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ameagrice · 5 months ago

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percy jackson x fem reader

chapter thirty-nine | liar, liar

You were beginning to understand how the ancient Romans enjoyed watching people fight to the death. Because although Percy is literally fighting for his life in the arena dozens of feet below against a being much bigger, and much stronger, than he, there’s something alluring to watching the fight. Something about the crowd yelling, the way your heart speeds up and drops down again every time something gets too close for either of them.

Yeah, the ancient Romans had the right idea.

“You’re enjoying this too much,” Rachel mutters down your ear, just as the crowd goes up in cheers again.

You’ve got your hands clasped together sweaty and squeezing tightly under your chin. Rachel might just be right.

Next to you stands Kelli. The Kelli. The monster Kelli from the high school. Of course you’re never lucky for long. Whenever she hears Rachel talk, she takes a good swipe at her with her talons, or threatens to shut her up in a way that includes blood. Disgusting, honestly. Monsters are in general utterly disgusting.

The floor of the arena and the stands seemed entirely made of packed dirt. You had the best view point in the house, directly in the middle, looking over the arena. Once or twice, Percy casted a look to your height, but he had been quickly drawn away by the ongoing fight. Around the arena were skulls, stuck on to the edge of the seats, and around the ceiling, where chains dangled down. In the middle of the opposite wall, right above the throne Luke Castellan took up, hung a giant banner with the trident of Poseidon in the centre. When you first arrived, the giant thing sitting next to Luke had simply been a spectator. Now, Percy was fighting him. For a few minutes Percy had only managed to confuse him, going this way and that and taking mad dives out of the way. But if he wanted to make it home, Percy would, frankly, need a miracle. Antaeus, a distant son of Poseidon. He declared this arena a ‘temple to the Earthshaker’ and demanded Percy engage in a fight.

Now, you’re trying to send him messages with your eyes whilst being totally enthralled in the fight itself. The Ancient Greeks had the Olympics, and the Romans their Gladiators. Sometimes you thought you might have been a better fit for the past. And then you thought about your rights, and decided you’d be alright where you are.

You’d been sending him ideas with your eyes the whole fight time. Finally, Percy got the hint, with one singular glance in your direction. He’d made it up to the chains, climbing further and higher so Antaeus had no choice but to follow the fighter in order to win. If Percy got away, what sort of show would that be? Thankfully, Antaeus followed Percy’s—your—idea, climbing up the chains, yelling. By the time he’d reached the top and become tangled, Percy slid back down the chains, all the way to the ground, panting and sweaty in the face.

“Get me down!” Antaeus demanded.

Luke, from his makeshift throne, was absolutely furious. He got to his feet, angry as hell. “Free him! Now.”

Percy, a tiny dot in the arena, pulled the pen from his pocket and pulled the cap. Riptide materialised.

“Oh, I’ll free him,” said Percy. Something about the way the arena was constructed had his voice echoing around it. Annabeth would know what it was. He stood on his toes, ever so slightly, and raised the tip of Riptide to Antaeus’s stomach. With the point, he touched the giant’s skin, and sand began to pour out. As a being of the earth, Antaeus would struggle to regenerate without touching it, hence your idea to have him off the ground. Sand poured into a pile as the giant roared in anger, the crowd watched in disbelief, until there was nothing left of Antaeus.

And Luke…

“I should have killed you right at the beginning.”

You could vaguely hear your friend hum in amusement. “You tried. And failed. Let us go, Luke. We had an agreement with Antaeus; I’m the winner.”

“Antaeus’s oath dies with him. Since I’m feeling merciful today, I’ll have you killed quickly. Save the girls for last. I’d like them to watch their little hero die. An example.”

“This is, like,” you pause for a moment, thinking. “This is…”

“Are you gonna say something stupid?”

You nod slowly, glancing up. “Might do, yeah.”

“Please do. I’d like to laugh at the dumb shit coming out of your mouth before we die.”

You roll your eyes. “Pfffttttt. We’re not gonna die, Rachel! We’re just gonna suffer for a little bit. We’ll live. Totally.”

Rachel snorts heavily, and Kelli retaliates by hissing down her ear like some possessed rattlesnake. “Well, as long as we suffer, eh?”

You hum. Percy begins backing up in the arena. “As is the life of a demigod.”

“I’m not a demigod!” Your companion complains.

“As is the life of…someone with bad luck? The two go hand-in-hand, really—” you trail off, standing back to observe the situation at hand.

Rachel laughed almost mockingly. Drawing back, a little hurt, you frown heavily. “What are you supposed to be? A child poet?”

Then, shrugging your shoulders, unable to back down to embarrassment, “You never know. There’s time yet. And I’m not a child, Rachel, I’m nearly sixteen. You’re younger than me!”

She eyed you up and down. “You don’t know when to stop, do you?”

A shrill scream, like nails on a chalkboard, rang from behind. Both yourself and Rachel jumped violently, stumbling aside as Kelli, who had been keeping guard, was suddenly lifted in the mouth of a giant, black Mastiff and thrown over the edge of the arena. She screamed as she hit the ground, your stomach churned with the sight, before she promptly exploded in a puff of golden dust, sent right back to Tartarus.

For a moment, you stand, jarred, overlooking the arena, hands perched on the rail edge. Chaos has broken out below.

“Come on!” Rachel snatches up your sweater, yanking you away from the overview. “Let’s go!”

Sliding across sand-dusted ground, you find Percy waiting impatiently at the bottom, looking left and right anxiously. The giant hound, Mrs O’Leary, is leaping in your direction like she’s had too much sherbet and chocolate, tongue lolling, eyes bright.

“Hurry up!” Percy urges with an impatient and nervous look on his face. “Go, go, go!”

The three of you take off out of there, following the path the whole way through with the assistance of Rachel, guiding the way.

"Left!" She'd shout, taking a dramatic turn down what looked like the chute for a body bag to be thrown down. At the bottom stood a set of rusty metal doors, and when you reached them, they flung open with monsters waiting on the other side. Trying to run back up the chute in complete darkness, with horrific noise catching up from behind, had to be up there with the worst experiences of your life. To put it into perspective; imagine getting up in the night for a glass of water, not turning on the light in the hall, and knowing there is something waiting for you in the dark, only you can't run fast enough away. Pretty terrible.

Later on, at a New Years Eve party, you chewed Rachel out for that for that incident, and would continue to do so for the rest of your lives.

Despite the heart attack you experienced as you made your getaway up the body chute, you found the energy somehow (and the breath) to acknowledge the extra member of your group, tagging alongside Percy, like a lost puppy. A slender boy a teensy bit older than you, whose sword carried some sort of essence providing a little bit of light, bouncing off of his silk-like ebony hair, and the patch covering his left eye. Lights lit your path in the dark, running down the hall toward two new sets of doorways.

"The far right door!" Gasped Rachel, holding on to the wall for support. "That's the right way. I promise this time!"

The mysterious new guy barrelled on through the right doorway first, a good job, since you didn't fancy being that room's experiment. As he flung the door open, daylight blinded you, and a horrible sense of deja vu overcame you. Disorientated, you stumble out to the sidewalk, throwing aside an old couple into the path of the cab rank. Cars blare their horns, and the old couple are looking at you like you've killed their dog or something. As the feeling fades, you're left with what you can only describe as horror, like some sickness is lingering under your skin, rotting from the inside out. You stumble over the edge of the sidewalk, directly into oncoming traffic, and find your eyes drawn up to the clouds of smoke from an industrial site across the street, billowing into the sky at a hundred miles an hour.

"Hey!"

Turning your head, you find Percy gripping you by the wrist, confused and his eyes swimming with concern. "I've been talking to you. Didn't you hear me?"

You shake your head no. "Sorry," you breathe. "Must've...missed you."

He looks back and forth between your eyes. They sting, for some reason. "I've been standing here for ages."

"Well, nevermind that, then. Just got confused. Did we not come out of the same place or something? Where's Rachel, anyway."

There’s no sight of the redhead on the streets, not even when you spin in a circle four times and shout ‘RACHELLLLLLL!’ with no shame, while Percy ducks his head and avoids all eye contact with the public. Thunder cracks high above, and a couple of tourists tip their cameras to the sky to take pictures.

“Damn,” you shrug your shoulders. “She must be lost to the Maze. Shame. Let’s go home.” You spin on your heel. Percy grabs you by the collar and pulls you back across the sidewalk.

“We’ll go back in,” he decides firmly.

“Huh?!” Outraged at his suggestion, you plant your feet solidly into the concrete. You throw your hands out around the pole of a streetlight. “With that lot still in there? Fat chance!”

Percy flaps his hands around like he’s losing patience, and then waves one at the doorway you ran out of. It’s a thin sheet of metal, with bullet holes all over.

“We can’t leave a mortal in the Maze!” He exclaims, and stresses a line between his eyebrows.

“But she knows the way!” You emphasise. “She can see it, apparently, which I think is a load of bull. If she could see her way in there, she can see her way out, can’t she.”

“Fine,” he turns his back on you. “Stay on the streets.”

“Well you can’t go back on your own!” You fume, running to catch the door before it shuts without you. “I mean come on, Percy, use your brain.”

You see him smirk for a split second, before the door slams shut behind you, casting you into darkness. It’s so dark you can’t see your hands in front of your face, or Percy, for that matter.

“Are you still there?” You ask. He hums. A warm hand slaps your nose. “Ow!”

“What is that?” Percy laughs. It feels stark when you’ve lost a sense. “Is that your eye?”

“My nose!” You hmph!. “Do my eyes usually stick out directly?”

“When you don’t get what you want, yeah.”

“Liar. What now, anyway? You got a flashlight?”

“Yeah, let me just pull it out of my a—”

“Aaaaaaalright, that’s a no.” You sigh through your nose. “We’re back to the hand on the wall, I guess. Hold my shirt?”

Percy’s fingers find the space between your shoulder blades, before you set off, following the maze around with your hands out on either side, touching both walls. It’s incredibly claustrophobic in here. When you call for Rachel every few metres, your voice barely echoes thanks to the small confines of where you find yourselves. You’re not keen on Rachel, but knowing she’s lost somewhere down here isn’t comforting. You’d be terrified on your own here, so you can’t imagine how’s she’s feeling.

“Do you think she found her way out?”

“Huh?”

“Rachel,” you add. “D’you think she found her way out?”

“Careful,” Percy flicks your back. “You sound like you care.”

You scoff heavily. “I don’t like her. Doesn’t mean I want her to get hurt. I’m not that bad of a person, Percy.” And then… “Am I?”

He sniffs. “No. But to answer your question, she said she could see the way. I believe her. I think she would have found her way out by now, at least.”

You nod, but he can’t see you do it. “Right. Right.”

You continue on in what is mostly silence, besides the sound of your breathing, and footsteps. That is, until a sensor light suddenly flickers by your feet, lighting the way. Paused, you hesitantly stick your foot out and watch the next one light up.

“Who needs Rachel, huh?” Nervously, you take the plunge to keep going. It was almost better in the dark when you couldn’t see what waited up ahead. You look up. And roll your eyes, abruptly stopping. Percy kicks the back of your ankle, pulling your foot from your shoe. “Oh, for gods sake, it’s a dead end. Turn around, go back.”

“Geez. Fine. Fine! But can I remind you—hold up!”

“What?” You snap, but stop trying to shuffle around him.

You scarcely see him when the light is by your feet, but you can make out enough to see him squint his eyes. “Don’t you see it?”

“What?”

He raises his hand and presses to your side, raising his pointed finger directly in your line of sight, landing on a thin strip of warm light, barely there. The dead end is in fact a doorway.

“Oh,” you mumble softly. “Should we—?”

You didn’t need to ask, really. Percy slid past you and headed straight for the doorway, raising his hand to slide across what sounds like wood until it lands on the handle. No sound besides the two of you was audible before he opened the door, but the second he did so, it was like stepping into a whole other world. The hum of mechanical things roared, like a presser and iron, and steam. A radio came next, classical music floating to your ears.

“Wait!” You hiss, taking off after him. Not only because you were scared with nothing behind you, but because you were scared of him going alone.

Behind the door lay a room as big a school gymnasium, containing bronze statues half-finished covered with wilting white dust sheets. One of them resembled your mother. The other was a small wood nymph. Looking past the statues, the mechanics and the tables, a huge window making up the majority of the wall opposite looked out over some sort of wilderness. It was raining, but the sun shone. No rainbow, though.

Percy choked. Stepping inside, closing the door, you jogged over to the table he stood before, admiring sets of literal wings. The feathers almost shone gold. Trailing the tips of your fingers across them, they might just have been the softest things you’d ever felt in your life. Although not symmetrical to a T, they were pretty damn close to being. You walked in a circle around them and admired the way light beamed off of the feathers, as if liquid gold had doused them. On the other side of the table, Percy stood mesmerised, and his face was bathed in golden light cast from the wings. His gaze dropped and lowered, landing on you.

And then neither of you were caught by the wings, but by each other. Your hair dusted your lashes and your cheeks and from the corners of your eyes it had changed shade, somewhat glowing gold and warm yellow on its own. The silver in Percy’s hair turned luminous, kissing his brows. His freckles were highlighted across his cheeks and nose, as if he’d been kissed by an angel. For some reason, a swell of unknown emotion came over you and struck you right in the chest.

Why did you feel so…sad?

Someone slurped from a cup, way behind you. “Welcome to Colorado Springs!” A man’s voice called. Turning to the source, the sound came evidently from the figure on a spiral staircase, overlooking the workshop from the second floor you hadn’t noticed right away.

“I know you,” said Percy with plenty of distaste. “Quintus. Where’s Daedalus.”

“I like your confidence!” He began to descend. “You’re very sure this is his workshop?”

“What else could it be?” You say dryly. “What have you done with him?”

“Trust me, you don’t want to meet him.”

You lean your hip on the table. “I didn’t come all this way just to be told no. And I didn’t come all this way just to see you. I want answers. We want answers.”

Quintus came down the stairs. He had a sword at his side like he had been expecting you to turn up.

“You think that I work with Luke and Kronos.”

“I don’t think. I know.” You didn’t really. But he didn’t need to know that.

“You’re a smart girl. But you’re very wrong. I only work for myself.”

“So Geryon mentioning you was, what, a coincidence?” Piped Percy. “And Luke?”

Quintus laughed. “Of course! I’ve been everywhere.”

“Stop playing around,” Percy turned cold. “What have you done with Daedalus?”

“My boy,” Quintus stared. Rounding the table to near Percy, he said, “use your brain. I am Daedalus.”

Narrowing your eyes, you looked him up and down twice, for any indication that this man was in fact the man you’d been looking for. All you could see was a liar and a scumbag.

“Where’s your proof?” You jerk your chin at him.

Quintus grinned and tilted his head. “What, you don’t believe me?”

“Does it sound like we believe you?”

“At camp,” began Percy, “you were just a swordsman. Not an inventor. Or a crafter. You don’t seem a thing like Daedalus. You’ve probably kidnapped him and hidden him someplace back there.”

Quintus took the last sip of his drink and slammed the cup down on the side. “I am many things. An artist. A swordsman. An inventor. You live for so long…eh, you pick up a couple things along the way.”

“But you don’t even look like Daedalus!” Cried Percy. He waved a pointed hand to him. “I saw him in my dream. But you don’t look a thing alike.”

Something twisted at the base of your spine. Leaning forward, one hand on the table and the other rubbing the spot on your back, you had a sudden idea. “Daedalus would make himself a new body. Somebody capable of making a maze could easily do that. So that’s what you’ve done, if you are him, anyway. Am I right?”

Quintus winked, smiling with glee, now you’d connected the dots. “Right you are, my dear.”

You wrinkled your nose. “How’d you do it, then? How’d you transfer a human soul, a living spirit, to a machine? That shouldn’t be possible. It can’t be. Not really.”

“Did Hera curse Echo? Did Apollo turn Daphne? All of these things should cease to be made possible to the ordinary mind, and yet they are very much real.” Quintus lowered his gaze to the cardboard cup and flicked it, so it went rolling off the edge. It bounced once on the ground, and rolled to your feet. You looked at it and up again to Quintus.

“Quintus quite literally means ‘the fifth’, in Latin. My fifth body. I mean, come on, sister, you’re smarter than this! It’s been right in front of your face this whole time!”

You gagged. “Don’t call me that. I’d never be related to something as unnatural as you.”

“If you really are Daedalus,” input Percy. “Why did you come to our camp? What’s the point?”

Quintus shrugged, not bothered. “To see if you were worth saving.” Your eyes widened and hardened. “Luke had given me his version. I wanted my own.”

Percy laughed without any humour. “So you have talked to him. Luke.”

He hummed. “Many times, yes.”

“So what conclusion did you come to?” You butt in. “Save innocent people or let the world burn?”

Quintus smirked, and rolled his shoulders. He whistled loudly. “Wow! A poet in the making.” Your cheeks burned. “If you must know, I didn’t come to any conclusion.”

“Then let us persuade you instead. Don’t let Luke through the maze. Don’t let Kronos take over.”

Daedalus hummed and twirled his sword at his side. He watched the glow of the wings bounce off its surface. “The maze cannot be controlled.”

You scoffed heavily, and sidled slowly around the table, closer to Percy. Close enough that your sides were touching totally, you reached your hand around his back while Quintus wasnt looking, and dug your fingers into Percy’s front pocket, at his hip. His sword, in pen-form, sat waiting for you.

“So you can’t control your own creation?” You drawled. “What sort of inventor are you?”

He hummed a short laugh, low in his throat. Raising his eyes, Quintus stilled, an expression on his face like he’d been caught out, but sly. “An old one. I’ve cheated death for over two-thousand years. Don’t get me wrong, children, I want to help you. I feel, what you might call, guilty, even.”

You grit your teeth.

“Then help us,” Percy demanded. “Give us Ariadne’s string. Don’t let Luke have it.”

“Yes, that. I told Luke, I told him. I said, the eyes of a clear-sighted mortal are his best bet. But he didn’t listen. Insisted on having it. And it works,” he nodded. Quintus leant his hip on the table. “Oh, it works. Perhaps not as well as your red-headed friend out there, but it is effective.”

Percy pleadingly held his hands out, taking a step forward. “Then, let us have it.” He asked. “Please. Don’t give it to Luke.”

Quintus then sighed, but he didn’t sound particularly guilty. “I’m afraid you’re too many hours too late.”

Riptide materialised at your side, the tip of the sword just touching the ground where your hand bumped your thigh, grip tight. You shook your head, and laughed mirthlessly.

“See,” you kissed your teeth. “That’s not what’s happening here. You’re going to get it back. Because what else did we take this quest on for?”

“What would my reason have been for preventing this? Besides, I never agreed for you all to do this.”

“You didn’t object to it!” You exclaim, raising the sword swiftly in Quintus’s face. The sharp tip of it lands on his cheek, cutting a straight line vertically. Oil poured from the wound, gold. “Back at camp, when you agreed to let me lead this quest. You didn’t object. And I think that it’s because, deep down somewhere, there’s a part of you that wants this all to end. That’s why you agreed to let me come down here in the first place. Otherwise, what was it for? You don’t want the Titans to take over, you just want it all to end. You’ve gotta be pretty tired after two-thousand years. If you just let us stop this! You’re going to let Luke and Kronos kill thousands of people all for the sake of peace and peace of mind?! You’re going to let them take over everything, end the gods, and for what? You’re going to bring down the whole world to get what you want? Well, I’m sorry—I don’t let selfish, bigoted men rule, here.”

“Here’s the thing. Kronos has offered me freedom. I don’t have that at the moment. Allowing the two of you to get what you want would set back so much. Understand this; sometimes, what we want isn’t always the right thing. The Gods have ruled for too long. Ignored things for too long. Kronos is going to fix it all. Mark my words. When he comes to power, I can be with my son again in the afterlife. Kronos will banish Hades. And I will no longer be running from death.”

“Death is the most natural part of life,” you shake your head. “There’s no avoiding it, for anyone. You’re really going to let millions of people die just to get what you want? The whole world.”

He nodded. The point of the sword dug into his cheek, though he scarcely noticed. “Your cause is doomed. End of. There’s no way anybody can fight off Kronos, even if we wanted to.”

“Pessimist,” muttered Percy.

The floor suddenly began to shake. Lightly at first, and then violently enough for the tables to begin to shake. Quintus threw a lazy look at the upper level.

“I would be on my way, were I you. They’re coming. And you are ill-prepared.”

You slowly lowered Riptide but held it between yourself and Percy, and Quintus. “That’s it. You’ve made up your mind.”

He nodded firmly. “I have.”

“You’re a disappointment to the world.” Percy snapped. “We won’t forget that.”

Quintus waved his hand to another door on the opposite wall, to your right. “Well,” he said. “It’s a good job you won’t be around for long enough to care. Enjoy the rest of your days, demigods.”

So what else was there to do, you wondered. Percy took you by the hand and led the way, gritting his teeth and not looking back. Was it the thought of your wasted journey, perhaps? The losing little Nico in a maze of whose creator couldn’t give a shit? Or maybe, the thought of impending doom.

You wandered through the dark for a few seconds, until you missed a step and free-fell in the dark, screaming. You let go of Riptide to grab on to Percy’s other hand, a mess of limbs in the darkness, until that darkness turned into a stream, and you found yourself heading straight for a lit tunnel that opened up to the Hudson. Percy tried to take the brunt of the fall, trying to turn you midair, but ultimately failed. Winded, you fought your way to the surface with Percy’s help, until you came up coughing on the bank, freezing cold.

“What now?” Percy pulled himself from the water, shaking his head like a dog. River water struck your face. You glared at him.

“Sleep on it?” You thought, angrily. “It’s late. Got to be. But if we leave it another night, things’ll only get worse.”

Percy sighed, digging his hands in his pockets. It didn’t look comfortable. His hair was stuck to his face. “We can’t go around the city like this. Let’s sleep on it. We’ll go back to my place. I’ll find out where Rachel is. She might know how to help us.”

Rachel. You didn’t say anything, sure your face was telling all, but nodded your head.

Sally Jackson had the most normal reaction to your situation. As a mom to a demigod, she’d probably seen and heard more than she let on in her life. Upon answering the door, and Percy’s incessant knocking, you watched Sally’s eyes widen for a fraction of a second, before softening, and sighing.

“Come on,” she yawned, stepping back and rubbing her eyes. “Get in.”

Admittedly, despite the warmed-up cookies and a warm spot on the couch, you couldn’t fall asleep. Dressed in an old pair of Sally’s pyjama shorts and tee, wrapped around a spare duvet in starry sheets, you found yourself blinking with sore, tired eyes at the glow-in-the-dark stars on the ceiling. There weren’t many left up there; glue residue telling tales of fallen plastic stars. They made you think of Zoe Nightshade, and so you rolled over, curled up, and listened to the hum of the refrigerator until you fell asleep.

this is short. and overdue. short and overdue. short and…you get the idea.

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