"We were together. I forget the rest." Walt Whitman

Lightly, lightly. Steady breaths.

Heel to toe, heel to toe.

It's strange, needing to exercise. Regular physical exertion is nothing unfamiliar, of course it's not. Though her endurance is (understandably) far less than what it once was. Thankfully, her strength is more than sufficient for even a … bad day, if necessary. She just can't, say, fight continuously for a few days anymore. Or, in that regard, go without sleep whatsoever anymore.

Artemis has already pulled off a few all-nighters, even consecutively - but it's very unpleasant. She hadn't realized she needed to sleep at first until she'd conked out in the middle of a forest.

Much like she'd later gone without any exercise for two weeks, and then she'd noticed her body getting out of shape.

That had surprised her, actually frightened her. As a goddess, she did occasionally sleep. Very rarely, perhaps, and in a context mortals would fail to comprehend, but she had experienced sleep. Even restrooms and menstruation, however embarassing, were immediately intuitive. Yet gaining weight, visibly getting fatter and affecting her athleticism?

Artemis had panicked for well over a day until she realized what the problem. Honestly, given the overweight nature of the mortals that surrounded her, and the sheer amount of gyms, sports venues, and bikers and joggers, she maybe should've known the issue and solution sooner.

It was a little inconvenient to need to exercise to stay fit, and not be able to go on stretches of time to remain healthy and look as she wished. She'd known her corporeal form would be locked when she became mortal, and adjusted accordingly. She understands that time and age will cause changes, and she believes she can handle that. Artemis just never considered the factor of maintaining her appearance, or her body's condition.

Sure, she's probably equivalent to a very powerful demigod at this point, having a great metabolism and literally a god's amount of experience. Great "natural" gifts, with her being unlikely to get sick as long as she remains physically fit.

Artemis just never needed to work for that. It's not that it's hard to, or that she doesn't do so in her usual activities. She enjoys physical exertion on a normal basis, obviously. As a goddess, as of now, she can't resist going out for a dash through nature.

But other things did take precedence sometimes. Things like recovering items from several dead drops. Or relocating bolt holes. Or establishing a proper identity. All uneventful but necessary things she needs to sacrifice her "exercise" time for.

She's honestly underestimated the sheer tedium of some of the things she's had to do, but at least most of it is out of the way. Moving possessions around is a pain without the ability to teleport anywhere she wishes. So many minor trivialities that just get in the way.

At least she had a magical bag to move everything at once. Having very few possessions also helps - few worthwhile possessions, at least. Beyond all the stashes of weapons she needs to collect, there's only a few dozen sets of clothing and books.

Really, she'd have gone out jogging earlier. But a thick fog had swallowed the city, and sure, the winter winds only just cleared that mess out. But the fogs wouldn't keep her from going out and about - in fact, she enjoys the environment change even more. It's just that had been the perfect time to sneak onto Olympus for her last (for lack of a better word) re-acquisitions trip.

Clearing her head out with some jogging after that little adventure is a treat.

The adventure itself, though … the sheer blast of adrenaline from infiltrating her former home was exhilarating. The thrill of danger and excitement, the palpable risk of discovery now that she's mortal - oh, wow. Sneaking around was both unexpectedly and expectedly easy, to be quite honest, but none of that had negated the absolute rush of the occasion.

All it took was some silver clothing, and no one question her. The floor security "guard" let her up after she said "Hunter business," and after that she had free reign. Besides a few actual Hunters milling about her palace that she ducked around, Artemis had an easy time retrieving all the belongings she still wanted. Between all the magical clothing, enchanted weaponry, and a whole library, and too much ambrosia and nectar (for first aid reasons - she can't indulge anymore), she'd managed to retrieve quite a lot. Things were made a bit simpler by those preparing for or even already celebrating the solstice, but she'd essentially just walked in and walked out.

Frankly, though, there were a lot more silver clothed females around than she last remembered. And there were none that she recognized, save one.

Thalia looked a bit stressed, a bit busy. Her former lieutenant was dealing with things left and right, directing Hunter after Hunter to do one thing or another.

Artemis wishes her good fortune. Thalia doesn't need it, Artemis is confident she knows what she's doing. But it doesn't hurt.

With that, Artemis pushes all thoughts of her no longer relevant past out of her mind.

No point dwelling on things from the past any more than absolutely necessary. There is nothing she can change about it - she will mourn what she has mourned, and she will wonder what she can wonder, but she will not regret.

She's regret enough. Time is too short to bother with regret now.

Hm. There's a hint of death and dog fur, and just the slightest rustling. Not breaking her stride in the least, Artemis pulls an arrow from her leggings pocket with her right hand, then nocks it on a hair tie around her left wrist. Yanking sharply, the tie snaps, and a bow forms from the break. She rolls her hand and fixes her grip, then launches the arrow off into the foliage with nary a glance.

A low whine reaches her ears, and the beast flees through the shadows.

Damn. The kill shot should've been easy, but she'd screwed up the fletching of her arrow severely while pulling it from her pocket. Artemis needs to practice drawing from it more.

A magical quiver that could be inserted into a pocket is good for incognito purposes, and there had been a few here and there. They weren't as accessible as a standard quiver, though. Even a hip quiver was more convenient for hunting. But in the midst of a metropolitan city? Artemis can't pull arrows out of light anymore, not without exhausting herself after a dozen. Pocket quiver it was.

Another task for the to-do list, then. Something for another time. For now … Artemis relaxes her hand, opening her palm, and the bow shrinks back around her pale wrist. She stops abruptly without a sound, all forward movement instantly seizing.

Every single one of her runs in Central Park always end up here. Here, by the reservoir, no matter what path she takes, her feet carry her to the false lake. And judging by the current trend, she'll stand here for a few minutes, hoping to see Percy pop out of the water and greet her.

Maybe he'll actually be here today. Maybe he'll ditch the solstice again. Maybe he's waiting, hoping to see her too …

A girl can dream.

Artemis leans against a maple tree, (dis)content to wait longer today. It's a bit cold - her silver tee doesn't cover her forearms, so she rubs them absently. Nothing she can't tolerate … she'll get something to warm herself up later. For now, she watches the icy waters lap against the shore, wondering when she'll be ready to hunt him down.

It should be soon. Artemis is certain Percy is home for the holidays. She has around two and a half weeks before the New Rome College starts again.

After the New Year, Artemis decides. She still needs to get things in order first.

Rumination complete, she climbs up the maple to retrieve the satchel she'd hidden there before her run, ambles her way out of the park, humming vacantly. Time is finite, yes - so she savors her walk, and the view of the subdued city. She may prefer vivid constellations and clear air, but she can appreciate the muted lights of a quieted New York City.

Sure, it never sleeps, but it's definitely more somber at nighttime in the right places.

Artemis enjoys the cooldown stroll from her two hour jog, satisfied to spend another hour getting to her next destination. She ruffles through her bag, on a routine check to ensure everything is inside. Weapons, first aid, snacks, water … she pulls out the plastic bottle for a quick draft.

Needing to staying hydrated is a pain in the ass, too, but nothing worth getting into. Immortals drank for pleasure, not necessity. Apparently, beyond feeling thirsty, not drinking water for three days killed mortals. Go figure.

Anyways. Her destination. If she has to drink, she wants it to taste good, at least. Enough water for health, then something tasty for everything else. It's only a quaint little coffee shop, but out of all the ones near the apartment she's holed up in at the moment, it's her favorite. There's just something about coffee that calls just like nature does - though maybe she wants hot cocoa today.

Also, knowing the true mythology behind the shop name just tickles her every time she sees the lettering above the entrance. Sometimes she can only marvel at just how deeply her ancient culture influences modern day mortals, outside of the more … direct scenarios, like Typhon.

Even with the Mist, Artemis will never comprehend how mortals rationalized a new lake forming in rural West Virginia.

It's with this distracted thought in her head when she crashes into someone trying to leave the very establishment she's trying to enter.

"Schist - sorry about that, miss, gotta go." The boy stabilizes whatever he's holding, sparing only half a glance at her, and then he's already walking away.

Damn inconsiderate New Yorkers - if she could still polymorph people - Artemis seizes the swinging door, and the tingling entry chimes settle.

Wait. Schist?

Fuck.

Slamming the door shut, she turns around, already in motion to bolt off in the direction the person was heading -

Just to crash once again into the exact same person. This time they knock each other to the pavement, and the drinks the boy had been holding along with them.

Artemis gets to her feet, while he scrambles to salvage the cardboard drink carrier before all the drinks it holds spill. "Gods darnit! Friggin-"

"Percy?" She asks hesitantly, hand outstretched to help him up, even though she knows it's him.

And then the Son of the Sea (because it is him, it's definitely him) gives up on the drinks, letting them drain away, in favor of staring up at Artemis as if he's not sure his eyes are working right.

She can't help but smile, seeing him again, as dumbfounded as he looks crouching on the ground. No drink will warm her up more than whatever feeling growing within her right now.

He stands, not taking her hand, eyes still staring, wide and confused. "Lun- Artemis- I saw- thought it was you but- what- why-?"

She opens her mouth to respond, but words fail her - she knows whatever that will come out will be equally incomprehensible. Screw it.

She dashes in, wrapping her arms around him, pressing into the demigod as if she's trying to meld their bodies into one. And her smile widens, the warmth blossoms as he reciprocates, almost twirling her around as he redirects her sudden momentum. So many fears silenced by a single gesture.

Her skin prickles under the gaze of other mortals around them, but the feeling disappears quickly.

New York is a strange place.

Artemis doesn't know how much longer they just hold each other, standing in a puddle of coffee and hot chocolate. It must be a few minutes, but eventually Percy eases away, arms gradually pulling away. Artemis acquiesces, and then they're apart, Percy's sea-green eyes staring into hers as he gently holds her by the shoulders.

And she can't help but crack a smile again, watching him repeatedly open his mouth to ask a question, but no sound come out as he reconsiders and shuts his mouth again.

"Here." Artemis's amusement softens, deciding to pull him out of his predicament. "How about I explain everything inside?"

She pulls open the door, waiting patiently as Percy swiftly picks up the wasted drinks and throws them away. A snappy text to someone (probably his mother) and a thank you later, they're sitting in the warmly hued cafe, regarding each other over the menus on the booth table.

It somehow always ends up like this, doesn't it. But seeing him, dressed as casually as ever and a black jacket more, just taking him in … it's nice.

Music permeates the background atmosphere of the restaurant, quiet yet lively: … Fill my heart with song - and let me sing, for-ever more …

The waiter arriving breaks their impasse. "A hot cocoa, please," orders Artemis.

"Same thing," adds Percy, and the waiter nods and leaves.

"So." Artemis can't stop smiling, even if it's just a crooked curve at the corner of her lips. Some things are just too familiar. "Simplify things for me, tell me what you already know so I can fill in the rest."

If he's discomfited by her being so at ease, it doesn't show. "Rumor has it that you've faded. Thalia announced to Zeus that you've left everything to her just a few hours ago, and that she's to take your place. She mentioned having some note to me personally when I asked her about it after the main bit, before I left." He's being cautious, wary. But he's open to talk, and that's all she needs. "Otherwise … nothing. You just disappeared. Again. But why are you here - why now? Why - why this again?"

"Because things are different now," Artemis answers earnestly. "Because - because if," and she hesitates, hoping that all she's done isn't for nothing, "if you still have any interest in something between us, I want to take that chance. I-"

Percy sighs. "Didn't - wasn't I clear? It's not any easier for me, y'know? Frick, no, I'm definitely not over it, but it's not right if-"

And then there's her knife in her hands, handle held in her right and blade easing into the flesh of her left, sanguine life-blood weeping onto the table. Percy stares, even more stunned than before.

The waiter arrives with their refreshments then leaves, apparently not giving a single shit about the girl cutting herself in open view. Maybe the Mist is hiding things from view, maybe Artemis really did hear him mutter "I'm not paid enough for this crap" under his breath.

Ignoring her stinging palm, she snabs a napkin from a dispenser to wipe the silver blade clean, before sheathing it. Then, she pulls a bandage from her satchel (easy outside access for all the right reasons) and expertly wraps it tight around her wound.

"Anything else?" asks Artemis sweetly, smugly, nabbing her drink in and taking in a deep breath. Somehow, since she became mortal, every smell is so much the sweeter. She blows at the smoke, smiling at the twirls, then sets it down to uses another napkin to clean away her blood before it congeals. Finally, she looks back to Percy - but he's still staring at the table, at a loss for words.

Not thinking of anything she can say at the moment, she sips at her drink. Damn - if nothing else, Artemis is glad Western civilization acquired chocolate. What was it, a Central American creation, globalized only a few centuries ago? Mortals really innovated some of the strangest yet best things.

Finally, Percy speaks. "You're mortal now? Schist, I heard some people talk about Apollo … why?"

Artemis shakes her head. Sometimes he surprises her, sometimes he says the stupidest things. "Why else, silly? Because of you."

"But what about the Hunt?!" protests Percy, gesticulating wildly. "What about Olympus, what about dying? I don't want you to die because of me! N-"

The former goddess seizes one of his hands, slamming it down onto the table. "Stop being stupid, Percy, it's unbecoming of you. Stop, calm down, drink your hot chocolate before it loses all its heat."

Staring into his jittery eyes, she carefully lets him go. Artemis watches as he takes a deep breath, following her instructions, and bringing his drink to his mouth.

"Frick!" Percy shoves the drink back onto the table and half covers his mouth.

Artemis giggles at his clumsiness. "Perseus, really?" She leans back in her bench, enjoying his mock glare. "I shouldn't have to tell you to be cautious."

He sighs, slouching and ruffling his hair. After a few more seconds, he takes up the cup again and blows on it, then finally drinks. In that moment, Artemis speaks.

"I didn't make my choice lightly, my dear Perseus. Thalia will be a fine leader for the Hunt, if she can undertake the burden of immortality." She smirks, reflecting on earlier conversations. "You would know about all that, wouldn't you. If she can't, I'm sure she can pick a good replacement. But I'm done with the Hunt. I've-" Artemis laughs outright, probably throwing off Percy a little. "Oh, I never considered it this way. How ironic. I've grown out of being immature. Goddess as I was, honest in intention but nonetheless naive, I began the Hunt. And goddess as I was, I reflected humanity - forever flawed, learning so much but so little over the millennia …"

She takes another draft, relishing the heady flavor. Pleased that Percy chooses not to talk but wait, respecting her and just listening. She settles into a comfortable position, drink in one hand and the other on the table, before continuing. "Olympus will be fine. Humanity has held steadfast, and as long as mortals live, I have little doubt that the gods will live on too. Heroes have proven that well enough to me, time and time again." She waggles her eyebrows at Percy suggestively, and beams at his blush.

"And if you worry of interference from them, the Ancient Laws forbid it, now more than ever." After his questioning glance, she continues. "Immortals cannot directly attack anyone beyond their purview, only retaliate. They cannot interfere with mortals without whim - so I'm safe."

"And of death - well-" Artemis blinks in surprise when Percy reaches out to clasp her hand, then beams again, paradoxically in broken but glorious acceptance. "To end, to rest. To resolve is a gift. Haven't you said that yourself? Is it so selfish of me to seek that too, or is it so selfish of you to say that I shouldn't? Don't misunderstand me - I don't intend to die anytime soon. The idea of a future, of times to come, as a mortal is so intoxicating."

She pauses, making sure what she says next is right. "The idea of a future with you is intoxicating."

Judging by his sharp intake of breath, she thinks it is. Her eyes are now looking anywhere but at him, and Artemis is almost glad that she's nervous. She's glad that she feels alive. "You were right, you are right. If I couldn't be in love wi- if I couldn't love you forever, then it wasn't enough. And I think I could have - the millennia makes things hard, but I would have given it my all. But you wouldn't be there for it. You would not extend your own life, not with your love for your mother and sister so obvious, not with how much you've fought for, sacrificed for what could construe as a normal life."

"So. Inspired by your idiocy, I chose the foolish "third" option." She outright chuckles at his affronted look. "You'd already taken away the first option from the dilemma, forcing both of us into the second. But now I say fuck you, I do things my way." And her humor fades, and all that's left is the desperate dreams of a woman in love.

"And now I'm here, hoping you will still return my affections. That you're at least willing to try, even though I don't know why you would, after all that I've made you go through. Even though I don't know why you ever loved me to begin with, with how estranged our relationship essentially always was. First half a year of sporadic conversations, and then half a year of basically nothing at all …"

She looks down at their joined hands, the connection between them.

She smiles with all the hope she will ever muster, with the understanding of everything that could go wrong, and in dead resolution to take it if it came, and not hate Percy if it happened because she could understand why if it happened. She smiles with the best of nihilism, never to regret because she tried her very best, and will go down that path less taken to the very end. Because her love won't change either way, only hurt a little more. "So I understand if nothing comes of this. If you think that I've lost my immortality for nothing."

Artemis smiles radiantly, brighter than the moon will ever shine. "But no. Fuck that. Because if nothing else, it was worth being able to come here and tell you that I love you."

She downs her drink and wipes her mouth, then takes his hand in both of hers. She leans forward, finally able to meet his the sea-green depths eyes with emotions welling up behind her own silver irises, and whispers. "I love you."

And then she lowers her head and her lips meet the back of his hand, not kissing but resting there. After the moment passes, she draws back, looking down at their hands once more. She holds on loosely, giving him the agency to pull away.

Oh, sweet release. Sweet catharsis, sweet vacancy, ready to be crushed or made brilliant.

And pull back he does.

But before her smile can fall, his other hand is caressing her cheek, and she looks up, and he's there, and then they're kissing.

The world suddenly feels a lot smaller. The kiss lacks passion … and fittingly so. It's not the moment for the burning vivaciousness of life. But the companionate part is there for all to witness.

Then it's over, short and sweet, but meaning all of the universe.

"If - if that didn't answer your question …" Percy trails off, fiddling with something under the table. His sudden bashfulness, however unexpected, is also surprisingly cute. But what was he doing?

Without no celebration whatsoever, he presents a bracelet. It's elegant in its simplicity, silver twine threaded through a dozen plus pieces of sea glass, colors ranging from all the hues of the ocean, pale white to foam blue to rich indigo to a muted teal to …

It's gorgeous.

"Is that for me?" Artemis breathes.

She can't move, shocked as she is, as Percy takes her left hand and slips it on, where it slides to rest next to her hair tie. Artemis raises her arm, turning it back and forth as she stares at the symphony, no, the aurora of hues that adorns her porcelain skin.

Distracted as she is, Percy finds her other hand and begins to rub circles into the back of her hand. "I've been working on it for since April," he admits. "I might've gone overboard, but even after the Summer Solstice and August I couldn't keep from adding to it. I've been wearing it, it mostly just became a keepsake because … y'know. But you're here. And it's yours."

"Thank you!" Artemis rushes out of her booth seat and into his, embracing him for all it's worth. She delights the warmth radiating from him, and the warmth spreading from her own core. She smiles into his jacket. "I take it your answer is a yes."

"No," Percy nuzzles at her hair. "My answer is an 'I love you too.'"

So they sit for some time, undeniably content in their cuddle. His arms are so cozy that she falls into a doze, because he's too careful not to jostle her while finishing his own hot chocolate.

Artemis is roused immediately though, when he pays the bill, another two drinks in a carrier ready to go on the table. "It's midnight," he says. "We should go."

She slips on her satchel and latches onto his side, following him absentmindedly as he guides her out of the cafe and onto the street, too busy wondering what happens next. They stand, taking in the night air.

"We have a lot more we need to talk about," he begins, "if this is going to work out."

She sighs in agreement, letting go of his arm, prepared for him to depart. "But not tonight."

Percy nods. "Not tonight. Not the best thing to do so late and tired, and I promised my Mom I would bring back the drinks soon. My home is a few blocks to the left … where do you stay?"

"In fact, only a block over that same direction." Artemis replies, surprised.

"Then shall I escort you?" Percy smiles, offering his arm.

She takes it, and they begin their walk. It's far too slow to be a walk, but she's hardly going to bring that up, and she doubts he would either.

"Like, that's definitely something you're going to have to explain to me. How in heck did you find an open apartment in NYC?" Percy jokes.

"Offering to overpay for a pretty small place may be how," answers Artemis. "But why have you softened your language?"

"Softened? Oh!" Artemis turns, sure to catch him blushing. "I'm practicing to make sure I don't drop the f-bomb or something around Daphne."

"A noble undertaking." She says seriously, before both of them dissolve into chuckles.

They're already nearly there. "I'm staying just here, actually."

And after a brief glance to where Artemis gestured, Percy hums in response before pulling away to face her. Not that she's accepting that - she draws in close, locking her hands at his waist. And when he mirrors her action, she lowers her head, until their foreheads meet.

"Schist, there's so much we need to talk frickin' about," mutters Percy, and Artemis can't help but laugh once again.

"Just think of it as your next adventure - just without all the life-threatening battles," jests Artemis. But when Percy doesn't laugh in return, Artemis reaches up to caress his cheek. "Hey, hey - I know. I think I understand.

"And yes, we do need to talk. I know there's going to be a lot we need to sort out, and I'm still fixing up a bunch of my own matters at the moment. But if your love is as honest, as total as mine - no, because it's as honest and total as mine, I'm sure things will work. We can adapt."

Percy, oddly, finds some humor in that.

"What's so funny?" Artemis asks, frowning.

"I guess gods can change," he answers, chuckling.

How profound. She rolls her eyes. Though … "It's not like I'm immortal anymore, silly."

Then they fall silent and brooding. The only warmth left besides their bodies is the drinks Percy carries, and it's fading.

"I'm just worried - like, what happens when I get back to New Rome for college in a few weeks?" The worry in his voice is far too raw for her liking.

"Well, is it too late for me to apply?"

"Maybe not." The relief in his voice is audible. "I- I should really go, though. How, when do you wanna meet up again?"

Hm … she can spare her matters for another time. "How about you just come here tomorrow morning and we spend the entire day together?"

After a moment of consideration, he answers. "I … think I could do that, yes."

"All day to talk, just as you wanted."

"Oh, Moonbeam, I want to talk with you for a whole lot longer than just one day."

This time, she the one to blush at what he's implying. "You know I'm not the goddess of the moon anymore, Percy."

"Luna." Percy swoops in for a deep kiss, and Artemis closes her eyes, trying to commit this moment to memory forever. "Artemis." Another kiss, more intense than before. "Moonbeam." One last kiss, quick and lingering.

"You will always be the moon to me. Here I am, the tides - and there you shine, pulling me to you. That's … that's life."

Artemis smiles softly in agreement, fingering her new bracelet. "C'est la vie."

It's not a myth believed by many. It is simultaneously too amazing and too understated, too much and too little to believe as truth. An event that surely had to be have been far more grand to ever have happened, compared to what is said to have transpired. But the simple version is the only one ever told nonetheless. The simplicity is what makes it special.

A man finds a goddess grieving, and reassures her. The goddess finds the man mourning, and comforts him. And then they fall in love - a consummate love, that to them, lasts forever and a day.

It is the story of how a goddess achieved mortality.