"Did you hear about Hera's latest?" Artemis says, carefully sipping from a cup of potent wine that Athena has refilled without her asking.
"What sort of poor creature has she transformed father's paramour into this time?" Athena asks, laying out a card; Artemis slams her hand down on it, but with surprising gentleness, to the point that anyone come along would almost-but-not-quite swear they were playing at holding hands, not cards.
"A cow," Artemis replies, shaking her head, but she does not move her hand.
* * *
"Our mad uncle has made off with our spring-time sister; dragged her down with him to the underworld, it seems," Athena says by way of greeting her at home, tossing a delicious salad with surprising grace.
"Is it wrong I am perhaps, relieved, that he chose Persephone? I am glad it was not me...nor you; he's always been so boring, you know?" She asks; father has been trying to match his eldest brother up with one of his many daughters for centuries, and certainly, she imagines Athena had as many reservations at being kept perpetually in uncle's never-ending gloom and doom as she does.
"I feel bad for Persephone as well -- but better her than us...and he'd have quite a reckoning if he dared to think he could choose you," Athena says, sliding one taunt arm over hers as she hands her a fresh salad on one of their twin plates, and Artemis smiles at the familiar feel of home in another woman's hands.
***
"Your Apollo is singing to a tree," Athena says, raising an eyebrow as her twin very noisily murders a lyre, giving worship to a dead-and-disinterested dryad, and even Artemis has to agree, it's pretty embarrassing. "Is he always so loud in protesting his love who do not want it?"
"Always, I'm afraid; I certainly prefer a ...quieter paramour," she says, eyes sparkling with moonlight wickedness; Athena captures her mouth as swiftly as she sacks a city, and Apollo babbles on, completely missing the point.
greek mythology, Athena/Artemis
"What sort of poor creature has she transformed father's paramour into this time?" Athena asks, laying out a card; Artemis slams her hand down on it, but with surprising gentleness, to the point that anyone come along would almost-but-not-quite swear they were playing at holding hands, not cards.
"A cow," Artemis replies, shaking her head, but she does not move her hand.
* * *
"Our mad uncle has made off with our spring-time sister; dragged her down with him to the underworld, it seems," Athena says by way of greeting her at home, tossing a delicious salad with surprising grace.
"Is it wrong I am perhaps, relieved, that he chose Persephone? I am glad it was not me...nor you; he's always been so boring, you know?" She asks; father has been trying to match his eldest brother up with one of his many daughters for centuries, and certainly, she imagines Athena had as many reservations at being kept perpetually in uncle's never-ending gloom and doom as she does.
"I feel bad for Persephone as well -- but better her than us...and he'd have quite a reckoning if he dared to think he could choose you," Athena says, sliding one taunt arm over hers as she hands her a fresh salad on one of their twin plates, and Artemis smiles at the familiar feel of home in another woman's hands.
***
"Your Apollo is singing to a tree," Athena says, raising an eyebrow as her twin very noisily murders a lyre, giving worship to a dead-and-disinterested dryad, and even Artemis has to agree, it's pretty embarrassing. "Is he always so loud in protesting his love who do not want it?"
"Always, I'm afraid; I certainly prefer a ...quieter paramour," she says, eyes sparkling with moonlight wickedness; Athena captures her mouth as swiftly as she sacks a city, and Apollo babbles on, completely missing the point.