(Untitled)

[untiedtheknots]

After leaving her wishes for the happy couple, Artemis takes a flask of not-to-be-wasted whiskey outside while she brainstorms on a more tangible gift for her dear cousin.

That was her plan, anyway.

But then she finds the blood on the grass, dried arcs and smears that tell the story of a fight between family. She crouches in the middle of it,

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[mycursedface]

When Medusa had vanished, she hadn't gone inside. Instead was a cage, instead was a temple splattered in her blood and echoing with screams and...

She couldn't.

She'd flown away, to the mountains and somewhere else, somewhere to try and think. But thinking wasn't happened, and now she was cold. Cold, cold, cold to the bone and inside was Lucifer and warm arms and warm magic, and inside his room she was safe and loved and-

Medusa swoops down and lands in a crouch.

"Artemis."

[untiedtheknots]

"Hey there."

She gestures at the blood with the flask. "Some of this yours?"

She makes it sound like a question, even though she knows the answer; there's only so many people whose blood smells like goddess and bird at the same time.

[mycursedface]

There was a stream, somewhere, to wash off the blood, but that pretty dress of hers is probably a write-off.

Not to mention the bruises.

"Most of it hers," she says, voice blank.

[untiedtheknots]

Medusa getting into a fight with somebody--a fight with a female somebody in the family--leaves only one option.

"I'm sure it is."

She holds out the flask. "The boys' whiskey. Want some?"