Athena's hands, stained red with Pallas' blood. Athena tried to stop the flow of it, pressing her hands against the wound, the sound of the crowd that had watched their stupid fight distant from her: it's almost like all the rushing he hears is her divine blood, drumming in her ears, instead of a collective gasp.
Pallas smiled weakly, put her hands on top of Athena's own, and moved them so gently that Athena barely felt it. She looked at her hands, red, bright red, and then at Pallas' brown eyes, the light fading from them.
"Stop, please." She rasped, a thin trickle of blood going from her mouth to her ears. "My greed is not your fault."
"Don't leave me." Athena begged, like a mortal, and Pallas rose one cold hand, touching her face. "Please. Pallas, please. I can't bear to be alone."
"This was predetermined, my love, my Athena." Pallas replied, with a smile, eyes still focused on Athena, but the struggle was there: with every breath she took, she fought to stay alive a moment longer. "If the gods have willed my death, who am I to do anything but die?"
"I am a god, I can..." Athena was a god, yes, but a young one: this was her first taste of death, and she already hated how bitter it felt on her tongue, how heavy the taste of iron was.
Pallas shook her head, a tiny, minimal movement. Athena struggled to not cry, tears burning in her eyes.
"Not even you, my love, can compete against the Fates. Let me go. Remember me. I don't dare ask for more than that, my Athena." Pallas' chest stopped moving, and Athena let out an anguished cry.
When Zeus, her father, the one who had, involuntarily, killed Pallas, approached her, he touched her shoulder, and Athena slapped his hand away, closing Pallas' eyes before gently putting her down.
Her once white clothes were stained red. Pallas, were not for the blood trickling out of her wound, could be asleep.
"Athena..." Zeus started, and she glared at him, cold like Khione's snow. As king of the gods, he did not shudder at her gaze, but Athena wished he had.
"Pallas Athena, father. That is my name. Let us go; I must assume my duties on Olympus. I've put them off for too long." She said, and he nodded. Athena went away, and did not look to Pallas' corpse, her childhood, and all the love she once carried in her heart, dead with her.
