Chapter Text
When her voice was hoarse from crying, and her head pounded like a thunderstorm from confusion and there was nothing but cold ashes where her rage should be, when even sleep wouldn't come to her, Artemis took the train out of Olympus proper and went to see Athena.
It was a simple house outside the city, build the old way in stone and wood and plaster. Behind an arched gate, the central courtyard held a bench, and a small ancient olive tree that still bore fruit, and a fountain with sweet water spilling endlessly over the lip of an alabaster jar. She stood at the door and did nothing, listless and afraid, until it swung open from the inside where there was a welcoming golden light, and the smell of warm wood, and silvery Athena.
"Come in and tell me about it," she said to the younger Goddess, and they went inside and closed the door.
***
With brisk but kind efficiency Athena put a blanket over Artemis' shoulders and sat her down on a padded bench. Artemis promptly slumped over sideways and drew her legs up, curling tightly into the blanket, staring into the middle distance. Athena sighed, and pulled a stool over to sit nearby.
"Are you hurt? Physically?" she asked.
Artemis shook her head.
"No... but your heart is hurt," Athena murmured, and stroked Artemis' hair with a gentle hand. Artemis leaned into the touch with a teary sigh.
"I failed," she wavered. "I betrayed my best friend in the whole world. I'm a failure and a traitor. I'm EVIL. DOUBLE EVIL."
"I've seen evil, Artemis, and you aren't it. Just breathe for a minute; I'm going to make us a little meal, and then you're going to tell me exactly what happened, and we'll figure it out together."
***
They ate quietly. Brined feta and little roasted fishes, olives, soft flat bread, and a little honey-sweetened wine to drink; during which meal Artemis slowly seemed to awaken from her fog of grief. Athena saw, and said nothing, but approved.
Once the dishes were rinsed and stacked for later washing, Athena led Artemis into another, larger room; a long wide space, one side dominated by a tall wooden loom, the other unfurnished but with weapons racks along the walls. She sat down at the loom, and pulled a seat close for Artemis. "I'll work," she said, "and you talk."
Slowly the loom began its rhythmic song. The shuttle sliding smoothly back and forth, the soft creak of the treadle. Athena listened to this hypnotic heartbeat sound, and waited patiently.
And eventually Artemis spoke.
"I thought... my friend... lied to me about something. Something really bad. Something TERRIBLE," she said, intensity twisting her face. "Something IMPOSSIBLE. And... I lost my temper... and I threw her out."
Tears began to well again, but now the flood had started, and there was no stopping it.
"And then I found... oh Fates..." Her eyes screwed shut, her head bowed. "I found proof. Of what she said. She didn't lie at all. She was HURT! She was... she was BROKEN and I... I just couldn't believe he would..."
"Shhh," Athena told her, without pause in her weaving. "Breathe for a moment. Watch the shuttle going back and forth... back and forth. Watch the cloth growing, thread by thread. That's right. That's better. Now tell me."
Artemis breathed, and watched, and after a moment a calm of surrender fell over her. "Gods, it hurts so much to say it," she sighed. "And worst of all, I'm here complaining about it while SHE'S the one who's really hurt! I can't get past myself enough to go to her when she needs me. She needs SOMEBODY and I don't know if she has ANYBODY. I don't know if anyone else can believe her when I couldn't... Athena... "
"Be brave, sister," Athena said softly. "It has to come out. It is like a festering wound. You HAVE to start somewhere."
"I couldn't believe my own brother raped Persephone," Artemis said, and burst into tears again.
And the shuttle snapped in two in Athena's hand.