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flamieo20 · 3 days ago

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The Hunter - Chapter 5: A Solid Foundation

https://archiveofourown.org/works/64277836/chapters/172362310

The hunters take a much more leisurely pace on their way back to Greece, giving themselves a few months for a proper tour of the far west and all of its wonders. From long treks over snowcapped mountains to days of relaxation on the banks of the Mediterranean Sea, Artemis wanted to experience all that the land had to offer. Leading her group forward with excitement akin to a child discovering a new place to play. And Zoë could not have been more grateful. Each locale was breathtaking, blending together seamlessly as one tapestry, and yet fully unique in its own right. In just a few months, Zoë saw more of the world than she had in the 1000 years that she proceeded it. Would the adventure the hunters offered always bring such joy and excitement, even after a decade, a century, a millennium even, if she were to be so lucky? The thought was dizzying but soothed any lingering doubt in her mind that joining them had been the wrong decision. She had a feeling that, much like the hunters themselves, this feeling would never grow old.

The constant travel was made all the easier with Artemis’s blessing. It was a different kind of immortality than what Zoë was used to; she felt the march of time slow around her, but still kept the aches, pains, hungers, and needs of a mortal body. As if she was stuck halfway between a mortal and a god. It couldn’t compare to the true immortality Zoë had once taken for granted, but still it was enough. Enough stamina to keep up with the others and enough strength to string her bow each morning. Even if she was roughly half as capable as she was before her banishment, it was still more than she deserved.

Even so, she found herself lying awake some nights, staring at her hands. Or more accurately, the aura that now surrounded them. The light glow that now hung over her was not the golden hue that she was used to, one that complimented the warm tones of her skin, but a clashing silver. Forever a reminder that her new immortality was not innate but borrowed.

As for the hunters themselves, Zoë found them welcoming, in their own way. Beyond basic introductions and instructions, most of them didn’t speak to her much. Content to give their newest sister space as she adjusts, not wanting to overwhelm her with too much at once. Still, Zoë found many open spaces by the fire at each meal, an open invitation to join in whenever she would like. And, most importantly, when they did speak to her, they never pushed her for information, happy with only knowing her name, if that was all that she wished to share. A true clean slate.

They started off small, focused on teaching Zoë names, chore rotations, and camp maintenance. Each day, when they set out from camp, one of them would take her to the side and accompany her for the day. She’d explain what they were doing and why, often pointing out tracks and useful plants along the way. The basics. Zoë learned as much as she could, eager to contribute to the group that had already given her so much. And while she made slow progress with most of it, she found that gathering was almost second nature. She was already familiar with plants from her time spent as a Hesperid, so learning their properties came as naturally as learning how to manage them. A small victory, to be sure, but a welcome one.

After about a month, they added combat training. Her now permanent roommate Mira was more than happy to show her how to wield a pair hunting knives. To Zoë’s surprise, the bulky hunter was no demigod, but a nymph. One of sixty Oceanids hand selected by Zues to serve as Artemis’s attendants, and the only one of their number that remained. The centuries of experience, combined with her naturally strong physique, were a potent combination, making her a force to be reckoned with on the battlefield. Zoë could not have had a better instructor.

The first day was filled with caution, as Zoë was handed a set of wooden training knives and shown some simple forms and stances. Mira’s movements exaggerated as she taught Zoë everything from a proper grip to a few simple strikes. Wielding two blades was difficult to wrap her head around, but part of her was happy to hold any kind of blade in her hand again. Though they were each lighter than her precious sword had been, and didn’t fit so naturally in her hands, some of her experience carried through. The instinctive understanding of the distance of her blade and the best angles to use in combat.

Mira picked up on this immediately, smirking a bit as she increased the speed and strength of her attacks a little at a time. Testing to see how far she could push their newest recruit, stopping only when it was clear Zoë was at her limit. It was brutal and tiring work, as despite her increase in skill over time, each match between them ended the same way. With her body being thrown to the dirt. But for every loss, Mira would come up to her, hand outstretched, and ask if she was ready for another round. The friendly smile on her face soothed any pain or lingering frustration. An invitation to try again. One Zoë would take gladly.

If only all things could be so easy.

For with combat training came archery. Artemis approached Zoë one morning, proclaiming that her first hunt would be against the Great Red Boar of Delos, and asked her to follow. A few girls snickered at the prospect, but Zoë had no time to ask before arriving at the range. Once there, she saw it; a straw filled sack the size of her torso, with a large blotch of red across it, a child’s attempt at depicting a boar. The target was significantly weathered, riddled with holes and faded from the sun. It looked like it could fall to pieces at any moment. Artemis explained that the target was crafted by her and her brother, their first target as young archery gods on Delos. And while the pair certainly didn’t need to train, it had served them well as a practice target and served her hunters well in the centuries that followed. With a wave of her hand, she summoned a bow and quiver and handed them to Zoë. Her task was set; 100 shots in a row, all hitting the boar. Then, and only then, could she be trusted on a true hunt.

It seemed straight forward enough to Zoë, at the time, and she committed to it with the same dedication she had toward the rest of her training. But even with her best efforts, at the end of each day, she found herself lacking. It wasn’t for a lack of instruction. The goddess had shown her the proper form at the beginning of her training, and every day since at least one hunter had been attending to her. Helping her get this right. No, the problem was Zoë herself. Her body, though youthful in appearance, was older than Olympus itself, it simply didn’t want to learn something so new. The basis for archery was consistency, being able to replicate the exact same movements with precision, making every shot predictable. And yet, every time she held a bow in her hands it felt like the first time she had ever touched one. No matter the hours spent futilely sending arrows down range.

And while none of the other hunters had bothered her about it so far, she could tell that they were all surprised that it was taking her this long to learn the skill. A hunter that couldn’t hunt. It was a blow to her pride that she really didn’t need, as if she had not already been humbled enough.

Zoë’s only option was to give herself more time, committing herself fully to mastering the weapon. Each day, after dinner, she would ask Mira to cover for her, as she returned to the range and got in a few more rounds of practice. That’s what she told herself anyway. In reality, a few rounds often turned into a few rounds more and on and on until the sun was setting over the horizon, signifying her need to return to camp. It became part of her routine. She’d wake up and help with the disassembly of camp, be patiently instructed by whichever hunter was available during their daily hunt, help set up camp, rush through dinner, and spend the remaining hours of daylight at the range. If only to get out her frustration.

Tonight was no different, it seemed, as she fired another arrow at the target. This one sailing high over the top. Zoë let out a sign and reached into her quiver for another arrow, resigning herself to another evening spent with little to show for it. When suddenly, a voice disturbed her practice.

“You should be resting, Zoë.” Artemis said. Not quite scolding, but clearly displeased

Zoë jumped at the unexpected interruption but recovered quickly, masking it with a quick bow of her head to acknowledge the goddess. “Good evening my lady, I will be back at camp shortly, I only wish to get a few more rounds of practice in”. She went to nock the arrow when both it and her bow disappeared from her hands. Artemis unsummoning them for her.

“That was an order. You’ve been coming out here to practice for months now, and while I’ve tried to respect your wishes, this has gone on long enough. It does you no good to wear yourself out like this. You need rest.”

Zoë wanted to argue, but kept her mouth shut. This was her first private conversation with Artemis since her vows were taken, as the hunters tended to most of Zoë’s day to day needs. While she had seen hunters lightly push back on direct orders before, she was unsure where Artemis drew the line between acceptable disagreement and outright disrespect. A line Zoë would not dare risk crossing, even by mistake. So, instead of risking it, she looked away, her frustration with herself growing by the minute.

“You disagree?”

“I need to get this, my lady. That will serve me better than a night’s rest”

“And you will.” Artemis closed the gap between them, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder. “Your form is much improved already, but these things cannot be rushed. It will come to you in time, I promise. It could take you a century to master the bow, and none of us would mind.”

But I do. Zoë thought to herself, not wanting to speak her insecurity out loud.

There was a moment of silence between the two, before Artemis sighed. “If it means that much to you, I will personally assist your training tomorrow. Provided you get enough sleep tonight, of course.”

For the first time that evening, Zoë met her eyes. The look she found in those silver irises was all the confirmation she needed to know that her offer was serious. Zoë felt a bit of the tension she didn’t realize she was holding release, and bowed her head in a show of thanks, before following her back to camp. The target long forgotten behind them.

Artemis was true to her word, as she brought Zoë to the range as soon as camp was set up next evening. The goddess had shifted to appear a few years older than what she preferred, gaining a few inches of height on Zoë in the process. A form more suited for direction and instruction. When they arrived at the range, there was no target of any kind, no distractions, only a tall grass hill and the goddess beside her.

“You need to focus on building a solid foundation. The finer points of aiming can come later. Get into your stance, and I will guide you.”

Zoë did as she was told and prepared her shot, waiting for permission to fire as Artemis scrutinized her form. One hand moving Zoë’s closer to her face to properly set her anchor, while the other loosened her grip on the bow. Then, she moved behind her, placing hands on her shoulders, softly correcting her posture. When she was finished, she stepped back, ever so slightly, clearly pleased with the changes she’d made.

“There. Now relax, and let go”

Relaxation was difficult with an Olympian nearly breathing down her back, but she managed. Taking a deep breath, Zoë felt the string slip from her fingers. And for the first time since joining the hunt, the arrow flew true, embedding itself directly into the hillside in front of her.

“Better” Artemis hummed, settling on the grass beside her. “Do that again”

They continued practicing for hours. Artemis sometimes physically correcting her form, and sometimes lining up alongside her, mirroring Zoë’s mistakes so she could see exactly what she was doing wrong. But regardless of how she handled her instruction, her voice was free of judgement, focused only on helping her improve.

As they headed back to camp later that evening, Zoë wasn’t sure if she made much progress in archery. What could one day of training really accomplish, compared to the hundreds of days she had already had? But as she looked ahead to Artemis, the goddess who spent an entire evening instructing her, just to help sooth her injured pride, she smiled. Confident that she was building a solid foundation, in more ways than one.

#pjo #zoe nightshade #artemis pjo #hunters of artemis #zartemis #writing

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flamieo20 · 14 days ago

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The Warmth of Summer

On a perfect summer's day, Isobel treats Aylin to a few strawberries, as she thinks about their future together.

Written for full moon offerings 2025: strawberry moon, planting moon from @aylinisobel-week

https://archiveofourown.org/works/66460159

Isobel walked the main road out of Reithwin and into the countryside; basket in hand, and a hum on her lips, as she enjoyed the warmth of the summer. The flu season that had hit the town quite severely over the past season had finally ended, and she could not have been happier to see it go. The days spent in the clinic performing spells and blessing water until exhaustion were waning, giving way to ones of taking stock of elixirs and running errands in town, until she was done for today. It was lovely finishing up in the evening and still having plenty of daylight to enjoy, even if it meant less time spent under the moon. A bit strange for a cleric of Selûne to take such joy from longer days, but the sun was just another one of the moon maiden’s gifts, so Isobel made sure to appreciate it all the same.

As Isobel reached the farm she was looking for, she was reminded of another one of Selûne’s precious gifts.

Aylin was out in the field, skin flushed silver from heat and exertion, as she plowed the soil. Her normal attire was replaced by a worn-out set of pants and a blouse, both rolled up and exposing muscles that would normally be hidden. The clothes clung to her skin, damp from sweat, leaving little to the imagination, even in the covered areas. Isobel’s eyes wandered across her form, finally settling on her single visible scar, a small glimmer of gold on her neckline that shined gloriously in the sun. She followed it down her skin, until it vanished beneath the collar of Aylin’s blouse.

A gift from Selûne indeed.

It had been a year since Aylin was summoned to her little corner of Faerûn. Isobel remembers her angel landing on the steps of Moonrise Towers, covered fully in immaculate silver and blue armor, proclaiming her name and offering her service to every faithful Selûnite in Reithwin. Naturally, she started at the local temple, helping to repair damage done over the past few seasons. When that was complete, she moved to serve the people more personally, completing various odd jobs around town. Now in the summer, a few of the farmers requested her help with the fields, as their animals desperately needed a break from the heat. And Aylin, ever noble, agreed to help with no hesitation. Every bit the gallant angel that Isobel had fallen for at first sight.

Aylin finished off the last of her work, and glanced over, interrupting Isobel’s staring. She perked up immediately, flexing her muscles in a more tired version of her usual bravado, before sitting on a stool nearby and taking a swig of water from the pail beside her. Downing it in a few gulps. Isobel helped her out, uttering a quick cast of create water to refill it. Aylin gestured to her in a show of thanks, taking a few sips, before dumping the rest over her head.

Isobel had never felt more parched.

She cleared her throat as she approached, pulling the cloth off the top of her basket, revealing a collection of strawberries picked up from the market that morning. “I thought you could use a snack, what with all the hard work you’ve been doing lately”.

Aylin responded by ignoring the basket entirely, instead settling a hand around Isobel’s waist. Pulling her forward until the cleric was seated comfortably in her lap. The kiss that followed was longer than Isobel anticipated, given her love’s exhaustion, and she found herself nearly gasping for air by the end of it. When they pulled apart, Aylin’s eyes shined with newfound energy.

“Nothing could be as delectable as you, my love, but I appreciate your generosity.”

Isobel was certain her face was as red as the strawberries at this point but couldn’t be bothered to care. Aylin picked through the basket, selecting a handful and splitting it between them. She let out a pleased hum as she took her first bite. “These are delightful, well-chosen Isobel.”

“I thought you’d like it. They only come in a few weeks each year”

“A rare delicacy indeed.” Aylin said, as she finished off a few more. Eyes looking out into the fields she was tending. “I hope I stay here long enough to see the wheat come in. It would be nice to enjoy the fruits of my labor.”

“Do you think that you’ll have the chance?”

She shook her head. “It is difficult to say. Mother rarely communicates so clearly. Usually, I follow the calling of my heart and trust the Moon Maiden to guide my way. That it has called me here for so long is already most unusual.” Aylin’s arm tightened around her waist, pulling her in closer. “Perhaps it is a reward of sorts, a brief reprieve to enjoy the love I have found with my beloved, until I am sent out again”

Isobel sighed. The topic had come up a few times before, and it wasn’t one she was personally comfortable with. The fact that Aylin could be sent out of her life as quickly and unexpectedly as she arrived, hurt. The circumstance a bit too similar to her father’s gripes about her relationship with Aylin in the first place, concerns of his daughter being left behind as nothing more than a short fling. A rest stop on the eternal path her love would follow, one that would eventually be forgotten. Isobel knew Aylin loved her, she truly did, but if her mission called her elsewhere…what could she do.

But then, there was a shift in the wind, and an idea came to her that she hadn’t considered before. She smiled as the thought crossed her mind, wondering why it hadn’t occurred to her before.

“Could I come with you?”

Aylin stopped between bites. “That would not be safe for you, my love, Selûne often sends me into the very heart of danger, where none of her followers can dare tread”

“Then I imagine you would benefit greatly from an accomplished cleric by your side, to tend to your injuries as needed. And besides…” She wrapped her arms around Aylin’s neck, starting her right in the eyes. “I’d have you to protect me, right?”

“Always” Aylin said, her demeanor suddenly serious. “I would protect you to even my dying breath, were it possible my love. But still.” She gestured her arms out toward the countryside. “You would give up all of this, for my sake?”

And Isobel knew what she meant.

Reithwin was everything to her, every street and alleyway held a piece of her in it. Isobel could navigate the way to her favorite bakery blindfolded. Could still trace the pathway through town that her mother preferred, one that Isobel often followed, in her memory. The local temple was where she had first experienced the comfort of Selûne, a guiding light through her grief at her mother’s passing, and where she had completed all of the necessary rites to become a cleric. Each one attended by her father, his expression prouder that she had ever seen him. Reithwin had made Isobel who she was, was place she held status as a Thorm. And in return for it all, she spent most of her adult life healing its people.

But most importantly, it’s where she met Aylin, the lovely, beautiful, charming aasimar that fell from the sky and into her heart.

In the end, it wasn’t a difficult decision.

Isobel leaned in, lips ghosting over Aylin’s. “No, I would give up all of this for our sake”. The kiss that followed was far lighter than earlier, but more than enough to convince Aylin she meant it.

When she pulled back, Aylin seemed dazed, as if unused to such an open declaration of love. But as always, she recovered quickly, picking up the basket and smiling. “You know, Isobel, these would pair perfectly with the cake they sell at Last Light Inn, if you would allow me to repay your generosity tonight.”

“Always”. And she truly meant it.

For in that moment, Isobel knew that there was nowhere Aylin could go that she wouldn’t follow.

#dame aylin #isobel thorm #fullmoonofferings2025 #bg3 #aylin x isobel #writing

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