, you should have thought of that before you chose Aphrodite over me! The goddess of love might protect your heart, but I’m going for your throat!”

Thanks to her overly-generous support of her foolish, undeserving little cousin, Artemis is well-practiced in landing a critical hit in a single blow.

Zagreus falls in an instant.

Chapter Text

“Was I too harsh on Zagreus?” Artemis asks absent-mindedly.

She is brushing the soft coat of one of her golden-antlered deer. The deer looks at her with large gentle eyes, enjoying the brushing and oblivious to her question.

“Thanks. Big help you are.”

She feeds the deer a handful of blackberries, enjoying the light sensation of the deer carefully eating from the palm of her hand. Juice from the berries leaks onto her palm, staining her skin a pleasant shade of deep purple.

Artemis’s golden-antlered deer are one of her most prized animal companions, with the intelligence and endurance to guide her chariot everywhere she needs to go. Her nymphs could tend to them for her, but she’d much rather do it herself. In return for her deer’s loyalty, it’s the least she can do to brush them, feed them well, and make sure they have all the forest they need to roam.

As she brushes the deer, the smallest of her owls claws at her foot, jealous for attention. In response, the deer holds his head high, smugly delighting in his pampering.

She laughs. “You two are so spoiled.”

The sound of footsteps approaching, crunching in the snow. She turns her head to see the cloud nymph Hyale looking incredibly guilty.

“Lady Artemis, this lowly one has failed,” Hyale says, bowing. “One of our sacred boars wandered off and now I can’t find her. I sent my hounds to track her, but it seems she has recently offended them (she’s the one who likes to kick), because the hounds refuse to look for her. Or at least they aren’t trying very hard.”

Artemis sighs. She loves the forest animals, but they cause an Olympian scale of drama sometimes.

“I told you that you should spend more time training those hounds,” Artemis says.

“I understand, Lady Artemis, I’m terribly sorry—”

“It’s alright. This stag here knows how to find our boar.” She pats the flanks of her deer. “Go on, you heard her.”

The deer stares at her, hoping to get out of his responsibilities and enjoy more brushing instead, but Artemis holds his gaze and cocks an eyebrow. He takes the hint, bounding away through the snow.

“Thank you so much, Lady Artemis, I promise I won’t cause trouble again—”

Artemis moves on to brush the next of her golden-antlered deer, waving a hand over her shoulder at the nymph. “Just go train your hounds, Hyale.”

“Yes, of course, I’ll do just that!” Hyale runs off.

As a cloud nymph, Hyale would be better off tending to the birds and protecting the skies, but for some reason she prefers to care for animals without the skill of flight. A few slip ups like this happen as a result, but Artemis is patient with her.

It is still early in the morning, the birds trilling their daybreak songs. The peaceful birdsong and the methodical motion of brushing her deer carries Artemis back into her thoughts, her mind like a calm pool of water. Until Zagreus’s reflection appears on its surface as she remembers once again how she struck him down.

Ugh…

Perhaps Artemis had overreacted when Zagreus snubbed her. Although, he would have met defeat in Asphodel regardless. It’s not like she prevented him from reaching the surface.

Still…Artemis didn’t have to be the one to send him back to the House of Hades.

But wrath is a useful tool. Like an axe, it’s not a tool that can be used for many purposes. But sometimes a tree just needs to be chopped down. Mortals need to be reminded of the gods’ power now and then, and apparently, as a fledgling god, Zagreus could also use this reminder. He’ll think twice about crossing Artemis a second time.

After she finishes tending to her deer, she heads back to her retinue’s main camp, where they have planned a meeting to discuss the alliance with Aphrodite.

It is time to finally accept the wretched goddess’s offer. Who knows, maybe Artemis will actually enjoy working with her. She doubts it, though.

On her way to the camp, Callisto and several other nymphs rush over to her.

“Lady Artemis!” Callisto grabs her arm, nails digging into Artemis’s skin. Her eyes are wet, and wide with panic.

Dread shoots down Artemis’s spine like one of her father’s thunderbolts.

“What’s wrong?”

“One of our golden-antlered deer—the Patreaens have slain it!”

Artemis’s ichor turns to ice, breath stolen from her lungs.

“No,” she whispers. “That’s—that’s impossible. Our sacred animals can’t be slain by mortals.”

Callisto bites back tears. “Somehow, they’ve done it.”

Rage fills Artemis’s body, slicing through every nerve, a blade that hungers for mortal blood. “Then they will hunt no more!”

The wrath she unleashes on the party of hunters responsible for the death of her sacred deer makes her attack on Zagreus look like a sunshower. She restrains herself enough to leave one alive long enough to question him. “You disgraceful savage, where did you learn to kill my sacred animals?!”

The man is so frightened that his words are more breath than voice. “The—the—song—”

“What song?”

“I beg you, please, spare my life—I will offer you all I own and serve in your temple for the rest of my days—”

“What song?”

“The ballad…the ballad of love about the hunter who slayed golden-antlered deer…”

Artemis struggles to still herself, to quench her anger long enough to listen to the mortal’s explanation.

He tells of how the hunter in the song saved his beloved, who was being guarded by a golden-antlered stag. To slay the divine deer, he used a blade rubbed with a poisonous ivy that only divine followers of Dionysus can gather. The group of Patreaen hunters decided to follow the strategy detailed in the song. Because the Patreaens couldn’t pick the ivy themselves, they tricked one of Dionysus’s nymphs and stole the ivy she had collected, using it to poison their weapons.

Artemis’s hands shake with disbelieving fury.

But she is not a monster. In exchange for the information, she gives the man a merciful end compared to the rest of his hunting party. She casts a spell, transforming him into a beetle, leaving him at the mercy of the animals of the forest.

As she turns away, the man’s words echo in her mind.

A ballad of love…

The feeling of betrayal presses in on her, crushing her like a boulder.

Aphrodite…

Aphrodite is responsible for this?!

Artemis restructures her chariot so it can be drawn by only three golden-antlered deer, not four—a process which breaks her heart all over again—and charges straight for Aphrodite’s palace.

It’s still morning when Artemis arrives, Helios’s chariot low in the sky, casting soft rays on the marble palace. She hopes Helios averts his gaze for what she’s about to do to Aphrodite.

She storms through the halls, startling half-asleep nymphs and spooking Aphrodite’s collection of doves in the central courtyard, sending them flapping and cooing with alarm. Soon the more alert of Aphrodite’s attendants are chasing after her, urging her to stop.

Outpacing the nymphs at her heels, she barges into Aphrodite’s inner chambers, where the goddess is asleep beside a man she doesn’t recognize, probably whichever demigod Aphrodite is smitten by this week. Imagine that, sleeping peacefully with a lover when she has committed an unforgivable betrayal against Artemis.

Artemis nocks six arrows in her bow at once and launches them toward the side of the room opposite Aphrodite’s bed, one arrow shattering each of Aphrodite’s prized painted vases.

“Oh my!” Aphrodite cries, sitting up in her bed. She looks around in confusion, her gaze finally landing on Artemis, brow furrowed and lips parted as she seems to struggle to comprehend the situation. She slowly floats upwards, lifted by her usual uncontrollable buoyancy.

The nymphs surround Artemis, brandishing spears at her. The shirtless man in Aphrodite’s bed clutches the blanket close to his chest, eyes wide.

Light shimmers around the shards of the broken vases. With a loud clinking sound, the sharp fragments levitate into the air and reassemble into the original vases, indestructible as most divine artworks are. Artemis wishes they would remain as shards and dust.

“You broke my vases?” Aphrodite says.

The goddess’s pink hair is puffy and disheveled. Then suddenly, she seems to awaken, and her hair smooths itself into its normal waves. She floats out of her bed to close in on Artemis.

“Little huntress,” Aphrodite says sternly, “what have I done to deserve such cruel treatment?”

“As if you don’t know.”

“Hmph! Let us be,” she addresses her attendants, waving them away. The nymphs back away from Artemis and lower their weapons.

Aphrodite narrows her eyes. “What is the meaning of this? Has that goddess of insanity Lyssa paid you a visit? Or perhaps Dionysus has struck you with a mad frenzy, hm?”

“Far from it. In fact, I finally have clarity.” Artemis tightens her grip on her bow at her side. “I’ve come to discuss the alliance you’ve been pressing me to agree to.”

“And this is how you’ve chosen to open the conversation?”

“It is when you stoop to underhanded tactics.”

With a huff, Aphrodite turns to the very confused man in her bed. “Let us speak in private, love.”

The room quickly empties, leaving the two goddesses alone. At first, Aphrodite had simply looked irritated for being rudely awakened, but now there is a darkness in her gaze and an edge in her voice.

“Dearest, I must not have heard you clearly in my drowsiness, because I thought I heard you accuse me of foul play just now. How silly that would be.”

“You’re still pretending not to know what I’m talking about?”

“Perhaps I will stop ‘pretending’ if you tell me what I’m accused of.”

At this, Artemis explodes. “The Patreaens killed one of my golden-antlered deer! Those creatures can’t be slain by mortals without a divine weapon. Where would mere mortals have gotten the ability, or the gall, to hunt my sacred deer, if there wasn’t a god spurring them on?”

“So you believe I am that god.” Aphrodite crosses her arms. “And what would you have my motive be?”

“To drive me to accept your alliance! To force my hand by bringing a disaster to my forests!”

Instead of replying, Aphrodite turns away and approaches the reassembled vases. She runs the back of her hand along the curve of a vase. “It pains me not only that you believe I was responsible for this, but also that I can’t properly tell you how sorry I am that you’ve lost your sacred deer.”

This somber, deflated response is not what Artemis expected.

Upon hearing Aphrodite’s condolence, her overflowing anger starts to subside, as if this is what she wanted to hear all along.

What if…Aphrodite isn’t responsible?

No…she is only playing tricks. Of course Aphrodite would try to manipulate her.

“Who else could it be?” Artemis snaps. Desperation barks inside her like a savage dog—desperation for someone to blame. Someone to punish. Someone to provide a reason for why Artemis lost her sacred deer.

Avoiding her gaze, Aphrodite slowly traces the outlines of artwork on the vase, a depiction of a man swimming toward an approaching storm. “You might have an idea if you had considered the possibilities before wildly accusing me.”

“Why would I need to consider other culprits? Guess where the Patreaens learned how to slay my deer. A ballad of love .”

“It may surprise you that not every love song originates from me. Many beings in the world have fallen in love and memorialized their story. Not that you would care for such things.”

Artemis scoffs.

Aphrodite finally looks her in the eyes, her expression devoid of its usual levity. “Let’s think this through. I’ll help you out, hm? Consider: Have you made any enemies recently? Offended anyone? Broken anyone’s heart? Besides mine this morning, that is.”

“Oh, stop with the theatrics.”

“Go on. Answer my question.”

“Fine.” With a sharp, stiff motion, Artemis returns her bow to rest across her back. “I’ve kept to myself as always, so nothing’s changed. Maybe I’ve made more of an enemy of Hades, but he only bothers to interfere with mortals if they’re dead. The only god with a motivation is you.”

Aphrodite shrugs. “Then maybe your culprit has no motivation. It could’ve been some reckless little nymph who doesn’t even care what you think.”

Somehow that’s worse—the idea that her beloved deer could have died for no reason.

“Suppose it was some nymph or minor god,” Artemis says. “You could have sent them.”

“It seems you are very hung up on this idea that I’m desperate for you to accept this alliance, so desperate that I need to force you into it.” Aphrodite slowly closes in on her. “What I have tried to get you to understand is that I don’t need you to bless the Prince of Cythera. Despite how you may like to delude yourself, you are not the sole authority on hunting.”

A sour taste fills Artemis’s mouth.

“Take Ares, hm?” Aphrodite continues. “He’s perfectly capable of ensuring the prince’s success in the hunt. In fact, Ares cherishes me so much that he wouldn’t even ask for a favor in return. I don’t need you, Artemis—I came to you because I wanted to.”

Aphrodite reaches a hand toward her, and despite her better judgment Artemis doesn’t move away, allowing Aphrodite to gently stroke her cheek.

“If only you had appreciated me for it,” Aphrodite says quietly.

Artemis backs away, breaking the sensation of Aphrodite’s soft touch on her cheek. She finds that she can’t keep as much bite in her voice as before. “This little performance isn’t enough to make me believe you.”

But it almost is.

How can Aphrodite sway her so easily? It’s as if she wishes that Aphrodite is telling the truth.

She does wish that it’s the truth.

But now that she has accused Aphrodite with such hostility and such certainty…she doesn’t know what to do if her accusation is actually wrong. She can only continue on this path that she has forged.

Artemis turns to leave, then pauses and says over her shoulder, “You know, I would have agreed to the alliance if you hadn’t done this.”

A long, heavy silence.

She is about to give up waiting for a response when Aphrodite’s voice comes, quiet and stiff.

“I was just thinking the same thing, little huntress.”

Artemis’s stomach sinks.

She watches as Aphrodite reclines back in her bed, a bitter smile playing on the goddess’s lips, revealing only as much spite and anger as she wants Artemis to see. Aphrodite is always like this—always putting up a veil, always playing at something, always confusing her.

She can't stand to witness it any longer.

Artemis strides away without looking back.

Chapter Text

As dark night blankets her forests, Artemis says a final farewell to her loyal deer.

Her nymphs skin the slain deer and collect its golden antlers, the sacred creature’s last gifts to them. They lay him on a funeral pyre along with his favorite foods—blackberries and beechnuts—and the reins he once wore. Artemis lights the kindling of the pyre and steps back, watching her deer find his final rest, transmuted into a glowing ball of light.

Artemis has dedicated this night as a vigil to honor the golden-antlered deer. Many of her nymphs accompany her in silence, observing the vigil.

Once the pyre’s flames have reached their greatest intensity, Hyale finds her way through the assembly of nymphs to approach Artemis.

“I’m so sorry, Lady Artemis,” Hyale says. “I can’t help but feel that this is my fault. If I hadn’t let the boar go missing and caused you to send the deer after her…” She hangs her head. “If you see it fit to banish me, I would not question it.”

Artemis gives Hyale’s shoulder a stiff, awkward pat. “It’s not your fault. Of course I’m not going to banish you.” She turns back to the pyre, clenching her fists. “We’ll find whoever is truly responsible for this.”

She has sent her two most trusted nymphs, Callisto and Iphigenia, to root out the miscreant behind her deer’s death, investigating exactly where the Patreaens learned how to slay her sacred animals.

If Callisto and Iphigenia hadn’t already left, she would consider sending Hyale with them. Maybe the quest would’ve assuaged some of Hyale’s undue guilt.

Speaking of guilt, if Callisto and Iphigenia return to report that Aphrodite truly isn’t behind this…Artemis will have her own guilt to deal with.

Guilt, and regret.

Especially since she really could use Aphrodite’s help, but now she might’ve ruined the opportunity. If their heated argument at Aphrodite’s palace is anything to go by, they’ve called off the alliance before it has even started.

But guilt and regret are not emotions that gods enjoy dealing with.

If they’ve called off the alliance—that’s fine. Artemis is better off without the meddling goddess of love anyway.

Just then, a call for help rumbles up from the Underworld.

It’s different from the usual faint noise of battle that Artemis hears from beneath the earth. Instead, it’s piercing like an arrow strike, causing her bow slung on her back to tremble in response.

Zagreus is using the Adamant Arrowhead to call her directly.

She scoffs. Some nerve her little cousin has after what he pulled last time, picking Aphrodite over her!

And what terrible timing, too, during the vigil for her slain deer. She doesn’t have time to deal with Zagreus’s plight right now.

Still, she can’t neglect his call. And she does feel a bit satisfied that Zagreus has sought her. She slips away from the vigil for just a few moments to settle things with him.

“Come crawling back already, have you?”

“I am deeply sorry for offending you last time, Lady Artemis,” Zagreus says. “I was forced to make a decision, and I did what I thought was best at the time. Since I first tried to break away from my father’s realm, I’ve…had to make a lot of difficult decisions. More than I expected, actually. And…I’ve hurt others in the process. Perhaps it was warranted for you to, well, kill me,” he says with a chuckle.

Despite the levity in his tone, a trace of genuine pain stains his voice, like a drop of blood turning water red. Zagreus has alluded to difficulties in his relationships in the Underworld before, particularly his challenges with the Fury Megaera. Artemis knows about the dangers of the Underworld that tax him physically, but she wonders what conflicts with the chthonic deities seem to be taxing him emotionally as well.

Artemis already finds herself softening towards him. “Agh…sorry about that. Just—let it be a lesson not to test me again, okay?” She sighs. “I think I understand a bit of what you’re going through. When I left my father to become a huntress in the woods, I hadn’t realized how difficult it would be to take care of things myself until, suddenly…I was alone.”

She remembers crafting her own weapons, mapping out the forests, figuring out how to deal with pesky minor gods, all on her own without assistance or guidance. During those days, she had wished to be back on the island where her mother had fled to give birth to her and Apollo. For a short time, it had been just them on that island, coexisting with the wilderness together. But the paths of gods like them were always meant to diverge, as each must preside over their own domain.

“That does sound very difficult,” Zagreus says. “But I’m sure you’re stronger for it—and I can attest firsthand to your strength.”

“Always the flattery with you.”

“But really, I can’t imagine doing something like this totally alone. I’m at least lucky to have support from you and others on Olympus, as well as some dear friends of mine back in the House. Nyx, Achilles, Dusa—” He stops abruptly. “Well, that’s about it, I guess. Still, I don’t know what I’d do without everyone who has helped me.”

Artemis wonders whose names Zagreus stopped himself from listing. Are they gods who hope to keep their identities secret, or are they former friends that Zagreus has grown apart from?

“Companionship makes all the differrence," Artemis says. "But, if I were you, I wouldn’t bother expecting much in the way of friendship from anyone else on Olympus.”

Zagreus laughs good-naturedly, as if he’s heard this before. Hopefully if he hears it enough, he'll listen.

“I actually don’t have much time to battle with you today,” Artemis tells him. “But I’ll lend you my powers for a short while.”

“I must admit I’ll feel your absence, but at least that means I won’t have to worry about you killing me this time.” She can hear the smirk in Zagreus’s voice.

“Look, you had it coming. And don’t get in the habit of exaggerating like the other Olympians. I didn’t kill you.”

Zagreus is quiet for a few moments. “Well. This is awkward. So…although I’m a god, I can still die. Literally, die. Float home down the Styx and all that. I’ve died every time I’ve tried to make it out of here, actually.”

“You—how is that possible?—”

“Don't worry, I always come back to life! Well, clearly.”

Artemis sinks into the realization as though she is an animal trapped in quicksand.

She’d killed Zagreus.

In her anger, she’d killed another god.

“I’m…I didn’t think you could actually die, Zagreus. I’d ask you what it’s like—dying, I mean—but now that I think about it, that’s probably a bad question, and I need to go anyway. Um. How about I just quickly kill a few Shades for you and head off?”

“Sounds good to me.”

After she severs her link with Zagreus, she is overcome by her own thoughtlessness, digging into her like a hunting knife. Her impulsive anger had driven her to truly kill someone she cared about.

As for other wounds she has rashly inflicted…

On Aphrodite …

Perhaps the consequences may be more severe than they were with someone as quick to forgiveness as Zagreus.

She returns to the vigil to watch over the funeral pyre, her head spinning with confusing emotions. She lets the steady brightness of the flames slowly consume her thoughts.

A disruption behind her catches her attention. She hears hushed noises of surprise from her nymphs and the crunching of snow under their feet as they part, creating a path for an unknown being to approach.

Artemis turns to see Demeter walking towards her, the moonlight shimmering off the icy silver wreaths in her hair and her heavy cloak trailing in the snow. Her lips, a bluish color as if she is forever frostbitten, are pulled into a thin line. But her eyes appear remarkably…friendly, by Demeter’s standards.

Artemis is surprised to see her aunt here. Like her, Demeter rarely seeks the company of other gods, not since losing her daughter.

“Aunt Demeter,” Artemis says. “What brings you here?”

Demeter’s gaze fixes on the funeral pyre, watching it carefully, then returns to Artemis. “I sensed your grief and anger. I thought I would come to console you.”

Artemis ducks her head respectfully. “Thank you, Aunt Demeter.”

“I do not neglect those who are loyal to me. Unlike your relatives, you have always followed my orders, and this does not go unseen.” Demeter sighs, gathering her cloak around herself. “Tell me, young Artemis, what sorrow has befallen you?”

As they watch the pyre’s flames lick the night sky, Artemis offers a brief explanation, finding her emotions too heavy for her to want to discuss the circumstances of her deer’s death in detail.

Demeter gives a soft hum in reply. She closes her eyes for a few moments.

“If you travel two hundred paces to the east, you will find a field of clover growing through the snow,” Demeter says. “This clover will never be trampled or depleted. The rest of your deer will miss their companion, but at least they may have this field to enjoy.”

Artemis knows every stretch of her forests, each tree and rock etched into her mind, and she has never seen this field of clover. Demeter must have willed it to appear, commanding it to grow at this very moment.

A wan smile finds Artemis’s lips. There are few things her deer like more than snacks, which can be hard to come by in this snow-covered world. “They’ll like that, I think.”

The flames of the pyre begin to subside, the heat diminishing.

“Let me know if you need anything, young Artemis. I must return to my own affairs.”

“Wait, I have a question for you. There's been something on my mind. You remember Zagreus? Back then, at Athena’s banquet…why did you refuse to help him?”

Artemis doesn’t know why she’s still thinking of Zagreus at a time like this. But if he were to receive help from a goddess as formidable as Demeter, his chances of escaping would be much higher. It isn’t often that Demeter turns up for a conversation, and in a decent mood at that. Artemis has to take this opportunity to try to help her youngest cousin.

Demeter’s brow furrows. “I will extend my aid to him when he proves himself worthy of it. Please do not trouble either of us with such concerns at a time like this. Take care, my niece.”

A frigid wind blows through the forest, agitating the fire. The cold wind swirls around Demeter, until the snow swept up in its current shrinks to a single snowflake and the goddess of seasons is gone.

The night drags on. The funeral pyre wanes, slowly depleting. Artemis pats her owls, comforting them now that the fire has nearly died out.

When it is nearly twilight, Callisto and Iphigenia return.

They bring news of the true culprit. The object of Artemis's hatred, from now on. The true criminal behind the murder of her sacred golden-antlered deer, who now is only ash.

Callisto and Iphigenia explain what they have learned.

The Patreaens had been singing songs of a fictional hero who could slay divine animals. But because mere mortals wouldn’t know how to achieve this, the details of the hero's hunts had all been incorrect.

To improve their songs, the true method for killing Artemis’s golden-antlered deer had been revealed to them by a god.

A god with an unseemly love for revelry.

Perhaps the Patreaens had not feared Artemis as they should have.

But soon their patron Dionysus will.

Chapter Text

Now that she knows the truth, Artemis is itching to cut Dionysus open like a wineskin.

But first, there's a more pressing matter to attend to.

When it comes to gods, there is no time limit for revenge. Dionysus’ life will always be there for Artemis to ruin. Revenge can wait.

But grudges are another story. Grudges must be addressed with haste.

And Aphrodite’s grudges are not something Artemis can fight with a bow and arrow. She needs to set things right between them before it’s too late.

She had acted too rashly with Aphrodite, accusing her at the first sign of evidence that could possibly be linked to her. Artemis had also lashed out at Zagreus too quickly, killing him out of pettiness. Her recent mistake with Zagreus is proof enough that she shouldn’t always act immediately on her anger.

She’s lucky that Zagreus hasn’t formed a grudge against her—although given his precarious situation, and his dependence on her help, he really can’t afford to break ties with her even if he wanted to.

But Aphrodite is exactly the type to stew in resentment.

That could turn out very badly for Artemis.

With a great degree of restraint, she puts aside her rage against Dionysus for now. She waits for the funeral pyre to burn out, completing the vigil and the final rites alongside her nymphs.

Then she heads once more to Aphrodite’s palace.

She isn’t sure what her plan is for when she arrives. She isn’t good at apologizing, not when it comes to something serious. Gods usually don’t apologize. Don’t need to.

But she can’t deny that she had cast her initial suspicions inaccurately. That she had treated Aphrodite unfairly.

Just as she’s arrived at Aphrodite’s palace and managed to swallow her pride like a sticky lump of sap in her throat, ready to actually apologize —

The goddess of love is nowhere to be found.

The closest substitute Artemis can find is the trio of Charites, the foremost goddesses of Aphrodite’s retinue. Dressed in sheer robes that leave little of their figures to the imagination, they giggle to each other at some private joke upon Artemis’s arrival, and are altogether useless at helping her locate the goddess.

“Come, sit,” Aglaea coaxes after dodging several of Artemis’s questions about Aphrodite’s whereabouts. “Why don’t you join us?”

Aglaea is weaving a garment that her nudist mistress will never wear, while Europhrosyne dances and Thalia sings. Artemis thinks bitterly to herself that her own retinue is much more useful.

“I’m not here to waste time with you,” Artemis says. “You must know where Aphrodite is.”

Aglaea gives a wry smile, strikingly reminiscent of her mistress. “If you don’t enjoy our pastimes, why would you seek our mistress?”

Shaking her head, Artemis gives up on the Charites. Aphrodite must have instructed them not to permit Artemis to seek an audience with her.

She tries to pry Aphrodite’s location out of other minor gods and nymphs in the palace, but with each attempt, it only becomes more obvious that Aphrodite does not want to be found. Artemis is just making a fool of herself trying to hunt her down.

Feeling slighted, her ichor begins to run hot, a river of anger coursing in her veins. Especially once she returns to her chariot and is reminded all over again that it’s missing a deer.

She can’t hold back anymore.

Since she’s already in a sour mood, she might as well put it to use and pay a visit to Dionysus.

At Dionysus’s vine-covered palace, Maenad women dance wildly in its halls, hair whirling as they spin and clap. Satyrs join in the revelry, playing frenzied music and distributing an endless supply of wine to further fan the flames of madness. As she marches through the halls, some of Dionysus’s partygoers express surprise at her presence, but many of them seem too preoccupied to notice. Artemis can barely get through the chaos to approach the dais where Dionysus should be seated. 

When she finally gets close enough to lay eyes on the god of insanity himself, a small gasp escapes her lips.

Dionysus is not alone.

He and a goddess are sitting together on the dais, reclining with golden goblets in hand, speaking to each other words that Artemis has no hope of hearing over the clamorous music.

The goddess is none other than Aphrodite.

Artemis burns like hot metal in the forge of Hephaestus.

Turns out the infernal goddess is in on the stunt with Dionysus!

Aphrodite sure put on a good act when Artemis first accused her, acting innocent and wounded, when she’s been colluding with Dionysus all along. To think, Artemis had nearly just apologized to her!

The shock of finding Aphrodite here fixes Artemis’s feet to the floor, leaving her unable to move even as dancing nymphs jostle into her.

From the elevated dais, Aphrodite looks out at the festivities, her languid gaze gliding across the palace until finally it lands on Artemis and her eyes widen.

Artemis draws her bow.

“Oh lovely, she’s here!” Aphrodite chimes, rising from her kline . Her voice carries over the room’s unbridled merrymaking. “Took you long enough, dearest.”

Confused, Artemis tightens her grip.

Aphrodite was expecting her?

“Who? Ohhh, wow!” Dionysus’s face lights up when he notices Artemis. “Heeey, Artemis girl! When was the last time you dropped by? Gotta be a few centuries, at least! Never thought I’d see the day my stuffy sis decided it was finally time to let loose and party, but let me tell you, I sure am glad to see it!” He turns to Aphrodite. “You knew she was coming?”

“Of course I did,” Aphrodite says. Her cheeks are wine-pink, her expression tranquil, but a devious glint appears in her eyes as she looks down at Dionysus. “You’re lucky you won’t be sober for this, love.”

Aphrodite floats down from the dais to Artemis’s side. Feeling completely lost, Artemis slowly lowers her bow, watching Aphrodite’s every move like one of her hunting owls.

Aphrodite addresses Dionysus, pacing her speech, letting each word take its full weight. “Our little huntress is here because you have crossed her. And that means you have also crossed me.”

Dionysus’s brow furrows, a slow-dawning confusion overtaking his giddiness.

“What are you doing?” Artemis hisses, but Aphrodite holds up a hand to quiet her.

“I have sworn to Artemis that I will prevent the Patreaens from overhunting in her forests. You have interfered with this matter and committed a crime in her domain.”

All Artemis can do is stare, lips parted in surprise.

The words replay in her mind.

I have sworn to Artemis…

Sworn what? They haven’t agreed on the alliance yet! Last time they spoke, they’d called the alliance off!

Aphrodite is…taking her side?

What kind of trickery is this?

Dionysus doesn’t bother to sit up straight to protest the accusation, settling for passionately waving his hand around. “Whooaa, hold on now, ladies. I can tell you’re all worked up about something, and whatever it is, I’m sure it’s just awful. But I think you’ve got the wrong guy here!”

Aphrodite gives Artemis a small nod, as if to say, You take it from here.

Artemis hesitates, trying to piece together what Aphrodite might be playing at.

If she assumes the worst of Aphrodite, it’s most likely that Aphrodite had helped Dionysus slay her golden-antlered deer, hoping to push Artemis to accept the alliance out of desperation. Now she is double-crossing Dionysus, trying to cover her tracks and appear innocent.

Artemis wants to believe that Aphrodite didn’t betray her.

But for now, she can only guess.

Still…Dionysus is the god she came here for. Regardless of Aphrodite’s role in this puzzle, Dionysus still deserves Artemis’s wrath. She can figure out later what kind of deceipt Aphrodite is attempting.

She lifts her chin to address Dionysus. “So you claim to know nothing about the Patreaen hunters who’ve slain my golden-antlered deer?”

Dionysus places a thoughtful finger to his chin. “You know, that does sound a bit familiar. But hey, let me tell you Sis, whatever happened that got you all heated up, I definitely didn’t approve of it.”

“Oh really? Because the Patreaens told me exactly where they learned how to hunt my sacred deer.”

By now, the music has quieted down, and large groups of nymphs and satyrs have paused their revelry to watch the drama unfold.

Dionysus frowns. “All right, Sis, you’re kinda starting to kill the mood here.”

“A damper in your festivities is barely recompense for what our little huntress has lost,” Aphrodite says.

“Come on, Aphrodite babe, I thought you were here to party!”

“Stop dodging, Dionysus,” Artemis says.

Although she can’t shake her suspicion of Aphrodite, it does feel good to have the goddess backing her. The support emboldens her. She likes the feeling of having Aphrodite on her side. Even if it’s a trick.

It’s…worrying.

“You’re a patron of Patreae,” Artemis continues. “At their feasts, when they started singing tales of a hunter who slayed a golden-antlered deer to save his beloved, you encouraged them to sing more. And not only that—when the bard came to your temple and asked you to improve his songs, you revealed the exact method for mortals to kill my sacred deer!”

Dionysus rasies his hands defensively. “Well, the bard did ask me to fill in the details and hey, I was honored! Those Patreaens are a cool crew, lots of music and feasts and all that, and who was I to deny them a good song? They’re mortals, Sis, they exaggerate everything. When it comes to the world of us gods, they don’t know the difference between what’s real and what’s a load of nonsense. But if what you said is true... By the Fates, I need a drink.”

Artemis waits impatiently as he takes a swig of wine.

“Let me get this straight,” he continues. “You’re telling me those mortals actually attempted what was in that song?”

“They didn’t just attempt it. They killed my deer under the impression that they had your blessing!”

Dionysus blinks at her. “Wow. Those chaps are crazy, man.”

“And whose fault is that? The god of insanity!” Artemis draws her bow again.

That finally gets Dionysus on his feet. “Whooaa, ladies, you’re not blaming me for this, are you? I mean, this is all just an unfortunate turn of events. It’s not like I told those mortals to go hunt your deer. I was just showing them a good time!” He gestures to the festivities of his hall, the musicians and wine. “Just like the good time I can show you two if we let this slide. What do you say?”

Artemis is about to let her arrow fly, but the gentle brush of Aphrodite’s hand on her shoulder makes her freeze.

Leaning to her ear, Aphrodite whispers, “Let him think he’s off the hook for now. I have an idea.”