fic (Transfiguration) Greek Myth, AU, Artemis/Apollo
Title: Transfiguration
Author: karrenia_rune
Rating: PG
Words: 1,028
Summary: Hundreds of years have passed since the hey-day of Mt. Olyumpus and yet the still endure..and life goes on.
Disclaimer: the myths and the characters are not mine; they are only 'borrowed' for the purposes of the story. Note This was originally written and posted over at A03 for opheliahyde's request from the 2011 Rare Fandom Yuletide Fic Exchange as an extra treat.
"Transfiguration" by karrenia
“Everything changes, everything grows, and everything dies; that is with the sole exception of things that have never known any semblance of ever having being alive.”
“Change, I must admit, is difficult, but I see your point, in that it is neither good or bad,” Apollo replied. “It is simply change.”
He conceded the point when they engage in their semi-annual debate on the nature of such things. He lost track of the tally somewhere along the fifth or fourth decade stemming from the rise and fall of Olympus’ zenith.
“Do you ever miss Olyumpus?” Artemis inquired at one point in their travels.
“I would not say, I miss any one place, but the company, aye that was good, and the contests of art and music, those I do long for.”
“Time was when I too desired the company of our fellows, and it pulled at my heart to be away from the forest that was ever in my heart,” Artemis mused.
“You were ever a solitary one by nature,” Apollo replied with a tender smile.
“Time was when even one who is solitary enjoys company,” she replied, a bit more sharply than she had intended.
She caught a glimpse of that celebrated bronzed profile as turns a bit away from her piercing stare and wonders if he took offense at her sharp tone, but then realized that is thinking perhaps of the time when he too had once desired solitude at the places he had known, Delphi, and the like.
After a few moments of awkward silence had elapsed Apollo turned to regard his twin sister once more. This time his expression on his mobile and handsome face is as smooth as silk, and wonders that he could ever have been as subtle and cunning as his reputation had declared if, if she can read his moods and thoughts as easily as reading a scroll.
Still, his as subtle as his reputation declared him, perhaps even more so, and she hopes that as close as they have become over the past few decades, there yet remains more for each of them to discover about one another and they knew world in which they find themselves in.
“Time to an immortal is as fluid as the flowing of a vast and mighty river.
And much like a river they both have discovered that one can either find a means by which to navigate that river or be swallowed up by it. He likes the river metaphor mainly because of its fluidity, the way an actual river will reflect sunlight off of its mirrored surface no matter at what position the sun he is lord over, holds in the sky.
Artemis prefers the moon, he knows this, and does not begrudge her for preferring it over the day-star. The moon is a friend to hunters, or huntresses, for lovers, for dreamers.
For his part, taking into account all its phases, it’s waxing and waning, well, it is too pale and cold a satellite for his bright spirit.
It is said, although she can’t recall where she heard it, no doubt it was a mortal philosopher: perhaps Plato or was it Aristotle, they had a made for themselves over the past few centuries, Artemis thinks that the gods’ power waxes and wanes like the moon, that when mortals stop believing and/or worshipping the Immortals, their power is thereby sapped just a little more.
She pauses in the hunt that is more ceremonial than practical and turns to face her brother/ her lover and shakes her mane of winter-kissed brown hair. “We are and ever shall be survivors.”
“What are we surviving for?” He asks, not so much because he does not understand what she says, or more importantly by what she left unsaid, is that in his present mood, he enjoys being contradictory, obstinate. It is a game they play, on the hunt, exploring new regions, new civilizations, and new ways of doing things that the ever expanding tribes of mankind have discovered.
Every so often they encounter other deities worshipped and importuned too by these new tribes that dwell outside of the realms they have known among the Hellenes and their conquered territories. Most of the time these encounters have led to strife and it is fortunate that both he and she have had extensive training in the art of warfare. Although,
Artemis thinks that within the memory of gods and mortals alike the warring among their kind had more than likely had dire consequences on the mortal plane.
At other times they have found parallels among the gods/goddesses of these other tribes, and even unlikely friendships. Apollo, tilting his leonine head to one side as thinking over his next words, thinks that indeed they are the fortunate ones, for they have not only survived to the changes wrought upon their world, but thrived as well.
They have come far in their meandering travels across the world, from the planes and valleys, and sundry islands of the Hellenes, to the deserts of the east, to the steeps to north and east, and yet there is always more lying tantalizing just over the next valley, the next mountain; and they journey on.
Curiosity begs them on, too impatient, in the way of deities to linger over-long in any one place as appealing or welcoming it might be, or whatever it might have in the way of amenities, population and civilization to recommend one place over another.
“Artemis, dearest Artemis, verily I would not have come so far, nor done as well as I have were it not for your company and counsel.” He reached for her to take her into his arms as they embrace.
For her part Artemis replied. “I should be very content in your company.”
And much to her surprise she discovered that she meant every word. In the back of her mind she thinks,
'We are traveling together, you and I, and if there is any power while this world shall last to make it so; we shall not be parted bliss or woe.’
Author: karrenia_rune
Rating: PG
Words: 1,028
Summary: Hundreds of years have passed since the hey-day of Mt. Olyumpus and yet the still endure..and life goes on.
Disclaimer: the myths and the characters are not mine; they are only 'borrowed' for the purposes of the story. Note This was originally written and posted over at A03 for opheliahyde's request from the 2011 Rare Fandom Yuletide Fic Exchange as an extra treat.
"Transfiguration" by karrenia
“Everything changes, everything grows, and everything dies; that is with the sole exception of things that have never known any semblance of ever having being alive.”
“Change, I must admit, is difficult, but I see your point, in that it is neither good or bad,” Apollo replied. “It is simply change.”
He conceded the point when they engage in their semi-annual debate on the nature of such things. He lost track of the tally somewhere along the fifth or fourth decade stemming from the rise and fall of Olympus’ zenith.
“Do you ever miss Olyumpus?” Artemis inquired at one point in their travels.
“I would not say, I miss any one place, but the company, aye that was good, and the contests of art and music, those I do long for.”
“Time was when I too desired the company of our fellows, and it pulled at my heart to be away from the forest that was ever in my heart,” Artemis mused.
“You were ever a solitary one by nature,” Apollo replied with a tender smile.
“Time was when even one who is solitary enjoys company,” she replied, a bit more sharply than she had intended.
She caught a glimpse of that celebrated bronzed profile as turns a bit away from her piercing stare and wonders if he took offense at her sharp tone, but then realized that is thinking perhaps of the time when he too had once desired solitude at the places he had known, Delphi, and the like.
After a few moments of awkward silence had elapsed Apollo turned to regard his twin sister once more. This time his expression on his mobile and handsome face is as smooth as silk, and wonders that he could ever have been as subtle and cunning as his reputation had declared if, if she can read his moods and thoughts as easily as reading a scroll.
Still, his as subtle as his reputation declared him, perhaps even more so, and she hopes that as close as they have become over the past few decades, there yet remains more for each of them to discover about one another and they knew world in which they find themselves in.
“Time to an immortal is as fluid as the flowing of a vast and mighty river.
And much like a river they both have discovered that one can either find a means by which to navigate that river or be swallowed up by it. He likes the river metaphor mainly because of its fluidity, the way an actual river will reflect sunlight off of its mirrored surface no matter at what position the sun he is lord over, holds in the sky.
Artemis prefers the moon, he knows this, and does not begrudge her for preferring it over the day-star. The moon is a friend to hunters, or huntresses, for lovers, for dreamers.
For his part, taking into account all its phases, it’s waxing and waning, well, it is too pale and cold a satellite for his bright spirit.
It is said, although she can’t recall where she heard it, no doubt it was a mortal philosopher: perhaps Plato or was it Aristotle, they had a made for themselves over the past few centuries, Artemis thinks that the gods’ power waxes and wanes like the moon, that when mortals stop believing and/or worshipping the Immortals, their power is thereby sapped just a little more.
She pauses in the hunt that is more ceremonial than practical and turns to face her brother/ her lover and shakes her mane of winter-kissed brown hair. “We are and ever shall be survivors.”
“What are we surviving for?” He asks, not so much because he does not understand what she says, or more importantly by what she left unsaid, is that in his present mood, he enjoys being contradictory, obstinate. It is a game they play, on the hunt, exploring new regions, new civilizations, and new ways of doing things that the ever expanding tribes of mankind have discovered.
Every so often they encounter other deities worshipped and importuned too by these new tribes that dwell outside of the realms they have known among the Hellenes and their conquered territories. Most of the time these encounters have led to strife and it is fortunate that both he and she have had extensive training in the art of warfare. Although,
Artemis thinks that within the memory of gods and mortals alike the warring among their kind had more than likely had dire consequences on the mortal plane.
At other times they have found parallels among the gods/goddesses of these other tribes, and even unlikely friendships. Apollo, tilting his leonine head to one side as thinking over his next words, thinks that indeed they are the fortunate ones, for they have not only survived to the changes wrought upon their world, but thrived as well.
They have come far in their meandering travels across the world, from the planes and valleys, and sundry islands of the Hellenes, to the deserts of the east, to the steeps to north and east, and yet there is always more lying tantalizing just over the next valley, the next mountain; and they journey on.
Curiosity begs them on, too impatient, in the way of deities to linger over-long in any one place as appealing or welcoming it might be, or whatever it might have in the way of amenities, population and civilization to recommend one place over another.
“Artemis, dearest Artemis, verily I would not have come so far, nor done as well as I have were it not for your company and counsel.” He reached for her to take her into his arms as they embrace.
For her part Artemis replied. “I should be very content in your company.”
And much to her surprise she discovered that she meant every word. In the back of her mind she thinks,
'We are traveling together, you and I, and if there is any power while this world shall last to make it so; we shall not be parted bliss or woe.’