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A grand festival like no other.
A celebration and test for all heroes.
Announced and organized by Nero Claudius herself, the olympics were held in Chaldea with all Servants from every land and every class being allowed to participate.
Swimming.
Weightlifting.
Spear throwing.
Different disciplines for different warriors.
Though with a few restrictions for some Servants to make the disciplines be fair.
Now the 100m run was next. Some of the fastest runners Chaldea had to offer were already lined up, including Martha, Bradamante and of course…
…the huntress of Arcadia herself, Atalanta.
Eyes closed, she visualized herself on the track. It had been a while since she had a race. The last time she could freely run as fast as she could was on the beach. A race just between her and her former master and husband, Crio.
It was an amazing feeling having an equal as her lover. Her mane of gold and his of pure white waving as they ran against ocean breeze, the hot sand underneath their feet. Never had she felt such rush and joy from racing before. After all, her oath was one the line when she was alive.
And rarely had she seen Crio enjoy competition so much. His joy was as radiant as the sea that day and got Atalanta’s heart to beat even harder. Atalanta was a driving force for him to improve.
Him being able to keep up with her was a just a bonus.
Unfortunately, the fun ended when an octopus, that had been buried in the sand, decided to attach itself to the huntress’ delicate ankle. Frantically she had tried to kick it off, never having felt the disgusting feeling of its suckers on her legs before. But Crio tore it off and threw it away, saving his beloved huntress, and having to deal with her being terrified, though pondering how she of all people was frightened of an animal grecians liked to eat normally.
Kalamarakia are pretty normal.
To cut it short: He learned later when another octopus attacked Medea’s leg and he had to get that one off as well, Gilles bad reputation in Chaldea for certain reasons, as well as a few certain comics. He had lived in Japan for so long, yet he had no idea.
But nothing can disturb their race today. Nothing can crawl up her leg like that.
‘This time. Now me and him can finally settle our score.’.
Atalanta imagined it all.
Head-to-head, they raced towards the finish line, giving it all they got. But every time she approached the finish line, she always saw the both of them come to a draw.
It was as clear as the sky above. And she knew why.
A faint smile spread on her lips.
“Thinking about your sweet agapi, aren’t you, sis?”.
Opening her emerald eyes the moment a familiar voice taunted her love for her husband, Atalanta lifted an eyebrow towards Achilles having a knowing smile on his lips. “Are you participating as well?”, she asked the obvious question. “Of course. It is rare to get the opportunity to race both you and Crio. Besides, I cannot hope to compete in Penth’s discipline.”.
Atalanta tilted her head for a bit, soon remembering. “Ah. Weightlifting. She is going to compete with Heracles.”, she giggled softly. “She has tough competition ahead of her.”. “She will pull through. I believe in her.”, Achilles voiced bright confidence in his queen. “She beat me up in the great holy grail war under both of your gazes and is the physically strongest woman I know.”.
“I am still surprised that you two didn’t elope yet.”.
“Only because you and your master did immediately after the war and auntie Medea married her own master, doesn’t mean we have to rush things like the both of you. I am glad how things are. That I can sleep in the same bed as her, embrace her…”, he explained, his voice fading with a soft blush.
Atalanta couldn’t hold back an amused laugh. Whenever Achilles spoke of Penthesilea, his mind was in the clouds. Even back then when she hated him.
Beautiful. Penthesilea’s body was a work of art, one, at least he felt, that even Aphrodite would be jealous off. And even in her younger form, her magnificence was as radiant as her prowess on the battlefield.
“Also…”.
Atalanta’s ears perked up the quieter his voice got.
“I don’t know how I should propose to her, yet.”.
Fingers stroking her chin, Atalanta started to ponder. ‘When all of this is over, I have to speak with Crio about that. Maybe we can get him a jump start, how he calls it.’.
The moment he noticed what he said, he slapped his cheeks, grinning at the thoughtful huntress. “Let that be my problem. I will get around it at some point. But wasn’t that a picture-perfect reflection of Medea’s wedding when you and Crio married.”, he chuckled, soon fading at a massive error he committed.
He had no idea. None did.
Atalanta didn’t publicly marry in a closer circle like Medea and Souichirou.
She lured Crio into the woods, allowing only those sapphire eyes to be graced by Atalanta in the purest white dress he had ever seen and the only other being Artemis herself, who wanted to witness her children to be happy.
“It probably was? You two kept your wedding hidden after all.”. “Of course we did. That was a sacred moment for me and him. It might be the same for Penthesilea as a fellow child of lady Artemis. Oh?”, Atalanta answered as a matter of fact. Suddenly someone caught their gazes, stopping her march towards the weights with Beowulf and Heracles.
Penthesilea was silently staring at Achilles. Her sharp gaze was as intense as the sun’s rays, conveying a silent message meant only for him. Received without as much as another word, the Rider punched his chest, promising to win and prompting a proud smile on the Berserker’s lips, leaving with a nod. She had faith in his victory and she would celebrate with wine after they both won.
Atalanta couldn’t help her faint smile. ‘These two. Good thing they were able to sort out their differences.’. It took a lot. A bloody fight wrought by bare fists and skill in close-combat.
One the queen decided for herself near the end, allowing the Rider to finally apologize and earn the love he yearned for with a deep kiss, exchanging the blood on their lips.
Achilles noticed Atalanta smile absent minded as she returned to the great holy grail war. “Well, it was thanks to the two of you that there was even a chance for me and Penth. So…thank you, sis.”, he whispered gratefully, earning a mere shake of her head. “No need for. I am just happy to see that you could put that regret behind you. Well, she seems to have confidence in you. Too bad I will have to crush it.”, Atalanta confidently returned.
Her tale for being the fastest was known throughout the entire world. None won against her.
There was a reason the huntress was Achilles’ idol. A competitive grin spread on his lips. “We will see about that. Fair and square.”.
But then his eyes wandered as the Servants gathered.
“Uhm…say sis…”, Achilles worried as the absent spot beside her. “Where is bro?”. Silently Atalanta glared at the spot.
It was unusual. Never was the huntress seen alone like this.
“I don’t know. Crio would never miss a chance to race against me.”, she explained with a worried shake of her head. “We raced even before we actually exchanged our rings, though that was out of play. I stole his cigarettes that day in Trifas to get him to stop smoking. Still…”.
Searching eyes went over the tribune, thinking he might skip because of a headache or something.
“Agapi mou…Where are you?”.
Up on the tribune, Nero stared at the greeks, proudly crossing her arms. ‘Of course Arcadia’s beautiful lioness would take the chance to show her prowess.’. But even she noticed something off with her side being empty. ‘Wait…Only these two? Where is her husband?’.
Curiously she looked at Penthesilea warming herself up. “Queen Penthesilea.”. “Yes?”, came the prompt answer. “You and your beloved are quite close to the huntress’ husband, correct?”. Penthesilea smiled warmly and nodded. A sight rare from the amazon queen. “That we are. He is my beloved brother and we always have the other’s back, ever since our time as partners in the great holy grail war. Though, why the sudden interest, emperor? Doesn’t the race start soon? You’ll see when Atalanta and Crio are running.”.
“Well…”.
Penthesilea’s eyes wandered towards the race track, swiftly noticing the empty spot beside a worried Atalanta. Doubtfully, she gazed at the participants preparing and Atalanta shuffling with her feet, growing more nervous by the second, while Achilles tried his best to keep her motivated to race. “That is odd. He’d never pass a chance to race against his wife.”, the queenmuttered under her breath.
Penthesilea’s eyes slowly wandered from Atalanta’s worried look up towards the tribune, gazing at Ritsuka emitting cold sweat as she stared at the spot.
Her lips slowly opened in shock.
“Wait…No, he didn’t!”.
…
Tiredly sleeping on his couch, the white maned greek enjoyed the small break he got. Atalanta Alter nuzzled against his shoulder, holding onto the hand on her waist and Jack having his free arm protectively around her, the family slept peacefully on the couch of his office.
Going through Ritsuka’s reports was suffering.
When his concentration began shatter, Alter had entered with Jack, who eagerly wanted to hear another story. And close together, the family peacefully went to sleep, with the small Assassin being the first to enter Morpheus’ dreamscape.
And just like that, the queen found the missing competitor.
“Ah.”.
Rushing inside his office, Penthesilea was frozen, seeing the white-haired Saber protect his family in his slumber. Yet completely missing out on the other side of his wife waiting for him at the race track. ‘Ghamoto.’, a vile curse inside her mind, the queen glanced at the table, full of paperwork. ‘I had expected him to work until late at night again. By the gods.’.
The moment Penthesilea’s hand went for his shoulder to shake him awake…
…a silver glove grabbed her wrist, strongly.
“Who is there?”.
The low growl would have frozen the blood of anyone in vicinity. But it wasn’t unusual to the queen. “It is me, Penthesilea.”, she quickly explained to a drowsy Berserker. With a small sigh, Atalanta Alter cracked her eyes open. Being rudely woken up like that never was a good way to engage this sleeping lioness. “Penthesilea…”, the later muttered, yawned heartily and leaned back against Crio’s shoulder. “Let him sleep. He had a long night.”. “I can believe that.”, Penthesilea muttered with a risen eyebrow.
There was a huge mountain of papers on the modern, white table. All reports of Ritsuka he went through in one night.
“He went through all these reports and still took his time to read a goodnight story to Jack.”, Atalanta Alter smiled how he leaned his head instinctively to hers. In front of a worried Penthesilea, the calydon huntress gifted him a gentle kiss on his cheek, not desiring to wake him up. “He deserves rest. So, please just let him be for now. You can talk with him later.”.
“The problem is, someone is waiting for him. So, he needs to wake up.”, Penthesilea denied, only receiving a low growl again. Alter’s sharp lime green eyes opened. Her cat-like pupils sharply tore into Penthesilea’s. “And who is so important that I need to wake agapi? And don’t tell me it is the youngster sulking again because Crio prefers Odysseus over him when it comes to their legends…or that he prefers a katana over a makheira.”.
Penthesilea sighed as Alter remembered a recent problem of the greek Servants and their fractured pride over the white-haired Saber using a japanese weapons. And just as swiftly, the queen shattered the peace.
“…Archer is waiting on the race track and wondering why the spot at her side is empty.”.
Immediately the Alter woke up. “Wait, the race is today?!”, she whispered with blood running cold.
Penthesilea silently nodded. “My discipline hasn’t started yet, but the race is soon beginning and a few people wonder why Atalanta is-“.
“So you are entering the fencing contest, sir Gawain?”.
“Indeed. It is starting after the race and the weightlifting contest. Though, there is something curious going on, sir Tristan.”.
“How so?”.
“Well, the last time at the beach, people were staring when the huntress of Arcadia was racing with her lover and nearly stirred up a sandstorm. She is standing on the racetrack and he is not present.”.
“That is certainly odd. They are never seen apart.”.
Hearing Gawain and Tristan speak outside the closed doors, Penthesilea watched how the Alter’s face twisted from the horror.
“Oh…ghamoto…”.
…
The time passed and the race was about to begin soon.
The Archer’s tail was starting to sway and Achilles started to worry. “You don’t believe somebody would sabotage your race with him, right?”. “The one who dares, I will shoot between the eyes.”, Atalanta warned to whoever would dare. But his absence was still unusual. “Still…”.
Her tail suddenly stopped swaying.
Even amidst the hollering of the motivated spectators, Atalanta could hear hasty footsteps and an annoyed cursing.
Coming out of the shadows of the hallway, Crio covered his sapphire eyes from the sun. His head was throbbing from the volume alone. ‘Damnit. That I nearly overslept it all…’, he cursed himself. And there Crio had thought to use an alarm the night before. Now Alter had to hastily wake him up, which took a lot more effort than expected.
Penthesilea followed close behind him, amused how her first hunch was right.
A bright grin spread on Atalanta’s face. “Agapi! Where have you been?”, she walked over, greeting her beloved and grasping his tired hands. An apologetic look on his face for nearly forgetting their promised race, Penthesilea answered with a pat on his shoulders. “He was asleep on the couch. You can voice your ‘gratitude’ to our master and her sloppy reports.”, the perpetrator was called out.
Emerald eyes stared into the orange haired master’s body, hiding behind the shivering Shielder.
Atalanta didn’t need to know any more. Sighing with a soft smile, she went on her toes, pressing her lips on his. Crio’s features immediately softened at the tender touch as his hands wandered around her waist to keep her from separating.
It was an effective way to wake up properly.
Achilles stared longingly at Penthesilea’s own lips, wincing when her elbow swiftly smashed into his ribs. “When you win. Then I will think of a proper reward, for you.”. “Earning the queen’s lips first, huh?”, Achilles chuckled. Though that motivated him only more to win. “Don’t worry. Once we won, I will have earned my reward.”.
Pulling herself away from her husband’s lips, Atalanta smiled softly at Crio, much more relaxed than before. “Are you awake now?”. “I didn’t have any coffee, so that helped.”, he chuckled, gratefully putting a peck on her forehead.
Though in a matter of seconds, faced with her own confidence, his sapphire eyes suddenly burned a bright orange. “But don’t believe that I will pull any punches because I am married to you. Artemis herself won’t be able hold me back.”. “Pff. I don’t expect anything less. We’ll see about that, Crio.”, Atalanta answered, feeling his hands vanish. “By the end of this, I will listen to you revering me for my swiftness all night long.”.
Their competitiveness was already known by every Servant in Chaldea. Now it was time to settle what they couldn’t before.
Crio gazed at Achilles, confidence radiating from him. Normally, the sight of his burning orange eyes made anyone’s blood run cold, as they mostly come with a partial transformation when the white-maned lion was irritated.
But in that case, it was just competitiveness with Atalanta.
“So, you are trying to prove yourself today?”. “Of course. I had my own responsibilities to my queen when we are at the beach.”, he answered, his grin only spreading. “But when I have the chance to beat both you and sis in an official competition, then I will take that chance.”.
Atalanta silently smiled as Crio brushed by her…
…immediately butting heads with the Rider. For once, a battle hungry grin was wide on the white-maned lion’s lips.
“We’ll see about that, koutsousvelo…”.
“Oh, don’t worry about that, bro. This ‘brat’ is going to put both you and my father’s comrade down. The old generation needs to make space for the next.”.
With a pat on his back, Penthesilea left with parting words of encouragement towards the hero. “You will win. There is a reason I allow only you at my side.”, she whispered into his ear and a stroke of her delicate fingers on his skin. Crio and Atalanta laughed at the red flush and dumb grin on Achilles’ face.
Every Servant was now assembled, crouching and ready to race.
Eye of burning orange, determined green and fierce brown were all aiming for victory as they prepared.
And with a shot out of the pistol…
…the race began.
For Servants, 100m was nothing. But those were a few seconds at full speed.
While Achilles had the head start, feeling victory already in his grasp, he soon learned how wrong he was.
Crio and Atalanta quickly caught up when he turned his head around, thinking that they both were farther behind. That callousness just costed him his lead.
The pair of lions was focused completely on winning the race. Only victory was in mind.
“Are you still tired, Crio?!”, Atalanta taunted, watching him fall back a bit. Though the moment she taunted him, an ominous smile graced his lips. Lifting an eyebrow, the memory of the last race rose again amidst the cheering from the crowd.
It was the same situation were she grew a bit cocky and nearly lost the lead.
Sharply gasping, emerald eyes narrowed and the huntress sped up as much as she could. Atalanta would not give up her lead.
Half of the racetrack was already covered. In mere seconds it would be over and she remembered her husband able to rocket towards the top when she would least expect it.
Putting all the strength he had into his legs, Crio dashed with incredibly speed, not only easily overtaking Achilles again, but also Bradamante and many other fast runners…
…but it only gave him the slight edge over Atalanta this time.
Blue eyes narrowed, glancing at the huntress rushing against the wind. The same tactic didn’t work again and the little burst he had was not enough to make her loose her cool this time. Concentrating every bit of stamina and strength he had, fueled by the desire to overtake her, Crio bared sharp fangs at the same time as Atalanta.
Both were at their peak, clenching their teeth. Only one person would stand on top of the winner’s podium.
The huntress of Arcadia or Greece’s sharpest blade.
With a final burst of speed, they reached for the finish line.
Merely centimeters separated them.
It was utterly silent when the band was broken and the competitors all crossed the finish line one after another.
Atalanta and Crio were panting, having put all they had into those few seconds. Holding onto the other’s waist to not fall, they gazed at the others, some ruffling their hairs in frustration, while Achilles had to explain himself to a sighing and frustrated Penthesilea how he was overtaken so easily when he had the lead the first few seconds. Problem was, he was also getting another lecture about his overconfidence from Chiron behind her.
“Who…”, Crio panted, gazing at the screen with Atalanta, finishing tiredly. “…won?”.
Having the microphone in hand Nero applauded the racers. “What a spectacle by our fastest Servants! Congratulations to all competitors!”.
The spectators were cheering and whistling for all of them.
But Nero soon ignited their curiosity, silencing the crowed.
“Though now the for the grand question…”.
Nero theatrically pointed towards the large screen.
“Whom of the fierce greek warrior pair took the victory?!”.
The clip rolled, picture for picture. The entire stadium was silent.
The result…
Crio silently smiled as Atalanta started to giggle into his broad chest. She could have predicted that outcome, though seeing it again on screen was just another reminder how close these two were. Crio wasn’t prideful enough to deny a loss. If he did, he would openly congratulate her and lift Atalanta onto his shoulders to show who the best one was.
Only this time…
“It’s a draw!”.
The shot was clear.
Both Crio and Atalanta reached the finish line at the same time.
Before either of them could as much as pant a congratulation, a shadow approached behind them.
Strong, delicate arms pulled both of the startled greeks towards the goddess of the hunt, proudly holding her children. “You both did so well! You were like whirlwinds!”, Artemis fawned, kissing and nuzzling against Atalanta’s and Crio’s cheek.
However, he suddenly shivered when Artemis rubbed against his a second time with a curious look.
“Hmm…Crio, my son, you need to shave.”, she noticed, prompting Atalanta to snort and him to roll his eyes. First thing in the morning, racing against his wife and being told by his mother to shave. “I can’t do anything about it when I shave and I can barely see them. I had to be born with white hair.”. “Of course. Why shouldn’t my baby look like his mother?”, Artemis giggled, still nuzzling him just to tease him. Even if just being adopted by her like Atalanta was when she was a baby, because of their hair color, Crio was often seen as a legitimate son of the goddess of the hunt. Noticing the pleading look in his eyes, Atalanta rubbed his face. “Once we are back, I will take a look. Seriously. Your eyesight has grown worse since the great holy grail war, agapi mou!”, Crio endured hers and Artemis’ laughter. He always had trouble to cleanly shave when his beard’s color mixed with the shaving gel. At least the shape of his goatee he could keep perfectly. But an Archer’s eyes were a huge help.
“Well…that’s a bummer. Ouch!”.
The family grinned at Achilles getting another blow into his ribs by Penthesilea. “I already told you I was sorry.”. “Sorry doesn’t cut it, Achilles.”, Chiron calmly lectured his student. “You lost because you grew overconfident, against Atalanta of all people. Peleus told you enough about her, but you took her and Crio lightly. Didn’t you see yourself in the great holy grail war how fast he was?”. “He did, multiple times.”, Penthesilea remembered unamused, rubbing her neck where Crio’s hand fingers nearly burrowed into back when they weren’t on equal footing. Approaching the victors, Penthesilea offered respect to both. “There is a reason you both were called together back in the day and we could witness it here once more. It was an incredible race, both of you.”.
“Thanks.”, Crio answered, kissing Atalanta’s temple tenderly, her head reflexively leaning in towards a tender touch. “Never thought in my life I would be able to race with her. But anyway, now it is your turn, right? Weightlifting? Who are your fellow competitors?”.
Penthesilea pointed silently behind her.
Crio started to frown a bit at Heracles warming up his humongous muscles, swinging his arm. ‘I hope this won’t end like that tennis competition against Medea that time.’. Considering that it was Penthesilea however who he was competing against him this time and not the delicate Caster, Crio put up a strong face and lifted his hand confidently.
“Show them what you got, sister.”.
Gratefully accepting her brother’s confidence in her strength, she clapped his hand, rolling her arm as she went to claim victory. “Don’t worry. I am not going to fail my brother.”, she shouted back, raising her fist victoriously. Achilles silently marveled at Penthesilea’s back.
And of course, he was the loudest one to cheer her on, earning curious looks and amusement from Crio, Atalanta, Artemis and Chiron.
The competition went by fairly normal, thanks to the restrictions.
After the victors received their medals, the end of Chaldea’s first olympic games were celebrated by the grandest fireworks ever to be seen. Nero doesn’t hold back, no matter where.
Atalanta however had problems with fireworks. Some of them are too loud and rang in her ears. Instead, Crio returned to Chaldea with her and Alter graciously took care of the children.
Allowing husband and wife some time alone to drink wine and enjoy the love of the only person that could hold a candle against them.
Crio couldn’t hope to fight Atalanta’s stubbornness. She was just as hardheaded, if not even more, than himself. Be it upon something as harmless as him working to long, to him asking to infiltrate and enemy camp all by himself, earning scowls and a lecture by her. He felt blessed to have the opportunity to marry a woman such as her.
Atalanta was always grateful to Crio’s faithfulness. There were many beauties not only in Chaldea, but even back at home where they went into a deep slumber before being called upon. Any could have potentially gotten his interest as many males easily turned their heads when they walked down the streets.
Caenis.
Pollux.
Medusa.
Medea as well, if she had not been married.
But those gorgeous sapphire eyes of his and his beating heart were faithful only to her and none other.
Atalanta was his Hera and Crio her Zeus. Yet unlike the king of the gods, only faithful and loving to that woman he loved to race against.
Drunk they were on love and wine.
And just as much as they loved…
…they embraced another, holding onto their dearest.
When Alter entered the room long after, and found both asleep, a part of her was glad how faithful he had been to both of them. Nothing changed, even with their summons. Yet a part was also scared. Fearful of him being driven away from her, because she was fused with the pelt.
Yet a humored blue eye cracked open, shifting a bit with the blonde huntress in his arms to make space for the white-haired lioness.
‘Even if you are a separate person, you are still my beloved woman’, his lips silently loved and vowed her, easily able to be read. Touched and with tears in her eyes, Alter joined her husband’s side, snuggling closely into his chest and soon falling asleep to his fingers tenderly combing her hair.
‘What a life I have lived.’.
Crio stared at the ceiling, caressing both of them. The silent sounds of their breathing allowed him peace he rarely knew before. ‘One night, Medea pulls out bullets and knives from my body. The next, I am thrown into war, becoming Atalanta’s master. I never planned for a meeting with Artemis.’, he silently laughed at his circumstances and loving looks at his peaceful lionesses.
‘And never did I expect to have her agree so openly for me to marry you. I couldn’t be more thankful for this life I have. And never will I gaze anywhere else but into your eyes. I love both you.’.
The moment his eyes shut and he finally drifted off into the unknown lands of Morpheus, both women woke. His presence alone told them how he was pondering about his life.
Gratefully smiling, they pressed their lips on his cheek, nuzzling into his neck…
…falling asleep as one big family.
Though in his dream, him and Atalanta lost because Kingprotea was able to win with only one giant step.