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Artemis had always been a wanderer.
From the first moment she’d set her tiny feet on the ground, she’d wanted to run from her grandmother’s arms and explore the world she was finally a part of. She hadn’t, of course, because her silly little brother had been taking his sweet time with being born, and after everything she’d heard from the womb, she wasn’t about to leave him or her mother alone. Not until she was sure they were safe.
But once things had settled, she’d spent those days on Delos running around under the stars, never in one place for very long. Apollo had followed her more often than not, but he’d been much more content with staying at the house by their mother’s side than she was. She could hardly stay in for an hour before she started getting restless.
The first thing she’d asked from her father was to let her spend her time hunting down on earth, rather than keeping her stuck up on Olympus. As wonderful as it all seemed, she hadn’t been able to stand the thought of never being anywhere else.
Delos had stopped drifting when Apollo was born, after all. It hadn’t settled down for Artemis. Staying in one place had never been her fate. Wandering was what she was meant for.
Still- she supposed there was something to be said about having a home to come back to. Somewhere safe to land.
Artemis stood in the doorway of the Waystation’s kitchen, a small smile on her face she was unable to fight at the ridiculously domestic scene.
There was loud, upbeat music playing, Apollo dancing around while he dried the dishes that Lit was washing. Jo and Emmie were looking over some blueprints spread out on the table, while Georgie sat beside them, coloring. Leo was helping Calypso with some sort of video game, the two of them sitting together in the breakfast nook.
“Always the observer, aren’t you, my lady.”
Artemis didn’t turn her head as Britomartis stepped up beside her. “I’m a hunter. Observing is part of that, which I know you know.”
Brit laughed. “Sure, sure. But I also know you know that this isn’t the hunt. You can be a part of it, too.”
She didn’t wait for Artemis to answer, skipping off to talk to Emmie and Jo.
As she sat, Georgie set down her crayons and stood. Small feet pitter-pattered on the floor as she ran up to Artemis.
She had a piece of paper held to her chest, a nervous sparkle in her eyes. “For you,” she said, shoving it at Artemis before dashing back to her mothers.
It was a drawing of Artemis, standing on what she was pretty sure was meant to be the surface of the moon. The background was black, scattered with star stickers, and a blue and green circle that was probably the earth. Next to the stick-figure Artemis was a cheerful yellow rocketship, with a sun sticker on the front and another stick-figure peering out from the window that she thought might be Apollo.
Artemis would have to find somewhere to hang it up. She sent Georgie a smile, and the girl ducked her head shyly into her sticker sheets.
She took in the scene again.
The dishes had been finished, and Apollo had dragged Lit into dancing around the kitchen with him. Calypso had gotten really into the game Leo had shown her, and he was cheering her on while watching her play. Georgie had started another picture, and Brit was swinging her braid around while she helped Emmie and Jo with their blueprints.
If Artemis had a home, it was her hunters. It was Apollo. It was Leto and Phoebe and the rest of their family. Her home had always been the people, not the place. She loved the Waystation because of the people in it.
She leaned against the wall, studying the drawings pinned to the fridge, all done in the same style as the one in her hand.
She could admit she liked having somewhere safe to land, if only for a moment before she took off again.