Lord of Light

In thy western halls of gold When thou sittest in thy state, Bards, that erst sublimely told Heroic deeds, and sang of fate, With fervour seize their adamantine lyres, Whose chords are solid rays, and twinkle radiant fires.

[maidofmoonlight-blog]

*lets her hands rest on his shoulders* You don’t have to know now, but you can learn still, yes? You could try to draw from what you Saw…

I’m a poor example to follow, but I’ve been learning… and you’ll always have me, Apollo. 

[dontcallmealyre-blog]

I Saw too many things.  Far too many things.  Worlds that could never exist.

...You have always been a good example, adelfi.  It's me that's set a bad precedent.  Of course I will.  Why would I ever doubt that?

[maidofmoonlight-blog]

*bites back a comment about eclipses* Only in body. We were always stronger together…

[dontcallmealyre-blog]

I don't know how to be mortal, Artemis.

[maidofmoonlight-blog]

*slowly untangles herself from his grasp, taking his face in her hands* You’re okay now. I’m okay. I’m not alone… You followed me.

[dontcallmealyre-blog]

I'm Blind and weak, adelfi.  I'm not okay.  ...Of course I did.  Sun and moon, chasing each other across the sky for eternity.

[maidofmoonlight-blog]

The other mortals have been good company, but the woman is nosy and meddling… You shouldn’t have looked for me the way you did… You hurt yourself, adelfo.

[dontcallmealyre-blog]

...I couldn't stop.  I tried, but I couldn't.

[maidofmoonlight-blog]

That is… definitely one way of putting it. *hides her face in his chest, speaking quietly* I missed you…

[dontcallmealyre-blog]

*rests his chin on her head* I...  I've been absent... and I'm... sorry.

[maidofmoonlight-blog]

*freezes for a moment, lets out a weak breath and curls into him*

[dontcallmealyre-blog]

*holds her for a long time, running his fingers through her hair* Silver lining?

[maidofmoonlight-blog]

Neither would be particularly surprising.

*hesitates for a moment, but steps closer to Apollo*

[dontcallmealyre-blog]

It's likely the former and will be until he needs me.

*pulls her into a tight hug*

[maidofmoonlight-blog]

Either a blessing in disguise, or a worrying sign.

What do you plan to do?

[dontcallmealyre-blog]

Perhaps he no longer cares... or he's found a new love to chase.  You know how he gets.

...Come here.

[maidofmoonlight-blog]

A demigod…. *wants to ask if their father knows*

[dontcallmealyre-blog]

Yes.  He hasn't contacted me.

[maidofmoonlight-blog]

Oh. *almost raises her hand to touch him, stopping herself and crossing her arms across her chest instead*

[dontcallmealyre-blog]

Heracles and I would have far more in common now...

[maidofmoonlight-blog]

… Mortal?

[dontcallmealyre-blog]

Something along those lines.

[dontcallmealyre-blog]

maidofmoonlight said: *cautiously* How are you feeling?

...Weak.

[dontcallmealyre-blog]

Adelfo?

Empros, adelfi...

[superamazingthingsilove]

[dontcallmealyre-blog]

An Unravelled Thread

He gets lost sometimes.

There are good days, usually when he Knows he's needed for some purpose or another, like mouthing off to Gabriel or waiting to talk with his Oracle the Prophet, but there are more bad days than good.

He can't see the tapestry for the threads.  The details, the subtle nuances, the big changes, they obsess him.  His mind will fixate on one, such as Artemis having streaks of red in her hair instead of blond when the sun shines on it, and follow every place it leads.

It exhausts him.  He doesn't want to do it, but when he gets caught, he can't help it.  He can't control it.  He knows, now, that this is among the reasons why his Father had taken away his human Oracles.  His obsession with them and his possessive nature burned them up on the outside, but this... Seeing too much... burned them from the inside out and turned their minds to ash.

He starts to feel the wear when the season changes to Autumn.  The days are shorter, limiting his energy as they always have due to his connection to the sun, and he finds himself sleeping more and more.  He doesn't like to sleep.  He hasn't since he and Artemis were children and they would hid someplace to sleep for fun.  When he sleeps, he Dreams, but Morpheus is kind enough not to leave him stuck there.

It gets harder and harder to have good days as they grow shorter.  He sleeps the entire first week of December away, shivering and muttering to himself.  He feels wrong.  Not himself.  The few prayers he gets grow quieter until he cannot hear them at all.  When he finally wakes, Artemis is gone, but so are the threads that have tormented him so.

He drags himself out of bed and into the bathroom to bathe.  The growth of his beard surprises him when he sees himself in the mirror.  It's not something that just happens, if he wants one, he chooses to grow it, and it doesn't go away when he wills it to.  It stays, mocking him, until he collects an unused razor of Artemis's and goes about shaving it off.  When he breaks his skin with the blade, he stops, fearful, and watches bright red blood, mixed with a heavy tinge of gold, drip onto the white porcelain of the sink.

The razor drops from his hands and he ends up on the floor against the tub, face half shaved and scabbing, hands covered in shaving foam.  He has been afraid before, in the long years of his life, but he has never felt fear like this.  It paralyzes him, keeping him in place long after he hears his beloved twin return home.

He is diminished and Blind, frightened and... mortal.

[dontcallmealyre-blog]

I've got a question for you.

No hello?  Ask anyway.  I don't know if I'll know the answer.

[dontcallmealyre-blog]

Listen, I hate your guts, but I need to talk to you.

Then speak, because we both know that I live to fulfill your needs, Oracle. -snarky as fuq-