The door to Artemis’ bedchamber creaked open, the hinges protesting after days of disuse. Apollo stepped inside, his eyes immediately drawn to his twin sister lying in the center of the room. She was a mess, her hair tangled and matted, her skin pale and clammy. He frowned, taking in the sight of the once-vibrant goddess reduced to this pitiful state.
“Artemis, what’s going on?” he asked, his voice gentle but firm. “You haven’t eaten or left this bed in days.”
Artemis groaned, her eyes cracking open to glare at him. “Stop acting like our mother, Apollo. Leave me be.”
Undeterred, Apollo moved closer to the bed, offering her a tray of ambrosia, the food of the gods. “Come on, Artemis. You need to eat something. You’re looking pale.”
Artemis turned her head away, her voice barely a whisper. “I have no appetite. I’m still processing.”
Apollo raised an eyebrow, his tone taking on a playful edge. “Processing? Or just wallowing in self-pity? You’re starting to smell like the great unwashed, you know.”
Artemis’ eyes snapped open, a flash of anger in her gaze. “At least I don’t need a mirror to know I’m beautiful.”
Apollo chuckled, unable to help himself. “True, but a little hygiene wouldn’t hurt.”
Artemis sighed, feeling a pang of guilt. As a goddess, she had a responsibility to her followers. She couldn’t just lie in bed and neglect herself. “Fine,” she muttered, sitting up slowly. “I’ll take a shower.”
Apollo grinned, relieved. “Good. I’ll draw you a bath.”
As Artemis soaked in the bath, Apollo brought her the tray of ambrosia. They talked about Orion, the mortal hunter she had fallen in love with, and the vow of chastity she had taken. Artemis had always been so sure of herself, so confident in her choices. But now, she was struggling to reconcile her feelings of guilt and sadness with her duties as a goddess.
Apollo listened intently, offering her a different perspective. “Artemis, you’re only human. It’s okay to make mistakes.”
Artemis looked at him, surprised. She had never thought of herself as human, always seeing herself as a goddess first and foremost. But Apollo’s words resonated with her, and she felt a weight lifted off her shoulders.
As they finished their meal, Artemis felt more like herself. She smiled, grateful for her brother’s support. “Thank you, Apollo. I don’t know what I would do without you.”
Apollo grinned, his eyes softening. “You’d manage, Artemis. You always do. But I’m glad I could be here for you.”
Together, they left the bedchamber, the door closing behind them with a soft click. Artemis was still processing, still grieving, but she was no longer alone. And for now, that was enough.
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