A God's Mercy (Apollo x OC)

Chapter 1

Eos, the Great titaness of the dawn, was masterful in her work. Today, her rose tinted fingertips seemed to caress the mountains of Attica with the greatest tenderness. As was Apollo, the Great Phoebus, who joined Eos in her dance to create a most resplendent sunrise. He rose slowly, majestically, curled in a great orb of amber gold. Iris weaved her way between them, as the sky seemed very much like a rainbow of magnificent blues, reds, oranges, purples, and pinks. Perhaps that was because today was a most auspicious occasion.

In the great polis of Athens, the Festival of Artemis Brauronia came only once every 5 years. Melantriche was so happy she'd lived long enough to be apart of it yet again. It had been the most joyous time of her life, so she could hardly sleep the night before.

The festival of Brauronia was a very special tradition for Athenian women. It was customary that the free girls between 5 and 10 be brought to participate, so that they would be blessed with Artemis' protection until they were wed. It was a very rare treat that the women of Athens be allowed out of their homes, so Melantriche remembered every second of it. She even had one of the slaves bring her her old costume: a bear skin and a saffron robe. She rubbed the fur in between her thumb and forefinger, a small smile gracing her white features.

It was said that the festival had been started by the daughter of King Agamemnon, Iphigeneia. Agamemnon had earned the ire of Artemis by killing one of her beloved bears. As such, she cursed the Spartan winds to be as still as the Styx's breath. To calm her anger, Agamemnon resolved to sacrifice Iphigeneia for good sailing during the Great Trojan War. Due to the kind Artemis' good grace, the maiden was saved by being replaced with a slave instead. Iphigeneia wandered into the arms of the Tauri people, where she repaid her debt to Artemis by becoming her priestess. The temple that Iphigenia had built up became Brauron. At least, that was a version Melantriche thought was right.

The bear skin was to honor Artemis, and her title as "The Great She-Bear". The saffron robe was to pay homage to the bears themselves, and the she-bears who cast their own robes down for their goddess. Women who had successfully borne healthy children were to offer their garments to Artemis, while ones who died in childbirth or had reared undesirable children would take their garments to the stele of Iphigeneia. But Melantriche still had hers. Though she was already 13, she had not had any children yet, let alone been married.

The first time Melantriche had been to the festival she was 8, and it had been her birthday. Her father, a prominent member of the Athenian council, spared no expense in buying her the finest furs and wools that money could buy. Verily, her chiton seemed like a river of molten gold, soft to the touch when she slid her finger across it. And the bearskin was something she could've slept in all her life. It was thick and soft, large enough to fit her even now. It was a lovely cherry wood color, and it had been perfumed to smell like mountain roses. She had been so happy then, she kissed her father's face all over and thanked him with all her heart.

The women would sing, dance, run races, give offerings and prayers, and so forth. That year, Melantriche had offered her most prized possession: a figurine of a young stag that her father had given her as a birthday present that same day. It was so elegantly crafted: it was molten entirely out of solid silver and it's eyes were made of little emeralds. She would have liked to keep it forever, but her devotion to Artemis was more. The way she saw it, it was no mere coincidence that her birthday was the same day the Festival of Brauronia.

The sound of a door opening abruptly surprised her from her thoughts. She looked away from the window to see Lyra, her slave. She held a towel in her hand, and she bowed respectfully.

"Lady is up early."

Melantriche grinned happily. "I couldn't help it."

"To rise with Lord Apollo is good thing, Lady." She raised her head, her short sandy hair bobbing slightly. There was a certain playfulness in the woman's gray-blue eyes. Lyra has been Melantriche's as long as she could remember. She was 5 years older and she often looked after Melantriche in her childhood. Melantriche was fond of her. She was good-hearted and she liked her jokes.

"Shall you be wanting to get ready now?"

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Stuff. Hi. I'm tired. Criticism's welcome, hope you enjoyed this boring ass lesson about how Greek festivals go. By the by, just reminding that I'm not being pedophilic, just trying to be accurate in my descriptions. Girls really were getting married at like 10 years old back then if any of you didn't know.