Chapter 50

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Artume

"This has been much better than mortal intercourse..." Artume breathed out. A laugh left Annabeth as she turned in the bed, letting an arm drape over Artume's bare chest. There's much more to intercourse between two immortals than simple humans. It is extraordinarily better, so much more intimate and filled with life.

"It's certainly exhausting," Annabeth hummed, smiling as she snuggled into Artume. Their warmth still radiated off them. It's a strange sensation, almost like Artume felt to be engulfed with warmth and—something more. She couldn't place it, but she felt content and happy.

"Yes. Much more exhausting than any mortal could do to me. You are extraordinary, Annabeth. Thank you."

Annabeth merely hummed contentedly as her breathing steadied. It was a sight she could watch forever. The woman of her dreams. Artume could not put it any other way, letting her arms bring the tangled mess of blond hair closer to snuggle together. They both drifted into a trance akin to sleep.

The two did not awake until two days later. Both were a tangled mess of limbs as the silver light trickled inside. It felt peaceful, Artume thought. She took a breath and opened her eyes only to be met by two grey eyes watching her.

"Who's this beautiful lady that found herself in my bed?"

"Your wife," Annabeth giggled. "A very happy wife, too."

"Is she now?" Artume questioned, snuggling into the crook of the blond's neck. It felt warm as the golden speckles coated her neck and shoulders. There's no doubt as to what she is.

"Yup, I am. But I have something to ask," Annabeth hummed as her fingers went through the soft silver hair. "I want us to meet my father. He may not always have been the best, but it's important to me that he is aware of what's happening."

"If you wish, then so be it. But he's unable to come here. It would kill him."

The blond nodded, letting Artume stay within her warmth and embrace. There's something about this that made Artume remember. It made her think about her sister, how she comforted her. How mother encouraged her when Artume started out as a fledgling deity. Artume let her arms tighten around Annabeth, feeling the liquid silver leave her eyes.

"Something wrong?" Annabeth asked softly as her thumb wiped away the tears.

"No..."

"Why the tears, sweetheart? Something you remember?"

"Why are you always right?" Artume chuckled before she took one deep breath, happy to still smell the paper and ink. "You made me realize I finally found my home. It's been thousands of years since I last felt this way."

Two arms brought her into the warm soft cleavage. Artume let a breath leave her. It's a very comforting place. In more than one way, to be honest. Mortals may experience a lesser version of intercourse, but mortal bodies do have some aspects Artume could appreciate.

"I'm happy I could have given it to you. You deserve it," Annabeth said, laying her head on the silver hair. "It feels like home to me too. Thank you."

"Very good to know. I... well, I do not have much to do. We're waiting for Hades, and after we have visited your father, I've got nothing else planned. Is there something you have that you wish to do?"

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