Artemis smiled as Apollo opened the door to their oikos.
It was a beautiful house surrounding a garden filled to the brim with wildlife and even some vegetables. The walls were painted by Apollo himself and some even had mosaics on them. Artemis told her brother it was unnecessary but he wouldn’t listen, saying that if the garden and the outer walls have been left just as wild as she wished then the inner walls could be as colorful as he desired.
He was as dressed as a newly hatched baby bird, not that she could judge, her weapons where the only thing covering her pale skin. She looked as ready for battle as she was for xenia, as Leto was returning to Hyperborea. Apollo assured her of that fact a fortnight ago, eyes unwavering even now, eyes of the predator that he really was. Artemis was absolutely convinced that they looked laughable, hunter and predator working together.
She left the nymphs on the edge of the river Eridanos, Artemis knew they would wait for her, days and even centuries if they had to, although Artemis wondered how many of them would be pure by the time she came back.
She let Apollo drag her to the gynaeceum, where, on the klines, was the lovelies dress that she had seen. Stars woven together to play the part of a dress, just like she was
“Couldn’t let my sister not look the part of the hostess, could I?” He kissed her neck, knowing that’s the most she will let him do, knowing that she was only playing, just as they had when they we’re in the lovely forest for only a day, that lasted weeks, she could still fell those mortal’s terror when they realized that the day would not end, just as Apollo will never end. For what reason, not even Gaia herself knew, much less Artemis.
Artemis looked at her twin and her smile widened. She felt ready, sparks under her skin and an almost satisfied heart.
She put on the dress that Apollo gifted her. He watched.
He went to the andron. She followed.
He dressed. She watched.
She started to set the table. He brought the wine.
They get a cow and rip out its heart.
Apollo sets up everything for the symposia. Artemis cooks them dinner.
Divine siblings sit at the table waiting for their mother. They wait and wait and wait and wait…
The dinner never gets cold. The hostess never rises and the host never speaks. Neither move.
The day doesn’t end. Babies are morn and made of stone. Mortal scream and scream and scream…
The door opens. Apollo smiles. Artemis rises.
Nyx runs free, cloak falling freely behind her. Mortals scream in ecstasy. And a mother smiles at a predator playing the role of a hostess greats her in a place that she can’t bear staying for long, let alone calling it home.
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So, you inspired me to write this, I used some actual ancient Greek words
Oikos refers to three related but distinct concepts: the family, the family’s property, and the house.
gynaeceum - women's room
Greek houses would typically contain an ‘andron’, or men’s room. This was a sort of lounge where men would host friends and associates and hold ‘symposia’, essentially dinner parties.
By then the Greeks had a couch/bed called a “kline” that was used for lounging and sleeping (hence our word “recline”).
I love this to bits.
