NIGHT ETERNAL

How many times until it's too many to draw her?

This is my 5th time ;w; oops

“ it's not obvious? ” she huffed, sparing a glance down at the blood that had amassed and crusted against the back of her pelt, sat still at the river bank. blood always seemed to run when they came together, part of an ancient toll paid by mothers to give all that was theirs until there was nothing left, she was sure of it. (she wouldn't be anymore, not once her instincts telling her to fight back receded, she knew.)

but it seemed like there was at least one thing he hadn't taken.

“ he needed to aim a little to the left and then some. safe to say we can rule out any other resemblances, ” she knew she shouldn't be too hasty to write off arcas, even if he had shot an arrow into her currently stinging shoulder. he was still learning after all and it was his first proper try at it— but he hadn't even been aiming at her. gods. she sighed, relinquishing the tension held in her body to gaze upon her heart warily, letting her frustration dispense, “ he just- couldn't wait. i told him you'd be back soon, ” he'd waited a long while for it, asked for it practically since he could talk. but the impatience on him, that one she was likely to blame for, “ ... did you- see him already then? our little bear. ”

Quick is Artemis's expression to sour, what lingering concern soon wiped clean by displeasure. ❝Do you mean to say you allowed him his first shot? With the bow I'd carved him, while Olympus had me trapped?❞ Where her words end is a hair's breadth from danger, undecided if the mishap is retaliation served efficiently or calamity narrowly avoided.

The Huntress finds herself approaching regardless, lithe fingers lifting the soiled pelt. There are few others than her beloved that the goddess would tend, skirts already muddied where she's knelt. Callisto's sister nymphs might have nursed the wound just as well as she, but they'd do little to address the other half of it.

❝He's wilful.❞ Much like you. The surest proof of his parentage, if not the warmth of maternal instinct. Nevertheless, it is her duty to guide him well in childhood. What might the little bear wish for next — to drive her chariot to the seat of her father? ❝But he'll have to learn to heed your word. The sooner the better, for both your sakes.❞

❝I'd thought to supply him a dozen blunted arrows, and my blessing for good measure. And I'd intended to witness his first draw myself... Still, it appears he's good instincts if he managed to hit you.❞

❝ I'll ask for your forgiveness pre-emptively, my lady. It has been... so very long since last I practiced. ❞

The rushing waters of the Cocytus provided a natural rhythm for her last performance. The gentle warbling of gathered shades, the faint sound of chip bags being trampled underfoot? Accoutrement and accompaniment that once surrounded the eager witchling were all, pointedly, missing now.

The Wild Isle was no Crossroads. It lacked many of the comforts and amenities of her once-home, not the least of which being a well-marked scoop for The Hunt herself to sit and sing from.

All Diana had to offer her Goddess on this freshly bloomed night was a warm fire, an overturned log, and the gentle trilling of her own voice warming up after years of disuse.

Whatever the Princess's attempts are sure to surpass that of hers, the sound of gravel markedly closer to a growl than the desired affirmation. So long is it since she'd sat in firelight, since she'd regarded its crackling not as deterrent to bloody maw, but as warmth and welcome. As long as Man has forsaken the wilds and its mistress, Her ways scorned, and Her lands laid to waste.

But her tune... not that of her Amazons, kept in memory and away from the goddess herself; yet like cleansing waters after a particularly grizzly kill. It tempers the sharpest of the Huntress's instincts and soothes her restless bloodlust.

She's regaled Artemis before, she remembers now. Head resting on paws and sung melodies of the Underworld as if they'd not fought tooth and claw just hours before. The hospitality and singular voice are always precisely what her spirits need.

It is enough to soften her vocal chords to inflect, even, express:

❝You are far too modest, Diana. Your song is a boon to me, for it reminds me of the company I used to have in- ❞ ☾ what gods could be listening? ☽ If the Huntress, solitary and unbound, was wont to wistfulness, this might be such a moment.

now that one hadn't been entirely her fault; she hadn't been the only one treading leaves beneath her restless feet while she was away, who longed to help their Lady— she was their goddess, yes, but at the core of it she was one of them. they'd treat her like they would any other huntress who was faced with a great beast, alone. “ you won't believe me if i tell you it wasn't my idea we have daily training, will you? although, i can't say i put up much of a fight. or- any, really. ” she sighed. they had been longing for her as much as she had been, so how could she turn them down?

it'd slowly become clear to her, what she needed to be in her Lady's absence, and how the fresh sting of her leave made it more than a little difficult to refuse anyone's wishes, had her begrudgingly conceding to the sort of frivolous fun that had become harder and harder to recall.

“ that was a good try. but i don't think i'm as merciful as I used to be, my Lady... i'm afraid all the responsibility of practically leading your band of nymphs might have gone to my head. it won't be so easy to get out of this. ” she felt her lungs fill full, for the first time in a long time as she walked by her side, tugging her hand closer to her side to squeeze past the twin trees ahead, to have her closer. because she could. a dangerous thought to have— as she felt a greedy hunger like no other, starved in her stomach— to take while she still could.

she exhaled sharply to bring her attention back, shoulders lifting while she tried earnestly to keep a teasing smile from her lips, letting it breech the way she glanced her way instead, “ i have no clue what you mean. why would i want to torment my goddess, right after she's finally returned to me? ”

but then she almost stopped walking, slowing as hearing gained priority above all senses. she could see the olive branch for what it was, and she felt the load on her shoulders lighten at the attempt, after a few long moments. she'd waited years for this, after all. who was she to refuse a goddess? lest she become exactly like her father. let alone the one who kept her heart. but it wasn't as easy as she would have thought, unfurling the stiff furs from around her that had shielded her all this time. it'd always been easier, weathering the after effects of her brief visits while she was something nature and mortals agreed was a thing of anger, expected rage and volatility, rather than... a girl. quarrelling like she was her lover which was- she was above such a thing, wasn't she ? gods.

she schooled herself, fighting the exasperation she felt. there was only one right answer, when her goddess reached for her. she stopped, turning into her and searching her for what was needed to climb this hill that had separated them. no doubt she'd have to climb it a dozen more times before it became easy. til she left it behind entirely. “ ... i think it depends. on how much praise exactly... we'll see how you fair, by the time i get to you. ”

she threw her a smile then, the least she could do to soothe after the torment she had accused her of, “ you really don't know what i'd choose? maybe that'll be another surprise for you to enjoy then. ”

she found herself leaning into her, drawing her other hand into her grasp as she tilted her head in the direction ahead, “ ... follow me? i'd hardly recognise you by scent alone if you wandered into these woods without me knowing. i can help. — if you'd let me. ” her Lady wore solitude well, a second skin she'd tried to slip her way past a long time ago. she'd soon find out what had held up while left untouched and what hadn't.

❝Daily — ?❞ The goddess does not concern herself to conceal her dismay, little else she's had a chance to do while absent from this place all those years. Tight-lipped and slow to words, she says not without stiffness: ❝I see I was entirely mistaken to allow freely your relations with your Amazon sisters. In any case, you'll be sure to remind them all that fighting wars is hardly part of their ordained duties, won't you, Callisto?❞ Warriors she's never had need for, and Callisto ought to've known better.

She will cease those ideas, whatever she might have made of serving Artemis in times of war. This is not then. If suffer a feast she must to convince the nymph of that, well, she'd already resigned herself to it.

The Huntress smooths her bristled furs, figuratively. ❝I see that clear.❞ It is not wholly true: Callisto has not changed so much as fallen into natural tendencies in her absence. She'd always that headstrong impulse and the boldness to follow through; and once, Artemis had even delighted in it. She's ill-practised in such things these days, quick to impatience and quick to outrage. But goddesses such as she are not of a singular nature alone. She is all that, and altogether devoid of appetite to spark new disharmony with her dearest.

❝You'll not let me leave until I hear out all my Huntress's woes over my abandonment.❞ Unnecessary torment to make a point she has repeatedly.

But she is obliging, allowing and appreciating the press of her devoted's furs at her side, making paltry pretense when they do not part for paces afterwards. And she is magnanimous, stooping to implore her love's forgiveness, as if it could be presented like boon from handmaiden to goddess. She humours the nymph her teasing and lets her touch soften her own laden shoulders. With her is where Artemis'd left the tenderness solitude forgot, the heart of warm golden days and opposite to the gloom of death under their feet.

❝Would've made a poor spy letting the scent of the surface give me away. Must've gotten used to it after a while...❞ This, she says not without pause. Another small offence Callisto must surely take, the things she's left behind along with her. It does not adequately distract from the feeling of palms sliding against hers, the attention that rough calluses command. Decidedly not the smoothness of her bow, or sleekness of an arrow, both practical and blessedly free from complicated emotion.

This is what she sought, no? Putting off the cheery welcome for the sake of intimate company. How familiar and strange is it now that she's returned. To have hands in hers, warmth and service offered as if she'd not fended for herself for a century on her own. But, there was never a question; after all, Artemis is supposed to be making amends.

❝By all means, lead the way.❞

her eyes, no longer glued to the tall fields of grass surrounding one side of them had slid, abruptly at her Lady's tone. a mistake if there ever was one; she wasn't ready, not nearly, to face the entirety of those eyes like a sunburst in this light, boring deep into her soul, so soon after─

she'd dragged her up and down hills, having thieved her away while the others dozed in the shade. felt the comfort of having her at her side, the way they bumped and twisted closer as they walked.

and then she'd gone and leaned in with a amusement curling her lips, lifted herself taller to pull the tufts of leaves that had wrung themselves around her crown in the tall fields. the one time she couldn't hide from her so easily in plain sight, her antlers giving her away. it was nothing out of the ordinary. but she was only mortal, or- whatever it was that allowed her to turn into a creature four times the size of herself. she never stood a chance, in either form.

it was different, she told herself, out here, just them, with no other eyes or hands to distract and make more impersonal a task that was... it was ridiculous. but her body had been set ablaze even more than it already was from heaving her pelt all this way in the blistering heat. and frozen at the same time, her hands stalled where they fell off the smooth bone under her fingers at the request.

a breath was forced from her mouth. she had no choice. friend or goddess, it didn't matter much; when she was spoken to like that she had to be at the ready. her furrowed eyebrows were lifting high, “ it - wasn't you... alright, i'll not tear my eyes away from you for as long as you're with me still. since that is what you wish for, ” and she held fast to her promise in equal parts devotion and play, levelling her with a thick, weighted stare she was sure had to be betraying her in some measure.

she tried to lighten her voice, purge from it traces of her inner turmoil, resuming the soft trail of her fingers down the side of her neck without holding her breath, “ ... was it the walk then? ... have i tired you out already, My Lady? ”

Hawk-sharp eyes do not miss the flush in her cheeks, deepened whilst shaded from the heat of Helios's chariot. But despite it all, it is with a brazenness ☾ that grows increasingly familiar ☽ that the nymph obeys, gaze as heavy as the day she'd ushered her to her sacred lands.

It must be devotion that made the very best of her Huntresses; fierce willingness not just to serve, but to hone oneself into an exemplar of her goddess's skill. To become one with the Hunt, its domain the forests; beautiful and wild and deadly as the creatures Artemis presides over. Much of this has Callisto already proven in the short span of seasons, yet the determination remains, going and doing as her sister nymphs would never dare to.

Such antics that the goddess has yet to tire of, to great surprise — she would not be here otherwise, talked into hardly a walk.

The goddess Artemis presses tightly her lips. ❝Did you not intend for me to savour this spring, after all the pains you took seeking out such a place?❞ If one must trek through mountainous terrain in full summer's heat, then the reward must be to submerge in its fresh waters.

The sunlight suits the sight — and the nymph — well enough; her eyes the colour of the golden forest floor, bright and adoring, the trek setting her ochre skin aglow under her great bear's pelt. It is more pleasure for Artemis, to have such beauty to look upon. Though, ❝Have you no partiality to the nighttime, Callisto? I find the sun can be overly harsh, and Selene's light far more suited to stalking.❞

❝But I can see you've taken advantage of your sisters' repose to have me all to yourself.❞ It is not the first occurrence of its kind.

❝Now, before I tire of this pointless standing... ❞ She will not suffer to be kept waiting in such heat, even if her prickliness can only be surface under the nymph's tender ministrations. Plenty of time for that in the water,

❝You know who to thank that you have no help with attending my needs.❞

if she were so bold.

unfocused eyes opened, like from a long slumber up at the goddess taking a height advantage. didn't bother her as she tilted her head back in her hand and tried to focus on the familiarly of her woodsy gaze, a spring spent in crunching her way to her sacred spot, rather than the cold dark of this one.

she narrowed her eyes, 〝 no, i- ... ungh... 〞 was weak, barely protesting. but it wasn't about being relaxed, this was about... — ugh, couldn't think straight like this. ALL SHE KNEW right now was the ambrosia pulsing through her, pulling at every thread until it was released. all she knew was this attachment, indulging for once in the need she felt to keep her here, usher away her shroud of solitude that was as thick as her armour.

she gripped the back of her thighs, holding them to her as she rolled her eyes up to hers, 〝 sure you'd love it if i wasn't disturbing your peace and dragging you out there so often though. 〞this was just temporary, though.

she sounded beneath her breath again at her closeness, feeling it BURN a flush across every surface of her skin beneath the armour. a cradling warmth she was hardly used to— usually didn't let anyone close enough. but then she was pulling her waist in against her like she could feel her on her very skin, thumb rolling on her bare skin there.

her eyebrows furrowed as her tongue met hers, not trying to prove anything for once as she indulged in the tip of artemis' tongue across hers, shifting an inch to ask for more until it hit her in this daze that she hadn't said what we wanted to say, 〝 not like that- not why i'm... 〞 she breathed out. wanted to... make things right between them. show her gratitude, do something with what was crawling inside of her right now —

MORE THAN THAT, could see it clearer now. why she kept coming back here, to her, aside from her usefulness, straight-forwardness, and their understanding... the goddess of the hunt brought her balance as it turned out, made her bones melt inside her suit, just a little when she was around. helped TIP HER in the other direction, much as it pained her to do things her way. didn't even know she was lacking before.

but now all that single-minded devotion to her task was channelled here for the night thanks for the liquid burning in her, able to get absorbed in the sweet taste of her mouth as she held her flush against her, urging her closer still with the metal digging into her skin. had to avert her gaze for a moment of clarity from it all,〝 ambroisa might've gone to my head but— ... need this- you. trying to do this your way, alright... not so used to it. 〞

Already guessed as much, from the honey dripping from her tongue. But no such foreknowledge could dull the impact of hearing this. It— ... had known them to be kindred beings both, shared scorn for the types of affections too many fall to at the very core of their mutual understanding. Catches the vigilant Huntress off-guard, raw and ready and far too close for comfort. Stuns her for speechless for a second.

These arms are a cage, though far less dire than that of her admission. Artemis takes her jaw between cool hands, but not for fondness. Tilted to face her openly, she cannot help but feel partly shamed to witness the goddess in such vulnerability; misplaced honesty. Together they'd alleviate the solitude, yes; but this tenderness, it...

Can see why she chooses to avoid the indulgences otherwise favoured by their kind. She runs her thumbs 'cross hungry cheekbones, pausing for a sorely owed retraction.

❝My Nemesis, ❞ She sighs, none forthcoming. If anyone were to not perceive her distance as biting and cold, it ought to be Retribution.

Melinoë pursues you even as we speak. I'm certain she is to whom your words are meant. But there are a great many things that needn't be spoken between them to be understood.

Instead: ❝You've grown sweet.❞ Soft. Though she'll gladly take the advantage. She presses her into the ground, eyes never leaving that of impassioned yellow. Might be drunkenly off the mark about needing her, but doesn't have to mean she doesn't give it anyway. Call it reparations; an apology. Never was good at sticking it through.

How swiftly does the goddess of the hunt seek to touch her while their lips meet, skirting over adamant plates and deftly slipping under its edge. Nemesis need not instruct; she usually does. Hasn't been crushed against her too-tight grip and ever-present armour, either. Artemis grazes the underside of her thigh and nudges. She settles between knees fallen open, to take stock of the goddess's impatience.

❝I rather like it. How about I make sure my way proves to be a treat, in return?❞

❝ I suppose you are right. Neither of us would much reason to cross paths, otherwise. ❞ She replies, mismatched eyes casting their gaze across the taverna. Who knew the dead could be so lively, singing their merriment of her victory, swaying and circling each other as if the music itself led them by their pale hands, feet going around, and around, and around, never touching the ground. . .

Should she close her eyes, she would still feel the sting of her skin splitting under his scythe, would hear how his venom gurgled as she carved his throat with her sickle.

❝ I don't think of the future, often. ❞ The admission slips forth without permission from her loosened tongue, landing clunkily between them. Melinoë smiles, wry, though the irony of her own words is not enough to let it reach her eyes. Time's arrow marches ever forward, yet her waking nights are filled with her own desperate hands, forcing it back. ❝ Well, I do. I think of brother - mother and father, back together. I think of you and Headmistress there. Odysseus. Even Nem. ❞

But where exactly there lied, Melinoë could not point to. Hell nor Heaven could seem to hold her want.

❝Well it's high time for you to.❞ It is not entirely devoid of understanding, for the way she says it. The Huntress herself takes pride in those all-consuming moments of focus on the hunt — eye to arrow to mark and naught else; though the tunnel vision of her Sister's kind is hardly comparable. ❝And not just in abstracts, you ought to think of what'll make you happy in the rest of your immortal life.❞

❝The Moirai know you deserve it.❞

Whether that is a place Artemis may no longer go once their realms are restored should be no matter. After all, her Sister's so accomplished as to overcome the Fates' will and her blood curse.

❝You know, when the King and Queen of the Underworld ascend their throne again, it's more like than not I shan't be allowed to set foot down here. Up on the surface might just be where we'll have to meet.❞ She says it as if it does not dampen the sweeping highs of drink a little. Not accustomed to this sort of wistfulness and wanting, is she. Never usually lets grow enough attachment for that.

But, it's hardly a thought befitting their celebration. For the love of Melinoë, the goddess of the hunt's more than willing to put aside her miserly ways.

❝Better hunting on the surface, too, I can promise you that. You might think cutting down a horde of wretches is a thrill, but I'll show you more worthy prey yet.❞ Made the same promise to Zagreus, once. This one, at least, she can keep.

❝There's the nighttime, besides. Being of the surface doesn't exactly predispose one to tolerating Apollo's obnoxious light, you know. I've always been more partial to Selene's myself.❞

her grip loosened, and with it left all the air from her lungs, like she'd been afraid to let go when the time finally came to part again— a sinking feeling in her stomach where there never was before.

not once in all her years by her side had she questioned her place in her Lady's Hunt, or their bond, and she wasn't about to start just because she was out of reaching distance. her devotion was stronger than that, the lively flame in her chest not one that could be smothered so easily— not when her very appearance had her breathing much easier already, her presence more comforting than the weight of her pelt cocooned around her.

their every habit and routine had been worn well into the grounds around them, and moments that were surely sweeter than anything found on Olympus itself were forever pressed into her skin... and yet, that seemed to count for nothing when the time had come to shut her out, no discussion spared to entertain her concerns or thoughts as she usually might.

but she could put the perpetual sting she felt aside. it would heal, was already lessening with her back where she belonged, for good. and it was hardly logical to be angry with a goddess; completely irrational when she'd given her everything. but just as all the stories she'd heard growing up had said: it was complicated business to say the least, getting involved with the gods. she'd always felt her and her Lady above such tales but now ... it was all too tangled up, a tight sensation in her foolish chest that dared to ache for more than she was given. (after all, years and years had passed, her goddess fairing just well without... had she come to the realisation that the heart she had offered her so long ago was no longer as valuable as it once was? ... and would it even matter if she had? it was still hers, after all).

nevertheless, she was sure she could still read her as well, glimpsing parts of her that her own heart had always sought to protect. and as she pulled away she was sure what she saw was... uncertainty, a hesitance around her that had been festering between them. an effect of their bonding stretching further than it ever had before, no doubt.

it pressed down on her chest, the idea that she'd think her disagreement would mean for any less love or devotion— that'd never been up for debate. if anything she had prayed more fervently, having words with even the Moirai on the safety of her goddess in their grand schemes.

so her fingers lingered by hers before she decisively scooped hers into her grasp, squeezing around hers tightly. ran her thumb along one of her knuckles like it wasn't the first time in too long and tried not to marvel at the sight of her in her grasp, in her woods again.

“ i'm with you, of course. as though there'd be anywhere else i'd rather be... and well, where to start... you should know the young ones happen to be very excellent at killing titans these days, so be careful about unearthing that unless you'd like a long demonstration... and the others have kept their own spirits raised as always. probably thankful if i never instruct them to do a thing again, and i really don't blame them... everyone is well, my Lady. all but for the woods themselves... but i've been telling them of your return. ”

the rest wasn't so easily answered without revisiting the loneliness that she couldn't shake. so a sigh blew from her mouth, a pang in her eyes that she wouldn't send her way at the risk of ruining their steady path forward, “ you know as much already, i think, ” she'd been privy to the moods that had stricken her— reminded her all too disdainfully of being in her old home, kept behind walls and out of plans for one reason or another, how injustice itched and crawled under her skin and her how sharp her tongue had to be before she'd learned to shoot more deadly than any one of her father's soliders.

“ i've managed fine. just as we all did. just as you did... — but i have spent far more time foraging than i'd ever planned on doing. if it weren't for the feast in your honour tonight, i'd sooner forgo any scarce thing growing in these bushes for at least another few years, no matter how sweet... but- it's over now, isn't it? so i'm well. and it helps that i get to spend an entire evening with you... are you about ready to be celebrated into the night then? since i'll be making good on my word. ”

The response tells all, more potent than any string of words on its own. But how does it measure up, alongside the tender clasp of their hands and the quiet significance of affections long lost to time? Used to be the Huntress could see through to her beloved's heart as easily as a cloudless night. Lately, however...

❝I'm certain they'll have words with me over how long it's taken to subdue our enemy, having done so many times over before we gods could so much as manage it.❞ It was always easy for it all to sound so inconsequential in the eyes of a goddess. The greatest monstrosity ever known, an immortal blood feud; casting the short-lived to the stars — entirely as unreachable as a soul in the Underworld, but preserving its presence at least in the pain of that now-immortalised gaze over one's shoulder. What were they to her Fates-ordained position? Retreating once more to solitudinous work so as not to involve the nymphs in a forest just afield of the army's march, and weathering their ire.

But she remembers now, the feeling of peace upon these glades, stretched to eternity. To be home and tarrying for longer than a wave and a sharp objection. Didn't have to field distance such as this from Callisto, the tactfulness and care in speech she'd never needed back then. Such is the price of her authority.

...If only it did not interfere with this attachment of theirs, nor provoke Callisto's tendencies towards audacity — so self-sure to try her will against her own goddess!

But Time marches ever forward. Back to a sense of normalcy in the things even she cannot deny: the pull of her steady hand, the stillness of trees and the sounds of life. She is home and by her most favoured's side, as soothing as birdsong and twice as charming. It quiets the part of her turned acidic and brusque, and lets unfurl an ease she'd not realised had been absent.

❝I'll be sure to congratulate the young ones on their newfound skill. Though, I hope you haven't succeeded in making warriors of them all.❞ She watches carefully for her reaction, both praise and caution. Callisto is accomplished as she is dedicated as she is ambitious, but here is the only place the outside need never concern them. And not her, now, coming free of her heavy pelt and headpiece, that she may simply be one of them.

❝I'd argue it'd be a far greater occasion for celebration when this place is once more flourishing, ❞ This, at least is familiar. It is bait, the Huntress surreptitiously glancing at Callisto to judge its efficacy, for she is both well-versed in the goddess's tendencies and far too invested in the throwing of this feast to truly be for her benefit. Her fondness blooms anew, thinking it well-meaning and heartening as much as it serves her own devious purposes. ❝ — if I didn't already know how dead set on tormenting me all night you are.❞

❝Tell me, does this at least make up for some of the past?❞ She would not ask if she thought the topic still too sore. ❝If I promise to dance with you and the others and suffer through every offering and song of praise until the very end?❞

❝And what then, if it happens your Sisters are so taken by revelry to fall into each other? Would you have me still remain, or will you be so gracious as to allow me respite?❞

Can't say how long it's been since those eyes were filled with aught but guardedness, but she's determined to try. After all, in it is everything joyful of this forest — the greenest sprouts and twinkling light, earthy comfort and warmest pelts. ❝We might flee to these woods, where we can see to all that loneliness you spoke of.❞