Chapter Text
In the dawn of days, when the world was young and ripe for the taking, humans were created whole. They were made from contrasting halves, four arms and four legs. Zeus feared their power and split them in two. This was his solution, for then the humans would spend their lives searching for their other half from whom they were separated, rather than attempt to overthrow the gods.
The plan did not come to fruition exactly as he intended. While most humans followed his design, some strayed. Some were fated to not be split from another mortal, but instead, their souls were intertwined with forces much greater. Some had a soul that became woven with that of a god. Once the design of two halves of a whole was introduced, fate could see it through in whatever way best suited their great plan for the universe.
These bonds crossed through time and mortality. Ariadne and Diomysus. Psyche and Eros. Peleus and Thetis. Zeus was powerless to stop it.
I stare at Apollo in stunned silence. Soulmate. The word echoes in my head. Soulmate. I remember Chiron's lesson on this clearly.
I am terrified to move or even breathe, lest I shatter the bubble that surrounds us. Apollo is so close I can feel his breath, feel the rise and fall of his chest and the steady beat of his immortal heart. His hand shakes ever so slightly as he reaches for me and cups my cheek.
I let him. How could I not?
I would like to say I can remain strong, that I do not crumble in his hands, that I am unaffected. But if I did, it would all be a lie.
"My prophet," he breathes out adoringly. "Cassia." He draws me closer with the arm he has managed to slip around my waist, and he presses his forehead to mine. "I cannot do this anymore. I cannot pretend you are not-" he huffs. Desperately, he says, "I swear it on the Styx, I am yours alone."
I gasp sharply, unable to stop myself.
"Apollo," I murmur, both shocked by his oath and horrified at what the cost may be if he breaks it.
"It's true. I have never strayed from you, from the moment I knew you existed. You are my fate, little one. It is you. It has always been you."
"Truly?" I whisper, my eyes closed as I don't dare move away from his warmth.
"Truly," he echos, calm and relaxed and utterly certain.
I know it is true. I have always known, deep down. There is a reason he has no children my age or younger. There is a reason for his affection. There is a reason for his attachment and devotion.
Sacrifice be damned. I do not want to wait for him to make whatever show he had thought to. Not now, not when we are subjected to the mercy and whims of the oldest gods.
"How- How long have you known?" I stammer, my throat tightening. How is any of this possible?
I can feel him smile as he presses himself closer. "From the moment of your birth." His smile grows. "I felt it in the depths of my soul." He strokes my hair fondly. "It has happened, a god being given to a mortal as a soulmate. Even still, I never expected to have one of my own."
I consider his words. Then, however, a dark thought strikes me. Fear nearly paralyzes me. The idea that everything has been a lie is terrifying.
"Is...is that the only reason you saved me?" I ask, my voice small as I take a small step away from him. I need to know. His face immediately drops.
"No! Of course not," he says earnestly, so earnestly his words cannot be denied. "I would have loved you regardless, but as it turns out, it was my good fortune that you had the gift of prophecy. I wanted you to be safe.
"I wanted you to have the chance to learn how to harness your abilities. It just so happened that I needed a priestess, and it was a mere coincidence that you perfectly suited the role. Well, perhaps it was not a coincidence in truth. Is anything, really? Still, it certainly seemed like one."
My world is spinning. The only thing I can focus on is, I would have loved you regardless.
I stare at him, barely able to breathe. I cannot process the thoughts in my head or the emotions in my chest.
"You would have loved me regardless?" I repeat in a small voice.
"Well, yes, of course," he confirms, not realizing that my heart is racing five hundred miles an hour. "How could I not love you? You are perfect."
My jaw drops. I try to speak, but nothing comes out. How could I not love you? It was asked as if the answer was obvious to him, as if it should have been obvious to me, as if he cannot fathom any other possibility.
"You love me?"
It is a whisper. But Apollo looks like I just asked the most shocking question he has ever heard in his unending life. It is frightening and exhilarating to have everything I have ever wanted happening all at once. I am terrified this is a dream or illusion.
"You did not know?" he asks, dumbfounded.
"I...I knew you had a fondness for me. You have made that quite clear," I say shakily. "But love is something else entirely. I- I did not think it was possible. Even after all you have said, all you have done."
He sighs dramatically and takes me into his arms once more, declaring, "Of course I love you, little prophet. I love you more than I have ever loved anything. I know it is a frightening concept, but it is true nonetheless."
I have trouble processing it. Love. Apollo loves me. Me.
I have spent so long accepting that I could never have my love returned. I have spent my life praying for something I believed to be impossible. Hearing that what I want is here, it is real, is overwhelming. A god- my god- loves me. He thinks I am perfect. He is happy that we are soulmates.
Soulmates. Two halves of the same whole. Everyone has one. I have known the legend since I was ten years old. I knew my soulmate was somewhere. I had accepted that I could not have him. I chose Apollo over my soulmate. I never could have fathomed that my soulmate would be the god whose statue's feet I knelt at.
I cannot keep myself away. I reach up to touch him, to ensure this is real, and he lets me. My fingertips ghost against his cheek, his skin like fire beneath my touch. My other hand clasps onto his shoulder. If I fall from the shock of everything, he will catch me. Of that, I am certain.
"I never imagined..." I trail off, my voice just barely audible. "I always thought..."
"What is it?" he asks me, both curious and concerned.
"I have loved you for as long as I can remember," I murmur. There is freedom in finally speaking the words. I try to memorize how he feels under my touch, just in case this truly is a dream. "I always thought never knowing what it meant to love and be loved back was the price I paid for safety and security.
"It was worth it to me, despite the loneliness." I let out a quiet hum as I feel his hair. I smile to myself. "I never could have imagined that you would ever want me back."
"Cassia," he murmurs.
"You said that you wanted to prove your devotion to me," I continue. "This is what you meant."
The oath. The confession. The open and honest declaration. It has all led to this, to now.
He nods, saying, "It is. I did not want you assuming that I only wanted, well-" Apollo stops himself with a shake of his head. "I wanted you to know this is serious. This is forever." He suddenly looks stricken. "Unless...unless you do not want it to be forever?"
"'You mean," I pause, realizing what I am about to say, "us?"
Us. It is a foreign concept. It both delights and terrifies me.
Apollo nods. Worry still shines bright in his eyes.
I cannot help but smile slightly. "Has there ever been anything I have not laid at your feet?" He stares at me. "I promised my life to you. I will happily give you eternity."
"But you want to, yes? I would never forgive myself if you did this out of a sense of obligation," he frets. "This is not an offering, Cassia. This is more." He is dazed for a moment as he murmurs, "So much more."
I gently brush my thumb over his cheekbone. Gods, I think, he really is flawless. I have known he welcomes my touch, but for the first time, I feel truly free to give it. There is no hesitation in it, no worry of what might result from it. For once, I am not startled by how right it feels.
"I have only ever done what I wanted, Apollo," I murmur.
He blinks. I do not know if a god can be considered cute, but if it is possible, it would be Apollo in this moment. He resembles a surprised puppy.
"You do not do this out of duty," he says slowly. It is a question framed as a nervous declaration. "It is not merely because you are my priestess and you feel you must."
"No," I confirm. "I have only ever wanted you, Apollo. In whatever way I could have you."
He lets out a shuddered breath, and he clutches me close. It is odd to see him so vulnerable. It is odder still to know I am the reason for it.
Apollo nudges my cheek with his nose, murmuring, "Is it you and me now?"
My heart is thumping as I nod. "You and me."
Heavy bit of my body feels heavy as I turn my head closer to his. In this moment, it feels like everything is about to change. It feels like a new beginning.
When he kisses me, it is featherlight at first. It is careful and soft and a whisper. His lips against mine are soft, light. He is cautious at first, almost as if he is afraid to move, to do anything wrong. He kisses me so gently.
I have every opportunity to push him away. To hit and yell and take the knife that cut my palm and stab it into his belly. I do not do any of it. I think it finally settles into Apollo's mind that I want this, because he finally presses closer. He kisses me more confidently, his lips moving slow but steady against my own.
If he were not utterly surrounding me, I would have passed out. I would have been unable to stand on my own. But he is here, and he is my strength.
"My lord," I gasp against his lips, trying to breathe in the smallest bit of air. Apollo lets out a huffed laugh.
"No," he mumbles. "Not your lord. Just yours."
He kisses me harder after that, as if proving a point. My face burns as my delight is made audible, a choked moan ripping itself from my throat.
"Mine," I finally dare to whisper, staking my claim for the very first time.
I worry it will shatter the illusion. I worry it will wake me from this dreamland and shake me back into reality. But it does not. Instead, Apollo's smile merely grows, and he nods, pulling me in for one more kiss as he whispers, "Yours."