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valcalico · 3 years

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Athena and Ares

(Just my thoughts on them and their relationship)

I have a lot of feelings about these two. They have a very complex dynamic, where they don’t really like each other, but they can’t work without each other either.

Athena provides rationality to the cruelty of war. She is the strategy and logic behind it. The objective. One might say she represents the generals, and the politicians and the main heroes. Basically the big players.

And Ares? He’s the opposite. He represents the emotion associated with war. He is the bloodlust and the desperate fight. Where the battle is thickest, where there is no room for thought, and when its pure survival instinct that drives you, that’s Ares. He represents the worst parts: the blood and the violence and the cruelty. He is accompanied by fear and terror (Phobos and Deimos). One might say he is the god of soldiers.

So they need each other. If they actually worked together, they’d be one of the dangerous forces ever, even in god circles. But they don’t. Not only because of how differently they view the world, but also because of deeper nuances in their relationship.

Athena is beloved. She is Zeus’ favourite child and his right hand goddess. The people love her. She is the patron of one of the most powerful, influential cities, Athens. She is highly respected everywhere else too. A protector of heroes and a friend to humanity.

Ares, on the other hand, is disliked by many. Zeus says he is “the most hateful of all gods” and says he would have thrown him into Tartarus if he wasn’t his and Hera’s son. (Its in the Iliad) (This part always makes me sad poor ares) He is highly respected in Thrace and Sparta. But Athens dislikes him and worships him out of necessity only.

Even in modern times, Athena is considered a feminist icon and badass lady, while Ares is labelled a brute.

Most people know this. So why did I just type out all that? Cause context is important when delving into the myths.

So first of all, let’s debunk that last point I made. In the ancient myths (and I’ll try not to include romans esp. Ovid), it didn’t work that way at all. Of course it’s important to keep in mind that ancient Greece was very misogynistic. But still, Athena was not feminist at all. Her being a “masculine” woman (mostly) was what made her so acceptable to Athens and she was regularly used to shut down other women. Also:

(The actual translation of this scene was circulated a while back. So you’re probably familiar with this. Also I’m not saying this to offend any worshippers of Athena or anyone who admires her. There are a lot of bad things in greek mythology and Athena’s internal and external misogyny is probably the least of my concerns. Plus if the greek gods did exist, i believe they change with the society, so they will no longer be Like That in the present day.)

Ares, on the other hand, was incredibly feminist, especially for that time. He surrounded himself with women he loved and respected. (Aphrodite, Eris, Enyo, etc). His lovers were often famously women who challenged the status quo (Otrera, Cyrene). He was regularly show to be a good father to all his daughters, immortal and mortal. (Harmonia, Hippolyta, Penthesilia, Alkippe). Also:

If that isn’t the coolest thing EVER-

Anyway, I won’t delve deep into that (well, any more than I’ve already rambled about it).

Now that we have gotten that out of the way, we can get to the hypotheticals.

I headcanon that despite ALL the evidence to the contrary, they maybe don’t despise each other completely. I see them having more of a love-hate relationship.

The thing is, gods are very contrary creatures. Zeus and Hera’s fights shake the world one moment, and in the next, they are as loving as any. Apollo is smiling and singing in one moment and skinning a satyr alive in the next. This complexity should be given this relationship too.

Like I said above, they need each other. Both general and soldier are equally important in war. And I don’t think you can completely truly need someone and hate their existence at the same time. (There are exceptions)

This scene in the Iliad really got me thinking:

If you take the scene at face value, this is probably not something to think too much about. Its Athena going to Ares, insulting him a bit, and taking him away from the war.

But its more than that. First off, Athena goes upto Ares and can calmly convince him to listen to her. Second, look how she frames the question. She says “shall we” which i think is pretty important. Athena doesn’t need to worry about Zeus’ anger or his rules, as she shows later on in the Iliad, and before, during the Rebellion. Both Athena and Ares knows this well. So why does she also need to withdraw? She can make the point without adding herself to the equation. She can also fairly easily run him off the battlefield like she does later. But she doesn’t. And there isnt any hostility from Ares.

Instead, they go together, away from the battlefield and...sit down near a river bank? Basically relax as much as they can? That doesn’t sound like a hateful relationship.

There is also the fact that Ares was going to join sides with the greeks (aka on Athena and Hera’s side) until Aphrodite convinced him to join her instead.

Its clear from this that Ares doesn’t really have much of a stake in this fight. He doesn’t care much about the greater objectives of the war. The only thing that can convince him to take a side is the people one the sides. He fights for the people he cares about, not for any greater good. He easily changes his loyalty because of his love for Aphrodite. He frequently gets into fights to save his children. He goes against Diomedes partly because of how he wounded Aphrodite. All of this means that he cares for Athena too. (And for Hera ofc). Maybe he doesn’t care for her as much as he cares for Aphrodite, but its not really fair to expect him to.

I like to think they genuinely do care for each other a great deal, they just kinda suck at showing it. Maybe that changes as time passes. I can see Athena being quietly protective of Ares (maybe she makes up an excuse to send him away during the Rebellion because she knows he will be in danger otherwise). I definitely think she felt a little guilt (guilt, not regret) at stabbing Ares, seeing as it wasn’t really fair. Ares didn’t know she was there.

I also think that Ares, who spends a lot of time with awesome women and is very fierce in standing up for them if the need arises, will be the one who calls her out a lot of the time on her misogyny or hypocrisy. Athena also has a habit of suppressing any “vulnerable” emotion. She likes to keep all her guilt, sadness, fear, hurt, and regret all locked up tight. I feel like Ares is one of the few people she lets a few of those emotions out around, even if she still tries not to. And in the lighter moments, in private, maybe they joke around a bit and laugh, too.

Okay, now for the heavier bit. While i do think they care for each other, there is also a lot of resentment there. A lot of it, unfortunately, comes from how they are treated by their peers and elders. They like different people, they are liked by different people and they are liked to different degrees. Let’s talk about 3 of the main players.

1) Zeus. Does this surprise you?

I do think Zeus loves all his kids. He doesn’t like some of them, but he does love all of them. And he isn’t as bad of a father as everyone thinks. People have discussed that better so I’ll not rant about it here.

All that aside, he definitely has favourites. Athena is his favourite child (Apollo, I think, being his second). And this favouritism is SUPER OBVIOUS. Its like none of the rules apply to Athena, which is weird considering Zeus isn’t forgiving of those who defy his authority (did someone say Prometheus?)

Ares, on the other hand, is on the other side of the spectrum. The one Zeus dislikes the most.

We can see how this affects them in several instances. The most notable is probably in the Iliad, after Athena deceitfully stabs Ares and forces him to flee to Olympus, injured.

Ares calls Zeus out on his favouritism. He says that gods weren’t allowed to fight each other and if it were anyone else, they would have been punished. He says Zeus always does this, always lets Athena get away with everything, and that he needs to start getting his daughter under control.

Zeus doesnt like this too much and basically tells Ares to stop whining and that he isn’t much better when it comes to destruction. He says Ares is the most hateful of all gods and loves bloodshed. He says he would have gotten rid of him if he weren’t his son, but seeing as he was, Zeus cannot bear to see Ares in pain. He then gets Ares healed.

I can definitely see how this kind of blatant favouritism from someone who should be better to Ares would affect him. Ares is the firstborn son of Zeus and Hera. He should be getting a lot of respect, as per ancient standards but instead, he is overtaken by his virgin half sister from Zeus’ previous marriage, and many bastard half siblings.

Athena being able to break rules left and right, and Ares having to be nervous about even toeing the line will cause distance between them.

This in addition to his position as a god of civil order is a reason that i think he wouldn’t want to break any rule until he deems it absolutely necessary, like if someone he cared about were in danger.

I can totally see a situation where both of them try to help a hero but Zeus orders them not to. Athena then wants to break the rules, but Ares is very hesitant about doing so. Athena convinces him, either by taunting or by calmly urging him, to go along with it. They get caught but only Ares gets punished. Ares can then truly show Athena the difference between her and everyone else.

Remember when i headcanoned earlier that Athena sends Ares away during the Rebellion? That ties into this. She knows that if they get caught, ares could get into trouble whether or not he did anything. I expect Ares will be furious about it when he returns and finds out what happened though, thinking it was just to get him out of the way, until its revealed why she did it. Then he’ll probably be super awkward.

2) Poseidon

The equal and opposite force to Zeus.

Well, maybe not equal, but quite close.

Lets start with the canon. Poseidon HATES Athena, despises her completely, and he frequently clashes with her father too. They worked together one (1) time and as a result, Athena wasnt punished while Poseidon was enslaved for years. Then there is the fight for Athens, the whole epic of the Odyssey, and so on.

Meanwhile he and Ares are actually shown to be close. Other than the Halirhothius incident, they are pretty chill. Poseidon is the one who vouched for him after the Net Thing With Hephaestus. Poseidon is also pretty cool with Aphrodite and they work together occasionally.

I think Poseidon thinks of Athena as this bratty kid of his brother, who is constantly working against him. You know that one annoying cousin you have who you try to avoid during family reunions because you KNOW you will clash? This is that, but a thousand times worse.

Meanwhile Poseidon really cares for Ares, and Ares takes fatherly affection from anywhere he can get it. Poseidon maintains a good relationship with both Aphrodite and Ares. He is closer with Aphrodite and doesnt love Ares quite as much as Zeus loves Athena, but he still cares a lot.

3) Aphrodite

It is no secret that Athena hates Aphrodite. Even when Athena warns Diomedes not to harm any god, she says Aphrodite is the exception. Athena, along with many of the other Olympians, see her as nothing but a silly, flighty, hysterical goddess.

On the other hand, Aphrodite and Ares are known for their intense love for each other, from even before her arranged marriage. They have a lot of kids together, and are shown to be close with all of them. They each have like one story of jealousy/one story where they are at odds with each other, which is pretty good for such a high-profile couple (Aphrodite curses Eos and Ares kills Adonis). They are there for each other, like in the trojan war, when Aphrodite was wounded and Ares gave her his chariot to go back to Olympus. He also changed sides very soon, just because Aphrodite asked. Athena complains about this too.

I think I wouldn’t be far off in saying that Athena is definitely resentful of how close they are, and how much sway Aphrodite has over her brother.

While Athena definitely doesn’t see eye to eye with Ares, and disagrees with his domain, she still sees him as a War God. One of her kind. And she just doesn’t see how a War God can go for someone like Aphrodite. Basically, she doesn’t think Aphrodite is, for lack of a better term, good enough for Ares, seeing as she is a Love Goddess.

Ares, on the other hand, does not want to hear anything like this. He is fiercely defensive of Aphrodite. He defends her warlike aspect (Aphrodite Areia), while everyone else tells her that she has no place in the battlefield. He sees Aphrodite as more than what people have labelled her to be. Which is why I believe (other than Eos and Adonis), they have one of the healthiest open relationships in greek mythology.

This can definitely cause animosity between Athena and Ares, because of Athena’s scorn and Ares’ temper. It can also increase the conflict between Athena and Aphrodite.

Maybe as time goes on, Athena can start seeing Aphrodite as having more depth. I certainly hope so. While they wouldn’t be best friends, I don’t see why they can’t learn to get along. This could also strengthen Athena and Ares’ bond. As long as people don’t insult her or lay their claim on her domain of Love and Beauty, Aphrodite is often very supportive. I truly think Aphrodite can help Athena overcome her misogyny, with Ares.

In conclusion, Athena and Ares have a very complex relationship. They do not simply hate each other, and neither do they have the most loving relationship. But they do care for each other. But strain can often be put on their relationship from their relationship to other people as well. Hopefully as time passes, they can overcome that, and have a healthier relationship, instead of sharing a good moment and then proceeding to fight each other for the next 500 years.

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silkhy-john · 3 years

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Let's review: parenting from the pjo olympians! (Specifically: what do they do when their children have breakdowns?)

[I'll refer to them by their Greek aspect for the headings, and Roman aspect WHEN I'm speaking of their Roman aspect. The only exceptions are gods exclusive to one or the other. Also, I'm only dealing with gods who have children (there's a technicality on this though). Sorry, kymopoleia and Hestia stans.]

Zeus

The worst of the parents BY FAR. He's neglectful, and unresponsive. He only really cares when it (the subject of his child's breakdown) threatens his image, thus his power and position.

He tells his children "Get your shit together or else..." (Apollo) and then makes a big show of being a good dad in front of others, but that's rare (Thalia's "death").

You're only in his good graces for a very short while after doing something that bolsters his image. He's never really impressed by anything you do (Jason).

He only helps you when there's something big to gain from it, but otherwise, you don't exist (everyone, with 2 exceptions).

He has favourites, and only because they make them look good. He treats them like trophies (Athena, Artemis).

Poseidon

Terrible. Second only to Zeus, really.

The true kind of neglectful; distant and makes no effort.

He only ever shows care sporadically (look at how he interacts with Percy).

He wouldn't even know if his child were having a breakdown.

Triton probably can't stand the man, but there's a power dynamic bigger than father/son between them and he can't really do anything about it.

Amphitrite, in the brief amount of time she interacted with Percy, was probably a better parental figure than Poseidon. She doesn't particularly like him. Let that sink in.

Hades

Him, Demeter, and Persephone tie for best parents.

While he clearly favoured Bianca over Nico at the start, he's grown as a parent due to actively seeking improvement.

He's willing to die on a hill with his children, and will correct them when they are wrong.

I head-canon that he and Demeter regularly get together to discuss parenting tips.

If any of his children were to have a breakdown, he'd carefully analyse the situation and very awkwardly offer heartfelt words + doing some form of activity together (he's socially awkward, happens when you're ostracised).

Gold star for Hades.

Demeter

Definitely parents the same as Hades in the significant ways.

When her child has a breakdown, she brings them loads of food, especially whole-grain stuff. They talk. They hit the farm afterwards.

She's very sure of herself.

Athena

She rarely does emotions.

If her children were to have a breakdown, she'd have a sit-down with them at the table and she'd logic through the problem.

She'd be at odds with her children who feel more deeply, but that doesn't mean she wouldn't try to meet them halfway.

Bellona

Same energy as Athena, a bit more fierce in her approach.

Aphrodite

Sometimes she feels really hard to reach for her children. She tries her hardest to compensate whenever that happens. It creates a sort of hot-cold, but that's not really accurate.

While she's not the best at parenting, I'd argue she's the best at dealing with her children's breakdowns.

She knows how to handle each one. She'll sit in a heap of blankets and watch a movie with Drew as they eat a tub of icecream.

She'll give Piper plenty of space to work on her feelings on her own, then take her out window shopping afterwards.

She's so-so.

Hephaestus

He has a hard time expressing his emotions, and isn't the most willing to do it. For his children, though, he tries.

He isn't the greatest at understanding a breakdown from the get-go, and a machine-related analogy might be needed, but once he has a grasp on the situation his advice is VERY solid.

Dependable.

Ares

Say what you're saying bluntly, no hesitation.

Are you having a breakdown? He'll take you to the shooting range, or paint-balling, or to a rageroom, just to do a (somewhat) safe violent activity. After observing how his children went about the activity, he offers advice. The subject of the breakdown normally isn't even mentioned unless ABSOLUTELY necessary.

Prefers action over words; speaks the language of the body with more finesse than he does spoken ones. A solid dad for people who have a hard time verbally expressing themselves.

Hermes

He's seen a lot, and has a pretty good grasp on a lot as a result.

He also works a lot, but he makes a great effort to be there. He's somehow always there when he's needed.

He never lacks advice for a situation, but said advice can depend on the person receiving it being at least a little hardy.

He also uses a lot of doublespeak, so you have to think over the true meaning of his words sometimes.

A great parent to pretty much any child.

Hera

Surprise, her bovine majesty appears. I know she doesn't have children of her own blood, but Riordan does give use a glimpse of how she raises someone (Leo) and how she'd treat a demigod child of her own (Jason) and I think that's more than enough.

She seems pretty strict, but that stems from being in one of the most loveless and miserable marriages of the ages. That will never change.

Surprisingly, she still manages to get her love and care across. While the relationship between her and her children might be slightly antagonistic, she does love them.

She's a firm believer in letting her children find their own path, and being there to help them when they think they're lost or defeated.

If her child were to have a breakdown, I believe she'd be super gentle and do stuff to get their spirits back up, but still give them space.

She'd also give really good advice, but always with an undertone of bitterness (again, the marriage)

Cross her child and you will be trampled by cows and smothered in goat skin.

A dependable parent, even though her marriage makes her a bit bitter.

Anddddddd I'm done. I know I left out Apollo, but that's because I can't help but think of him as a demi-demigod cause of ToA. He'd parent almost the same as Ares, but swap violence for a non-violent art of your choice.

I also wanted to discuss Janus, Hestia, Iris, and Boreas, but you know what? I'm tired. Maybe later.

Is there any other god you want me to discuss? Cause I can, just ask.

#pjo #hoo #zeus #poseidon #hades #demeter #aphrodite #hephaestus #hera #apollo #hermes #a discussiom on parenting in pjo #what is going on with me and these weird ideas in my head #athena #bellona #percy jackson

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shanastoryteller · 5 years

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Hi Shana! I'm a big fan of your work, especially your Gods and Monsters series! Speaking of, can you do a bit on Nike please? Only if you want to of course! Keep doing what you're doing and have an awesome day!

Styx knows Ares needs help.

Hades knows this. Charon knows this. Persephone knows this.Icarus knows this. Athena, Hephaestus, Aphrodite, Hera, Artemis and Apollo knowthis. Possibly everyone who’s not Zeus knows this.

But there’s only so much any of them can do.

Hades and the underworld is always a place that he can cometo, a place for him to rest. Ares will go to his brother’s volcanoes and soakhis aching muscles in the magma, Artemis finds him on the battlefield, Apolloplays him to sleep, Hera turns the tide of wars by whispering in the ears ofmothers and wives, but it’s not enough.

There’s so much war in the lives of mortal men, and Aresstruggles to shoulder it all, to endure it all.

Athena had helped the most. Having another war god to sharethe load helped, and it’s not like Athena is displeased with her increase infollowers. But the wars didn’t stop, or even end more quickly, and if theyweren’t all praying to Ares they were still praying for aid in war.

Styx wants to do something to help. But she’s tied to thisriver, to this place, and she doesn’t mind, exactly, except of course for whenshe does.

That’s okay. The underworld is where everyone ends up oneday, and there’s someone right here who can help her.

She’s not afraid to go into Tartarus. Her river flows even there,and unlike those who are imprisoned there, she can leave whenever she likes.But just because she’s not afraid doesn’t mean she likes it, doesn’t mean it’sa place she goes often.

The edges are lined with active volcanoes, and the light oftheir magma is all there is to see by.

Those titans who retain their sanity, their personhood, arein the center of Tartarus. Those on the edge are more monster than god. Theytend to eat every soul that they find that’s less powerful than they are, andStyx wouldn’t say she’s less powerful, but she is differently powerful, and shedoesn’t want to have to call out for Hades to save her.

She can’t die. She is the space between life and death, but beingconsumed by a titan isn’t something she wants to experience regardless.

Unfortunately for her, the titan she needs isn’t the type tohang around the center of Tartarus, not causing trouble. He’s right on theedge. He’s always looking to cause trouble.

Pallas is large even for a titan, standing at the sameheight as a giant, so big that Styx could stand in the palm of his hand. Hisskin is mostly intact, but it’s stretched taught over his bones, and his mouthlooks like it’s filled with jagged glass rather than teeth. “What does thegoddess of the river of the dead want with me?”

His breath comes out putrid and rotten, like something diedin it. Probably several somethings did. She wrinkles her nose. “I need tocreate a person, and I want your help to do it.”

She’s a child goddess, and she can’t bring about a child likeother goddesses can. She may be one of the oldest being of the universe, but itdoesn’t change her body, or her mind, doesn’t change the fact that in many waysshe’s just the age she appears.

Besides, even if she was old enough to conceive a child, Pallaswouldn’t exactly be her first choice.

Pallas laughs, sending more of his rotten breath into herface. “Why should I? Why me? You’re powerful enough to make a person all onyour own.”

“Any being I make on my own will be of me, will be a pieceof what I am, and that’s not what I need,” she tells him. “You are the titan godof warcraft, of battle campaigns. I want your power, and I want your domain.”

He leans over, his eyes as large as a wagon wheel and soonall that she can see. “Direct little thing, aren’t you? You still haven’t toldme why I should help.”

“Why not?” she counters. “A piece of you will be walking theearth once more, a reminder of you to fly in the face of all the gods who stolewhat you had. Why wouldn’t you want that?”

He makes a motion with his face that Styx thinks is supposedto be a smile. “And if I refuse, you’ll take it by force, is that right? Youcould take me on your own, and even if you couldn’t, Persephone could.”

It’s true. She wants to do this on her own, as much as shecan, because she doesn’t want anyone to try and stop her. But if she asked Persephoneor Hecate or Hades, or anyone else in the underworld, for help, then she’d getit. “It’ll work better if you give it willingly.”

Pallas laughs. “Very well, little girl. But remember this. Youasked me for something, and I gave it.”

He raises his hand to his mouth, bites his thumb, and holdsout his hand. Styx realizes what he’s doing just in time to summon a basin underneathit, to catch the couple drops of blood that falls from his thumb.

He’s so large that it’s enough to fill it, enough to fill abath with, even if just the idea of it makes her stomach roll.

Pallas has already turned away from her, lumbering in theopposite direction, and Styx peers down at the titan’s blood. It’s not red, butblack, the same consistency as oil. It’ll do.

She drags the basin to the edge of her river, not willing torisk any of her magic altering it by transporting it alongside her. She hasn’tdone this before, hasn’t done anything like this before, and she’s only goingto get one shot at this. Possibly two, if she makes a small person.

Now she’s grateful that Pallas lurks on the edges ofTartarus rather than the center. It makes hauling the basin to her river a muchshorter process. She can see other titans in the distance, nothing more thanhulking, dripping figures, but they don’t come too close. She wonders if it’sanother favor of Pallas’s, or if it’s just because they know that messing withher means messing with Hades, and their bloodlust isn’t quite that self destructive.

Once she makes it to her river, it’s easy enough to guidethe basin upstream, until she’s out of Tartarus but not quite back to the innermostcircle of the underworld where the palace it. It’s in one of the many in-betweenspaces that Hades and Hecate have made, because she wants to be someplace wheresomeone won’t accidentally stumble across her.

With a tug of her hands, the basin widens, doubling in size,and she uses her river to settle it on the bank of her river, make sure she’son the side of the mortal world. She buries her hand into the earth of hershoreline, the soil damp and dark, and drops it into the basin.

The blood bubbles and steams as the soil hits it, and itsmells just as bad as Pallas’s breath had. That almost makes her pause andreconsider what she’s doing, but instead she bends over to scoop up more soilin her hands to add to the basin. What’s she’s trying to make won’t comeeasily, after all, so there’s no reason to think that it’s gone wrong.

She keeps adding soil, and the smell gets worse, like sulpher,but she ignores it. She has to mix it together evenly, but she tries using astick and it just evaporated as soon as it touches the bubbling mixture.

Fine, then.

Styx plunges her hands in the mixture, ignoring the tinglingon her skin. Her waters are more corrosive then a titan’s blood, but not by much.She beats the mixture until it’s the right consistency, moldable but stillkeeping its shape, until it’s more clay than anything else, and when she pulls herarms out they’re irritated and tinged purple, but her skin is still intact.

Now for the hard part.

She’s no artist, she’s not Athena or Hephaestus, she doesn’thave an eye for beauty like Aphrodite.

“Helen,” she says, and she doesn’t use her powers often, butshe’s of this place more than anyone. She can command the dead just as well asCharon or Icarus.

There’s a ripple, and then Helen of Troy is standing infront of her, head tilted to the side. “Yes, my lady goddess?”

“Can you just,” she bites her lips, looks down at her hands,then says, “Can you just stand there?”

Helen raises an eyebrow, but says, “Yes, my lady goddess.”

Styx forms the clay into roughly the shape of a person, eyesflickering between her creation and Helen. She’s not talented, so she can’t usetalent to make this. Instead she pushes her will into the clay to make it intothe right shape, until she’s got a copy of Helen standing in front of her. It’snot exact, her mouth too wide and her nose too broad, her hips slimmer and legslonger, but it’s clearly a person, clearly a woman, and it will have to do.

“Thank you,” she says, and then dismisses Helen back to her homein the underworld.

There’s one more step to this, but she doesn’t look justright, there’s something missing.

“Icarus,” she sighs, because she’s exhausted and sore andwants to be done with this now, the whole idea had seemed much simpler in herhead.

She’s not summoning him, just calling out for him, but there’sno hesitation before he’s beside her, ink smudges on his hands and his hairaskew like he was running his hands through it. “I’m in the middle of,” he cutshimself off, and his eyes go wide. “Styx. What are you doing?”

She tells him, and he shifts his weight from side to side,nervous, but he doesn’t tell her that it’s a bad idea, doesn’t kick hercreation into her river. “She’s missing something,” Styx says.

Icarus rubs his arms, but looks into the basin, then says, “Ihave an idea.”

He’s not as resistant the effects of titan blood as she is,and he winces and curses as he works, and several times he has to take a breakto wait for the skin on his hands to grow back before he can continue. But hedoes continue, and even though it’s been so long since he’s done this, since hewas trapped in the labyrinth, his movements are easy and confident.

There’s no more clay left in the basin, and on her back aretwo large wings, just like the kind Icarus was wearing when he plunged into thesea.

It’s perfect.

“Now what?” he asks, and she stands in front of hercreation. This isn’t easy for her, to breathe life into something when death isall she knows, but she’s not just death. She’s the River Styx, the barrierbetween the living and the dead, and so she is both living and dying andneither. She breathes in, goes on her tiptoes, and then breathes out. The aircoming form her lungs is golden and sparking, and when it touches the figure’sface it spreads, until she’s a figure covered in liquid gold.

Then it all sinks in at once, the glow that’d been surroundingher gone, but she’s not clay anymore.

Her skin is dark and her hair is the same shade, curled andfalling to just below her chin. The lightest thing about her is her eyes, a softbrown.

Well, except her wings, of course.

They’re golden, unfurling from her back and spreading wide,and those soft eyes focus on her, and she says, “Hello, Mother.”

Icarus shifts on his feet, and it must be as strange for himto hear this as it is for her. “You know what I made you for?”

“Yes,” she says, because how can she not, when Styx pressedher intent into every inch of her.

“Go to Hera,” she says, “tell her. She’ll help you.”

Her creation nods, but Icarus coughs, and then in his handsis a short white chiton and a pair of sandals. “She may be more amendable ifyou don’t show up at her door naked, my lady.”

A smile curves around her lips and she takes the clothes fromIcarus’s hands. Styx is running her eyes over her, looking for any mistake, anysign that she was once soil and blood and not a goddess, but there’s nothing.

For her first time making a person, Styx thinks she’s done arather good job of it.

Her creation takes several steps back, snaps open her wings,and then is soaring into the air, flying away from them and towards Olympus.

Icarus is silent until she disappears from sight, then asks,“Are you going to tell Hades, or shall I?”

Styx gives him a reproachful look. “I really don’t think that’snecessary.

“I suppose,” he says, and Styx is relieved until he follows itup with, “It’s not like he won’t find out all on his own soon enough.”

She scowls and jumps in her river, where Icarus can’t followher and tell her true things she doesn’t want to hear.

Hera feels the moment someone dares touch her throne, andshe’s there the next moment, fury in her veins and power gathering in herhands, because whoever dares be so disrespectful of their queen is soon goingto find themselves nothing more than a pile of ash.

It’s a woman, pretty but mostly unremarkable.

Except for the huge golden wingsattached to her back.

Hera pauses, mouth open, thrown enough off kilter that thewoman has time to say, “I apologize, Queen Hera. I needed your attention.”

“You have it,” she says, and there’s power in this woman, enoughof it that if she’s here to steal herself a seat on the pantheon she just mightmanage it. How could Hera have missed this?

She steps forward, and Hera’s prepared for a threat, but shedoesn’t offer one. Instead the woman whispers in her ear, “I was created tohelp your son, my queen. But first I need you to help me.”

A goddess cannot be truly formidable, cannot consider herselfa true deity, if she doesn’t have a domain.

And she was created to have one very specific domain.

She doesn’t have the time to build it naturally, but withHera she won’t have to.

Hera will speak her name and her dominion into existence,and it shall be hers.

When she hears the details, Hera throws her head back andlaughs. There’s a grin curling her lips as Hera opens her mouth to announce herto the world.

Ares is exhausted. That’s not new, or unusual, but his limbsfeel heavy and his movements sluggish. A sword gets past his defenses and splitsopen his shoulder, and he doesn’t even have the energy to wince. This battlehas been raging for weeks, and he’s been fighting for all of it. It feels likeit’ll never end, and he can’t even slip away. The solders believe in him sodeeply, they call out his name in their sleep and give him offerings every hourof the day. No matter how badly he wants to rest, if only for a couple hours,he can’t, not when their belief pins him in place.

Then the battle begins to shift.

They’ve been struggling to hold this ground the whole time,but now they’re gaining it, pushing their opponents back, and Ares lifts hissword with renewed vigor. They’re winning. If they win, then maybe he canfinally rest.

“You’re welcome,” a voice whispers in his ear, but when he swingsaround, sword outstretched, there’s no one there. For some reason, his eyes aredrawn up to the nearest tall hill, and someone is standing there, glinting goldin the rising sun. He thinks it’s Apollo at first, but the silhouette is allwrong.

He’s beside her in the next moment, this goddess with darkskin and golden wings and an eager, greedy mouth. “Who are you?”

“I am who will soon replace you in the hearts of men,” shesays. “Not all of them, perhaps not even most of them, but many. Their beliefwill make me stronger, and I will answer more of their calls, and even more ofthem will flock to me, until I’m as powerful as you or Athena. They pray to you,but what they really want is me.”

“Who are you?” he repeats, and there’s something familiarabout her, something he can’t quite place but that puts him at east in spite ofwhat she’s saying.

She smiles, tilting her head up towards the sun. “I am Nike,the goddess of victory.”

Victory.

Victory is how wars end. Victory is how he gets a chance tocatch his breath.

All his exhaustion is gone, replaced by joy, and he liftsNike up by her hips, spinning as he holds her up in the air, her golden wingsgiving off a kaleidoscope of light all around them.

As soon as he touches her, he knows why she feels sofamiliar.

It seems he owes Styx a thank you. He wonders if she’ll takehim distracting Hades from whatever lecture he’s intent on giving her asgratitude enough.

Now that he’ll have the time to do it, after all.

gods and monsters series, part xxxi

read more of the gods and monsters series here

#gods and monsters series #styx #nike #hera #ares #greek myth #greek mythology #aaahh #it feels good to write in this series again #happyant21 #asks

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intelligentdumbass · 4 years

Text

The Golden Apple Incident but-

(Honestly writing this felt like writing a glorified shitpost, so-)

Olympus’ garden was breath-taking; bioluminescent flowers blooming under Selene’s far-reaching gaze as the immortals were having the time of their lives, drunkenly singing under the serene night sky.

Hermes couldn’t help but subtly gaze back at Apollo every now and then, who was talking with one of the muses, when someone caught him off guard by wrapping an arm around his shoulder. He instantly knew who it was the second he smelled the wine in his breath.

“Jealous?~” Dionysus wiggled his eyebrows.

Hermes scoffed. “Jealous of what?”

Dionysus motioned back to the nine sisters. Calliope had her arms wrapped around Apollo’s neck while the god had just given her a small kiss. Hermes rolled his eyes, but, oh little did he know, he was faintly blushing.

The younger brother sighed.

“Look man, if you’re going to keep this up, then you‘re absolutely hopeless. I mean, at this point literally everyone except the distracted blonde you haven’t confessed to knows that you want a piece of that-”

“Hahahaha, I have no idea what you’re talking about. Anyway, have you seen Eris? I heard she wasn’t-”

“Hey, don’t change the subject!”

“It’s not what you think! I swear I was just slightly… concerned? I don’t know, he seems a lil off and Cal can prolly sense it too-”

“Pft, excuses excuses-”

Then it happened.

The festivities were suddenly interrupted by their father’s voice thundering across the garden.

“AH-” “What’s this?!”

On his hand he held out an apple as if it was made of pure solid gold. The fruit had struck him on the nose while he was chatting with his siblings. It glimmered and sparkled under the ambient moonlight as if it was enticing all of the immortals to come and have a closer look.

“It… has something engraved onto it? Hold on-” He cleared his throat, and now all eyes were on the king.

“‘It is with my greatest pleasure to present this apple to the loveliest god of them all, a trophy that will stand the test of time, a symbol of the lord’s unrivalled beauty and allure.’”

Whispers echoed throughout the venue, jumping from ear to ear. Now, of course, Zeus would’ve gladly declared himself ownership of the gift as it was thrown at his face. However, barely had a minute passed when the apple was already gone; snatched out of Zeus’ hands by the god of love whose wings immediately threw him up into air as he curiously stared at the prize he was about to award to himself.

“Still the same old insolent piece of shit, huh?”

A golden arrow whizzed out of nowhere, fired from a silver bow and carried by the evening breeze. It narrowly missed Eros’ head and pinned the fruit against one of the trees.

Eros flew after the apple as fast as he could, but by the time he managed to grab a hold of it, there was already another hand, from the archer god himself, and neither party seemed willing to let go.

He hissed. “You arrogant bastard.”

Apollo replied with a shit-eating grin. “Oh please, look whose talking.”

There was one single thought in Hermes’ head. ‘Oh boy.’ He tried to get even closer, running to where Ares and Aphrodite were. He just had to see this.

“Wait!” Athena interrupted, as she was a teensy bit worried that those two were about to murder each other. “This all feels a little… off. We don’t even know where that apple came from-”

“Don’t know; don’t care Misses killjoy!” Eros rolled his eyes. “I can assure you that I sense no malicious auras or weird obscure magic so, perhaps this really is just a gift from some fanatic, at which I am extremely flattered-”

Apollo laughed. “Really, you?? Why on earth would anyone give this to a saucy twink who’s barely taller than Hermes?”

The messenger frowned at the mentioned of his height. Ares gave him a few pats on the back while Dionysus, Artemis and a few other gods snickered. Athena just sighed like she gave up and doesn’t want to involve herself any further. On the other hand, Zeus had stopped trying to come up with a scheme to take back the fruit the second he saw his son want it too. Still though, the way Eros’ and Apollo’s fingers twitched, almost like they wanted to break each other’s necks, was starting to get kind of concerning.

“Okay okay please calm down, both of you.” The last thing Zeus wants is someone’s ichor to be spilled in the middle of a goddamn wedding. “How about-”

“Since you’re the king of the gods, that you be the judge of whoever is deserving to have this apple?” Apollo smiled. “What a wonderful idea father!”

Eros took advantage of that brief distraction of Apollo addressing his father to take the apple and throw it towards his dear mother. “Look, I know he’s usually the one who calls all the final shots, but don’t you think it’d be more fitting to let the literal goddess of beauty decide?”

Zeus thought about it, but decided that choosing between his favorite son and the bastard that could make his libido act up again was a terrible idea. Even Aphrodite herself seemed hesitant to choose and handed the fruit over to Ares because he and Hermes wanted a closer look.

“Uhm, no. I think my very obvious biases would make me one of the least fitting judges for that matter; same goes for Aphrodite. How about… let a mortal who is not part of any of your cults decide, and to please swear not to endanger their life over this.”

The two gods gave each other a brief death glare before reluctantly agreeing to Zeus’ suggestion.

“Good. Now, where did that apple go?”

They all turned towards Ares, who didn’t have the golden fruit in his hands.

“Dad.” Eros stared. “Where’s the apple?”

“Let’s just say… I got hungry.”

There was a long pause before Eros continued.

“C-Come again?”

“I said what I said; I got hungry and that apple was right there and I got curious so, yeah. Surprisingly tasty-”

“I’m sorry,” Athena just had to interject. “But did you just admit to eating a lump of gold?!”

“Bold of you to assume that would stop the god that broke a chicken’s femur when he bit into its thigh.”

The goddess couldn’t tell if he was faking it and therefore hiding something or if he was actually very serious. Now she really did give up listening in to this conversation and proceeded to walk off to wherever Persephone and Artemis were. It was probably for the best, as it almost looked like she was losing more and more brain cells the longer this situation went on.

Apollo raised an eyebrow, but didn’t say anything. Meanwhile, Eros was struggling to process what the fuck just happened. He flew over to Hermes who was trying his best not to laugh his ass off.

“Hermes, do you have something to do with this? Did you steal it??”

“Huh? No, why the hell would I want to steal it?? I may be cocky, but not that kind of self-aggrandizing cocky. I don’t have the golden apple with me.”

Eros narrowed his eyes. “How do I know you’re not-”

“Because he isn’t, all of what Hermes just said is true.” Despite the contents of what he said being perfectly harmless, Apollo sounded like he was about to brake Eros’ back the moment he saw the god of love reach into his quiver.

Eros backed off. “Okay okay, but then what? Is that it?!”

The blonde shrugged. “It appears so.”

“Why do you suddenly act like you don’t care??”

“I mean, of course having a pretty golden apple say you’re the best is great, but in my case it’s kind of unnecessary, isn’t it? Like, duh.” There it was again, that shit-eating grin. “Honestly, it was mostly because I didn’t want YOU to have it and gods fucking forbid you use it to constantly annoy me for the rest of eternity.”

---------------------------------

Despite the incident that had killed the mood a few minutes ago, the party seemed to be back in full swing now that Aphrodite took Eros back to wherever Psyche was. It was almost like nothing had ever happened.

Hermes, however, was interested in separating himself from everyone else as far as he possibly could, and he had dragged Apollo along with him until they were deep in some obscure part of the garden.

The messenger let out a nervous laugh. “Okay I have something I need to tell you.”

“That what Ares said, even though I can definitely see him doing it just to piss me off, was a red herring and that he hid the apple somewhere before giving it back to you once Aphrodite got Eros to go away?”

“Damn, you know me too well huh?” He took off his hat, revealing the luster of gold resting on his brown chestnut hair.

The archer laughed. “I’m surprised you got him to cooperate.”

“Guess I’m just that likeable! Plus, he owed me one after distracting you for… something.”

“You what-”

The messenger grabbed the apple and placed his cap back on his head. “I didn’t steal it for myself though.” He smiled, “It is with my greatest pleasure to present this apple to the loveliest god of them all, a trophy that will stand the test of time, a symbol of the lord’s unrivalled beauty and allure.” and then offered up the prize to the surprised blonde.

Apollo accepted, mildly flustered. “Is… Is there some sort of ulterior motive to this?”

“I… suppose you could call it that.”

He sighed. “What do you want, Herms?”

“W-Well… it’s nothing big.” There was a sudden faint flush on Hermes’ cheeks. “What about… a kiss?”

The archer stared and the messenger almost started backtracking on his request but, well, the blonde cut him off before he could, with a soft peck on his lips.

#apollo #hermes #hehehe #it was hermapollo in disguise all along-#hermapollo #brofriends #golden apple #the olympians #mywritingshit #greek gods #greek mythology

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godsofhumanity · 4 years

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I have a question for yaa. How do you imagine the Greek gods? There have been many interpretations of them but i would like to know which one you prefer, or maybe if you have your own designs in mind

ooh yes my favourite type of question!! i’ll just do my favourite from the greek pantheon, but if there’s a specific god you want, shoot me an ask :)

ZEUS | pretty much the same as olympus guardian. zeus, imo, is quick to anger and when he gets angry, he really brings the storm in. he is, of course, a lover at heart, probably considers himself a romantic but hera would say he’s tacky. lots of dad jokes and puns!! likes adventure, likes pranks and has a proper sense for justice. for physical appearances, he’s always been a blonde to me, but i like the idea of him having silver/white hair, and of course, blue eyes. very muscular. old man zeus has a long, fluffy beard.

POSEIDON | only gets angry about serious things, usually pretty chill. also love jokes and puns. a bit artsy and very creative. he’s probably good at sculpting. sings sailor songs to everyone’s annoyance. a romantic. likes adventure, but not as reckless as zeus. for physical appearances, i imagine him to have dark brown hair, might have like, the softest green highlights to imitate seaweed. tanned skin, taller than zeus, and muscular.

HADES | reserved, but not shy. extremely sensible, would be the voice of reason on an adventure. content to stay at home, doesn’t get involved in drama and doesn’t care for it either. flowers and poetry kinda romantic, but only for persephone of course. can be intimidating when he wishes. for physical appearances, black hair, long. he’s either clean shaven or fully bearded- there’s no in-between. not as muscular as zeus, but still built. you would not want to pick a fight with him.

HERA | quick temper. her tantrums last about 20 minutes max. can get extremely petty when provoked. very regal, very royal. dominating presence, no one forgets that she’s a queen. also kind, and motherly when she’s not angry. genuine and forgiving. moved by acts of compassion and devotion. for physical appearances, she’s always had dark brown hair for me. it’s either long or cut to her ears. very wavy. green-blue eyes. always wears a crown, always dresses elegantly. is on the cover of vogue.

APOLLO | egotistical, charming. good at everything. chaotic romantic like his dad. will express small fits of rage through angry lyre-playing or poetry. pure rage will definitely present itself in the form of some massive, violent destruction. very confident of himself, but also encouraging of others, and good at compliments. plays pranks, loves parties. for physical appearances: blonde, long haired, half tied up, the rest flows in the wind. tanned, and well-built, but more athletic than muscular. would run around olympus without clothes if zeus hadn’t made some specific rules.

ARTEMIS | reserved, sensible. can get chaotic, but is mostly calm. loves adventure, and challenges. cannot resist competition. will oversee pranks, but probably doesn’t engage in them much. kind and generous. slow anger, but you should definitely run if you piss her off. makes flower crowns that apollo wears. for physical appearances, midnight blue hair, in a ponytail. wears a head band with a moon on it. blue/purple eyes. slender with muscles. athletic.

ATHENA | loves competitions, hates losing. never takes off her armour. unbeatable at battleship. dishes out roasts without hesitating. leader-type figure. the kind that says “you can dig your own grave” but still accompanies you anyways because she feels responsible anyhow. strong sense of justice, doesn’t really approve of pranks. for physical appearances, tanned skin, tallest goddess. athletic build, could rip a log with two hands.

ARES | looks threatening, actually just a muscular teddy bear. likes challenges, but acknowledges defeat without feeling humiliated or the need for revenge. kind, compassionate. looks in the mirror and gives himself a pep talk before going to battle. strong sense of justice. for physical appearances, very muscular, tanned skin. red hair either long or short. clean shaven almost always. kind smile.

HERMES | playful, almost childish. loves pranks, tricks and small gadgets. the type that has a fridge full of magnets from places that he’s been. finds himself getting blamed for things that aren’t his fault. instigator of fights. for physical appearances, short in height, light brown hair in a messy, short cut.

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thegoodgayshit · 4 years

Link

Luz’s mother really doesn’t want to send Luz to camp. She knows once she leaves, there is no going back. But Luz has a knack for getting into trouble, and one day she stumbles into the same type of people her mother would have preferred she avoided. After helping Luz dissolve her high school bully into dust, Eda and Lilith know right away that this kid is just like them - a child of the gods. So Luz hops on a Pegasus and heads to Camp Half-blood, where she embarks on a dangerous quest that makes her both friends and enemies... and she might even save Olympus along the way.

Chapter Four: My Shocking First Game of Capture the Flag

Cabin Eleven was the quietest she had ever seen it the next morning. They still had time before the game started at noon, but the Hermes kids seemed to be sucked deep into concentration, which was so unlike them Luz didn’t know what to make of it.

Viney was muttering strategy to herself all morning, then was stuck deep into conversation with the counselors of the Athena cabin and the Hecate cabin. Luz figured it was a good idea to stay out of it and not stress out Viney more than she already was, so she took a walk to go find Willow and Gus.

Despite her overall nervousness for the game, she was also excited to be on the same team as Willow and Gus. The three had decided they would play together, and take on whatever role their counselors gave them as a unit. They practiced together in the morning and helped one another put on their armor. They had each been given a bronze chest plate and a helmet with a blue horse plume. It weighed on Luz like a pound of bricks, and after practicing stabbing with the knife form of Aletheia for a few minutes, her muscles already felt exhausted.

Willow realized she’d forgotten her sword on her bunkbed, so she went back to her cabin to get it while Gus and Luz sat on the grass. He showed Luz his spear, which extended from half a foot long to seven feet when he swung. Luz joked that it reminded her of those toy lightsabers she had seen in Walmart with her Mami. Gus grinned at the joke, launching into a story of getting one of those from his dad for Christmas a few years ago and breaking a vase with it. The two compared some Greek stories Luz had heard before. He would pipe in now and again when she talked, telling her the truth rather than what the original story said had happened.

“So Perseus saved the princess and killed Medusa-“

“Well, some myths question Medusa’s intention. She was kind of… Poseidon’s girlfriend. A lot of demigod scholars think she just wanted to be left alone,” Gus adds, and Luz hums thoughtfully.

“I’ve never thought of it like that,” she says with a frown.

Willow walks back over to them with the sword Luz had seen when she first got showed around camp. Now that she gets a closer look at it, she realizes why Willow can’t just grab a different one from the armory. She realized it was a lot shorter than her own blade, and most of the others she had seen. It was a bronze Spartan kopis, about a foot and a half long. Waving to her as she approached, Willow’s eyes locked in on the leather strap around her hand.

“What’s that on your hand, Luz?”

Remembering her dilemma from the day before, Luz explained everything that had happened yesterday with Lilith and Amity and the magic hand buzzer.

Willow frowned, “that doesn’t sound good. Amity is a mean girl, but she’s also the best in combat, better than anybody else at camp. Even some of the Ares campers don’t hold weight to her.”

“But this is so cool!” Gus said enthusiastically at the buzzer, holding out his wrist. “Can you shock me?”

Willow slapped his hand away. “For someone in Cabin Six, you really have no brain cells.”

Luz laughed, breaking some of the tension. But she worried her lip at Willow’s words. “After I saw her tear apart that dummy I knew I was done for. If Amity meets me on the field like she promised I’m going to be slashed to pieces.”

“Well, she’s not allowed to kill you even if she wanted to,” Gus said offhandedly, still looking at the hand buzzer. “But this could definitely make your job easier.” He reached over to touch it again and Luz pulled it away quickly.

“I know Eda gave it to me, but I don’t want to use it unless I have to.” Luz murmured, still uncomfortable. “I don’t know what’ll happen to Amity, and Eda seemed to be sugarcoating it.”

“Eda would never give something to you that would seriously hurt another camper,” Willow promised, reaching over to pat Luz’s shoulder. “At most, it’ll probably give you an advantage since she has it out for you so badly.”

Gus blinked as if an idea had struck him, but before they could question it any further, Viney was making her way over to them and telling them to head over to the forest entrance. Willow and Luz started walking, but when they realized Gus was standing there still deep in thought they hesitated.

“Go ahead, I’ll meet you there,” he said with a smile. “I just need to talk to Viney for a second.”

Willow and Luz shared a look before shrugging. “Alright, well see you there,” Willow said with a smile.

By the edge of the forest, the campers had been divided into red and blue teams. Eda had announced at dinner last night the finalized divide between the different cabins. The Hermes cabin would be the blue team, hence the blue horse plume helmet, and they would be joined by Athena, Demeter, Hecate, Nemesis, Tyche, Hebe, Dionysus, and Iris. That left Aphrodite’s cabin, the red team, with Ares, Apollo, Hephaestus, Nike, and Hypnos. Luz could tell by the gathering crowds that they had numbers on their side, but Luz was pretty certain the red team had some of the camp's best fighters. Some of the Ares kids and Nike kids looked like they would be a force to be reckoned with.

Willow was shuffling through some of the weapons and other items that campers were allowed to take from. She turned around and offered Luz a bronze shield.

“Do you want it?”

Luz looked at it uncertainly. “I’ve never practiced with one. I don’t know how to use it.”

Willow nodded, tucking it over her own arm instead. “It’s smart to stick with what you know. I’m not a shield person either. I’ll give it to Gus when he gets here.”

As they waited with the other members of the blue team, Luz started fidgeting. She was getting really anxious about this whole game now. Her armor was feeling heavier and heavier, and she struggled not to let her head tilt to one side under her helmet. She ran her hands up and down her arms nervously when she saw Boscha and Amity standing together on the red team's side. Amity was already in her armor with her sword in its hilt at her side, leaning against a tree with her arms crossed, looking bored, but Boscha was busy polishing a wicked-looking four-foot bronze falcata. She caught Luz staring and paused, shooting her an evil looking grin from under her red plume helmet. Luz swallowed thickly.

“Luz, are you okay? You look kind of pale.”

She turned her head quickly to give Willow an encouraging smile. “I’m fine. Just pre-game nerves.”

Willow gave Luz a look and she knew she wasn’t buying it. Peering over Luz’s shoulder at what she was staring at, Willow makes a noise of understanding.

“Don’t worry about them, Luz,” Willow said gently, putting a hand on her shoulder. “Gus and I will be with you the whole time in case they try and team up on you. We’ll do this together.”

Luz did her best to smile confidently, even if her stomach was flipping. In truth, that did make her feel a lot better. She had been happier at camp with Willow and Gus than she’d ever had back in Manhattan, or Amherst, or Syracuse, or anywhere else she’d lived before. With them helping her, she was sure everything would be just fine.

Finally, Viney, Gus, and the other councilors from the blue team made their way to the blue side, ready to assign positions. Gus trotted up to them with an excited smile, and Luz had a feeling whatever he’d wanted to talk to Viney about was all sorted. As he approached them in his armor (that was still way too big) and his spear in hand, Willow pulled the three of them together and out of earshot from the others. Willow handed Gus the shield, which he took gratefully.

“What did you want to talk to Viney about?” She asked him, and Gus looked around nervously before shaking his head.

“Don’t worry about it. It won’t matter anyway if everything goes according to plan.”

Luz’s curiosity got the better of her and she cooed in excitement tapping her fingers together. “Ouuu… a mystery.”

Willow narrowed her eyes, clearly not in the mood for secrets. “Gus…”

“Viney asked me not to tell,” he pleaded, and Willow sighed at his expression before crossing her arms.

“Fine.”

Willow was clearly still grumpy about Gus keeping a secret, but Luz was too busy watching Viney walk around to the other Hermes campers and assigning them their position. By the time she approached Luz, she was practically vibrating from nervousness.

Viney patted Luz on the shoulder. “How are you feeling, newbie?”

Luz decided on being honest. “I’ve been better.”

Thankfully Viney just chuckled, gesturing Willow and Gus closer. “I’m positioning you three as the second set of defense on the other side of the creek. Watch for anybody crossing that might be coming from Zeus’ Fist. Gus, you have the traps?”

Gus grinned and gestured to the little pouches strapped to his armor. “Yep.”

Viney nodded turning back to Willow and Luz. “Willow, see if you can barricade the forest walls. Luz, be ready for a forward assault. Gus has the flare if you need backup.”

Luz didn’t understand any of that, but she wasn’t going to ask questions right now when Willow and Gus were nodding in serious understanding. So she just nodded along with them. Viney seemed to sense her hesitancy, and she pushed her affectionately with her fist.

“Try not to worry. We’ve got this.”

She said it with such certainty, it seemed to fill Luz with a confidence she didn’t know she had. Even Willow and Gus straightened. As she walked away, Willow exhaled with a smile.

“Those Hermes pep talks always work.”

Luz blinked at her. “What do you mean?”

“Hermes is the god of merchants, thieves, and travelers, but also the god of orators. His kids can sometimes give speeches that feel magical. That’s why Viney is their counselor, she has that gift.” Gus said with a grin, and Luz noticed just how drastically Viney’s speech had changed them. He was standing so straight that his armor almost looked like it fit him. His spear didn’t seem too clunky in his hand. Willow’s expression looked like it had hardened in preparation for the game, and even Luz’s anxiety seemed to have been replaced with solid determination.

“That’s so cool,” Luz grinned in enthusiasm. She wondered if her dad had passed along any magical abilities like that to her. So far, she was just regular Luz.

Before she knew it, everybody on her team had been given their role. A horn blew in the distance, and Luz turned towards the entrance of the forest to see Eda and Lilith standing there with King at their feet. Eda had blown the horn and was watching the gathering campers with a grin on her face.

“Welcome to our weekly game of Capture the Flag!” She said, holding up her fist, and the campers erupted into cheering. Lilith rolled her eyes from next to her sister, and Luz wondered if they’d fought at all since the incident at the arena yesterday.

“You all know the rules!” Lilith said, loud enough for all the campers to hear and quiet down. That was an exaggeration. Luz certainly didn’t know the rules, so she peered closer to absorb every word. “The creek is the boundary line. The whole forest is fair game. The flag must be prominently displayed with no more than two guards. Guards must stand at least ten years from the flag. Prisoners may be disarmed, but not bound or gagged. All magic items are allowed. Eda and I will be acting as in-game referees! There is to be absolutely no killing or maiming. Am I understood?”

There was a chorus of muffled agreement, though Luz snickered as she watched Eda roll her eyes at the long list of rules.

“Alright heroes! The game will now begin!” Eda called, blowing her horn again, causing Lilith to wince at the sound. There was a chorus of cheering as both teams began to flood into the woods, and Luz followed Willow and Gus quickly, not wanting to get lost.

As the teams approached the creek, the blue side cut north while the red headed south. Willow dragged Luz about half a mile past the creek with Gus on her heels, and the three of them ended up in a small clearing surrounded by wild plants.

“This is where Viney wants us to patrol,” she said, reaching down and drawing her sword from her belt. “I’ll work some magic on these plants and make a barricade. Luz, help Gus with the traps.”

Luz nodded, turning to help Gus unpack the small objects he had concealed in pouches on his belt. He handed one to her, and when she scooped it up rather ungracefully, he hissed in alarm.

“Be careful! These are sticky bombs I got from the Hecate campers. Too much motion will cause them to explode.”

“Oh shoot, sorry.”

Luz was considerably more careful after that. She was helping Gus stick one in the undergrowth when she glanced over in the direction of the creek where Willow was working. What she saw made her mouth drop. Willow was moving her sword and the thorny underbrush seemed to move with her. It climbed and weaved around itself, creating a barricade to their side of the creek at least a hundred feet wide. No camper on the red team was running through that.

“How is she doing that?” Luz gasped in wonder. “It that a Demeter kid thing?”

Gus looked over at Luz, a little uncomfortably. “Yes, and no. Demeter kids do have a lot of sway with plants and wild magic… but a lot of Willow’s abilities are just a Willow thing.”

Luz remembered the conversation she’d had with them when they were giving Luz the tour of camp. She wondered if this Willow magic was a part of that “technicality” Gus had mentioned.

“Well she is one powerful demigod,” Luz decided with finality.

Gus nodded in agreement. After a couple more minutes, the traps had all been set, and somewhere in the distance, Luz could hear Eda’s horn sound.

“The game’s started,” Willow said seriously, tightening her grip on her kopis. Gus straightens up and pulls his shield to his chest, gripping his spear so tightly his knuckles turn white.

Luz suddenly felt very empty-handed, and touched her hand to her ring, calling out Alethia. She gripped the leather hilt of the sword tightly, with not a moment to spare. Just as the games started, she heard yelling from the other side of the barricades as a handful of campers started slashing through the thorns to get through.

“Get ready!” Willow yelled just as they slashed through the last of the thorns and tumbled through the fresh opening. There were four enemy campers, and Luz’s heartbeat spiked at being outnumbered. Thankfully, Willow flicked her sword so roots and thorns wrapped around their ankle, tripping them to the ground. She met the next campers' sword with her own, and Gus raced forward to slam his shield against a camper wielding a spear like him.

Luz raised her sword out of instinct, and at just the right time. The sword of the last camper collided with hers immediately, and she grunted with effort to push it away. Swinging at them, the camper deflected, so Luz tried that new trick she’d learned from Eda last night and pushed forward, feeling satisfied when they stumbled backward, crying out in shock.

They looked up at her and Luz had a moment of panic when her eyes met gold ones. She thought for a second it might be Amity, but then she was hit with a wave of recognition. It was one of the twins who had been teasing Amity at the Aphrodite table her first night.

The girl seemed to recognize her too as she regained her balance and gripped her sword tightly. She gave Luz a crooked smile that Luz knew right away was trouble. “Oh, no way! You’re that new girl who keeps getting under Mitten’s skin.” Then she completely turned away from Luz to look at the camper who’d been tripped by Willow’s plant magic.

“Edric! Check it out, it’s the new girl,” she said gleefully. The camper on the floor had managed to get to their knees and cut the thorns with their sword. Luz recognized him as the other green haired twin. He stood up and brushed the dirt marks from his armor with his free hand, his mouth split into an eager grin at his twins' words.

“Seriously? What kind of awesome timing is that?” He said excitedly as Willow, Gus, and the two other red campers battled around them.

“What’s happening right now?” Luz said in confusion, lowering her sword. “Are we not fighting anymore?”

“What, us? Fight you?” The girl said, turning back to Luz. “Why would we do that when you’ve thrown our sister off her game for us?”

Luz realized they must be talking about Amity, and she didn’t really know how to react to this news. She felt her cheeks heat up awkwardly. “Well, it’s not like I’m trying to do that on purpose!”

“Same difference,” the boy said, waving his own sword lazily. “Emira and I have been trying to knock her down a couple of pegs all year. Your challenge at the arena last night really messed with her head.”

Now Luz was really confused. She found herself just opening and closing her mouth like a fish.

Around them, Willow had finally managed to disarm the other camper she’d been fighting, and Gus had knocked off the shield of his. Edric and Emira glanced at this, then at Luz, and they both split into a smile.

“What did you say your name was?” Emira asked, and Luz finally had an answer to their questions.

“Luz Noceda.”

“Well Luz, we have to bounce,” Edric said with a charming smile. “But hopefully we’ll talk soon.”

“See you around, cutie,” Emira added with a wink.

Luz felt her cheeks warm uncontrollably as the two older campers turned heel and darted off through the forest, somehow managing to weave around Gus’ traps. As they vanished, Luz realized with a jolt of shock that she’d been played, and the twins had just broken through to her team's side of the forest.

While she stood there feeling like an idiot, the other two campers had been fended off by Willow and Gus, sprinting back through the entrance they’d carved to get it.

“Luz!” Willow exclaimed, running up to her. She looked winded but unharmed. “What happened? How’d they get through?”

Gus made his way over too, but he looked a little worse for wear. A spot near his eyebrow was turning red like he’d been smacked by the other campers' shield. “I turned around and it was two against one! Are you okay?”

“They played me!” Luz said angrily, gesturing with her sword to where the twins had vanished. “They kept me talking and then escaped around the traps.”

Willow and Gus winced.

“Yeah, we should have warned you about the Blight twins,” Willow said, rubbing the back of her neck. “Their mom is Aphrodite, so they really have a way with words. Unlike Amity, they can be super charming, but they’re also troublemakers.”

Gus nodded slowly. “They could have been Hermes kids with some of the pranks they pull around camp.”

Luz was still frustrated that they’d escaped, but there was nothing she could really do. At least Willow and Gus had fended off the other two. Willow turned back to reseal the wall of thorns that had been hacked through, while Luz and Gus checked the traps. Gus said the twins hadn’t activated them, like Luz had thought, but agreed that it was weird they knew the traps were there.

The three had heard a large banging sound in the forest on their side of the forest, as well as some shouts. But they didn’t see one of the Hecate cabins magic flares, so instead of running in that direction, they patrolled their side of the creek carefully, watching for any red campers racing back with the flag.

Just as Luz started to relax, thinking that maybe most of the fight was on the other side of the creek, she heard the sound of footsteps, and a loud voice yelling “there she is!”

Both Luz, Willow, and Gus spun around at the sound, standing shoulder to shoulders with their weapons raised. Three campers came to a running stop a few feet away from them. Boscha was on the left, swinging her sword experimentally in her hand with a downright sadistic grin. On the right was a girl with dyed silver hair and grey eyes, a bow in her hand notched with an arrow pointed right at her. Luz recognized her as one of the campers from Apollo’s cabin.

Then there was Amity standing in the middle with her xiphos already drawn, eyeing Luz with the same glint in her eye that she’d had in the arena right before her demonstration. Luz clenched Aletheia tightly in her hands, and felt Willow and Gus tense text to her, offering whatever nonverbal encouragement they could.

Boscha had been the one to speak, and she glanced quickly at Willow and Gus, sizing them up before breaking into a laugh. “So these are the friends you’ve decided to make? The dork and half a half-blood Willow?”

She heard Gus and Willow cry out at the insults next to her, and Luz felt anger bubble up in her stomach.

“Leave her alone,” Amity said dryly, and Luz turned to her in surprise. It faded to annoyance when she just lifted her sword and ran her finger along the side of the blade. “It’s not her fault she was born without talent.”

Willow flinched like she’d been slapped, and Luz took a protective step in front of her. While she had been afraid of facing Amity and Boscha before, now all she felt was determination. She had to be the Azura of Capture the Flag, and face down her new rival and defend her friends, who had already done so much for her.

“I’ll tell you what Amity,” she said angrily, pointing an accusing finger at her. “It’s one thing for Lilith to say I can’t beat you in a fight-

“Uh, because you can’t,” Amity interrupted with a scowl.

Luz didn’t humor her, and just kept talking like she hadn’t said anything,“-but it’s another thing to bully my friends.” She lifted Aletheia and pointed it at her menacingly. “So I challenge you!”

Amity stepped forward slowly, unwavering at the sight of Luz’s blade. Her face split into a grin, and she raised her own sword.

“I accept.”

The clearing split into movement. Skara released her arrow and let it fly right at Luz’s chest, and thank the gods Gus was paying attention because he threw out his shield and it bounced off with a clatter. Charging with his spear at Skara, she was forced to pull out her knife and face him.

Willow on the other hand was forced to face Boscha in a head-on assault. She charged at her and their swords clashed ringing across the clearing. Luz desperately wanted to turn and defend her friend, but she had her own problems.

Amity swung her sword, and out of pure reflex Luz was able to deflect it, but Amity was not going easy on her. She swung, and parried, and swung again, and Luz had to get creative in her dodging and rolling, but she was quickly getting outmatched. After one swing, Luz barely managed to leap out of the way, but the tip of Amity’s xiphos slid across her bicep. She winced at the sting, knowing without looking it drew blood.

Amity glared at Luz furiously, swinging again. Luz clashed her sword against her, and the two began to push against the other. Desperate to figure out how to get some kind of edge, Luz struggled to hold her own turning to Amity with wide eyes.

“Why are you being so mean, Amity?”

Amity grit her teeth, “because you and your friends are giving half-blood’s everywhere a bad name.” She jerked herself forward, and Luz lost her balance and stumbled back. Luz watched a flicker of satisfaction flash across her face before she stepped forward again. “So show me what you’ve got, newbie.”

Luz started to panic, knowing that this was likely not going to go well for her. “I’m not good under pressure!”

Amity lunged, and Luz managed to flick away the blade with her own. She ducked under her blade the next time she swung and heard the sound of horse plume hitting the grass behind her. Putting a few feet of distance between her and Amity, despair washed over her as she scanned her surroundings. Gus had his back to a tree, deflecting arrows from Skara who had somehow been able to put more distance between them. Willow and Boscha were still clashing, but Luz knew Willow was getting tired whereas Boscha seemed to just be getting angrier and angrier. There was no way they were going to win this fight.

But she had to try. Luz had gotten her friends into this mess, and she needed to do everything she could to get them out of it.

“Come on guys!” She called to them desperately, and Gus and Willow both turned to look at Luz. “I may not know much about this half-blood stuff, but I know how this is supposed to go. We’re a ragtag trio of loveable misfits joined together to defeat our rivals. With a little faith and a final push, we can win!”

She doesn’t know where that came from, but she just prays it’s enough to motivate her friends. And then the strangest thing happens.

It works. Willow lets out a grunt of effort and pushes back Boscha, slamming the butt of her sword against her helmet. The girl screams (it’s surprisingly feminine coming from Boscha) and drops on her side. Gus loosens his shield from his arm and throws it with all his might, and it smacks into Skara’s bow and knocks it to the floor. He swings around his spear and charges, slamming into Skara with the butt of it and she collapses.

Luz can’t believe that worked. Even Amity is looking shocked now, blinking at her friends in amazement. She looks back at Luz and narrows her eyes.

“How did you do that?” She asks darkly, and Luz doesn’t really know what to say.

“I… uh…. Magic?” She tries feebly.

She narrows her eyes and charges, and Luz feels a strength she didn’t know she had enter her body. She slides Aletheia down Amity’s blade and shoves, pushing her backward and away from her. She tries shouting to her friends again, hoping for the same effect.

“I believe in you guys! You’re the stronger half-bloods!”

It seems to work again. When Boscha tried to get to her feet, Willow swings her sword and the barricade of plants reaches out and wraps around her arms and legs, sealing her in place. Gus spins his spear back around as Skara gets up and stabbed at the top of her helmet, knocking it clean off Skara’s head and sending it spinning into the dirt.

Around them, a crowd has begun to form. Eda and Lilith had appeared from the trees, refereeing the whole battle with watchful eyes. Luz didn’t have a lot of time to look, but she thought she saw Eda give her a thumbs up. The campers on the red team that was inside blue’s territory must have heard that they could exit the thorn wall here, but they’ve now stumbled to a halt around the fight between the six half-bloods. The blue team who was chasing them had also skidded to a stop, including Viney and Jerbo who were watching the whole thing with wide eyes.

Luz was feeling pretty proud of herself until with a single swing Amity had leaped forward and disarmed her, Aletheia spinning into the dirt. It hit the ground a few feet away, and now Luz was weaponless in front of Amity, who didn’t look very pleased.

“How are you doing that?” Amity hissed, losing patience and beginning to step closer.

Luz didn’t know what to do. She didn’t have her sword, so if Amity swung she couldn’t do anything to get away. Her friends were too busy with their own battle, so she had nothing to protect herself with. But she did have something else… something she hadn’t been sure about using before. But now she might not have a choice.

“No, Amity! Don’t step any closer!” Luz warned, holding out her now-empty sword hand pleadingly. She really didn’t want to do this.

Amity hesitated suspiciously. “Why, Luz?” She asked, her voice so low it was almost a whisper. “What happens if I step closer?”

Luz opened her mouth to respond, but she didn’t even know what she would say. It didn’t matter, because Amity wasn’t giving her a choice. She lunged with her sword, and Luz sidestepped and threw out her hand, clamping the hand buzzer around the inside of Amity’s wrist.

Luz felt the zap against her own hand just from the recoil and yelped. But it was nothing compared to how hard it hit Amity. She watched as Amity cried out in pain when the current shocked right through her, and Luz quickly let go. Amity dropped to one knee and started shaking her wrist violently, and Luz the opportunity to scoop up her sword from off the ground, disarming Amity and pointing the blade towards Amity’s chin.

The second she did that, there was chaos. Luz heard shouting from the other side of the creek, and Willow swung her sword and dropped the wall of thorns like it was nothing. A flurry of blue helmets broke across the creek, carrying a huge red banner. Cheers erupted from the blue team, signaling that they had officially won the game. Willow and Gus relaxed their weapons and a grin broke out onto their faces, so Luz followed suit and lowered her own blade.

She wanted to celebrate, but she was feeling extremely guilty. Leaning down, she offered her hand to Amity.

“I’m sorry I shocked you, I was really trying to avoid doing that,” she said genuinely.

Amity was wincing, and when she opened her eyes, Luz watched her look around the clearing. Her cheeks pinked when she realized that the crowd had formed and seen her fall to her knee.

Looking up at Luz, her eyes filled with anger, and she slapped her hand away and got to her feet. “Put that away. You didn’t really beat me, I had you disarmed.”

Luz’s eyebrows pinched together in frustration. “Well, to be fair-”

Her words died in her throat as Amity just picked up her sword and walked away from her, over to Skara and Boscha who were shakily getting to their feet.

The second she walked away, everybody’s attention fell on her. The gathering campers who had watched the fight were calling out their encouragements to Luz for her performance. Jerbo was nodding in approval, and Viney gave her a thumbs up. Edric and Emira had appeared from near the side of the red team and were watching her with those smug smiles on their faces. Luz thought it was weird they weren’t upset they lost.

Willow and Gus raced over, their eyes wide in wonder.

“Luz, that was awesome! How did you do that?” Gus exclaimed, and Luz felt the guilt rise up in her chest again.

“What do you mean? You know I had the hand buzzer-"

“No, not that!” Willow said, equally as excited. “The way you gave us that pep talk! It was amazing!”

Luz didn’t know what to say, but thankfully Eda’s voice drowned out any kind of answer she could have given them.

“You did great, kid!” Eda exclaimed excitedly, running over and ruffling Luz’s hair with her hand. Lilith was standing back a little, looking a little flustered that Luz’s team had won, but when she met Luz’s gaze she nodding encouragingly. “You were out there like Leonida’s rallying his warriors! How’d you do that?”

Luz was getting overwhelmed now, her eyes widening in panic as she backed away. “I don’t know! I didn’t think it was anything I was doing in particular-”

Loud gasping around the clearing shut Luz right up. Everybody was staring at her in awe, pointing and whispering. Eda, for the first time Luz had seen her, looked at a loss for words.

“What?” Luz asked in alarm, her voice cracking as it increased in pitch. Willow and Gus just pointed above her head, and when Luz looked up she squeaked in alarm.

It was a bronze glowing symbol, glaring blazingly above her head. It was some kind of staff, with two snakes wrapped around it. The symbol was spinning wildly. Luz recognized it immediately. It was the symbol above the door to her cabin.

“My… my dad…” Luz said, also at a loss for words.

“The Herald of the Gods,” Eda said. When Luz looked back, all the campers in the clearing had gotten quiet and were kneeling around Luz. Even Amity and her friends did it, though it was clear by the look on their faces they weren’t too happy about it. Eda was kneeling too, but she also looked smug, shooting Luz a cheeky smile.

“The Protector of Travelers, Merchants, Thieves, and Orators. All hail, Luz Noceda. Daughter of Hermes.”

#the owl house #luz noceda #amity blight #luz x amity #lumity #percy jackson au #shelby speaks

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miraclesnail · 4 years

Text

1000 Ways and I Can Name You One

A thousand ways to tell the Stoll brothers apart and I can name you one. Travis and Connor centric oneshots featuring characters from PJO/HOO.

Chapter 32: Michael - Food

Plus the whole 9.7k fic under the read more but with funky formatting

Michael — Food

Michael (14) — Travis (13) — Connor (13)

Early June 2007

Pre Sea of Monsters

[8:07 AM]

The whole drive to Camp, Lee has been saying the weirdest things.

‘This camp is special.’

‘This camp is for children of Greek gods and goddesses.’

‘This camp helps the said children harness the godly gifts inherited from said gods and goddesses.’

‘This camp is top secret and no matter what, you cannot tell your mother about Camp Half Blood. Not a word. Not a complaint. Not even a compliment. Michael? Are you listening? Ar—are you laughing?! Michael, I’m not joking around. This is not a joke.’

Did Michael take Lee seriously? Not at all. Not even to humor him. What does Lee take him for? An idiot? Like, he doesn’t really have many friends at school (none actually) but even he knows when someone is trying to pull a prank on him. Lee typically goes for jump scares, but it’s good to see him broaden his horizon and try new things.

Yeah.

Michael wholeheartedly believes Lee is 100% kidding around.

It’s kind of a shock when he walks through the camp and sees flowers being grown in someone’s palms, men with hooves and horns trotting around, a goddamn girl rising from the lake like some kind of b-grade horror movie but minus the sunken eyes and gray skin and tattered white dress.

It’s a big shock. Kinda earth-shattering actually. Very disorientating. It’s taking all his mental capability to process the fact that the Greek gods are real , that the Greek myths are real , that his atheist beliefs are all wrong and holy fuck?? God is real .

It’s probably why when that SOB Shermie or Sherlock or whatever his name is picked a fight, he welcomed the easy distraction and picked one right back.

In hindsight, he should have maybe exhibited more self-control.

“He shoved me.”

The utter stare of incredulity has Michael quickly rephrasing his initial statement, fiddling with a loose string on his t-shirt.

“He shoved me first. ”

“And so you decided to turn it into a slugfest?” Lee says, arms crossing as they stand on Cabin 11’s porch.

“To be fair, to be fair,” Michael says, scrambling for excuses as his eyes dart from cabin to cabin, “to be really fair, that Sherm-guy started it.”

Lee didn’t buy it, not that Michael expected him too.

“You promised me, Michael,” Lee says, disappointed, and Michael looks away with guilt.

He did promise Lee. Right before they left the apartment complex, Lee explicitly said, “Promise me, Michael, that you’ll be on your best behavior?” And he said he will.

“Mike, I don’t want any phone calls from the head honcho again, okay?” his mom said, exasperated. He said there wouldn’t be any.

“Mikey, please tell us all the fights you’ll get into!” his four little siblings — Leo, Raphie, Carly, and Sam — screamed together with cheeky, smug, knowing grins as he got into the car with Lee. He said ‘in your dreams.’

Not even one full hour and he failed two out of three. Possibly all three if Travis and Connor decide to hand his ass to the director.

“I’m really sorry, Lee,” Michael says, head lowering, “I promise for real this time. I won’t get into any more fights. I swear.”

Like clockwork, the frown and crossed arms drop for a bright smile and a hair ruffling, like he actually believed Michael can do it. Lee’s weird like that. He believes in people and their lies despite what their actions are saying, believes in him even with the 14 years of experience that Michael cannot follow through on that promise.

It’s that same idealistic, stupid belief that has Lee clinging to the hope his birth mom will one day want to actually be a mom.

Michael slinks back into the cabin as quietly as he can. Miranda catches his eye and waves him over, patting the empty spot next to her. Michael hesitates (still remembers the way she tosses a boy a whole head taller than her like nothing) but thought better of it.

The promise, he thinks. Remember your promise.

He sees Sherman sitting on Miranda’s other side. As he slides down to sit cross-legged, he’s mentally preparing himself for a jeer. But Sherman is just staring at Miranda, wide-eyed and star-struck and totally ignoring him which is perfectly fine with Michael.

Miranda angles her body towards him, a slight smile on her face as she tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. “I just want to warn you that you’re in Connor’s bad book right now.”

“Should I be worried?” Michael says, glancing at the brothers talking on one of the upper bunk beds.

To which Miranda smiles sweetly. “You should keep your head down. I heard he gets a bit prank-crazy with people he doesn’t like.”

A sharp whistle brings his attention upfront.

“Okay, so hey, everybody! Exciting first day, I know. Welcome to Camp Half Blood,” one of the pair says with a big grin, standing on top of the upper bunk bed. The other sits at the edge, feet swinging over. “We’re already late for breakfast so I’ll make this super-duper quick. My name is Travis Stoll. I am one of your head counselors. This is Connor, my little brother.”

Connor waves, his smile matching Travis’s.

“I’m also your counselor. Any problems you guys have whether it be life problems, camp problems, prank problems, you can come to us. Lucky for you guys, you have two of us. Most cabins just have one,” Connor says.

“Where’s Luke?” someone in the back yells.

“Luke is gone now. If you see him, either in person or in a dream, tell us right away. Please come talk to me after this meeting if you want more details,” Connor answers, still cheerful but Michael kinda feels like his words are too curt. There’s definitely bad blood between this Luke person and them.

“Moving on,” Travis follows after, “the beds are all taken. Any more fighting over them will result in the instigator getting a timeout. For everybody else, sleeping bags are available and we will make room. Your stuff can be placed in the closet or tucked in your sleeping bag. I know this cabin’s patron is the god of thievery, but please show respect and decency towards your fellow cabinmates and don’t steal from each other. Steal from other cabins instead. Apollo’s kids are the easiest to steal from. So are Aphrodite’s if you want to practice before moving onto the big leagues. Athena’s and Hephaestus’s cabins are where the real challenge is.”

“What about the claiming rate? Someone said the gods would claim us more now,” a girl asks, standing from her sitting position with a bounce, hope in her eyes.

“Uh, um...” Travis falters, looking down at Connor for guidance. It’s hard to notice but Connor bites his cheeks and just barely shakes his head.

“Claiming, yeah. I’m not too sure about that. I’ll talk with Chi — Tantalus about that. Tantalus is the activity director now in case you all don’t know,” Travis answers.

There’s a chorus of groans.

Someone grumbles, “It’s been years.”

“What happened to Chiron?” another asks.

“Temporarily relieved of duty due to, uh, an investigation of his effectiveness on the job. Which, if you ask me, Chiron has been doing a fantastic job of and we should all write a very strongly worded letter to Zeus to get him back on his job.”

A boy in front of Michael shoots his hand up.

“I heard Luke went all ‘Anakin Skywalker’ on us and joined Kr—”

Connor blows an air horn and interrupts the boy before he could finish. Travis’s smile is strained as he says, “Okay, first rule on Camp Half Blood for the foreseeable future! No mentioning any of the bad guys by name. Names have power. Instead we will refer to him by initials. The evil titan guy will be called K.T. K for his first letter and T because he controls time.”

“Can we change it to K.K. Slider?” the same boy says.

Beside him, a girl socks the boy in the arm. “No! How dare you sully K.K.’s name like this?”

But Travis is already jumping down his bed, landing with grace. “K.K. Slider it is. That’s all for the morning announcements. Now everybody gets in a straight line. We’re going to the pavilion for breakfast and it is the best thing ever. You can literally get whatever you want. All you need is the power of imagination. Well, imagination and common sense. Don't imagine something you won’t eat. It’s not a contest to create the grossest food.”

Connor follows down after his brother with a grin and shrugs. “But if it was, I would win.”

Growing up, Michael is what everybody called a ‘problem child.’ Absolutely zero friends not helped by him picking and starting fights for the ‘smallest’ reasons. No remarkable talent except for his athleticism. Mediocre to poor grades due to inability to focus (and it doesn’t help that he’s dyslexic and that his teachers all hate him and that he has a homing device for all the school’s bullies).

The teachers blamed his mother for his attitude and academic abilities. But they don’t know shit. His mother helps him with his homework after coming back from work. His mother searches for ways to help him manage his ADHD and dyslexia. His mother is raising five kids all by herself with zero help from his deadbeat dad. Going to their extracurricular activities, funding their education, making time to have game and movie nights. His mother is literally Superman for finding time to do all that across five children. No. Make that six. Mom always attends Lee’s band performances and includes him with all their activities and outings and supports him the way Lee’s own mom should be doing.

Michael’s pretty sure his mom isn't the problem.

Besides his four younger siblings are literal angels. Clearly, the problem is him. Not his mother.

That’s why going into high school he had every intention of becoming a better son, a better brother, and a better student. Set a better reputation for his family, you know?

Unfortunately, this whole mess with him being half-god kinda put a pause on his plans.

And put every weird thing Lee ever did into perspective.

That one time Lee slapped his brand new Nokia cellphone out of his hands and ended his cell’s short life by stomping the hell out of it? Those dozens of times Lee lectured him about not using technology with his stupid excuse of ‘it rots your brain, Michael. Don’t touch it,’ despite Lee himself using a phone and a laptop on a daily basis?? Those hundreds of times Lee excused himself from dinner, movies, and the middle of game nights to ‘use the bathroom’ and coming back with a thin layer of gold dust??? Those weird dreams he gets of standing on top of a broken, tethering bridge and falling thousands of meters to his death in a ravine and Lee saying, ‘it’s just a dream. Don’t worry about it’ with a high-pitched, forced laugh that says he should be worrying????

Now he sees what it was all about. Obviously a metaphor for the earth-shattering revelation of his heritage.

He’s half- god . A demigod. Some part of him came from an immortal being.

It makes him see his dad in a whole new light.

Like, Michael always knows his dad is an asshole, leaving his mom and whatnot.

But now? Knowing his dad is a literal god in the Greek myths he read back in 6th grade? Those freaky assholes with their crazy sex adventures and ego-driven tantrums?

At least the fantasy asshole dad he had in mind didn’t commit mass genocide or is an egotistical, narcissistic jerk or had sex with their siblings, parents, animals, and who knows what else freaky shit the gods like to stick their dick in to.

And the most bizarre thing is that he’s expected to honor them by throwing the best parts of his meal into the fire.

Well, he’s not gonna.

“Throw your food into the fire, Mike,” one of his counselors says beside him as he tosses a bag of M&M into the flames.

“Why should I?”

“So the gods don’t get angry,” says the other counselor, throwing half of his strawberries — Michael stares at the plate. It’s just strawberries. Nothing else. That’s not healthy — into the fire before turning to help the others.

“They’re gonna threaten us if we don’t worship them? Sounds like a pretty unhealthy parent-child relationship,” Michael says.

The one that tossed the M&Ms shrugs. “Just toss something in. It can be anything. Even something you ha— don’t care about. That’s what I do. I don’t think Hermes minds.”

But what Michael hears is that this Hermes fella doesn’t give a shit.

A small boy with round glasses wedges in between them, frowning, and tosses in a sausage link. “Don’t listen to Connor. You’re never going to be claimed if you listen to him.”

Connor shrugs again. “Hermes hasn’t disowned me yet.”

“That’s because Hermes is busy with other things. The other gods don’t have a child plotting to usurp—” the kid starts to say but at Connor’s harsh nudging and loud cough and not so subtle nod towards the others in the pavilion and (kind of scary) glare, he shuts up. A second passes before the boy says to him, “Everybody likes to feel appreciated, Michael. Even gods. It’s good to remind them we’re here for them. Now more than ever.”

Michael frowns at the exchange. Child? Usurp? Usurp who? The gods? Yeah. Like that is even possible.

“What were you trying to say—”

“So I see you got over your embarrassing loss,” Connor interrupts with this infuriating smug grin. “Man, I would have hidden my face for like a year after the way I kicked your ass.”

And just like that, Michael forgets everything but that day back in March when he met the brothers. It’s an obvious bait and Michael just lunges for it like the dumb fish he is.

“No, I kicked your ass. Kicked it all the way down the stairs,” Michael huffs at Connor’s heel as they walk to the table. Connor slides into the first open spot he sees and Michael sits down across from him, elbow to elbow to his cabinmates. They need a bigger picnic table.

“Ass?” Besides Connor, Miranda’s head swivels to face them, her smile innocent but Michael knows better now. Behind that sweet smile is a demon. “Who kicked whose ass? ”

“We met Michael back in March when we hopped in Lee’s car and we’re not using that language, Mikey,” Travis says, sitting down beside Connor slurping a mouthful of cereal.

“So? Who won?” Miranda asks, leaning over to slide scrambled eggs onto Travis’s plate and picking off 75% of Travis’s many, many strawberries from his plate.

Travis stares at the egg with disdain. “Connor won, of course. And I don’t want that. Take it back.”

“Will said you need something more than just strawberries in the morning. Doctor’s orders. Disobey and you’ll feel his wrath,” Miranda says.

For half-a-second, Michael thinks Travis is going to fight but he turns back in his seat and just grabs his fork.

“There’s nothing wrong with just strawberries for breakfast,” Travis grumbles, stabbing his fork into the scrambled eggs. “Right? Nothing wrong with strawberries.”

“I think that depends on the quantity but don’t worry, Travis. I totally got you,” Connor says, pulling out a basket of strawberries and ducking from Miranda’s sudden lunge for it. With ease, Connor holds Miranda back while Travis indulges in his unhealthy obsession with a satisfied, blissed smile.

Michael thinks of the half Travis threw into the fire and before he knows it, he’s saying, “You really love strawberries, don’t you?”

Travis nods, mouth full. “Favorite food in the world.”

“Then you must like your—”

But Travis’s eyes shoot to a girl entering the pavilion, heading straight towards the table with the plant-speaking kid, and Michael knows his words are falling on deaf ears. Travis nudges Connor and whispers into his ear, a shit-eating grin sprouting on Connor’s face as he looks over his shoulder.

Miranda catches their grins and stands, yelling, “Katie, wait!”

But Katie sits down and Michael hears what is probably the world’s loudest, strongest whoopee cushion rip through the pavilion. Travis and Connor laugh as Katie stands back up, cushion in hand and face flushed tomato red.

“Welcome back, Miss Tattletale!” Travis yells.

“That was months ago, you pieces of — of — fertilizers! Give me a break!” Katie roars. The ground rumbles as a tree sprouts beside the table, hooking Travis and Connor up by the back of their shirts. They’re way too calm as they’re dangling several feet in the air. In unison, both brothers pull out squirt guns and aim them at Katie.

And it is definitely not water judging by the smell.

[9 AM, Sword Fighting]

Lee said he was a demigod. That monsters are real. And that they sometimes must fight off the monsters that come to eat them.

Michael never really thought about what it entailed. What they’re supposed to fight the monsters with.

Dimly, he’s aware of his counselors talking. Something about introduction to swordsmanship and the bare basics plus safety today, then tomorrow they will be training with Ares? Apollo? ‘Some god with the letter A’ cabin and learning a few techniques. He isn’t really paying attention to them as he stares at the blade in his hands.

It’s real. It’s a real, metal blade. And by the looks of it, everyone has one. Even the little 9-year-old. What the fuck? That’s how old the twins, Sam and Carly, are and holy shit. The thought of them with a real sword? The thought of them having to use it to battle some mythical monster? It's enough to make him vomit.

“Michael? Michael, hey.” Someone is snapping their fingers in front of his eyes and he knocks the hand away, glaring at … at … well, it’s either Travis or Connor, staring at him blankly, but he can’t tell who’s who yet. They should have worn nametags.

“What?”

“Have you ever used a sword before?”

Michael kinda felt it should have been obvious, but he shakes his head.

“Okay, well imagine you’re holding a kitchen knife and you’re cutting some veggies for a veggie soup but instead of a broccoli, it’s a monster and instead of small dainty cuts, you’re making big, wide, full power slashes. So nothing like what I told you to imagine. Forget I said that. You want to grip it like this with both hands—” Connor (or Travis?) demonstrates and Michael mimics the action, “—for the most control. You can try one-handed but the strikes tend to be flimsy at best unless you’re gifted like Clarisse or Percy. You want to kill the monsters as fast and in one go as you can while still being safe. Here’s—” he is walked over to a hand-made, hand-stuffed dummy with straws sticking out its seams. A happy face on a yellow sticky note stuck to where it’s head is. “—a practice dummy for you. Give it a few swings and get a feel for the weapon. I’ll be right back with more pointers after helping everyone. You good to be by yourself a bit?”

Then Travis (Connor?) is leaving after Michael hesitates to say ‘no, I’m not good’, taking off with a thumbs up and a crooked grin.

Michael almost called him back, but they’re a big cabin. Only a quarter of them have been gotten too, the other three-fourths goofing around while waiting their turn. Michael has never been to a summer camp before, nevermind one as strange as this, but he guesses they’re on a tight schedule.

So he looks down, readjusts his grip, and swings, missing spectacularly, losing his balance, and nearly taking his eye out.

[10:00 AM, Archery]

Michael didn’t need much help here.

The bow feels right in his hands. His body knows what to do, his arms pull back the bow like it has done this a million times and his first shot lands dead center in the bullseye.

The next five shots are the same.

“Woah,” his counselor mutters, face scrunched in thought before it lightens up, blue eyes shining with a gleam. “You’re a natural. Hey, you wanna be the archery tutor? I’ve never seen anyone aim so well and had such perfect form. Not even Annabeth.”

Michael lowers the bow and tries to figure out how he did what he just did despite never once using a bow before in his life.

[11:00 AM, Greek Mythology]

Michael knew Lee was a decent teacher, tutoring him in both English and Math, so it’s no surprise he’s decent at teaching Greek mythology too. All the campers are in the amphitheater with hand made wooden desks courtesy of the girl from breakfast. Lee is in the center with an overhead projector just having the time of his life explaining what each of the 12 Olympians plus Hades represents with a mind map.

He tries to pay attention. He really did. He gets through listening to Zeus, Poseidon, Hades, and part of Demeter’s history before his attention is pulled away by Travis and Connor. They’re far away from the group, beside the cabins, hunched over a … birdbath? It looks like they’re arguing to the birdbath, but Michael squints and with his perfect vision sees that there is a person. On the surface of the birdbath. A girl with blonde hair. There’s a girl in the water of the birdbath.

There’s a girl. In the water. Of a birdbath.

Maybe he shouldn’t be so surprised. Food pops into existence with a thought. A girl can grow fullass trees without blinking an eye. Miranda can toss a boy almost twice her weight over her shoulder.

So what if the camp has a Moaning Myrtle?

Before he knows it, Lee is done, Michael misses the other 8 Olympian’s tales, and everybody is packing up their notes to head back to their respective cabins.

They’re ending early to have enough time for a tour of the camp. Which is kind of telling where their priorities are when they hold training first over the tour.

It’s kind of even more telling what the camp’s view of safety is when there’s a climbing wall that spews lava and when asked about why there’s lava, Travis and Connor say cheerfully in unison, ‘it’s more exciting that way.’

“Hey, Travis,” a kid starts, tugging on one of the brother’s sleeves.

“I’m Connor, but yeah?” Connor corrects, turning to face the camper.

“Um, I heard from someone in the Ares Cabin that because of us, we’re in war with Kro—K.K. Is that true?”

Connor smiles and shakes his head. “No. We didn’t do anything.”

He didn’t refute the war part though.

And as if Connor hears his thoughts, he addresses the cabin, “You don’t have to fight if you don’t want to. But monsters are still a thing so you still have to go to the morning training. No way out of those. Sorry.”

[12:30, Lunch]

Michael is starting to think Travis is some kind of strawberry fanatic and that’s putting it lightly.

There’s another concerning amount of strawberries on his plate coupled with a grilled cheese sandwich and a salad, yes, but that’s way too many strawberries for one day.

“No such thing,” Travis says, scraping half of his ungodly amount into the fire.

“I think there is a limit though.” Connor shrugs, tossing a bag of M&M right after.

Michael follows them to the table, even more cramped now. Five new campers, unclaimed, arrived late because of road traffic. He tucks himself into the first opening he sees, shoulder to shoulder and elbow to elbow. Many inches too close in his opinion.

“Travis,” Michael starts, thinking back to breakfast, “You’re claimed, right? You know who your godly parent is?”

“Yup, Hermes. God of Pranksters,” Travis says, stabbing his fork into a lettuce and turning to wave it at Lee’s table which is much more roomier. Lee catches the action and nudges a boy beside him with an elbow, snickering. The boy turns and rolls his eyes at Travis.

“You like your dad, right?” Michael asks.

A quarter of the cabin immediately stops talking and not really subtly turns to them. He’s pretty sure he’s breaking some sort of taboo. Not that it bothers Michael all that much.

“Yeah, of course I do. He’s pretty cool,” Travis responds, rolling a cherry tomato around with a fork and not looking him in the eye.

“Why?” It feels like everyone in the cabin is staring at them now, but even then Michael can’t stop.

“‘Why?’” Travis repeats, twirling the fork. Michael can’t help but notice Connor gripping his fork tighter and he has a vivid image of the boy stabbing it into him. Connor seems like the type. “He’s my dad. I think I’m supposed to like him.”

“But he never talked with you though, right? He has never been there for you. How could you possibly like him?”

Travis shrugs. “He’s a god. He’s probably busy.”

Michael frowns. His mom is busy too. Granted, busy with normal things like a job but she still finds the time to tuck his siblings to bed. Still finds the time to cook breakfast and dinner for them. Still finds the time to make movie nights. Still tell them every day, without fail, that she loves them. Is still there for him and his siblings.

“So it doesn’t bother you? The way your relationship is with him right now?” Michael pushes.

Travis fidgets with his strawberries, muttering something under his breath that sounds suspiciously like French.

“What was—” Michael starts to say, but Connor glares, hard. Michael thinks he can see the promise of pain and suffering Connor will inflict upon him. Guess he’d just written his name in Connor’s bad book in Sharpie.

“Look, Michael, it’s the social norm around here to not talk about our godly parents. Especially in ways that demean them.”

Social norm? Like he cares about something as trivial as that.

“I just want—”

“Drop it, Michael. Travis’s relationship with our dad is none of your business,” Connor snaps.

Travis is quiet, a hand resting on a cheek as he stabs into a strawberry, red juices spattering over lettuce and grilled cheese.

“I want his approval. He’s my dad. What kid doesn’t want their parent’s approval?”

Lee pulls him aside as lunch wraps up, leading them a bit away from the others.

“Michael, can you chill with the public grilling for a bit?”

“I just don’t get the worship around here for them though,” he argues.

Lee falters, thinking about his words. “Michael, for some of us, our godly parent is the only one that cares.”

“Wait, are you saying your dad talks to you here?” Michael says. He doesn’t really know what the whole deal is going on with Lee and his mom, but he knows enough to know that Ms. Fletcher deserves the worst mom of the century award.

Lee frowns a bit and shakes his head. “We talked once when I was claimed but other than that, no. Not really. And none of my half-siblings said anything to me about him either. But he’s already doing so much more than the other gods.”

“Really? Like what?”

And Lee answers without hesitating, “He claims us as his.”

Michael recalls the talk before breakfast and the questions. About claiming. About waiting. About giving up. The bitterness in their voices. The longing. The yearning. And a sinking feeling grows in the pit of his stomach.

“How long did it take for you to be claimed?” he asks.

“I was claimed the second I stepped onto Camp. Apollo tends to be rather fast when it comes to claiming his children. The longest he ever went without claiming is one week. Demeter claims fast during the fall and winter months when Persephone is away. Hephaestus takes on average a month or so to claim.”

“And the slowest god at claiming?”

Lee’s eyes narrow in thought. “Let’s see… Ares, Athena, Aphrodite, and Hermes seem to be the slowest.”

“How slow?”

“Slow as in… months, years.”

“Why?”

Lee looks away in discomfort. “Who knows? We shouldn’t speculate though. That’s just asking for a curse.”

He catches up to his cabin gathering for the next event and when he asks around about the claiming rate, he gets a mixture of answers.

“Because we’re not their favorites,” Miranda says cheerfully, while arm-wrestling (and clearly winning) with a flushed Sherman.

“Because we have to prove ourselves first,” the kid with the glasses states, eyes fixed on his shoes.

“Because they forgot we existed,” others say.

“Because they want something from us.”

“Because they don’t want the responsibilities of a parent.”

“Because they don’t care.”

“Because they don’t think we’re worth it.”

“It’s because they suck ass,” one of the older campers says with dead serious eyes as Travis chokes on his strawberry, tossing the rest of the fruits into the fire, plate and all.

“Shh! Celise, you’re gonna get cursed! Everybody, no bad-mouthing the gods or you’ll be turned into a snail and as cute as snails are, I like you all as humans.”

The camper shrugs and whispers, it’s true .

Trust me, they whisper next as they’re pulled aside by Travis’s frantic tugging.

They don’t care.

All of this is truly making him appreciate the gods more.

Connor whistles for everybody’s attention, standing on top of a rock with a piece of paper.

“It’s free choice from now until 3:30. Each counselor is hosting a different event. Travis and I are doing canoeing. Silena will be hosting horseback — that needs to be changed to pegasi — riding. Malcolm, you will take over for Annabeth since she isn’t here yet for the intro to Origami. Katie will be watching over the wall climbing. Lee, intro to guitar and lyres. Beckendorf, intro to welding. Pollux will be taking over Clarisse’s place at the arena for additional sword and archery lessons. And Castor will be teaching DIY soda. Here’s a map for each of you where everything is. Any questions? Yes, you, in the back. Hao, right?”

Michael takes the map, finds Lee’s name, finds the corresponding location, and then crumples the flimsy paper in his hands.

But before he can walk away, Miranda is there in front of him and tugging him by the arm with a beaming smile.

“Follow me for a sec? I want to show you something. It will be quick, I promise.”

[1:30 PM, Free Choice]

“Everybody gets a celestial weapon,” Miranda explains as they walk to the armory, “It KOs the monster and turns them into gold dust if it nicks them in the flesh just enough.”

Gold dust… like the gold dust Lee comes back sometimes covered in?

She leads him to an unassuming building beside one of the cabins, opening the door and revealing shelves stocked full of weapons. Miranda strides to the back without a double-take. Like it’s normal for a summer camp with children to have a stockpile meant for war.

“Do you have a preference?”

“I… uh…”

“Want some help? Based on what I saw in training, I think you’re better suited with something long-range. You looked uncomfortable with a sword. Aha! What about this?“

Then Miranda pulls out a rifle from one of the boxes.

Michael stares at it for a full second, wondering if he’s imagining it, wondering if Miranda is kidding, wondering if this whole day is just one big funny dream. But, no, Miranda remains standing there with a big ol’ grin and rifle in hand and waiting for them to say something.

“No.”

“What? Why not?”

“First of all, it’s a gun. Second of all, I share a room with two of my siblings who get into my shit all the time. Third, my mom would literally kill me if she sees me holding a rifle. And fourth, it’s a fucking gun .”

”It’s okay. This is a magic rifle. If you engage the safety and remove the magazine clip, it turns into a telescope.” Miranda demonstrates it for him and would you look at that. It actually became a telescope. “See? No problem. Mom won’t find out and plus! It actually works as a telescope! You can go stargazing with this thing and also kick any monster-butt.”

“What happens if it goes off and a bullet hits someone?”

“That’s okay too. The bullets are made of celestial metal. It can’t harm mortals.”

“But it’s a gun. And I don’t have a license.”

Miranda shrugs. “You can’t kill a mortal though. I don’t think you need a license if you seriously can’t hurt anyone. But if you don’t want a gun, then we can get you a bow. Apollo’s cabin is full of them. Come on.”

And as Michael follows Miranda out, he mutters under his breath, “Why are you all like this?”

Miranda laughs, spinning around her heels to face him.

“And you’re like a completely normal kid. If you didn’t pass the barrier, I would have thought Lee brought someone fully human.”

[2:20 PM, Free Choice]

“What is that?”

Lee does only a cursory glance at where Michael is pointing before going back to tuning his guitar engraved with his name and last initial on the Big House’s porch. “It’s Thalia’s Pine. Someone poisoned it unfortunately. A couple years ago a girl sacrificed herself to save her friends. Her father turned her dying body into a magic tree that protects all of camp. We’re trying to fix it, but it’s kinda slow-going right now.”

“That’s cool. That’s cool, but I’m talking about that .”

And Lee really looks at where Michael is pointing at. A … well, he doesn’t want to say robotic because there’s no way a robot can move that fluidly, but fine. A metallic bull the size of an elephant is charging towards them, running full speed but going nowhere. It’s like an invisible wall is holding it back. Just a bit aways are five people in a line in full bronze armor and a variety of weapons with two more people running towards them. A girl with a gruff voice is ordering to get into position.

“Is this some sort of play?” Michael asks, waiting for Lee’s answers but when there’s none, he turns to face him. “Lee?”

Lee is pale. His guitar falls out of his hands as he stands.

Michael tenses, alarmed. “Lee?”

“Shit,” Lee curses for the first time ever. “Fuck.”

Now Michael is really worried. “What’s wrong? What’s going on?”

Lee whirs to face him and Michael doesn’t like the fear, the panic he sees in Lee’s usually calm eyes.

“Michael, Beckendorf is in the forge. Get him first. Tell him there is a Colchis Bull at Half Blood Hill. Then go get Travis and Connor next — Hey? Michael, are you there?”

A second bull crashes into the invisible wall and they break through. They’re breathing fire. People are being set on fire. People are having their armor melted off. People are being burned. People are being trampled on. People are—

“Michael!” Lee shakes him hard by the shoulder. “Don’t look at it. Just go run and get Beckendorf.”

Then he’s forcibly turned around and pushed away to the sound of terrified screams and dying cries.

[3:00 PM, Free Choice]

So that’s a monster.

And he’s expected to fight one of them?

The guy who took out the first bull —Percy he thinks is the name — Percy did it with a little help with a flame-resistant man and Percy is about the same age as him. And Clarisse took out the second bull all by herself. So it’s definitely possible. With training and maybe a bow instead of a sword, Michael can do it.

He can do it.

…

Just because it’s possible, doesn’t mean it’s right. Doesn‘t mean it’s normal and fuck.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

How can anyone not see how messed up this whole thing is? Monsters exist and they eat twerps like him? They’ll hunt him for as long as he lives? He’s always going to have to watch his back? He’s always going to have a weapon on him? This is what his day will be like every day? This is normal? This is what being a demigod means?

From the porch of the Big House, Michael watches Travis and Connor, amongst a few others with just as many beads on their necklaces, triaging the injured. Passing around nectar bottles and ambrosia brownies, helping them stand, checking their wounds all with an air of professionalism.

They were trained for this. They prepared for this.

Michael doesn’t like that little fact.

And speaking of little facts he doesn’t like, one just sits down next to him. When he’s not standing around like a dumbass, he goes to get more nectar bottles from the infirmary where a team of two people is running around tending to the patients. One is Lee. The other, and the clear leader, is the boy in blue scrubs and yellow flip flops. The kid barked orders left and right, telling people where to go, where to place the patients, how to treat the minor wounds until he can get there, basically keeping everything orderly and efficient, all with this air of confidence and calmness. It would have been very reassuring if the kid himself wasn’t this little, baby-faced 11-year-old.

And said 11-year-old is now sitting down beside him, downing a bottle of water then downing half a bottle of red Gatorade.

Michael is starting to see why Lee doesn’t want his mom to know where Camp Half Blood is. If she ever visited and saw how the camp is being run primarily by pre-teens and teens… well… she’ll probably lose it.

“Hey,” the kid says.

“Hey,” Michael replies, cautiously.

Then, silence.

The most awkward silence he has ever experienced as they just sit side by side.

The kid takes another sip from the Gatorade.

“You’re Michael, right? You’re Lee’s upstairs friend?”

Michael bristles at the words. “How did you—“

“When the cabins burned down, we stayed at Lee’s apartment for a couple days,” the kid explains, staring at Travis and Connor milling about the battlegrounds. He fidgets with a bandaid on the back of his hand. “This is going to sound really weird, but I thought I heard his voice and your last names match so it might not be my imagination. But do you have a younger brother named Raphael?”

“Yeah, I do. How do you know that?” Michael says, trying and failing to tone back the defensiveness in his voice. God please don’t let Raphie be a demigod like him.

The kid breaks into a big smile and it really makes him look like the child he is. “We used to be in a class together with Mrs. Rem. How is he by the way? Is he still watching Ninja Turtles? What did he think of the newest episode?”

Distantly, from a dinner chat a long time ago, Raphael mentioned a ‘Will’ who left class because of a stomach ache and was never seen again. He remembered Raphael being really worried. He remembered Raphael even saying that ‘Will doesn’t ever get sick’ and he remembered dismissively saying, “Don’t worry. The kid’s probably fine.”

There’s no way the kid next to him is that Will. It has to be a coincidence. It got to be. Forget how this kid knows Raphael is a fan of Ninja Turtles. It’s a popular show right now. Somewhere, in this 6.6 billion populated planet, there’s got to be a Will and a Raphael who both go to the same school with a 5th-grade teacher named Mrs. Rem and both watch Ninja Turtles and both love Raphael the sai-welding turtle.

“You went to Hodgkins Elementary School?”

“Yeah.”

There’s still a chance this is all a coincidence.

“Your favorite turtle is Raph?”

“Well, it’s Leo now but I used to like Raph.”

Still a coincidence.

“And your name’s Will?”

“It is.”

Just one big coincidence.

“And you left the classroom—” Michael wracks his brain — when, when did Raphael talked about the kid? — “Because of a stomach ache back in October?”

For a minute, Will is silent. A minute filled with nothing but the whistle of the wind and commanding yells of campers. Will chuckles, low, as the plastic bottle crinkles in his hands. But when Will speaks, his voice is carefully blank, devoid of emotion. “Not exactly, no. I saw something strange at school that nobody could see and I called my mom, er, my aunt. But she raised me so I considered her my mom. She said to get out, even if I have to lie. So I did. A stomach ache was the easiest to fake. She picked me up from school. I think she was going to take me to camp. But on the drive here… a cyclops showed up and totaled the car. We ran. She told me to go ahead and get help. And I did. Without looking back. I found Lee and he took care of the cyclops but mom… ”

The kid’s voice is still blank. Emotionless.

“She died because of me.”

A bitter smile.

“Because I was too weak. Because I was too scared.”

The bottle bursts in his hand, the red dripping off his hand and staining his scrubs.

“No one is ever going to die because of me. Not again. Not ever.”

The kid leaves, running back inside when someone screams bloody murder and another voice yells, “Solace!”

(“Will’s last name was on our vocab lists,” Raphael had said a long time ago. “Solace. It means comfort. That’s so cool. No way can I forget that.”)

Michael continues to sit there, watching the battlefield empty out one camper at a time until everyone injured has been attended to.

(“She died. Because of me. Weak. Scared.”)

Weak. He understands. Too scared. He understands that too. He experienced all that today with the bulls.

If it had been at home with his family, at school with his classmates, even at the park with random strangers, what would have happened? He would have fought, right? Adrenaline would have kicked in and he would do something. Or would he have frozen? Just like he did today? Just stood there, watching his family be stomped and kicked and lit on fire until someone kicked him into gear? (“Run, Michael. Don’t look back.”)

No.

No. Fuck no. Three months. He has three months of this summer camp / orphanage / ‘let’s-all-become-child-soldiers-together!’ hellhole. He has three months to kick this stupid deer in the headlights reaction.

(“She died because of me.”)

He’s not going to let anyone die.

[5:00 PM, Free Time]

He finds them in the cabin, one slumped on the bed with an arm over his eyes and the other sitting at the foot with a sketch of the cabin in one hand and a pencil in the other.

They’re talking about something secret because as soon as Michael slams the cabin door open, their conversation stops. He catches the last sentence though. Are the nightmares getting worse? And god, if these two are okay with everything that just happened today, just handled it all with a face that says this is nothing, then Michael doesn’t want to know what kind of nightmares are troubling them.

“What’s up?” Connor or Travis, the one on his back, asks, trying and failing to get upright. The arm moves and tired eyes peek at him from underneath.

“Is it Lee? Does he need us again?” the other asks, tossing the drawing under the bed.

“You said, whatever problems we have, we can come to you two,” Michael starts.

They nod together in sync.

“Then I want you guys to train me until I drop dead. Now until the end of summer.”

[6:00 PM, Dinner]

He barely has his food on the plate when a bright light shines over his head. Flashy. Illuminating. Almost eye-blinding. Michael looks up, squints, and sees the sun with 21 arrows surrounding it, representing the sun’s rays.

Distantly, he’s aware of a bored voice proclaiming him as a child of Apollo. But all he’s really focused on is his cabin’s, ex-cabin now he guesses, reactions. He can see all their faces down the line. Most are happy. They smile and cheer for him, patting on him on the back and congratulating him. But he can see it, beneath their grins, beneath the genuine elation, is frustration, jealousy, longing.

(“It's been years.”)

Travis, with his pile of strawberries, bumps him in the shoulder with his own. “Hey, congratulations. Apollo cabin is a lot roomier than ours so you get to actually sleep on a bed.”

Connor nods, tossing an M&M bag into the flames. “Too bad you’re gonna miss the experience of being crammed like sardines on the floor. It’s actually pretty cozy.”

Michael frowns as he conjures up a PB and J sandwich exactly how Mom would make it, cuts it into halves, and toss it in . “Are you guys still going—”

“We’ll still help you,” Travis interrupts, but his smile is impish, borderline devilish. “But—”

“It comes with a price now.” Connor follows with a just as sordid grin. “Two conditions. One, you have to help us with archery. We’re not bad but we’re not good either and could use a bit more work. Annabeth and I have this sparring contest every week to see who is more proficient in what weapon. She beats me every single time when it comes to archery, but that’s ending this year. And two, you have to be our inside man.”

“Inside man?” Michael asks, already kind of knowing what that means.

“Let us into your cabin. Help us set up pranks in your cabin. Tell us everything we want to know about your cabin. You know. That sort of thing,” Travis says flippantly.

And before Michael can reject, accept, do literally anything, Travis turns around and walks to the table with this unbearably cheerful hum. “Will is going to regret ever messing with my diet.”

Connor falls in step with a fond smile. “But seriously, Will has a point. You need to balance your meals a bit more.”

For such nice people , Michael thinks as he’s corralled towards the Apollo table by an ecstatic Lee , they can be such dicks.

[7:00 PM, Volleyball]

“Hey, Lee, when did the monsters start coming for me?” Michael asks as he twirls the volleyball in his hands once, twice and tosses it to Lee. In the background, Michael can hear the yells and cheers of the far more serious, far more competitive match going on. Apparently, there’s a tournament between the cabins and the winner gets bragging rights and no cabin inspection next month.

Lee isn’t participating. “Our cabin is always clean and orderly,” he had said with pride, though that didn’t stop his half-siblings ( my half-siblings) from making a team and participating.

“Eh? The monsters? Uh, l-last year,” Lee says, fumbling the ball just like he’s fumbling the lie.

So it’s been more than a year.

Michael bites his cheeks as he bends his knees and extends his arms to bounce the ball back.

“And you’ve been taking care of them all this time?”

“Well, not all of them,” Lee admits, catching the ball with both hands. “A lot of them went away on their own.”

Liar , sings his guts. He’s lying .

Because Lee is way too nice. Way too selfless. Way too noble to tell the truth that would most definitely hurt.

“Why? Why didn’t you take me to camp earlier? When the monster started coming? Why now?” he bites out, just barely holding back the snarl. You could have saved yourself years of pain, years of trouble.

“Because…” Lee looks over to the courts, to where Travis and Connor are arguing with Annabeth (the moaning myrtle girl, Michael realizes). Something about which team Percy should be on.

(“Your dad is the god of Athletes. Your cabin already have an advantage.”)

(“Okay, but consider this, only Travis and I are claimed. Everyone else on the team could be anyone’s child. And your team is completely made up of god-tier and gifted strategists.”)

(“Your #4 is literally speaking ten languages. He’s got to be a son of Hermes.”)

(“That is a stereotype. Abraham could just be remarkably smart.”)

Lee’s eyes go back to him. “Because I wanted you to have a normal life, to know that there’s more to life than just this. Besides, I’ve been watching you for years. You learn how to do something like it’s nothing after a few minutes. It’s kind of ridiculous and I am lowkey jealous. But if you feel like you’re not ready, I can always—”

“Shut up, idiot. You’re not dropping out of school for me,” Michael grumbles, Lee’s stupid chuckle not at all comforting.

“I heard you guys are in a war,” Michael says, “Are you fighting in it?”

Lee serves the ball over, high and easy to hit. “Yeah. It feels wrong not to.”

And Michael spikes it back as hard as he can. “But you’re going to college in a few months.”

Lee shrugs, easily leaning forward and kicking it back high into the air for another easy hit. “Julliard is close enough to camp.”

Michael catches it, tucking it under an arm. “That’s not what I meant. What’s the point of going to college if you might lose an arm or leg fighting in this stupid war? You should just focus on school.”

Lee laughs of all things. “That’s nothing. Will fixed worse.”

Michael bristles at Lee's casualness. “Well, if you’re gonna fight, then I am going too.”

Lee laughs again, tenser this time. “You think your mom is gonna let you?”

“She lets you!”

“Because she doesn’t know what I’m doing. And I’m not the one living with her. Besides, do you even know what we are fighting for?”

“Of course, I do! The enemy is K—” Crap. He never got the full name or title of the bad guy. And somehow he feels like saying Cabin 11’s made up name isn’t going to make Lee take him any more seriously. “I’ll learn more about it. Besides, you’re a great guy. I’m sure you’re fighting for the good guys.”

“Michael, your faith in me is nice but getting involved without knowing the full story is dumb. You’re not fighting.”

“Yes, I am.”

“No, you’re not.”

“Yes, I —”

Lee’s face hardened the way it does when he’s mad or worried or dead serious. Like that one time Leo microwaved a spoon. Like when Raphael tried to jump down a flight of stairs for a dare. Like when Carly and Sam ran onto the streets without looking. And crap. Michael is 14, practically an adult. He shouldn’t be cowing under Lee’s hard stare anymore. But he is and he’s (slightly, only just slightly) scared.

“No, you’re not,” Lee says, “Because I don’t want you to fight when you have so little experience. Because your mom will literally kill me if something, anything happens to you. Because something bad will happen to you if you do join this fight. So no. You’re not going to fight. You’re not going to participate. You’re only here to train and enjoy camp life.”

“Fine. Fine. I won’t,” Michael grumbles, ducking his head. “Sheesh, you make it sound like if I join, the camp is done for.”

The hard stare melts back into that familiar, soft, (almost) carefree aura with a shrug and small smile. “I just have a feeling. It’s good to trust your instincts.”

And my instincts are telling me right now that you need to quit. But Michael is pretty sure Lee won’t appreciate it and moves the conversation to the climbing wall and why it’s on fire.

[9:00 PM, Campfire Song]

“Mom,” Michael says, the phone pressed against his ears. He looks out the window, watching the vibrant flame of the bonfire climb high into the starry skies and the circles of cheerful campers surrounding it.

“Michael, I was wondering when you would call. How’s camp? Do you like it?”

“Camp is…Camp is great. Lots of activity. Really unique. I—” I like it dies on his tongue. He doesn’t like it. He might have if there was a bit less training. Luckily his mother didn’t catch that pause.

“That’s great! Made any new — Carly Yew, are those markers I see in your hands? You better not draw on the walls. Get some paper, baby, okay? Made any new friends?”

“A few.”

“You should invite them over! We can have a nice little movie night together.”

Michael frowns as he recalls someone, somewhere, saying not to gather in more than threes outside the barrier. It attracts the monsters apparently and Michael isn’t about to test that. “They can't. They’re busy. They’re like—um—they’re head counselors, you see, and have a lot of duties.” Like practically running the camp but he doesn’t think Mom would appreciate knowing that.

“Well, it’s nice to see you make friends even if they’re a bit older.”

Are Travis and Connor older than him? Possibly. They exude confidence that no normal teen has. Or maybe they have just been here for a long time. And that is all kinds of sad.

His mom asks him about his day, what he did, if he has something he really likes, and for the next hour, Michael goes into a heavily censored, G-rated, parent-safe tale of his first day at Camp Half Blood. It could have been worse. On his way to the Big House to use the phone, he overheard an older boy telling a couple newbies how a kid fought a Minotaur on his first day here and a girl having to sacrifice herself for her friends.

Wow, it would suck to be them.

[11:00 PM]

He meets dad in his dreams.

Michael doesn’t know why, but he thought Apollo to be a refined god. A serious god. A graceful god.

Instead he sees a teenager sporting pilot shades and leaning on a flaming red sports car in the dingy parking lot of Camp Half Blood with the early morning sun just breaking the horizon.

“Dad?” Michael says, (who else could it be?) but still not really sure. “Uh, Apollo?”

And the teen waves, flashing a smile that nearly blinds him. “Michael! It’s so good to finally meet you.”

Before Michael could react, the teen — Apollo — dad — pulls him into a crushing hug that knocks all the air out of his lungs.

Apollo is strangely… warm. But not overbearingly warm. Warm like first snuggling into bed under the covers. Plus he smells like laurel leaves, sweet and bright. And Michael has a vivid flashback of his mom — younger, much much younger — in the hospital bed smiling at a man in his mid-twenties with a bundle of sheets in his arm.

Michael blinks as Apollo pulls away, holding him at arm's length and looking him up and down with a musing stare.

“You resemble your mom more than me,” Apollo says with a nod, “Most of my children tend to take after my looks, but you’re different, Mike. I have to say, I like it! I can’t stay long. Godly matters I have to attend to, you know? Here, I got you a gift for making it so far in life. Tell Audrey I miss her and think sweetly about the time we spent together.”

Apollo is pressing a guitar into his hands with his name engraved in the body and stepping back to get into his car. It’s exactly the same as the guitar Lee has except for the engraving. So not unique by any means. But it is a gift. And mom would kill him for rejecting a gift. It’s rude she says, but Michael doesn’t care about Apollo enough yet to give a fuck. Besides if Lee’s experience is anything to go by, this is probably the last time he’ll ever talk to his dad. He needs to make this moment count for something.

“Wait.”

Apollo pauses just as the engine roars to life, purring sweetly and the window rolled down.

“I want to ask for something else.”

Apollo blinks and Michael can see the inkling of annoyance in the young face, but Apollo nods and says without a lick of irritation in his voice, “Sure, shoot.”

“I want you to spend more time with Lee.” Then Michael has a realization. “You know who Lee is, right? The oldest one in the cabin? About to go to Julliard? Want to become a teacher?”

Now Apollo is definitely irked, a telltale wrinkle in his brow. Michael can now add ‘gods’ to the list of people he can make pissed off. “Of course I know Lee, my little music enthusiast child. How could I not? But I’m a God, Michael. There’s only so much free time I have.”

“Then just a few minutes a week, or even a month. So he knows you care.”

Again a slight scowl, but it lingers for a few seconds more.

“I do care but okay. Okay, I will.” Apollo shifts the car into drive still a little annoyed. Michael thought that was it. Any minute now he’s going to wake up and start the day, but Apollo sighs, leans back in the leather seat, and hangs an elbow out the window. “Michael, you’re so much like your mother. Caring. Gutsy. Compassionate. It’s crazy how much you resemble her. You’re going to do great things. You’re—” The annoyance drops and for a brief second, Apollo looks grief-stricken. And once again, Michael dreams of falling, of a bridge, of a boat wafting through a chasm of fire. But Apollo smiles that blinding smile, fond, and shakes his head.

“Don’t worry so much about your family. They’re going to be fine. You’re going to be fine.”

Michael wakes up just as the car drives off, his gut itching.

Apollo is lying to you.

#fanfiction #ao3 #archive of our own #my writing #travis stoll #connor stoll #michael yew #lee fletcher #will solace #miranda gardiner #pjo #percy jackson

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luvshuas · 5 years

Text

the art of flirting

pairing - son of aphrodite!jun x child of harmonia!reader

tags - demigod!au + one-sided (?) enemies to lovers + fluff

synopsis - flirting was almost like a second language for jun. he believed he could have anyone swooning over his words in a matter of seconds. so much so that when he’s dared to make the child of harmonia fall in love with him he accepts without hesitation. however, he didn’t consider his reputation to build a pre-existing wall between him and the other demigod

word count - 5k

through the mist masterlist

It was hard not to know about Jun’s reputation. Whispers about who his next ‘victim’ would be would drift around camp from time to time, but all they would do is boost Jun’s confidence. Not that he needed a confidence boost in the first place. One could say he was overly confident in his ability to flirt, but that just made it all the more fun for his friends.

“Who’s next? Jun? Truth or dare?” Soonyoung asked, though he knew exactly what Jun would choose. Jun’s grin said his answer before it even left his lips.

“You already know I want a dare, Soon.” He said, leaning against his bed post. Soonyoung’s grin widened as Jun said those words. He wasn’t planning on giving him an impossible dare; no, it was merely meant to see if Jun could live up to his brags.

“I dare you to make that Harmonia kid fall in love with you.” Soonyoung’s grin turned into a smirk, but Jun remained unbothered. It wasn’t like him to make someone fall in love with him. Sure, he flirted enough to cause feelings, but never enough for it to go that far. Jun stood up from his position against the bedpost and made his way towards the door of the Aphrodite cabin. “Where are you going?” Soonyoung stared after him.

Jun grinned,”To make the child of Harmonia fall in love with me.” He stepped into the cool night air, and made his way towards the campfire. In all honesty, he had no clue whether you’d be at the fire or sound asleep in the cabin where the children of minor gods and goddesses stayed. The closer Jun got to the fire the less hope he had, until he caught a glimpse of you standing up behind another demigod.

Apologizing, Jun pushed past some of his fellow campers to try to catch up to you. “Hey! Wait up!” He called after you, hoping you’d slow your brisk pace. Without realizing it, your pace had slowed from a quick, angry mum walk to a saunter slow enough for Jun to finally catch up to you.

“Damned charm speak.” You murmured quietly. You kept your gaze fixed on the dirt path below you as you walked alongside him in silence. You knew what he wanted, but so would anyone if he walked up to them. During all the years you had spent at camp you had come to learn that Jun didn’t go up to people in the hopes of starting a new friendship, it just wasn’t like him. “What do you want Junhui?” You asked, keeping your gaze on the dark path.

“Oh we’re using full names?”

You rolled your eyes, “I’m not calling you by a nickname. We’re not friends.” You squinted into the darkness, hoping to make out the outline of your cabin. You knew you were close to it, but it felt as if the building moved farther back with every step you took. “You can go back to your cabin, Junhui.” You suggested, noticing he was still walking in step with you.

“You’re probably right. It’s getting late, but you also shouldn’t be walking alone in the dark. Who knows what’s out there? What if a cyclops got you?” His voice quieted as he said ‘cyclops’, though the look you gave him was far more dangerous than whatever monster he has come across.

“The camp is protected, dumbass. Nothing's gonna jump out and eat me.” You gestured to the space around you, indicating that nothing would be lurking in the shadows. You let out a thankful sigh as your cabin -- or your safe space away from Jun -- finally came into view.

“I guess. Alright, I’ll come get you tomorrow!” Jun said, quickly taking off afterwards. A smile spread across his face as he heard your protests. He knew this would be a challenge, but what’s the fun in giving up when presented with a little bump in the road? Jun slowed down his pace as he neared the dying fire. Most of the campers had returned to their cabins out of fear that they’d stay out too late and be forced into kitchen duty by one of the Furies.

Jun quietly slipped back into the now quiet Aphrodite cabin. He figured his friends would’ve been kicked out once Jun left to find you, but he didn’t particularly care. Jun wandered through the dark cabin until he felt his knees hit the edge of an empty bed -- his bed. He felt a tinge of excitement for tomorrow as he climbed into his bed, sleep beginning to tug at his consciousness.

_____

You weren’t the least bit surprised when one of your cabin mates shook you awake to tell you Jun was waiting at the door for you. You half expected him to give up with his obvious pursuit of you with how uninterested you acted last night, but if he really came all the way to your cabin then maybe you had underestimated his determination. You pulled a jacket onto your arms and made your way to the front of the cabin.

“Wen Junhui, do I need to directly tell you to get lost for you to leave me alone?” You asked, opening the front door to step out onto the wooden deck that wrapped around the cabin. Jun stood up from where he was sitting on the steps the moment he heard your voice. A smile spread across his face as he took in your messy hair and still-tired eyes. He could only describe the way you looked as homey.

“Good morning, love. I’m here to take you to get breakfast.” Jun extended his hand for you to take. He watched you consider his offer before you turned around to retreat back into your cabin. “Hey! Are you seriously just going back to bed?” He asked, bewildered that you’d turn down breakfast with him.

“Chill. I’m just gonna change.” You rolled your eyes, entering your cabin once again. You thought it was strange how determined he was, but then again he was like that ever since you met him on your first day at camp. Jun had arrived a year before you, and in no time he was claimed by Aphrodite. His flirtatious habits and charming personality had been a dead giveaway for his parentage.

You tried to be quick with changing and making your bed. You always thought of your need for harmony, especially in domestic settings, as a curse from your mother. After checking yourself in the mirror one last time you returned to the deck where Jun was still waiting. “You didn’t have to get all dressed up for me. We’re not going on a date, unless you want to?” Jun smirked, his last sentence subtly suggesting that you and him should go on a date.

You walked past him, “You’re here to take me to breakfast, not to flirt with me.”

“Who says I can’t do both?” Jun quickly moved to catch up with you. He walked proudly beside you, as if you were a gem he’d finally gotten his hands on. The walk to the mess hall was short, and, much to your surprise, quiet. Jun hadn’t said a word as he opened the door for you and followed you through the buffet.

“Go to the Aphrodite table, Junhui.” You said, taking a seat at your cabin’s designated table. You nudged Jun’s elbow away from your plate, but he didn’t budge. He sat there as still as a rock as you continued to eat your breakfast. “If you’re gonna stay here then stop staring at me while I eat. It’s weird.”

“Why won’t you call me Jun?” He asked, lifting his head from his arms. After years of being called by a nickname he wasn’t used to hearing his full name. Jun didn’t necessarily mind you using his full name, but he just found it strange that you opted for the long version over what everyone else called him.

“Nicknames are for friends. You’re just an annoyance.” You stated matter-of-factly. You bit into the last piece of toast you had on your plate to suppress a small smile as he groaned. You could admit that you were slightly impressed by his determination to get you to like him, but at the end of the day you still knew nothing good would come from falling for Jun.

“If I’m so annoying then why’d you agree to go to breakfast with me?”

“You made someone wake me up, and I would’ve gone eventually. You just happened to ask so I agreed.”

“I think you like me.” Jun smiled as you stood from your seat, walking over to the table of dirty plates. He stayed seated while watching you head towards the door. He knew he got you. 1-0, he thought.

_____

After your breakfast ‘date’ with Jun you hadn’t seen him for the entire day leading up to a game of capture the flag. The spontaneous announcement that the entire camp would be participating in the game didn’t come as a surprise to anyone. Demigods gathered in groups around the entrance to the forest where the game would take place. In order to separate cabins names were pulled out of a hat. The red team was made up of Athena, Apollo, Zeus, Demeter, Hecate, Hades, and your cabin. The blue team had Ares, Poseidon, Hermes, Hephaestus, Dionysus, Nemesis, and finally Aphrodite.

“Let’s make a bet.” Jun said, quickly finding you in the sea of identical orange t-shirts. “If blue team wins then you and I are going on a date, and if your team wins then you can decide on whatever you want.”

“Deal.” You stuck out your hand for him to shake and finalize the bet. You didn’t have any intention to lose to Jun, and with the cabins on your team you didn’t expect to lose. A grin spread across Jun’s face as he shook your hand. To anyone who managed to get close to him his smirk would’ve given away hints that he had something up his sleeve, and with the Hermes cabin on his team there was no telling what that could be.

Once both teams had placed their flags on opposite sides of the forest a conch shell was blown, signaling the start of the game. Demigods on both sides took off running through the woods, using whatever powers their parents gave them to their advantage. You stayed behind to watch the flag with a few other demigods while the majority of your team raced to find the other flag.

Everything was dead silent around the flag for around ten minutes. Then the sound of metal piercing wood invaded the quiet space. Your eyes widened as you took in the grappling hook buried in the tree adjacent of you. You stayed crouched in the bushes as the sound of metal against the cord rang out. Neither you nor the other demigods watching over the flag made any mood to stop the two boys from the opposing team from taking your flag. You didn’t need to.

“Ah, so that’s why you didn’t seem bothered by two people planning on stealing your flag.” Jun said, suddenly crouching next to you. You tore your gaze from the two opposing teammates as they dangled from the rope traps your team had set up to Jun. You hadn’t heard him sneak up behind you so to say his sudden appearance startled you was an understatement. You fell on your butt as you tried to grab the knife from the sheath handing on your hip. “Woah, no need to stab me. I’m just here to get your flag.” Jun raised his hands in surrender.

“Wen Junhui you almost gave me a heart attack!” You whispered harshly. You could’ve sworn he was able to hear the louding thumping of your heart with the smirk he gave you.

“Well it’s a good thing I didn’t otherwise I’d have to go on a date with a corpse.”

You rolled your eyes at his pout, “You haven’t ev-” The horn signaling the end of the game cut off your sentence. You shot Jun a confused look, but only received a shrug from him. The same infuriating smirk from earlier was once again plastered on his lips.

You stood up from the ground and followed Jun back to the front of the forest, leaving your teammates to cut down the two demigods who were still caught in the rope trap. Your nerves quickly began to overtake you the closer you got to the entrance of the forest. You scoured your mind for any memory of whether or not your team’s flag had been taken. You surely would’ve noticed it was gone when you were leaving with Jun. You tried to convince yourself that your team had won as you and Jun joined the crowd of demigods.

“It was a very close call!” The camp director’s voice silenced the whispers among the sea of orange campers. “But the winner is...blue!” Cheers erupted from the winning team. Congratulations, cheers, and even grumbles echoed throughout the camp.

“I’ll be at your cabin by eight.” Jun smirked, patting your back. You turned to complain, but he was already walking in the opposite direction. The gods were seemingly against you when it came to not falling into Jun’s hands.

You still had four hours your dreadful date with Jun. A date, you thought. More like an elaborate plan to ruin me. But that was the problem. No matter how hard you thought about it you could never figure out why he was going so far to just leave you high and dry in the end. Of course the possibility of this all being a dare had crossed your mind, especially with the way he approached you the other night, but in all your years at camp with him you’d never seen him so determined.

Your mind clouded with explanations as to why he could be doing this as you wandered back towards your cabin. “Someone doesn’t look very harmonious today.” Soonyoung said as you entered your cabin. Him being the son of Eos, the goddess of dawn, also landed him in the cabin full of children of minor Greek deities.

“You wouldn’t be happy either if you had to go on a date with someone known for playing with other’s feelings.”

“A date? With who?”

“Wen Junhui.”

Soonyoung stared at you in shock, “You agreed to go on a date with him? Wait but you’re supposed to be hard to get! This isn’t going to be any fun if he gets you so easily.” Soonyoung groaned, throwing his head back in annoyance. You didn’t have the slightest clue what he was rambling about.

“What do you mean by ‘fun’?” You asked. You would’ve never guessed that Soonyoung, one of your own cabin mates, would have a hand in Jun trying to get you to fall for him. Soonyoung fiddled with his thumbs, clearly growing nervous under your stare. “Are you the reason he’s been trying so hard to get me to like him?”

“When you put it that way then yes, but it’s his fault! If he wouldn’t be so cocky about his ability to flirt then I would’ve never dared him to make you fall in love with him!” Soonyoung chuckled nervously.

“You dared him to what?”

“Make you fall in love with him?”

You sighed, trying to calm down the growing anger building up inside of you. “Ok, well, two can play at that game.” You gave Soonyoung a thin-lipped smile as you left to your room within the cabin. “If he thinks he can make me fall in love with him then I’ll just give him a taste of his own medicine.”

_____

The hour of the date came by slowly. You wanted to look your best to impress Jun, and when he showed up at your cabin door he was definitely impressed. “You know, I really think you like me.” Jun said upon seeing you. You shrugged as the two of you began to walk in step. You had no clue where Jun was taking you, but that gave you a tinge of excitement. You followed Jun down the dirt paths until you could see the lake coming into view. How cliche, you thought.

“I know this is where most dates happen, but there’s really no where else to go in camp. I tried making it kind of pretty thought.” Jun said, leading you across the sand and towards a blanket. The setting sun cast hues of red and orange across the water. If you didn’t absolutely despise Jun you thought you might really enjoy the date. Jun brushed some sand that had been blown onto the blanket back off before offering you a place next to him.

“You really outdid yourself, Junhui.” You smiled as you sat down next to him. You leaned back on your arms, taking in the sunset. Jun couldn’t help but watch you. It wasn’t like him to take anyone on a date, even if said date was won through a bet, but he felt himself wanting to do it again. He found satisfaction in planning something that would impress you.

“Still not at the nicknames stage in our relationship yet, huh?” Jun said, keeping his eyes fixed on your profile. He would be lying to himself if he didn’t find himself attracted to you. You kept him on the edge of his seat, dying of curiosity everytime your mouth opened.

“You wish we were in a relationship.” You laughed, pushing his arm. Jun couldn’t help but smile. A part of him felt regret that he only pursued you because of a dare.

“I think it’s the other way around.” He said. Jun turned his gaze to the lake in front of the two of you. The sun was starting to hide behind the horizon as the evening grew dark. “We should go back once it gets dark.”

This time it’s your turn to watch his profile. Before then you’d never really looked at him closely. From afar he was undeniably handsome, but the closer you looked at him the more his sharp features looked elegant, especially in the orange light. You felt yourself wanting to trace the highpoints of his face, if only to get to know him better. In the four years you had been at camp -- Jun having arrived a year before you -- you never thought to let yourself get close to someone like Jun. He broke hearts, you’d remind yourself. Don’t get your heart broken by a demigod.

“Thank you for taking me to watch the sunset. It was really nice, even though all you did was lay out a blanket.” Your heart momentarily stopped when Jun turned from the water to meet your gaze. You despised how attractive he was, but you more so despised that you wouldn’t let yourself fall for him, opting to play his little game of love instead of just giving into him.

“I’d like to see you think of a better spontaneous date.” Jun scoffed. Silence washed over the two of you as your attention locked onto the sunset. You used to imagine going on dates like this and watching the sunset with someone who you were head over heels for, but instead you had Jun. Maybe he wasn’t so bad after all.

“Challenge accepted. I’ll come find you sometime this week and we’ll go on a date.” You were speaking before you could comprehend what you were saying. Don’t be nervous, you told yourself. It’s all to play him the same way he’s playing you. Jun’s attention returned back to you, a foreign feeling growing in the pit of his stomach. He assumed this is what butterflies felt like. The fluttering feeling spread throughout his body like a blissful poison the more he thought about the prospect of you taking him on a date instead of the other way around. Maybe this was beginning to become less of a dare for him and more of a personal want.

Your sudden movement to get up from the blanket startled Jun, pulling him from his thoughts. “Hey! What’re you doing?” He asked quickly. His brain was racing a hundred miles per hour as he tried to think of anything that would get you to stay with him a little longer.

“It’s getting dark, Junhui. We have to go, unless you want to get caught and put on kitchen duty for the next week?” You reached a hand out to him to pull him up from the blanket. Jun, who clearly didn’t want to leave, grabbed your hand and let you pull him up. “Don’t be such a baby. You’ll probably end up bothering me tomorrow since you can’t seem to stay away from me.” You said teasingly. In truth you had begun to enjoy Jun’s constant presence the past few days.

“It’s not considered bothersome if you like it.” He said, winking at you. You felt your heart jump as he held onto your hand, leading you back towards the cabins.

“Aren’t you forgetting the blanket?”

“I took it from Soonyoung so it’s his responsibility.”

_____

The days following your date with Jun you tried your hardest to avoid him to keep true to your promise of a spontaneous date. Well it’d be spontaneous for him, but not so much for you. Staying clear of Jun was easier said than done, especially once he figured out you were avoiding him. It was both terrifying and amazing how he never failed to end up in the same area as you.

“Wait! Why are you avoiding me? I thought our date went well.” His usual smile was contorted into a frown as he spoke to you. It was strange not seeing his smile plastered to his face. You hated it. The way the corners of his mouth edged down or how his eyebrows furrowed together. You didn’t want to admit it, but you felt evil being the reason his face wasn’t beaming with joy as he looked at you.

“I was planning a date, and I didn’t want you to figure out what it was.” You mumbled, looking anywhere but at him. The frown that was previously on his face quickly turned back into its normal smile. Jun knew he was in too deep the moment his heart began to pound against his chest at the idea of another date with you. He couldn’t figure out why he liked you so much. It felt normal to him.

“Oh, in that case keep ignoring me.” Jun’s smile beamed at you despite your confused look. “Hold on, I meant like keep planning the date ignoring.” You couldn’t help smiling at his flustered attempt to back-track.

“I know what you meant. I’m just teasing you.”

Jun’s attention was pulled from you as he heard his name being called. In a matter of seconds Soonyoung had run up to Jun, slinging his arm around his friend’s shoulder. “Everything ok in love-ville?” He asked, a shit-eating grin already starting to take shape.

You rolled your eyes, “We’re not in a relationship.” Your eyes met Jun’s has you spoke. You could’ve sworn you thought you saw something flash in them. What is he thinking, you wondered. Jun turned to look at Soonyoung once again. His face mimicked his friend’s.

“You know I can’t be tied down, Soon. It’d make the Jun fanclub sad.” Jun dragged a finger from his eye down his cheek as if he was crying, earning a barking laugh from Soonyoung. You felt a pang in your chest. He was still the Jun you knew. The same boy who flirted mercilessly with anyone who looked at him. The same boy known for breaking hearts. How would you be any different?

“I gotta go. See you later, Soonyoung.” You began walking off, not bothering to acknowledge Jun’s confused questioning. He’s Wen Junhui, you reminded yourself. He’d break your heart before you could even chip at his own.

As you walked back to your cabin you made a promise to yourself. You’d cut him off, and the past few days that you spent with him glued to your side would become a buried memory. You can’t teach an old dog new tricks, and you can’t teach Jun to tie himself down.

Jun groaned and pushed Soonyoung’s arm off of him. He knew he said something stupid in order to protect his pride. “What do you want Soonyoung?”

“Just wanted to check in on how your dare is going, and it didn’t look to be going too smoothly.” Soonyoung shrugged. His uncaring demeanor bothered Jun, though he couldn’t pick out why.

“Whatever.” Jun said, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Seems like you’re bothered about them leaving,” Soonyoung gasped dramatically. “Has Wen Junhui developed feelings for someone?” Jun shot him a glare.

“No, I don’t get crushes. I have to go to the archery range. See you later, Soon.” Jun walked off without waiting for Soonyoung to respond. He knew his friend would’ve seen straight through his lie if he kept the conversation going.

_____

As the days passed by Jun began to miss you. He tried time after time to speak to you, but everytime you would spot him you’d immediately turn in the other direction. He was sure you wanted nothing to do with him, but could he blame you? He said he wouldn’t settle into a relationship right in front of you after you had told him you’d take him on a date. This was entirely his fault.

“I need your help.” Jun fiddled with his fingers, keeping his gaze on his feet. He knew he’d never hear the end of this, but he was becoming desperate to just talk to you.

“With what?” His voice sounded amused. “What could Wen Junhui need help with?”

“I need you to ask someone down to the beach tonight.”

“That’s it? Alright, who?”

“The child of Harmonia. They won’t say no to you. Hell, no one would; you’re a son of Zeus, Mingyu.” Jun knew Mingyu didn’t like using his parentage to get what he wanted, but it was such a rare thing for Jun to ask for someone’s help that Mingyu couldn’t turn him down.

“You’ll owe me after this.” Mingyu smiled, patting Jun’s back. He would be lying if he wasn’t the least bit curious as to who you were, especially if Jun liked you enough to ask for someone’s help. Jun felt relief surge through him as Mingyu agreed to help.

“Thank you so much! Ask them to meet you at around 7 o’clock.” A giddy smile spread across Jun’s face. He was finally talking to you tonight. He was finally going to fix everything. He just had to make it a few more hours.

Jun thanked Mingyu a few more times before stepping out of his cabin. Briefly he caught a glimpse of you heading towards the archery range, but he didn’t feel the need to try to rush after you. “Everything will be fixed.” He mumbled to himself, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

_____

You waited down at the beach for Mingyu. The cool air nipped at your skin as the sun began to set below the horizon. The longer he took the more you considered just leaving instead of possibly getting stood up by Mingyu. Yet you stayed and continued waiting for the boy to come find you down at the beach. “Did he electrocute himself or am I being stood up?” You asked aloud. You were sure there was no one at the beach besides you, but his voice was unmistakable.

“No, cause I’m here.” Jun stood up from where he was sitting. Any reasonable person would’ve felt terrified seeing someone suddenly appear from who knows where, but you didn’t blink twice.

“What do you want, Junhui?” You felt your heart drop as he stepped closer to you.

“I need to talk to you. Please just stay and listen.”

“I’m here to meet Mingyu so it’ll have to wait till another time.” You crossed your arms. You studied him for a moment, taking in the pleading look he had in his eyes.

“About that…” Jun’s sentence trailed off. You got stood up. Great, you thought. “In his defense, I asked him to ask you to come here!”

“I’m never trusting anyone here ever again,” you sighed. “But what do you want to say?”

Jun smiled, relieved that you were letting him explain himself. “The other week, when I said I couldn’t be tied down, it was a lie. I wasn’t thinking, and I knew that Soonyoung would make my life a living hell if I didn’t say something cocky like that. The truth is that I do like you. A lot.”

“How am I supposed to believe that? You’re not exactly known for being a picture perfect boyfriend.” Your words sounded harsher than what you intended. Jun’s smile faltered. You were right.

“Have you noticed I’ve been trying to chase after you every time I saw you? And why would I ask Kim Mingyu to help me get you down here to talk to me if I didn’t mean what I was saying?” You paused. He had a point, but you still had a hard time believing him.

“I don’t blame you for being hesitant, but I swear to you I’m being truthful.” Jun reached out to grab your hand, and you let him take it. You searched his face for any hints of deception.

“Okay Jun,” you said quietly. “I’ll believe you.”

If your past self could see you, holding onto Jun’s hands and looking into his eyes, you would’ve called yourself stupid. And maybe you were stupid for beginning to fall for him, but he was falling just as hard for you.

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littlesparklight · 5 years

Text

Murder at Thymbra

Children die first. Troilus’ murder from the back end, with Ganymede and Apollo.

(angst, mention of a murdered child and other character death)

He hadn't meant to overhear. He hadn't been meant to hear it, Ganymede knew that, for it was obvious the two goddesses hadn't noticed him. Which was a relief, for then there was no reason to wonder if he had been meant to hear it.

In the end, of course, it caused the same amount of cold, twisting thorniness in his gut, as well as an undeniable, crawling burn through his limbs, which had replaced the immediate, threatening pressure at the back of his throat while he'd listened to Hera and Athena. It could still be okay. It could; nine years gone, so many resources (lives) wasted, surely the Achaeans would finally give up, now. Who cared if they'd finally been able to take the beach close to Troy and settle in for a siege? The walls were taller and more solid than anything mortal hands could have wrought.

Because those walls hadn't been built by mortal hands. So it'd be fine, right? Unless the fact that Laomedon hadn't properly and willingly paid for the wall would matter. For a moment, Ganymede stopped in his pacing, slumped against one of the pillars in the megaron's portico, kicking a heel back against the pillar's pedestal, and was once again overtaken by the well-worn but persistent incredulity attached to that train of thought. Why had Laomedon thought it was even remotely a good idea not to pay the agreed-upon price after it was quite clear the builders of the wall around the city could not be regular mortals? Who does that? How recklessly stupid could you be? For a brief, shining moment, Ganymede was uncomplicatedly frustrated over something that probably had no bearing on the current events, something he could be annoyed at, not worried about. It was nice.

Then his thoughts cycled back to wondering if the walls would truly be able to withstand the siege thanks to Laomedon's foolishness. If they could, if they could, then the Achaeans could dash themselves bloody against the thick, towering walls and the nine years would have left them nothing. Relatively, anyway. There were lots of cities up and down the Luwian and Thracian coastline and a little beyond, even, that had suffered terribly for this. So many lives lost... But if the walls could hold, at least Troy wouldn't join those.

If.

The word echoed in his head without dying away as Ganymede chewed on a knuckle, staring at the shining-smooth floor and the pattern of light and shadow the pillars cast. It took him several seconds to realize the rhythmic thumping wasn't his thoughts loudly going round and round in unceasing pattern like one of Hephaistos' mechanical inventions, but rather steps. Looking up and twisting around the pillar, Ganymede was just in time to see Apollo storm past him - the god must have gone into the megaron and now gotten out without Ganymede noticing. Or him noticing Ganymede, but then, by his dark, hollow-eyed expression, cast down at the ground instead of raised high in front of him, Apollo didn't seem to be seeing anything.

He was undoubtedly looking for Zeus, and had thought to look in the megaron first, which was, unfortunately empty. As Apollo went down the steps, Ganymede hesitated. If the god was looking for his father, then it wasn't something Ganymede should stick his nose in, probably. But...

"... Lord Apollo?" He spoke up, quietly, just as Apollo stepped off the last step, and it would have been easy for Apollo to ignore him. Instead he whirled around with such alacrity one of the loose tresses spilling down his throat and shoulder smacked him in the chin, blue eyes dark with some unmentionable fury. It made him look older, ageless and terrible. Ganymede could only remember him having looked like this once before. "Sorry! I was just---!"

Snapping his mouth closed as Apollo practically flew up the stairs again, Ganymede was proud to say he didn't cringe back against the pillar (though it was a near thing). He didn't truly fear any harm at Apollo's hands, but the god almost seemed to see nothing as he came up the stairs and then stopped in front of him. His eyes were fire as he reached out with hands that trembled slightly, and cradled Ganymede's face in both hands. The he just stood there. Staring, somewhere slightly above the top of Ganymede's head, his fingers catching in Ganymede's curls, his thumbs light as he stroked his cheeks. His hands were still trembling, and his mouth was twisted, lips pressed thin.

"... Lord Apollo? What happened?" Because clearly something had, and once again Ganymede was reminded of the only other time he had seen Apollo look like this. It'd been after Zeus had killed Asclepios.

"Sit with me."

Usually, Apollo asked. That, though, had not been a request, but Ganymede nodded anyway. Found himself sitting in between Apollo's legs, strong, sleekly-muscled around wrapped around his waist and Apollo's face buried in his hair. Rocking slightly, his voice almost unintelligible for how quiet he was being and for how deep he'd buried his face in Ganymede's hair.

He was singing.

Nothing like he usually would sing, and it took Ganymede long, precious minutes to actually figure out what it was, for it was a tangled mess that went between Achaean and Luwian, back and forth. It would have been a marvel if not for the emotion in the words, for the meaning was flawlessly preserved as Apollo slid from one language to the other. Ganymede rather wished he hadn't understood.

For it was deep-dirged and aching, every single syllable half-choked with as much fury as anguish, and he didn't need to be told to understand what had happened. Someone had died. Someone precious to Apollo had died, and as far as Ganymede knew, there were right now only a limited amount of people it could be and he feared, then, as selfish as despairing and compassionate, for the smaller number of which he really would rather not it be. The tangle in his gut grew up, out. Twined around his heart, and Ganymede had to swallow heavily before he tried to speak, but he was worried he'd end up embarrassing himself anyway.

Maybe it didn't matter, considering the song, pressing into his body, pulling at his insides, the already unsettled worries, considering the way Apollo was clutching at him with trembling hands, but then, really, the tears should be Apollo's, not his. What right did he have to cry about it?

(What right didn't he?)

"A-apollo---"

"Hush. Shh. Quiet." A kiss was pressed to the back of his head like he'd been the one singing, like his voice had been as sludgy as Apollo's was. Yes, it was close, but the lack of precise knowledge was as of yet protecting Ganymede from the full impact. "Just sit, Iliades."

He almost cracked, then. Almost. By the chosen epithet, it was obvious what this was about. What the Achaeans' nascent siege must already have wrought. Had Hera and Athena not known yet? Had they not cared about that? Maybe it hadn't happened until after their conversation. Ganymede hoped for the first or the last, despite everything. Maybe it was more than what was deserved, but he still hoped it.

"Who---"

"What's going on here?"

Jumping at Zeus' voice as his shadow fell over them, Ganymede might have stammered through a mess of absolutely nothing because he didn't know what he was supposed to feel at the moment, or how to react to being found like this. He glanced up sideways, wide-eyed and full of his own emotions as much as Apollo's, soaking through his singing. Zeus didn't look angry, just bewildered, then, as he met Ganymede's gaze, it started to slide over into concerned.

"Father," Apollo said, and then his voice cracked, right at the end. Depthless anger and distress wove together into a single, terrible emotion, and Zeus sat down. Reached out, not for Ganymede but Apollo, a large hand sliding around to cradle the side of his head, tangling in hair that was starting to fray. Apollo's hair never frayed. "Achilles--- killed Troilus."

Ganymede sucked in a breath that got stuck there, lodged in his throat like an arrow.

Child.

How old had he been? Thirteen, fourteen, maybe. Skilled enough with horses that if one was in pressing need one could have put the boy on a chariot and he could single-handedly probably have assured as many victories as would have pleased.

"Right in front of my sanctuary," Apollo said, hissing now, and Ganymede would have bruises but he said nothing, "he was... fleeing towards it, but didn't, get far enough."

Didn't get to the altar. Didn't get far enough to give Apollo the unquestionable and unalienable right to come down like night, like summer sun and starving lioness on the offender who would kill a supplicant at a god's (at his father's) altar. Close. Not close enough.

Closing his eyes, Ganymede managed to swallow the obstruction stuck in his throat, though it convulsed with it. Twisted around in Apollo's grip against his wounded protest, but only to get up on his knees and wind his arms around the god's shoulders, burying Apollo's face against his chest instead while he looked to Zeus. Gray met Ganymede's gaze for a moment before Zeus closed his eyes, mouth twisting into a flat line. Apollo twisted his hands into the back of Ganymede's tunic and straight up howled.

Briefly, the sun darkened, a flicker of night in the middle of day. The clouds appeared as if conjured, and then the sky opened up. They were just barely protected by the portico's roof from the deluge hammering down outside.

"Thanatos!" Zeus' voice rolled through the air, shaded with thunder, but Apollo didn't so much as twitch as the startled god appeared beside them, already looking wary. He didn't get a chance to speak.

"Fetch the body and make sure it's in pristine condition before you hand it to Priam and Hecuba for burial."

It wasn't a fix; there was no way to fix this. Done was done, and rarely were gifts such as Hyacinth given once, never mind twice. Worse was the implication of Zeus' words, that he expected the body to probably be mutilated. A boy. Did Achilles have no shame? Thanatos relaxed even as he frowned, mouth setting.

"It'll be done, Father Zeus." Thanatos bowed his head, fathomless eyes falling onto Apollo's bowed head. "I'm sorry, Phoebus."

He was gone in the next moment, leaving the three of them there on the highest step to the megaron, rain falling like thunder. Apollo was silent now, and for as much as Ganymede had had to defend himself against the swell of misery Apollo's song had been trying to dredge up, it seemed somehow worse that he should be silent, that there would be no singing for the child until Troy could get their youngest prince back for burial.

So Ganymede closed his eyes, relaxing a little into the warmth of Zeus' other hand as it landed on his hip, below Apollo's arms, fought with his memory for what he needed, a Luwian funerary song, and sang instead.

#greek mythology #apollo #ganymede #lightart

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gospelofsam · 5 years

Text

OLYMPUS BOUND

OO1 . COUNCIL OF WAR

Zeus sat on his golden throne with pride, although a storm surged below him in his anger.

Flanking his right was his faithful, if not angry, sister-wife, the White-Armed Hera, her silken dress adorned with a cloak of green, blue, and purple peacock feathers. The Queen of the Heavens gripped her scepter tight in her soft hands. Her hair was well-kept, laying in a crown of braids atop her head.

To the Thunderhead’s left sat his second-in-command and brother, Poseidon, King of the Seven Seas. He bore blue tattoos in which depicted his undersea kingdom. In his hands was his trident, a mighty symbol of power forged from bronze and whalebone. The Earthshaker’s hair and stubble was sea green, his sides bearing a set of fish-like gills.

The Mountain King’s most adored son and daughter walked into the atrium, bowed, then took to their thrones awaiting council.

Phoebus Apollo, God of the Sun and Patron of the Arts, golden haired and dressed in a golden tunic, thrummed the strings of his lyre, filling the room with the sound of his sweet music.

Pallas Athena, Goddess of Wisdom and Strategy of War, wore a long blue dress reinforced with pieces of silver armor and a helmet decorated with a plume of blue horsehair. Her eyes were a striking gray, her skin fair, her hair as black as the midnight sky. The owl that had perched itself on her shielded arm bore feathers the color of rainclouds.

“Where are the others, your Highness?” Athena asked, tucking her helmet in the crook of her arm.

“They will be here soon enough. My bastards arrive now,” Zeus gestured to the Warrior and the Blacksmith. Ares Enyalios, God of War and Murder, glowed with the bloody red of his fallen enemies, a spear in one hand.

Ares said nothing to Zeus, not even looking in his direction, but he did march to his mother Hera. He planted a kiss to her cheek, then asked, “Why have I been called, your Majesty?” One couldn’t even glimpse his face through the darkness of his iron helmet with a crest of fire, although they could lay witness to the horror of his exposed body. He was without skin, showing only pink and red muscle, sinews and tendons underneath his armor.

Hephaestus, on the other hand, wasn’t as large or as strong as his brother. He was lame, his left leg shriveled like a sun-dried worm. He made up for this, though, with his industrial intuition. He burned with an orange light and used his black sledgehammer as a crutch. He, too, walked to his lone parent asking, “Where is my beloved, your Grace?”

“I’m here, you pig,” Aphrodite walked into the room followed by Hermes, the Messenger, and Artemis, the huntress and twin sister to Phoebus Apollo. Any mortal would see their wildest desires come to life in the Goddess of Love, but Aphrodite put on a specific appearance for the Olympian Council. She was fair skinned with flowing ginger hair. While the Huntress and the Messenger took to their respective thrones, Aphrodite stalked to her love Ares, running her perfectly manicured hands down the length of his body. Hephaestus ignored his wife’s infidelity, as he still loved her with all of his heart. “Is there a reason to why I’ve been evicted from my lovers, your Bitchiness?”

“You will cease your perversions, Patron of Prostitutes.” Zeus commanded, slamming his lightning down onto the marble floor. “My love,” Zeus pointed to Hera with the bolt, “The floor is yours.”

Hera rose from her throne and tapped her lotus-tipped scepter on the oval floor, creating a window of magic upon the grounds surrounding Mount Olympus. “The Titans have returned. They have broken free from their prisons and are declaring war on the Greek Pantheon. My messenger, Iris, has informed me that they have gained both the trust and support of the Hecatoncheires.”

“How many are still alive after billions of years in Tartarus?” Ares asked as he sat Aphrodite in his lap, her soft hands continuing to trace the swirls and slivers of his flesh.

“Enough to storm Olympus and burn it to the ground.” Poseidon solemnly answered.

“I see,” Ares picked up his spear and paced the length of the room, the fire of his helmet leaving behind a trail of embers. “And what of us? What say you? Are the Olympians fighting alone or are we fighting the Titans at are full ranks?” As Ares paced, his bronze armor changed and shifted. He remained skinless but was now armored in many plates of SWAT gear. His spear had been replaced with an assault rifle adorned with a grenade launcher, and at his side was a large assortment of explosives.

The waves of the sea stirred with Poseidon’s mind. “We can all fight for a millennia if we must, but it will hardly be enough. The Moirai, who will be fighting in their own ways, have glimpsed into the future. They have told my brother, your father, what will happen after this war.”

Zeus held his head high, “We will all perish. You will die, as will Atlas. Aphrodite will fall, as will Mnemosyne. And I will die, as will Kronos.”

Ares returned to his throne. “I see…” He now saw a young woman singing of war and destruction for a crowd of rejects. “This prophecy, as cruel as it might be, doesn’t need to entail our downfall. Yes, we will die, but the universe must be kept in balance on our end.”

Athena, who had remained silent the entirety of the meeting, strode to her half-brother’s side. “What I believe Ares is trying to make clear is that our Pantheon must go on. As much as I dislike agreeing with him, I believe replacements, successors, are in order.”

“We will hold the line, and Olympus will prevail!” Ares, in all his glory, stood in his iron fortress on the edge of Mount Olympus, his soldiers ever ready.

Hermes watched over the confounds of Olympus, his winged sandals fluttering to keep him upright. He called down to his Zeus, his father, “We need a contingency!”

Zeus nodded, then wore a gray business suit. The King of the Heavens now stood on a beach, where children were being taught how to surf along the waves. As he walked, his thundery hair and lighting filled eyes crackled with solemn determination. He conjured his bolt of lightning, a column of crackling copper, silver, and gold coiled around each other.

He paid no mind to the surfing children, instead focusing his attention solely on their instructor. She was young, no more than fifteen, with midnight black hair. Her arms were decorated in Polynesian tattoos. She had an inquisitive mind, one that wanted to command. A mind that wanted to rule. She was happily clapping, cheering on one of the young ones for managing to surf along a sizeable wave.

Despite her protests, the God King pulled her away from the site, placing the bolt between her hands once they were away from prying eyes. In that instant, Audra fell to her knees in agony. Her hands burned as glowing gray lightning bolts branded themselves into her palms. “Do me proud, Audra Noelani.”

Artemis walked through the tents as the soldiers of the Northern Union recovered themselves. Apollo walked beside his sister as they weaved in between the man-made covers. It was then that they saw them.

One of the children bore long, wispy black hair and gray eyes, while her cousin has golden brown eyes and blond locks. Artemis and Apollo, Twin Gods of the Sun and Moon, took aim with their golden and silver bows, releasing them with pride and determination. As the arrow pierced Charlotte’s shoulder, a crescent moon burning itself into her pale skin, Artemis knelt before her and said, “Come now, little one, you’re safe now.”

Charlotte, now glowing with a faint silver light, scurried to her younger cousin’s side as his scream pierced the air. A sigil replicating the sun itself etched into his Adam’s apple. The Golden Archer knelt before the crying boy, offering a smile and a smaller bow constructed of gold and cherry wood. As Gabriel took the bow and quiver with shaky, hesitant hands, Apollo said, “ Don’t be scared now. You’re alright, I’m here now.”

With a flash of pure light, the twin gods and the two children disappeared, leaving behind a grieving, frantic mother and aunt and a legacy shrouded in mystery. The Missing Children of Hue would be what remained of Charlotte May-Reiner and Gabriel LeBeau.

Hephaestus rolled through the humble, family owned mechanics shop, his electric wheelchair humming as he went. His brown pinstripe looked out of place amongst the haphazardly arranged equipment and oil stained aprons. The Blacksmith at last ventured towards the back of the shop, where a paraplegic boy with shaggy red hair and lanky body tinkered with pieces of what was probably a larger project.

Hephaestus’ hands conjured a flame, eliciting a flow of lava to pour out of the seams of the storage room. The walls surrounding the boy burned, though no one but he could see them. Hephaestus retrieved his massive sledgehammer from the embers, then rolled over to the boy, who was justifiably frightened. The god struck the boy in his kneecaps, the blows burning into the shape of orange anvils. The child, no more than twelve, bellowed in pain, tears pricking his eyes. Hephaestus steadied the boy, taking the metal pieces he’d been tinkering with previously and reworked them, changing them into a swan much too delicate to have been crafted by the Blacksmith’s large hands. The swan fluttered around the boy’s head, momentarily distracting him from his pain.

“We have much to do, young one,” The Lame God said. “Come now.” The boy snapped his head towards the Blacksmith, nodding despite his hesitance.

Ares, wearing a full set of riot armor, leaning against the balcony of the underground club where punks and rejects and society outcasts gathered to socialize. On the stage, illuminated by red, black and white lights, was a band which went unnamed, as their reputation spoke for them. His fiery gaze shifted to their lead vocalist, a rather tall Latina with short, choppy brown hair. She had the build of someone who had played sports as a child, or, in the god’s perspective, one fit for a warrior. A crow, as if on cue, perched on her shoulder.

The God of War drew his long, razor sharp spear and then took aim. “You’ll make a perfect champion.” Ares threw the now glowing spear at the girl, her collarbone now burning as a red boar’s head took its place where the wound should have been. Aloisa laughed at the pain, proceeding to draw her pocketknife and lunge at her guitarist.

Athena wore a simple linen gown, though it was adorned with identifying plates of Athenian armor. She studied the scrolls strewn across the villa floor, her face as stone cold as it had been during the Council meeting. Most depicted machines that could never possibly work, others were just the ramblings of a madman. She set one of the scrolls onto the mahogany table, casting her gaze over to the boy who stood idle in the doorway. He was twelve, maybe older, with hair so blonde that it was nearly white. His eyes were a striking, glassy silver hue.

Before he could speak and alert anyone that might have been lingering outside, Athena took a paintbrush from a cup that littered the table and broke the art supply into two jagged halves.

The boy stared at the Goddess of Wisdom with wide eyes, the papers he’d been holding crashing to the stone floor. She approached him carefully, a rare smile on her wise face. Kneeling down to the child’s height, Athena used the broken end of the brush to carve an owl into the side of his neck. The young one seethed in pain, nails digging into his pale palms. The owl pulsed with a light the same silver as his eyes.

“I have so much planned for you, Cato,” Pallas Athena sighed, raising to her full height. “You will be the wisest of us.” She took his hand in her own, leading Cato away from the life and the people that had forsaken him so.

#greek gods #twelve olympians #zeus #hera #poseidon #hades #demeter #hestia #athena #artemis #apollo #ares #aphrodite #dionysus #hermes #original story

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flightfoot · 5 years

Text

A Convergence of Apollos Chapter 4

Percy’s POV

We caught the subway to the Empire State Building.

I know, I know. We could’ve just walked, it wasn’t THAT far. But none of us felt like hauling an upset metal bird around farther than we had to. Plus, while I felt great (that rain did wonders for my energy), and Grover and Meg looked reasonably energetic, Apollo was BEAT. He’d been so excited about the new clothes he’d crafted... and had crashed a few minutes later. I’d thought I’d have to carry him to the subway, which would’ve been hard since I was already carrying the birdcage. I guess summoning all those things took a lot out of him.

Some other passengers looked at us disapprovingly as we hauled our bird cage around. I guess they didn’t like how rough we were being with our ‘pet’, but after what the Celedon had put us through, I REALLY didn’t care.

Apollo collapsed on a nearby seat, breathing hard. He didn’t look sleepy at least, just exhausted.

Was all of this tiredness just from playing the lyre?

Then again, I didn’t know what he’d been doing BEFORE he materialized in the park...

Now seemed as good a time as any to find out.

“Hey Apollo?”

He looked up at me wearily. “Yeah?”

“How DID you wind up time traveling anyways?”

He let out a long sigh. “Meg and I were looking through Tarquin’s Tomb-”

“Who’s Tarquin?”

“The last Roman Emperor. He was SO bad, he was overthrown and the Roman Republic was instated.”

Apollo continued, “Anyways, we were looking through his tomb for the Sibylline books, which contain a lot of ancient prophecies. I always thought they’d been burned, but apparently not. At least, not all of them. We didn’t really know where to look, so Meg and I just kinda wandered around trying not to die.”

I nodded sagely. “Always the best plan. Dying sucks. No blue food in Elysium.”

Ok, so I didn’t actually know whether that last one was true. But considering how happy the dead were with simple Happy Meals, I figured that they didn’t have very good food down there.

Apollo laughed, a bit more life returning to his face. I grinned back at him. Was this really the same person who’d proclaimed that heroes were for running the god’s errands? He just seemed like another kid, like another demigod, fighting beside us and trying not to let anyone he cared about die, or die himself.

I still didn’t get how a god could change so drastically, but maybe... maybe they really weren’t that different?

This kind, dorky teen... maybe this side of Apollo was hidden away in the present Apollo too.

I hoped so.

Apollo chuckled, “Well, I don’t know about THAT, but I agree about dying. Pretty sure my sister would charge into the Underworld herself, drag me back, then kill me again for dying on her.”

Yes, that did sound like Artemis.

“ANYWAY, getting back on track here, we searched the tomb for awhile with no success.”

“Unless you call ‘getting chased by your nose moss’ a success,” Meg cut in.

“Eurynomos,” Apollo corrected.

“Whatever.”

“So I asked my magic prophetic arrow where I needed to go-”

I knew I shouldn’t interrupt, but I HAD to ask. “Magic prophetic arrow?”

“The Arrow of Dodona. It talks in a fake Shakespearean accent and insults me constantly. It’s quite annoying. Plus I’m the only one who can hear it, so I look like a crazy person when I consult it.”

Well, not the weirdest thing I’d heard of. Heck, not the weirdest thing I’d heard of TODAY.

“The arrow told me to go to a particular room and find a cloth woven from Fate’s threads. We searched around for awhile and found it tucked away in a chest. Then SOMEONE-” Apollo glared at Meg, who looked back, completely unperturbed, “-thought it was a brilliant idea to grab hold of something woven by the Fates themselves. I grabbed onto Meg, we vanished, then fell onto the ground with a bad case of motion sickness. And, well, you know the rest.”

I frowned. “Do you know how to get back to your time? WHETHER you can get back?”

Apollo closed his eyes, his brows furrowing. “I- I hope we can get back. No, we MUST get back. Our friends need us! I have to believe that the Arrow set us on this path for a reason.”

“Wow, you have a lot of faith in that Arrow,” I observed.

Apollo laughed wryly. “Nope. But if I allow myself to believe that we’ll never get home and that all our friends and family will die, I’m going to panic.”

Oh. Fair enough.

I decided to change subjects.

“So anything you can tell me about what’s gonna happen? Anything that will help?”

Apollo was quiet for a moment, thinking. Finally he spoke.

“First of all, you should know that I’m only from two years into the future. It’s going to be a BUSY two years. And I don’t remember that much. I wasn’t paying much attention to the world around me all of the time. Also, shoving four thousand years of memories into a mortal brain REALLY doesn’t work well. I’ve forgotten a lot, and what I DO remember isn’t always useful. But I’ll try to help.”

“Typhon was freed, and we gods left to fight him - well most of us, anyway. We didn’t succeed against him until Poseidon joined the fight.”

Apollo looked at me thoughtfully. “I believe that you were the one to convince him to intervene. I don’t remember how you persuaded him, unfortunately.”

He continued while I mulled that over, “Typhon was a distraction. While he kept us gods busy, you demigods defended Mount Olympus from Kronos’s forces.”

He frowned, looking at me, “I don’t remember a lot of details, but I remember this much: the fight started a few days before your birthday, and ended ON your birthday. You’re the child who reached sixteen, but NOT the Hero of the Prophecy. LUKE was the hero. He chose to save Olympus at the last second.”

Wait, what? “Uh, Apollo, you realize that I’ve never actually heard the full prophecy, right?”

He blinked.

“Really?”

“Really.”

“You should probably learn it then. If I remember right, it goes:

A half-blood of the Eldest gods

Shall reach sixteen, against all odds.

And see the world in endless sleep.

Hero’s soul, cursed blade shall reap.

A single choice shall end his days,

Olympus to preserve or raze.

Well that didn’t sound great. Then again, prophecies rarely did.

I pressed Apollo for details, wanting every bit of foreknowledge I could get. “What choice did Luke make? What endless sleep? What’s the cursed blade?”

Apollo shook his head. “I’m sorry Percy. I don’t remember.”

Looking at his mournful face, I believed him.

“So what else CAN you tell me?”

He hesitated for a moment. Carefully, he asked, “Percy? Do you remember how I mentioned Thalia’s brother?”

I nodded. How could I forget?

“Well, the reason he and Thalia were separated, the reason she was led to believe he was dead... is because he’s ROMAN, not Greek.”

What?

The confusion must have been clear on my face. Apollo elaborated, “We gods change to fit the culture we’re in. The longer and deeper the impact of that culture on us and the more different that image is, the more we differ. For most of us gods we default to Greek as our sort of ‘base’ form, but we have Roman forms as well who can look act differently. We sometimes have kids while we’re in Roman form. Those kids don’t go to Camp Half-Blood. Instead they travel to the Wolf House, where Lupa decides whether they’re strong enough to train. If she accepts them, then she’ll train them off and send them towards Camp Jupiter. If not... well... let’s just say that Lupa isn’t kind to the weak. And she doesn’t mind the taste of demigod flesh.”

I felt slightly ill. “How many does she... erm... usually fail?”

Apollo thought for a moment. “You know, I can’t actually remember her failing anyone in recent decades. I wasn’t paying much attention to Camp Jupiter though, so I can’t say for sure.”

Well that was comforting.

“Anyway, Hera was FURIOUS when Jason was born. Bad enough Zeus cheated on her with that mortal, but to then go back a few years later and have ANOTHER child with the same woman? He went too far. Jupiter, Zeus’s Roman form, gave Hera - or rather Juno - Jason’s life, even naming him after her favorite mortal as an attempt to appease her. Because naming one of his kids in her honor went SO WELL with Heracles. Luckily she took a liking to Jason. By ‘taking a liking’ I mean that she told his mother to hand him over to the wolves when he was two years old. Both she and Thalia assumed the wolves had killed him. No one corrected them. Greek and Roman demigods were supposed to be kept separate.

“But why?” I asked. “Wouldn’t we be stronger together?”

He tilted his head towards me, giving me a small smile. “Indeed you would be - if you could stop fighting.”

I frowned. “Why would we fight each other?”

“Greeks and Romans have a long-standing grudge against each other,” Apollo explained. “It didn’t help that some gods and goddesses did NOT take the Greek-to-Roman transition well. Most notably Athena.”

Annabeth’s mom?

I leaned forwards slightly. Annabeth would DEFINITELY want to know about this, if she didn’t already. “What happened to Athena?”

“The Romans stripped her of her status as a war goddess, reduced her to a goddess of crafts and wisdom, and stole her most sacred statue. They tried to break Greece’s spirit by stealing the Athena Parthenos. They succeeded, but they made a powerful enemy. Athena has NEVER forgiven the Romans for disrespecting her like that. She’s pushed the two sides to fight ever since, hoping that the Greeks would crush the Romans. There’s already a natural animosity between the two sides, it doesn’t take much of a push to get them fighting. After the Civil War, which had Greeks and Romans fighting and killing each other, we gods decided to interfere to stop our children from murdering each other. Athena disapproved of course, but she was outvoted. We increased the level of Mist around your groups, erasing all memories of the others existence from your minds. We kept an eye on any quests where you guy were likely to pass close by, increasing the Mist whenever you almost stumbled across each other. It worked! ... For a while.”

“What changed?”

Apollo grimaced. “Great-grandma started waking up.”

“Who?”

Apollo shook his head. “I don’t want to say her name. Best not to attract her attention. Ask Annabeth. She should know.”

I filed that info away for later. “What’s so terrible about your great-grandmother waking up?”

“She wants to destroy all of humanity and all the Olympian gods. She actually had some kids, the Giants, who she made for the sole purpose of destroying each of the Olympians.”

“She had kids JUST to use as an army?”

“Yep.”

“That’s messed up.”

“I’m not going to disagree with that.”

“Anything special about these Giants? Are they just like the Titans, but bigger?”

Apollo looked pained and... guilty? “It’s worse than that. The Giants can’t be defeated by a mortal or a god working alone. They can only be killed by a god and a mortal working together.”

My heart sank. “So the gods obviously teamed up with all of us demigods and helped us send them packing, right?”

“Well...” Apollo rubbed the back of his neck, looking embarrassed and ashamed. “You see... Father thought that maybe if we gods holed up and didn’t interact with the mortal world, that great-grandma might settle down. She didn’t.”

“Gods disobey Z- your father all the time, though! They helped, right?”

“I... guess so?”

“You guess?”

“I was kinda hiding for most of the war, so I was out of the loop.”

I frowned. “Why were you hiding? Shouldn’t you have been helping fight the Giants?”

Now he REALLY looked ashamed. “I... may have had a role in making things more difficult. Unintentionally, of course.”

I stared at him, waiting for him to continue. After a moment, he did. “One of the Campers at Camp Jupiter was a descendant of mine named Octavian. He told me that he’d make Rome strong, like it was back in the old days. That he’d make sure I was honored as one of the most important gods, above even Zeus! I liked the sound of that. I gave him my blessing. I ignored his hatred of the Greeks and his growing instability. He told me what I wanted to hear, so I ignored the warning signs.”

Apollo avoided my eyes, but kept on talking. “When Camp Half-Blood sent an envoy to Camp Jupiter, it looked like things would go well... at first. Then an Eidolon, a spirit, possessed one of the Greek demigods and forced him to fire on the Camp. The Romans assumed that the diplomatic envoy was a trick and promptly declared war on the Greeks. Luckily they didn’t know exactly where Camp Half-blood was. All of the Seven had to get out of there in a hurry.”

I frowned. “The Seven?”

Apollo blinked. “Oh yeah. You guys don’t have that prophecy yet. It went like this:

Seven half-bloods shall answer the call,

To storm or fire, the world must fall,

An oath to keep with a final breath,

And foes bear arms to the Doors of Death

“The ‘world falling’ sounds pretty bad,” I observed.

Apollo rolled his eyes. “It’s not, actually. This is one of those cases where the prophecy is PURPOSELY deceptive. ‘The world’ is great-grandma, it’s foretelling her defeat. As for the Seven, they are you, Annabeth Chase, Piper McLean, Leo Valdez, Frank Zhang, Hazel Lavesque, and Jason Grace. Frank, Hazel, and Jason are Roman.”

I wasn’t thrilled about being part of ANOTHER prophecy, but at least I’d survive past sixteen.

Apollo continued his story. “We gods are reflections of the culture we come from. When our two groups of children started fighting, the Greek and Roman sides of ourselves started fighting too. Gave most of us SPLITTING headaches, incapacitating us. Well, except for those of us who were either exclusively Greek or Roman, or who were pretty much the same in both forms. So most of us couldn’t help even if we wanted to. But I had an additional problem.”

Apollo stared at his feet. “One of the Praetors, Reyna, was pretty reasonable. She tried to rein in the Legion. But then she had to leave, and OCTAVIAN took control of the Legion. He took my blessing as a sign that whatever he had planned had my full support. He thought that the best way to ‘solve’ the gods’ headache problem and ‘save’ New Rome, was to wipe out the Greeks entirely. Father blamed me for Octavian’s poor decision, and decided to blame me for basically the entire war.”

He smiled bitterly. “I think he just wanted to scapegoat someone, pin the blame on anyone who wasn’t him. Him sticking his head in the sand had made things way more difficult than they needed to be, and he didn’t want to look weak or stupid. Not after the embarrassment of the Second Titan War. He was SO angry with me. But he couldn’t harm me on Delos, mine and Artemis’s birthplace. Being on Delos also protected Artemis and I from the incapacitating headaches. We sat out the whole war there, until the Greeks and Romans made up. That united us gods’ essences, allowing us to FINALLY recover enough to fight back. All of us gods rushed in to fight off the Giants with you Seven, defeating them easily. Then Father called me forwards, blamed me for the war, and sent me to Olympus. I can’t remember anything else until six months later, when I awoke, mortal, hurtling out of the sky, and landed in a dumpster.”

I winced. Sounded like gods weren’t necessarily any more caring towards their divine children than their demigod ones.

Apollo’s voice cracked, self-loathing seeping in. “I discovered just how BLIND we gods had been! Some Roman Emperors managed to make themselves immortal. They’ve been plotting their takeover for MILLENNIA. They helped fund Kronos’s army and Octavian’s attack on Camp Half-blood. They’ve been kidnapping young demigods and raising them to serve in their army.”

The subway started to slow down. “What do I need to know?” I asked hurriedly. I had a nagging sensation that I wouldn’t get to talk to Apollo much longer after this.

Evidently Apollo felt the same way, as he spoke hurriedly while the four of us (plus the bird) departed the subway and headed towards our rendevous with the current Apollo.

“If campers start to go missing a few months after the Second Giant War ends, it’s probably due to the Grove of Dodona regrowing itself in Camp Half-blood and calling for help. Nero tries to burn the grove and attacks Camp Half-Blood with the Colossus Nero. The Cave of Trophonious is in Indianapolis. Georgina was being held prisoner by Commodus. If that happens in this timeline as well, you’ll need to break into Commodus’s palace to rescue her. She also might be my daughter, not sure on that one. And- and then there’s-”

His voice cracked, ”There’s Caligula. His forces attacked Camp Jupiter shortly after I consulted Trophonious. Leo flew away to warn them. Meanwhile, Meg, Grover, and I left to rescue Herophile, another one of my Oracles, who Caligula had locked up. But we needed to retrieve his sandals in order to navigate the Labyrinth - that’s where she was being kept, yes it came back, no, I don’t know how. That’s when everything went wrong.”

A small sob escaped Apollo’s throat. “Jason, he- he’d gotten a prophecy MONTHS ago, saying that we’d only succeed if he and Piper came with Meg and I on our quest, but that either he or Piper would die. He decided right then that it WOULDN’T be Piper. He fought off Caligula long enough for us to get away, but died in the process. Crest - he’s a Pandos - he helped us get away. He helped us the next day too. He held off Medea, stopped her from destroying me, at the cost of his own life. We would’ve been finished if not for-”

Apollo startled, wide-eyed. “The Silver Wives! The Meliai! If we had just waited until they’d woken up, Crest would still be alive!”

He grabbed me urgently. “Percy. There are several special seeds that Meg’s family had been working on for MILLENNIA. They’re at her childhood home, Aeithales. Meg MUST be the one to plant them. Only she can make them grow. Wait to attack until those dryads are awake if possible. They’ll be invaluable.”

I nodded. “I will.”

Apollo let out a breath of relief and let go.

The four of us rounded the corner. I saw the god Apollo pacing around by the Empire State Building, waiting for us. And beside him...

Mortal Apollo stood still for a moment, slack-jawed. Then he came to his surges and surged towards the second figure desperately, the three of us following in his wake.

#trials of apollo #a convergence of apollos #fanfiction #percy jackson #apollo #lester papadopoulos #Meg Mccaffrey #grover underwood #toa #the trials of apollo

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