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minty-mumbles · 3 days ago

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Bull Horns and Webbed Hands (Ch. 1)

Summary: Since Percy became an instructor at camp, he knew first hand how stressful it was to be in charge of the health and safety of over a hundred demigods. Which was why he offered to travel to Olympus in Chiron's place to give the Olympians the monthly camp status report. All he had wanted to do was give Chiron the day off. He hadn't planned for anything exciting happening. He certainly hadn't planned on accidentally adopting the Ophiotaurus while he was there. As usual, nothing ever goes as planned for Percy Jackson.

A/N: My first Percy Jackson fanfiction! AKA I think Bessie is an absolutely adorable, totally underutilized character (His AO3 tag only has 16 fics as of me posting this, which is criminal)

(Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Read on AO3)

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The monthly status report on Camp Half Blood had been going well. Chiron had coached Percy on how the report usually went, and he was well acquainted with the finer details of how the camp was run nowadays. He’d always been highly involved in the happenings at camp, and since he had become a permanent instructor several years ago, he’d become even more knowledgeable.

A few members of the Olympian council might have been pressing him harder and asking more questions about camp than they usually would have asked Chiron, but he hadn’t faltered under their scrutiny. He knew it was a test to see if he was really capable, and unlike the other times the gods had tested him, Percy didn’t mind too much.

He’d also managed to keep all of his sharper comments to himself, which was impressive for him. His relationship with most of the gods had gotten a lot more civil over the years, even to the point of friendliness in many cases, but there were still a few he would fight if given half the chance.

He'd nearly finished his report when he was interrupted by the sound of a strange squeal and the sound of wet feet slapping loudly against bare marble approaching him quickly. The unexpected noise made Percy, who was already on edge after being grilled by the council for the past hour, instinctively tense up and reach for Riptide.

Logically, he knew that he couldn’t be in any true danger. He was standing in the throne room of the gods. No monster could possibly make their way all the way through Olympus without being spotted and killed on sight.

Even if one had somehow managed to sneak through the city, the gods wouldn’t allow it to kill Percy. Having a hero of Olympus attacked and killed in their own throne room by a lowly monster would be very embarrassing.

So Percy knew it probably wasn't a monster running at him, but he hadn't gotten this far in life as a demigod by not taking potential threats seriously.

He spun around with Riptide already in his grasp. Despite his fast reflexes, he didn’t have time to uncap his sword before a figure no taller than his waist barreled into his legs and clung to him with a tiny cry of “Percy!”

The familiar feeling made him drop his sword and immediately switch from ‘potential threat running toward me’ mode to ‘small child hugging me’ mode. He was more than used to being clung to by young children, thanks to Estelle and the younger kids at camp.

After a second to collect himself and relax his tensed muscles, Percy ran his hands through the kid’s thick hair, gently coaxing them to release him and take a step backward so he could get a good look at them and maybe get a clue as to why on earth they were in the throne room.

The kid was probably five years old, maybe a little younger given how small they were. They wore a white tunic that was cinched around the waist with a golden rope, and no shoes. The tunic was completely soaked with water. In fact, the entire kid was strangely wet. Their skin was a shade or two darker than Percy’s own, and their long black hair tumbled down their back in gorgeous curls. The bangs curling on either side of the kid’s face were pure white, a shock against their dark complexion.

Percy was confused and slightly disturbed by how similar the kid looked to himself. He’d seen the baby pictures his mother had of him, and this kid could have been his twin, if Percy had grown out his hair and been forced to take the weight of the sky at the ripe age of four. A thought grew in the back of his mind that if he ever had children, they might look similar to this child. Percy did his best to ignore the thought, even though it filled him with warmth.

The only differences were the fact that this kid was clearly not human, and their eyes.

Percy also wasn’t human, but you would be hard-pressed to tell from simply looking at him. By contrast, this kid reminded him more of young satyr kids than human children. Two curved cream-colored bull horns poked out of the child’s curls. They were just barely visible, but already sharp and dangerous.

Their fingers ended in hard nails, too blunt to be claws but too hard to be normal. Their hands were webbed, and Percy could see slits that were clearly gills on the sides of the kid’s neck. He would bet anything that if he were to take off the kid’s tunic, he would find matching slits on the sides of their torso. Their feet were covered in iridescent black scales that trailed up their calves and disappeared before they reached their knees.

And then there were the eyes. Staring up at him from a sweet face were two beautiful chocolate brown eyes that made Percy want to melt into a puddle. Their pupils were horizontal, which Percy was so used to after years of looking at satyrs that he almost didn’t notice.

But those eyes were familiar. He’d seen them, not thirty minutes earlier, in fact, when he’d stopped to say hello to Bessie before the gods officially convened for council.

Percy gasped in realization.

“Bessie?” The whispered word echoed through the utterly silent throne room.

He felt stupid for even suggesting it, but a quick glance at Bessie’s aquarium showed no sign of the creature, there was a trail of water leading from the tanks to where the child was standing, and the eyes that stared up at him from the child’s face were hauntingly familiar.

The little boy nodded vigorously at him, seemingly incredibly pleased that Percy recognized him. He raised his arms in the universal demand to be picked up, and Percy complied entirely on autopilot, picking the kid up from under his arms and hoisting him up onto his hip.

A long moment of silence stretched on as everyone in the room processed what was happening. “Ah,” Percy said, lacking anything better to say, “I… did not know you could shapeshift.”

“I didn’t either!” The boy wiggled with excitement. “I’ve never gotten this big before, so I never had the chance to try!”

That thought smothered any happy feelings fluttering in Percy’s chest as he clutched the child tighter.

Right. Bessie had never had that chance to grow up before, because every time he’d been reborn, the gods had hunted him down and slaughtered him before he could be sacrificed in a bid to overthrow them.

Percy was suddenly hit with the memory of the first time he’d met Bessie, and how the Ophiotaurus had flinched away from Riptide. He’d been so panicked he’d gotten himself even more tangled in the fishing net he’d been caught in. The thought of any child being so afraid of weapons even when they weren’t being brandished threateningly made Percy burn with anger at the gods.

Anger at the gods wasn’t a foreign feeling for Percy, but not something he could indulge in right now. He was standing in front of the Olympian council, holding a child who needed his protection. He couldn’t afford to get angry, not when it was more than his own safety at stake.

The gods had nearly killed Bessie only a few years before. The fact that Bessie could now shapeshift into a human was a strange new development. He was clearly no longer a mindless beast, if he ever was to begin with, and he could act independently. It was something no one had expected and it was entirely possible it would make the gods reconsider their decision to not kill him.

Percy wouldn’t let them do that. He’d fought against the idea years ago, and he would fight even harder now. This wasn’t a random sea creature anymore. This was a child. A clearly sentient child. If the gods dared to debate on whether or not to kill him in front of Percy, he was going to do something drastic.

The thought of the gods made Percy realize that none of them had said a single word since Bessie had appeared. He looked up toward the thrones, not sure what to expect, but it definitely wasn’t what he found.

The gods, every single one of them, looked frozen in varying degrees of shock. Apollo’s mouth was hanging open in a rather ungraceful manner, his sunglasses falling down his nose to expose eyes wide in surprise. Artemis’ expression mirrored the sun god’s with such precision it forcibly reminded Percy that the two of them were indeed twins, despite their differing personalities. Athena had gone completely still on her throne and the only sign she was alive was her wide-eyed gaze tracking Bessie’s every move.

Poseidon was no exception to the shock, staring openly at Percy and Bessie as if they’d both grown second heads. Although Percy supposed Bessie had technically just grown a human head, so that wasn’t totally out of line.

Which, hold on-

“Do you like the name Bessie?” Percy asked, just to make sure. He’d given the name to the little mer-cow before he’d known the creature was sentient- or that he would eventually shapeshift to have a human-ish form, holy shit- and it was a girl’s name. Not that it being a girl’s name mattered, not really, but he’d rather ask.

Bessie blinked up at him innocently, eyes impossibly wide. “Why wouldn't I like it? It’s my name!”

“Fair enough,” Percy muttered, once more very distracted by the strange feelings welling up inside of himself as he stared into Bessie’s wide brown eyes. Protectiveness, possessiveness, love.

The feelings themselves weren’t all that strange. He’d felt similar things for the children at camp, and his friends and family. Percy had always loved quickly and possessively. Once he decided someone was his- his friends, his family- he would defend that person to the death, do anything for them. He suspected that was something he got from his father, who was known to be possessive and overwhelming in his love.

The emotions hadn’t come from nowhere- he’d always been fond of the Ophiotaurus, but the sight of Bessie in his arms made them swell in intensity. The only time it had come close to the intensity he felt now was when he’d met Estelle for the first time.

‘Is this what it feels like to be a father?’ Percy wondered hysterically. Oh gods, did this mean he was effectively Bessie’s parent now? (The kid definitely looked enough like him to be his kid. Which was baffling… Why did Bessie look so much like Percy?)

The Ophiotaurus was supposed to be one of a kind, so Percy doubted there was a mama mer-cow anywhere out there. Certainly, none of the gods would have any sort of parental claim on the child after all they’d done to him. And Percy had been who the Ophiotaurus had sought out initially, back on the quest to rescue Artemis. He’d also responded to Thalia, but it had been Percy he’d followed in the end. He had even listened when Percy had told him to return to the Long Island Sound with Grover.

And now, the first time he’d gained a human form, he’d run straight to Percy.

Fuck, was Percy a dad now? He wasn’t prepared to be a dad! He was a college dropout who worked a dangerous job as a sword instructor at a camp for demigods, and he still- for all intent and purposes- lived in one of his dad’s houses since he still slept in Cabin 3.

Recently, Percy had realized he wasn’t willing to bring children into this world when they would be in constant danger from monsters. Even if he raised his children in New Rome they’d be required to join the Legion, which would put them in danger anyway. If he adopted a mortal child, they would still be endangered from the monsters that came after him, and they wouldn’t be able to protect themselves with the mist veiling the truth from their eyes. He’d always wanted to have kids, but if he’d been forced to conclude he wouldn’t be able to have any in good conscience. He’d consoled himself with being able to look after the younger kids at camp and soiling Estelle rotten, even if it wasn’t the same.

But now, here was a child who was clearly already attached to Percy and had no one else to care for them. A child who would already be targeted by monsters, regardless of what Percy did. A child who needed him.

Fuck, was he seriously considering adopting the Ophiotaurus? Annabeth was going to be so disappointed that he’d adopted a child with no prior planning…. But if Percy was going to adopt a child, this seemed like the most likely way he’d go about it. He’d never been one for planning ahead.

Percy didn't realize he’d been staring Bessie directly in the eyes until the child broke eye contact and started to kick, pointing down at the ground insistently. “Put me down now!”

“Put me down now, please,” Percy corrected him absently, the response automatic.

Bessie dutifully echoed him, and Percy let him down. The child took off running immediately, and Percy nearly started after him, before stopping. It wasn’t like he could get lost anywhere in the throne room, and Percy was a little curious about where the kid was heading.

Bessie made a b-line towards the hearth, which made everyone in the room startle, including Percy. Everyone knew what the consequences of Bessie burning were.

Thankfully, Bessie slowed down well before he got to the edge of the hearth. He approached the edge slowly but clearly filled with curiosity. The child crouched at the edge of the hearth, which was burning low today, but still warm and welcoming.

Percy suddenly realized that Bessie had spent most of his short life on Olympus, trapped in the tank Poseidon and Hephaestus had built for him. It wasn’t a bad environment; Poseidon wouldn’t have stood for a sea creature getting a less than adequate enclosure.

But that was just it. It was an enclosure meant for an animal, not a child. Percy couldn’t comprehend how Bessie must be feeling right now. Overwhelmed, most likely, but still insatiably curious about everything he’d been able to see but never explore over the years.

Bessie reached out a small clawed hand- gods, he was so small- and pressed his hand to the bricks that made up the side of the hearth.

In a flash that made Percy instinctually cover his eyes to shield himself from the sigh of a god appearing, Hestia was sitting at the hearthside, not far from Bessie. The child made a sound of surprise that sounded suspiciously like a moo, shying away from the newly appeared goddess.

Percy hadn’t expected to see Hestia today. He’d known she’d been in the throne room for the entire meeting, but she hadn’t taken on a physical form. From what Percy had seen over the years, this was typical for the goddess. Hestia seemed content with her decision to give up her seat on the council to Dionysus. She stayed out of the meetings and didn't interfere unless there was a great need for her to intervene.

But she was here now, looking like a young girl like she typically did. Hestia smiled at Bessie. When that caused Bessie to shy away even more, her smile flattered slightly, and she turned her attention toward Percy, who had been watching the interaction like a hawk. They locked eyes, and Hestia’s smile returned with full force. Percy thought Hestia looked incredibly pleased and a little bit smug as she drew her long veil closer around her.

There was no time to contemplate what the goddess might be thinking, as Bessie seemed to have enough of having the goddess so close to him. He slowly inched away until he had put some distance between them, then turned and ran away.

Straight toward Poseidon.

The rest of the gods seemed to have gotten over their collective shock, but that didn’t stop Poseidon from twitching as Bessie ran as fast as his little legs could carry him toward the sea god.

Only Percy’s trust in Poseidon allowed him to let Bessie continue doing whatever he was doing.

That newly blossomed and fragile trust in his father was something born from several trips to Atlantis which allowed him to spend more time with Poseidon than ever before. Actually being able to sit down and talk about the events of the two wars had cleared a lot of the tension between the two of them.

Percy had learned exactly how much Poseidon cared for him. The god had even declared Percy a prince of Atlantis, further proving to the demigod that his father was serious about the fact that he wasn’t going to drop Percy as soon as he was no longer useful in fulfilling a great prophecy or two.

It was Percy’s trust in the position he held in his father’s heart that allowed him to hold back from calling for Bessie to return to his side. He wouldn’t come to any harm by Poseidon’s hand, at least.

Bessie continued straight on, ignoring Poseidon and ducking around his legs to get to the throne, giggling with quiet awe-filled joy as he carefully inspected the barnacles and sea stars that encrusted the legs of sea god’s throne.

Thankfully, he didn’t try to touch it. Percy might have been able to sit on his father’s throne, but he doubted Bessie would be able to handle that sort of raw power coursing through him, and that was if Poseidon didn’t kill him for daring to touch in the first place.

‘I would die for you,’ Percy thought suddenly as he watched the kid crouch to examine a colorful piece of coral. The intensity of his thoughts startled him, but he didn’t find himself wanting to take them back. ‘‘I would kill for you. I’d fight the gods themselves if I had to,’ he thought very intently in Bessie’s direction, as if it would allow the boy to read his mind.

His dad made a strange, strangled coughing noise, and at least half of the council shifted uncomfortably. Percy was once again reminded of his audience, and of the fact that gods could read minds. He winced- he really didn’t need to give the council any more reasons to want him dead.

Thankfully though, none of them looked particularly murderous at the moment.

Hera was staring in Poseidon’s direction, but didn’t seem too upset. Demeter‘s eyes were closed as if she were trying to block out the world, and she looked incredibly… Long-suffering was probably the best way to describe it. Hades had looked even worse, his head in his hands as if nursing a blossoming headache.

A gleeful look had overtaken Ares’ face, which made Percy incredibly wary. He would have to keep an eye on the war god. If Ares thought he could use Bessie to get to Percy, he was sorely mistaken. Thankfully, Aphrodite had turned to glare her lover down. He looked cowed, at least for now.

The gods’ reactions made Percy feel strangely nervous. He’d never cared very much about their opinions of him before, since several of the gods in this room had been trying to kill him since before he even knew they existed, but this was different.

“Bessie,” he called quietly. “Come back over here, please.” Bessie obeyed, running back over to him and demanding to be held again. Percy obeyed. The child was a strange mix of hyper and clingy, flipping easily between clearly wanting to run around and see everything, and wanting to be held at all times.

“I wasn’t done looking!” Bessie complained when he was in Percy’s arms, but didn't seem too upset.

Hera finished glaring at Poseidon and cleared her throat, drawing everyone’s attention to her. “I believe,” she said, sounding like she was forcing herself to not scream, “That perhaps Perseus should take the child out of the room so we may discuss this new… development.”

That sounded like an excellent idea to Percy, especially since Bessie had flinched and cowered into his chest at the sound of the goddess’ voice. But of course no one asked him what he thought.

“I will not allow the boy to take the creature away,” Zeus rumbled in response.

“Bessie is clearly not a creature anymore,” Percy protested, only to be largely ignored.

“It would be unwise,” Athena agreed.

“Don’t be obtuse, husband,” Hera snapped at Zeus. “They won’t be allowed to leave the mountain. We must discuss this, and having the child in the room would be unwise.”

This last part was said derisively in Athena’s direction. Hera didn’t say having Percy in the room would also be unwise, but everyone could hear the implication, even Percy himself. A moment before he’d been all for leaving the room as soon as possible, but this made him hesitant to leave. If they were deciding Bessie’s fate then Percy wanted to be there to speak in the kid’s defense like he had the first time.

On the other hand, Percy knew what it was like to hear the gods debate whether or not you should die, and the last thing he wanted to do was subject Bessie to that.

His conflict must have been obvious on his face.

“Go,” his father’s voice echoed in his head. Percy met his father’s eyes and saw understanding there. “Take the child away from here. I will do my best to protect him.”

Percy wanted to protest that that wasn’t good enough, but before he could, his father’s voice came again.

“Percy,” His father sounded amused, even in his head. “I was able to prevent his destruction before, was I not? He is yours, so therefore he is mine. I will not allow harm to come to him if it distresses you so. Trust me, my son.”

An ancient, possessive part of Percy wanted to preen at his father acknowledging Bessie as his, but he refrained. He didn’t know what was going to happen in the next few hours, let alone the coming days and months. He shouldn’t be getting attached to the child so fast. The longing that had hit him so swiftly should’ve been alarming, but for some reason Percy couldn’t bring himself to care.

Maybe it was the fact that Bessie looked so much like Percy. Maybe it was the fact that Percy could recognize himself in Bessie, as a child who the gods had tried to kill before, and was still in active danger of being killed now.

Whatever it was, Percy couldn’t shake the feeling of possessiveness that had come over him, and he didn’t want to. Bessie was his.

He gave an awkward bow, hindered by the squirming child in his arms, and then turned to leave the room as quickly as he could. As he had half expected he would be, he was stopped by Athena objecting once more.

“I agree that the Ophiotaurus would not be in any danger from the boy, but there are plenty of others who would be tempted, even on Olympus.” She was leaning forward in her throne, eyes still trained unnervingly onto where Bessie was nestled in Percy’s arms. She looked too much like an owl who had locked onto their prey and was trying to figure out the best way to go in for the kill.

Hera waved a hand dismissively. “Perseus has proven to be more than capable of holding his own in a fight.”

Even against a god, went unspoken. Ares’ expression soured, and Hades, who had finally lifted his face from his hands, just looked exhausted. Neither of them reacted any more than that, though.

Athena sat back in her throne, seeming to concede the point. Percy felt himself relax slightly now that he was no longer pinned under her gaze. Zeus also seemed to have bent to his wife’s will, as he said nothing more. “Go,” his father urged him mentally once again, and this time Percy listened immediately, leaving before any of the other gods could come up with another reason to protest.

#Technically a self reblog since I'm reblogging some of the posts from my old greek myth fandom blog to this one #mint's fanfiction #percy jackson and the olympians #pjo hoo toa #bessie the ophiotaurus #percy jackson #accidental baby acquisition #rrverse #pjo poseidon #fluff #pjo athena #pjo bessie #pjo hera #pjo zeus #pjo #rr verse

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