#mcga frey | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

tsarisfanfiction · 2 years

Text

The Stolen God: Chapter 28

Fandom: Trials of Apollo/Magnus Chase and the Gods of Asgard Rating: Teen Genre: Adventure, Friendship Characters: Will Solace, Magnus Chase, Apollo, Nico di Angelo, Alex Fierro, Meg McCaffrey

Starting to wind down now. I still hate wrapping up fics, but this chapter wasn’t too bad, at least.

Reminder that there’s now a discord server for all my fics, including this one! If you wanna chat with me or with other readers about stuff I write (or just be social in general), hop on over and say hi!

<<<Chapter 27

MAGNUS (XXVIII) Magnus Willingly Signs Up For Powerpoints

Odin’s choice was not a choice at all. As soon as Magnus had heard the first option, he’d known that whatever the second one was, he would have to take it. Forgetting about the Greeks meant forgetting about Annabeth, his favourite – and arguably only – cousin, and while it was true he’d gone most of his life without having her in it, he had absolutely no designs to lose contact with her again now they were finally on the same page.

One look at his dad, Apollo, and even the auburn-haired goddess, told him that they all thought he should take the memory wipe. Apollo and the goddess he could understand, because he was pretty sure neither of them even knew about Annabeth, but Frey’s opinion left him feeling cold. It was almost entirely down to his father that he’d reconnected with her in the first place, so why the change of heart now?

Meg didn’t seem to have an opinion one way or the other, which Magnus suspected he should be offended by, but in reality understood. Despite going on a quest together, the girl hadn’t really interacted with him on a personal level. They certainly weren’t friends. Acquaintances, at best. Will and Nico, on the other hand, seemed to agree with him.

Then again, they were also friends with Annabeth, and they were pretty cool, despite the mess that had been Angrboda. Magnus knew that Alex liked them, too, even if she hadn’t said it in quite so many words, and Alex was pretty judgemental when it came down to it.

Magnus didn’t need anyone else to approve of his decision, but secretly he was quite glad that he was going to have at least two people in his corner.

“I’ll take the ambassador job,” he said bluntly. “There’s no way I’m forgetting everything that happened on this quest.”

He heard Apollo sigh deeply next to him, but to his credit the god didn’t try and talk him out of it.

“Even if Alex Fierro does?” Odin pressed, and Magnus stiffened. “Or will you sign her up for this dangerous position, too? Two ambassadors is better than one, I suppose.”

Magnus really wished Alex had made it to Asgard, not just because he’d been the lone einherjar amongst the other demigods, but because she hated other people making decisions for her. If given the choice, Magnus was certain that she’d take it – it was the exact sort of risk-taking danger she revelled in, and she also got on entirely too well with Annabeth’s boyfriend – but she’d also never forgive him for making the decision for her, no matter how well he knew her.

“Alex makes her own choices,” he said. “I’m not choosing either option for her. You’ll have to ask her what she wants.”

Odin glared at him, and Magnus immediately felt two inches tall. The All-Father didn’t even need to challenge him to a Flyting to have that effect, apparently. “Are you telling me what to do?” he demanded.

Self-preservation insisted that he back down, apologise, and make a decision. Frey and even Apollo were notably on edge, and it definitely made a nice change to have two gods undeniably on his side, but Magnus knew neither of them could actually do anything to oppose Odin – especially Apollo, given that it would likely re-incite the same war they’d just halted if he tried.

For the most part, Magnus had pretty good self-preservation instincts, or so he liked to think. It kept him alive a few seconds longer in the hotel battles, and before that had definitely kept him alive on the streets. He wasn’t generally one to poke a snake with a stick, but sometimes, sometimes, he did. Besides, the better self-preservation was keeping Alex happy.

“I’m not making Alex’s decision for her,” he said firmly, and braced himself for whatever retaliation Odin had planned for his disrespect.

Odin, being the unpredictable god that he was, threw back his head and laughed. “A wise decision!” he proclaimed. “Very well, I shall present the choice to her shortly. In the meantime, however, I will take your decision. You are certain you want the dangerous job of ambassador between pantheons, and not the safety of ignorance?”

For a god whose hobby was doing weird things in order to get as much knowledge as possible, Magnus thought it was pretty rich of him to call ignorance safety.

“My cousin is the daughter of Athena,” he said stubbornly. Apollo’s eyes flickered with recognition, and Frey sighed in resignation. “I’ll take the job.”

Odin grinned broadly. “I’m pleased to hear it!” he boomed. “Very well, I shall hear Alex’s decision, and then you shall begin your lessons on ambassadorship.”

Magnus realised he had just signed himself up for Odin’s infamous powerpoints and did his best not to wilt. It was worth it, he told himself. This way, he could even visit Annabeth’s beloved camp at last and see it for his own eyes.

The All-Father morphed into a raven, and took flight in the direction of Valhalla. Magnus hoped Alex had revived already, otherwise she was going to get an unpleasant shock when she woke to find Odin in her room. Frigg, who had remained silent the entire time, offered him a small smile – one he couldn’t work out if it was supposed to be reassuring or pitiful – before turning and walking away, leaving Frey the only Norse god still in the courtyard.

“Magnus,” his father said quietly. “That-”

“I wasn’t taking the memory wipe,” he interrupted. “Not a chance.”

Frey sighed. “I didn’t expect you to,” he admitted, “but I had hoped you would. It won’t be easy, Magnus. Your cousin is mortal; you will watch her and your other Greco-Roman friends age and die, and outlast them all. Forgetting would have been the easier option.”

Annoyingly, Magnus could see where he was coming from. T.J. had said something similar to him, back when he first arrived in Valhalla. Mortals and immortals weren’t designed to interact; it only ended in heartbreak.

Still, he wasn’t changing his mind.

“But for it’s worth,” Frey continued, resting his hands gently on Magnus’ shoulders. He was no bigger on touch than he’d been before he died, but with his dad it was always different, mostly because he only saw him once in a blue moon. Also, he reminded Magnus of Mom, of the hikes they’d taken together, of everything from before his life fell apart. A little rush of strength ran through him, too, which didn’t hurt. “I’m proud of you, Magnus. I already was, but working with another pantheon is something not even gods – most gods,” he corrected himself, glancing up at Apollo, “can do. As you saw.”

Apollo laughed hollowly. “Demigods are amazing creatures,” he said, coming up to stand next to Magnus. He still had his arm around Will’s shoulders, and Magnus got the feeling he wasn’t going to let go of his son until he absolutely had to. From the good-natured grimace Will gave when their fathers weren’t looking at him, the other blond was aware of that fact, and while appearing resigned was probably actually very okay about it. He certainly still needed help standing, even though the injury itself was closed up. “If I hadn’t spent the past six months as a mortal, thanks to my father…” He trailed off, but the implication was clear.

“Apollo,” the auburn-haired goddess said sharply. “Don’t anger him any more than you already have.” Magnus really wished he’d paid more attention to Annabeth’s explanation about the Greek pantheon, because he didn’t have a clue who she was.

That was something he was going to have to learn, he realised. He could hardly be an ambassador when he only knew a handful of names, and could only put faces to a selection of those. If Hades, Athena and Poseidon hadn’t looked so much like the offspring he knew, he wouldn’t have had a clue.

Well, okay, maybe Hades’ all-black regalia might have clued him in without his similarities to Nico.

“What’s he going to do?” Apollo retorted, sulkily. “Make me spend another six months as a mortal? Because that ended up so well this time.” Despite his words, though, he’d pulled Will even closer to his side and Magnus got the feeling that he was genuinely scared of whatever Zeus had in store for him – a feeling he would have dismissed if not for that one prophecy line. Who would ever have thought that the ‘abused child’ would be a literal god? Come to think of it, Angrboda had said something similar about Lester, hadn’t she?

The goddess’ eyes softened slightly. “Apollo,” she sighed.

“I’m fine, sis,” he insisted, turning away from her to face Frey as Magnus frantically tried to remember if Annabeth had said anything about Apollo’s sister. Oh, who was he kidding, it was less of an if and more of a what. “Before we leave,” the god continued, “I want to thank you, Frey.” He rubbed a hand up and down Will’s upper arm. “Thanks for saving my son.”

“Dad-” Will started, but Nico interrupted his boyfriend to offer his own inclined head to Frey, complete with thanks in a shaking voice.

From what he knew of Nico, that seemed like a huge gesture of respect.

“It was the least I could do,” Frey replied. “You had the far harder job, and I’m sorry I was unable to help restore the peace.”

The goddess snorted. “With our lot all on the warpath, no alf seidr would have been enough, Frey,” she said.

Magnus’ Dad grimaced in agreement. “Let’s hope we don’t end up in that situation again, Lady Artemis.” That was her name. Goddess of the moon, man-hating virgin goddess who recruited girls to join her eternal hunt. Magnus remembered now.

“I’m sure your son will do his best to prevent it.” Her eyes, silver like the full moon, focused on him, and he tensed. “I will be interested to see how well he manages.” That wasn’t at all ominous.

Apollo poked her in the side. “Don’t scare him, Arty,” he scolded. “He’s a good kid.” His twin glared at him, which went ignored. Magnus supposed that was a sibling thing, although it would never not be weird seeing immortal beings acting human. “Unfortunately, we should be going now.” Apollo didn’t sound pleased about that in the slightest. “If Alex takes the ambassador position… ask her to come see me? I want to thank her for her help.”

“And to come see us,” Will chipped in. He was still pale, and Magnus was aware that while he and his dad had healed the physical wound, the mental impact of his near-death and probably the entire shit show that had been their quest was still taking its toll on the son of Apollo. “I’d really like to replace that last memory of her with something a little less fatal. Even if she doesn’t, come visit soon. I’d love to compare healing techniques with you when we’re not fighting for our lives.”

Magnus nodded, already looking forwards to that. He got on with the einherjar just fine – well, those his own age, anyway – but being the only healer in a group of warrior-minded individuals did leave him a little out on the edge, sometimes.

“Will do,” he agreed. “I’ll come visit as soon as Odin’s done with his ‘training’.” He really hoped the powerpoints wouldn’t be too long and arduous, although he was pretty sure that was a hope in vain. “Alex or no Alex.”

Will smiled at him. “See you soon, then.” He nudged Nico, who rolled his eyes.

“What he said.”

“Nico.”

“Will.”

Apollo chuckled at the pair of them, and turned to Meg, who was lurking on the edge. “Going to say goodbye, Meg?”

She shrugged. “Why? I’ll see him soon, apparently.”

“If you’re sure.” Apollo let the silence hang meaningfully for a few moments, but the girl didn’t say anything more. Magnus wasn’t particularly surprised, and nor, from the fond look on his face, was Apollo. “Well then,” the god said after the silence began to stretch. “We should probably go before we start another war. Don’t be a stranger.”

The smile he gave was genuine, and stayed on his face as he started to glow golden. Beside him, Artemis’s form shimmered silver.

Frey’s hand clamped over his eyes suddenly.

“Don’t look,” his dad warned. Even through his hand, the light reached blinding levels, before suddenly they vanished, plunging Magnus’ vision into darkness. A heartbeat later, Frey moved his hand. “The Greco-Roman gods’ true forms will immolate anyone who sees them,” his father explained. “If you’re going to be interacting with them regularly, you need to remember to close your eyes if they ever start glowing like that.”

“Right,” Magnus muttered. “Noted.” The courtyard was empty of everyone except them, now. “I guess that’s my cue to go back to Valhalla?”

Frey gave him a sad smile. “I suppose so,” he agreed. “Come, I’ll walk you to the door.”

“Did they really forget to say goodbye to me?” Jack asked suddenly, making Magnus jump. The sword had been silent since Frey had joined him in healing Will, even going as far as to return to pendant form after a few moments rather than give Frey so much as the time of day. “The cheek of it! I had a message for Riptide, too.”

Magnus winced. “We’ll see them soon,” he promised his sword. “Maybe we’ll even see Riptide so you can pass on the message in person.”

“Humph,” Jack sulked. “I’ve half a mind to ignore them next time, see how they like it.” Magnus decided not to point out that if he hadn’t disappeared back into a pendant, they might have remembered to say goodbye to him, too.

“Why didn’t you take much energy when you reverted?” he asked instead. Thanks to Frey giving him a burst of energy or few, he wasn’t entirely dead on his feet, but he suspected that he was going to need a nap sooner rather than later.

“I didn’t get to do much,” Jack complained. “None of us did, well, except for him.”

Magnus shouldn’t ask, he knew it, but, “us? Him?”

“Us weapons,” Jack said, as though he was stupid. “Or did you not notice the lack of arrows? The lack of swordplay? Stygian was the only one that got any exercise!”

They reached the door to Valhalla – the front door, which looked identical to the front door in Midgard, although as Valhalla was actually in Asgard, this was probably the actual front door, and Magnus was going to stop thinking about that before he gave himself a headache.

“Well,” Frey said, “this is goodbye for the moment.” He smiled at Magnus. “Try not to get obliterated by the Olympians.”

What exactly could he say to that? “I’ll do my best, Dad,” he muttered, letting the god pull him in for a quick hug. “See you around?”

“Of course,” Frey promised. “You know where to find me.”

Alfheim was not high on Magnus’ list of worlds to visit, but he nodded anyway.

There was no point hanging around. He stepped forwards, the wolf-emblazoned doors soundlessly opening to admit him, and with only a single glance back at his dad, who offered a wave, he returned to the halls of Valhalla.

The daily battle had to still be ongoing, because the hallways were deserted. The elevator arrived immediately, almost mockingly fast compared to the last time he’d tried to call it, and he and Jack were alone with the repetitive drone of Norwegian Frank Sinatra as they travelled up to floor nineteen.

Alex was waiting for him outside her door. She’d changed from her quest outfit into a green and pink tartan miniskirt, striped knee-high socks of the same colours, and a hot pink spaghetti-strap top, complete with plaid green neckerchief.

“I hear we’re Odin’s new Greco-Norse ambassadors,” she commented. “I take it that means all gods are back where they belong?” Alex raised an eyebrow. “Please tell me that bitch got what was coming to her.”

“We are,” Magnus sighed, unsurprised that she’d taken the same decision he had, before giving her the brief run-down of Asgardian events. “Will got kebabbed, but Dad was there to help while Apollo yelled at both pantheons.” And hadn’t that been a sight, Apollo still in Lester’s wrecked, blood-stained Hotel Valhalla t-shirt going head-to-head with both pantheon rulers simultaneously. Magnus hadn’t envied him that in the slightest. “Turns out it was your mom orchestrating it all, and Carrie was working for him because she wanted to, so as appeasement, Carrie got handed over to Zeus to do whatever he wanted with.”

“Please tell me he made her death slow and painful.” Alex joined him as he walked past her room, making a beeline for his own.

“She disappeared in a ball of lightning, so I think he zapped her back to Olympus,” Magnus told her. He glanced around at all the closed doors. “The others still resurrecting?”

“Yup,” she said. “I would have joined the battle, but it’s not the same without you to watch die.”

“Thanks,” he said dryly, reaching his own room and shutting the door. “I’m gonna go crash out for a bit. Try not to get too bored without me.”

She scoffed. “Magnus, you are not my only method of entertainment, even if you’re usually the most amusing.” He received a shove in the back that sent him stumbling forwards into his bedroom. “Go and get your beauty sleep. I’ll interrogate you for the rest of the details later. I’m sure the others want to hear all about it, anyway.”

He groaned, remembering that Halfborn had apparently figured out about the Greek pantheon being real and would no doubt be after the full explanation, and gladly faceplanted his bed.

After a few days sleeping under bridges and in Jotunheim, his bed was heavenly. “Wake me up never,” he told Alex, or rather the pillow.

The last thing he heard before sleep claimed him was Alex’s amused laughter.

Chapter 29>>>

#trials of apollo #trials of apollo fanfiction #magnus chase and the gods of asgard #magnus chase fanfiction #riordanverse #riordanverse fanfic #magnus chase #pjo apollo #will solace #nico di angelo #meg mccaffrey #alex fierro #mcga jack #mcga odin #mcga frey #pjo artemis #mcga frigg #tsari writes fanfiction #the stolen god

30 notes · View notes

tsarisfanfiction · 2 years

Text

The Stolen God: Chapter 26

Fandom: Trials of Apollo/Magnus Chase and the Gods of Asgard Rating: Teen Genre: Adventure, Friendship Characters: Will Solace, Magnus Chase, Apollo, Nico di Angelo, Alex Fierro, Meg McCaffrey

And we return to regularly scheduled posting! There shouldn’t be any more disruptions between now and the end of the fic, you’ll hopefully be pleased to hear. This chapter has been a Long time coming, and not just because of the brief pause in updates. It’s not the longest, but it’s a big one regardless. And it’s a pov I know people have been waiting for!

<<<Chapter 25

APOLLO (XXVI) Olympian Family Reunion, AKA Drama Time

No! Apollo’s mind screamed, at a volume to rival Nico’s vocalised scream, as Will collapsed to the ground. There was a spear running straight through his son’s abdomen, and Apollo’s medical mind inconveniently immediately rattled off all the delicate organs and other things vital to living that would have been damaged by the weapon now impaling the unconscious teen.

It was a familiar weapon, one he’d seen a thousand times before. His half-brother had an ever-growing collection of the things, and while that had never been Apollo’s cup of nectar, it had never particularly bothered him before. Seeing one of Ares’ spears stuck through his son as though he was a kebab, however, did more than bother Apollo.

It infuriated him.

His first emotion, when he’d seen the gods at a stand-off – before the spear exploded towards them faster than any of them, Apollo included, could react – had been an uncomfortable mix of delight and apprehension.

They were all there. Zeus, of course, was a given, and also the biggest issue, but he’d been far from alone. Artemis, his beloved sister and, according to Will, the one who had sent out the most searches for him – including the three that had found him – looked older than usual, seventeen or so compared to her favourite twelve, but was as always unmistakeable. Poseidon and, to Apollo’s complete amazement, Hades, flanked their younger brother, the Big Three united, while two of their sisters stood at the back. Apollo hadn’t expected any of his aunts and uncles to be there, but certainly not the goddesses; Hera hated him – a mutual feeling – while Demeter preferred to avoid conflict. Athena and Ares stood on the outermost flanks, the god and goddess of war in their element as it loomed. Hephaestus, Hermes and even Dionysus lingered back with the elder goddesses and Aphrodite, tense and ready for action. Hestia, as always, was the only one missing. The hearth waiting for them to come home, once everything was over.

The fact that they had all been there for him, regardless of the nuances behind that decision, had hit Apollo hard, sending his emotions haywire as he tried to work out what he was supposed to be feeling at the sight of them.

Then Ares had moved, the two pantheons had collided in a burst of energy that was still just posturing rather than war (thank Olympus), somehow one of his half-brother’s spears had ended up in his son, and all the emotional confusion their presence had brought melted away until only two emotions remained.

Fear and rage.

“Will, don’t you dare.” Nico was on his knees, clinging to his boyfriend tightly as though he had the power to keep him alive through sheer stubbornness. Technically, Apollo supposed he did. “Don’t you dare.”

Apollo didn’t remember falling to his knees next to his son, his dying son, but he was down there, too, and his hands were pressing on the wound, trying to stem the blood as he drew on his powers of healing. His wrists twinged warningly, as they did whenever he used his powers, but Apollo ignored them; despite what he’d told the demigods, they weren’t powerful enough to actually affect his abilities. The issue with them was something else entirely.

Other hands joined his, glowing golden, and he looked up to see Magnus next to him, grey eyes hardened in determination.

“I’ve got this,” the Norse healer said. “Go. Stop them.”

He should. Apollo knew that.

Apollo also knew that he had lost too many children in the past three years. None of his children had sided with Kronos, but while that was a source of pride and comfort that they did, at least, love him more than they hated him, it had meant that they had been one of the largest cabins going into battle, ending up on the front lines despite not being front line fighters through sheer, cruel necessity.

Will was not going to be joining his fallen siblings, not today. The quarrelling – warring – gods could wait until he was sure his son would live. And he would live. There was too much Apollo still had to say to his son, too many cracks that had yawned into chasms during the quest that he’d yet to do more than weakly paper over that he needed to address properly. Too much that he’d put off, because there was an apocalypse at stake and it wasn’t going to wait politely for him to give Will everything his son needed from him, everything Apollo wanted to give his selfless – too selfless - child.

Will could not die today.

“Apollo.” Nico’s face was tearstained, and Apollo knew that the son of Hades could feel the life threatening to leave Will’s body just the same as he could. Nico, however, could do little more than frantically tether his soul – healing was beyond his powers.

Small hands on Apollo’s shoulders announced Meg’s presence.

“Go,” Meg said firmly in his ear, leaning in close enough that her breath tickled his skin. “You need to stop this.”

“Will-”

“Magnus is on it,” Nico told him, although the son of Hades was shaking as he ran his fingers through blond hair. “We won’t let him die. You have to do this, Apollo. You’re the only one who can.”

He was right, as much as Apollo was at loath to admit it. Any of the demigods would be torn to shreds if they even tried to get closer to the arguing gods; as it was, they were close enough that any moment they could end up in the same state as Will, whose body he could feel knitting back together again beneath his and Magnus’ ministrations. Outside of Valhalla, even Magnus would die for good.

Enough demigods had died at the whims of the gods. Enough demigods had died for Apollo.

Determination, fuelled by rage – both at himself and his brethren – flooded through him, and he let out a measured breath before pulling back his bloodstained hands. Immediately, Magnus’ shifted to cover where his had been, still glowing brightly gold.

Apollo tore his eyes away from the limp and bloodied body of his son and pushed himself to his feet, turning away from the tangle of demigods and facing down the carnage that was the battling pantheons.

“Shouldn’t you take the bow?” Nico asked as he started to take a step forward. “You’re weaponless.” Apollo paused and looked down at the weapon, gold against the golden paving and splattered with crimson droplets. The bow he’d stored Apollo in, out of Odin’s power but close enough to Lester to trickle in behind the seal he’d placed on his heart when necessary, and explode back where it belonged once his own power shattered it. The bow he’d then given to his son – to keep him safe, to protect his amazing, kind-hearted healer of a son who should never be asked to take a life but the Fates clearly had other plans for him – stained by the blood of the very same teen it was supposed to protect.

Breaking up an inter-pantheon conflict without a weapon for protection sounded like madness, but he didn’t reach for the bow. It was Will’s now – for all the good it had done his son so far. Apollo’s journey with that weapon was over; he had willingly gifted it away and he wouldn’t take it back. Not now, and not ever.

“Adding another weapon to the mix won’t stop anything,” he said out loud. “Stay back, and stay safe.”

Without looking back, he started walking. One foot in front of the other, fear bubbling under the surface as he realised what he was about to do but tempered by the determination to protect those four lives behind him, and stop this.

He didn’t have a weapon, but really, that didn’t mean that he was helpless. Instead, Apollo let the fear, the rage, the determination, swell up. He saw Will, skewered by his own uncle’s weapon as a thoughtless piece of collateral damage. He saw Alex, refusing to back down and buying them every last second she could. He saw the rest of floor nineteen, staying behind with grins on their faces to hold back an impossible stampede. He saw Jason, heard the dying voice yelling for him to REMEMBER.

Remember what it was like to be human. Remember what it was like to be the sacrificial heroes, fated to die like thrown-away toys of the gods.

He let it all bubble up, just like the tunnel, when he’d battled Commodus for the last time, and then let it all out in a single-note scream.

No arrow would break up this battle. No golden light would be enough to distract the single-minded gods. No shouting and waving would get their attention, except maybe as a target to hit.

The scream crashed into the gods like a physical force, knocking some of the slighter ones back and stunning the rest into stopping in their tracks. They weren’t weak enough to be destroyed, not like Commodus, but while Apollo was no Big Three, there was always a reason Zeus came down harsher on him than most of the rest. There was a reason it had taken six months to strip him down to total mortality, six months that still remained a gap in his memories, despite the restoration of everything else.

Hands balled into fists, trembling slightly from the flood of emotion, Apollo stalked forwards into the midst of frozen gods, feeling their eyes laser in on him. He didn’t acknowledge any of them until he was right in the centre, the sun he’d been ever since Helios had faded. Not Zeus’ blazing fury, not Athena’s scrutinising look, not even Artemis’ relief.

He stopped exactly between the two sides, took a deep breath, and said one word. “Enough.”

For a blessed moment, silence reigned.

Then the shouting began.

Somehow, Apollo had forgotten just how loud his brethren could be, although the addition of the various Norse deities – most of which he couldn’t name – really wasn’t helping the noise levels. He glanced across to where the demigods were huddled at the edge of the courtyard, and blinked when he realised they weren’t alone.

Magnus, his glow weak and his body no better, had been joined by an older man with the same blond hair and aura. Jack was pointedly hovering the other side of Magnus, although not touching him, which was interesting considering the man was one of the few Norse gods Apollo knew by name – and last he’d seen Frey, he and the sword had been nigh on inseparable. Inconveniently so.

If it was any other god, from either pantheon, Apollo would have stormed straight back over and dragged him as far away from his son as possible. It was tempting to do that anyway, but he forced himself to think rationally. Frey was the Norse god of peace; he wouldn’t do anything to risk aggravating the situation further. He was also, like his son, a healer.

Besides, Nico was there, and like all the current Greek children of the Big Three, Nico had no qualms about telling gods to shove it. Combined with his love for Will, there was no way the son of Hades would hesitate the instant Frey did anything that wasn’t directly helping. Apollo’s son was in the best possible hands outside of his own.

The thought calmed him some, for all that it chafed that he couldn’t be the one saving his son’s life, and he reluctantly let his attention return to the gods all yelling at him. Zeus looked almost apoplectic, and storm clouds were gathering above them, blotting out the sun.

That was not a metaphor Apollo was particularly keen on at the best of times. Right now, he hated it.

“I said enough!” he roared. The gods all quietened, probably more out of shocked offence than obedience, and Apollo seized his chance before they worked themselves back up again. “Do you want another war?” he demanded of his own brethren, avoiding looking directly at Zeus, “so soon after the last two?”

“Why not?” Ares shrugged. Apollo rounded on him, feeling his power flare up.

“Your spear is currently in my son,” he growled. “I suggest you keep your mouth shut.” The god of war scowled, but Aphrodite appeared next to him, a hand on his arm, and he kept whatever retort he had to himself.

Zeus, on the other hand, had no such restraint. “Do not speak to your brother like that,” he ordered. “Odin has reached beyond his territory, even now his taint is on Olympus, and that is an insult that cannot be let pass.” He stepped forwards, towering over Apollo despite not being that much taller.

He didn’t need to be.

“A father who terrifies you,” Angrboda had said. She hadn’t been wrong, for all that Apollo tried in vain to pretend that he wasn’t scared of Zeus. He didn’t stand up to him because Zeus was the king, not because he was afraid of what would happen if he did… Except he was, and that was a lie he’d told himself over and over again, hoping that if he said it enough, it’d become the truth. As though the god of truth could make a lie come true.

The last time he’d displeased Zeus, a minor infraction brought about by flattery, and something inconvenient coming out of Rachel as though Apollo had any control over the timing of prophecies, his punishment had been the worst one to date. This was the first time he’d seen his father in person since then, and the urge to apologise, step back, and let his father do as he wanted, again, rather than risk another punishment bubbled up temptingly.

He turned away, and faced the god standing opposite Zeus instead. He’d never met Odin in person, but the power rolling from the one-eyed god matched the magic in the runes on his wrists perfectly, leaving his identity unmistakable.

“If you carry on fighting, Ragnarok will start,” he told him. “This war isn’t worth it.”

Odin’s fingers tightened around his spear, and when he spoke, his voice rolled over Apollo as heavily as Zeus’. “I am not the aggressor here, boy,” he said. “If you want to prevent this war, I am the wrong person to appeal to.” His one visible eye flashed with rage. “I have half a mind to strike you down where you stand for infiltrating my halls.”

“Touch him, and die,” Zeus snarled. Apollo wished that was because his father cared about him, but he knew better than that. It was all about Zeus – Zeus’ authority being undermined, his territory being advanced upon. Apollo was just a convenient god-shaped representation of all of that – Zeus’ property, not his son.

Apollo’s eyes found his own son again, still limp but no longer on Nico’s lap. Magnus was barely conscious next to him, leaning heavily against his own father and no longer glowing while Frey continued to work. Movement next to them snatched his attention, and his eyes widened at the sight of Meg and Nico, wrestling with a bloodstained girl with ringlets and a tattered Valkyrie uniform.

Of course, Carrie was a Valkyrie. Travelling to Asgard was well within her powers.

Nico had his sword out, parrying every blow Carrie made, while Meg danced around them both, calling up plants in an attempt to snare the daughter of Loki. Despite the state she was in, Carrie seemed determined to take at least one of them down with her, and Apollo remembered what she’d said earlier. Neither Hades or Demeter would sit by idly if their child was killed on Norse ground.

By pure chance, Meg caught his eye. Meg, who had stood up to Nero when it mattered the most, who had faced her personal demon, her abuser, and claimed her own life back. Meg, who had the strength Apollo lacked. Meg, who in a single look reminded him that no matter what, she believed in him.

Apollo couldn’t let her down. Couldn’t let down any of the demigods that had got him this far.

And Odin’s words had given him the last piece of the puzzle.

“Enough,” he said, again, turning back around to glare at his father. “Odin will not smite me, and you will not use me as an excuse to wage war.”

“Apo-”

“You sound very confident of that,” Odin said, overriding Zeus’ furious response. Apollo was glad for that, because it meant no-one else had noticed him flinch at his father’s tone. Hopefully. “Explain.”

“You won’t smite me, because if you do, Loki wins,” Apollo declared, facing the Norse All-Father again. The Norse gods shifted, murmuring amongst themselves. “I didn’t enter Valhalla of my own choice; I was brought there, stolen, if you will, by a Valkyrie.”

“One of my Valkyrie?” Odin raised his visible eyebrow, but the rage in his eye didn’t abate in the slightest. “You were not brought to Valhalla on my orders.”

“I know.” The moment Odin had called him an infiltrator, the question about which god was responsible had been answered. “The Valkyrie in question was her.” He pointed to the fighting demigods, and sensed Hades and Demeter both stiffen at the sight of their children caught up in battle against a shape-shifting menace.

Even if she was mortal, and seriously injured, Carrie was still a Valkyrie. With Nico on the defensive, protecting Will, and Meg without her scimitars, it was an even fight.

“Carrie,” Odin rumbled.

“Daughter of Loki,” Apollo confirmed. “She captured me on his orders, not yours.” He stepped forwards, holding out his rune-marked wrists. They were still throbbing warningly, protesting against his usage of his power even though they couldn’t stop it. “Remove these, and set me free.”

Behind him, Zeus sucked in an indignant breath as he saw the runes. From his earlier words, Apollo suspected the same runes had sunk into his throne on Olympus.

“Father,” Athena said quietly. She’d come up next to Zeus, the favourite daughter and advisor. Her words were enough, for the moment, to silence the king of the gods, but Apollo knew it wouldn’t last.

He met Odin’s eye squarely, refusing to back down. Silver glistened in his periphery, and he knew without looking that his twin had come to stand beside him.

Odin regarded him for several moments. “You’re impertinent,” he said.

“I’m right,” Apollo retorted, “and you know it.” Odin, All-Father, seeker of knowledge, god of poetry and divination. In many aspects, they were each other’s counterpart. All Zeus and Odin had in common was their position as the ruler of their pantheon, but Odin and Apollo?

Not equals, perhaps, but there was something between them. Understanding.

“As I said,” Odin replied. “Impertinent.”

He reached out with one hand, and clasped Apollo’s right wrist, exactly over the rune. His magic burned as it activated, searing pain forcing its way through the rune, and with a choked cry, Apollo sank to his knees.

Zeus’ fragile hold on his temper broke, and lightning crashed down.

Chapter 27>>>

28 notes · View notes