#oh and as always - no version of thalia looks alike

[quaddmgd]

PARTY LIKE IT'S 2072

Place me in my casket tonight Because I'm already dying inside Pale skin so cold to the touch Like a rose in bloom when we blush Dark eyes meet under the sky The stars are out, we're alive in the night My hollow heart finds it too hard to trust We're all alone until we turn back to dust

Sidewalks and Skeletons - GOTH

[thejudgingtrash]

🌳

Thank you for sending me a prompt :D This one shot it definitely not proofread, so I'm sorry about that.

I tried to do something different aside from Percabeth for once - Ruegard! Also tw: character death

Thorns and Roses

Silena looked at her. “Clarisse…” she mumbled.

“No. Please don’t,” Clarisse cried. Tears clouded her vision and her last moments with her.

“I’m so sorry.”

It took a mere split second for Clarisse to fall deep for her. It was a lazy glance to the side of the arena, when she saw her smile and wink. The encouraging wave of her hand that rose as Clarisse slammed Percy with her magical spear.

But that was all that it took, many summers ago. It was all that Clarisse little hardened heart needed. Clarisse La Rue, formally bully exterior, now nothing but a shell of destruction and failure.

She was truly her father’s creation. Her looks, her wit, her sharpened senses, her rage. All came from him unfortunately. But with the looks came the bad. The legitimate children of Zeus and Hera were cursed, no one wanted to admit it. They lacked in tact, they lacked in grace. Their status was only high lightened by their status and birth rights.

The captivating beauty of one Silena Beauregard was all that made Clarisse nearly forget those facts. Those pesky thoughts that had haunted her ever since she was a child. A child of Ares who had the greatest honor and the greatest displeasure of actually meeting her father.

The minute the son of Poseidon stepped into the camp; everyone knew. He looked like a younger and smaller version of his father; most people just played the indifferent card aside from that annoying Athena girl. Had Annabeth owned the medical tool kit from the Apollo cabin, she would have dissected Percy as if he were an insect. But no. Percy was successful with retrieving the lightning bolt and found out that one of the most beloved and prominent campers was a traitor. It was a wonder that Luke never bothered to try to recruit from the Ares cabin. With Clarisse on his side, it would have been a stroll through the parks, waging war against Olympus. Not only that, Percy had the nerve to humiliate her father for all to see. The Ares cabin had been the laughing stock for a whole year.

Then the sea rat stole her mission and final chance to shine and marked Clarisse’s downfall. Disgust. That was what her father breathed the few times she had seen him and pleaded for his advice. Strategizing wasn’t the strength of the legitimate war children. It was blood lust, destruction, interruption. And just like that he had wiped the Iris message with his hand, closing their call.

Clarisse La Rue, the biggest failure on Mount Olympus. But she was different. Silena, who greeted her every day. Silena who asked how she was feeling. It was Silena who was nurturing and caring. She who clearly sought her out and bonded with Clarisse. The campers saw it and yet they didn’t. Clarisse turned from the loud and brash leader of the cabin into a more solemn version of herself.

Love and war. Thorns and roses. They were opposites, but who was about to say they would attract each other? Love was pure and soft. It made you swoon and see the world through different lenses. War was the other side of the spectrum. It tore apart, it hurt, it caused pain. It would leave scars for eternity as love stood by its side to caress it. Ares and Aphrodite. Two forces not to be reckoned with. The beauty of a rose was always accompanied by the pain of its thorns.

“I want to see Charlie. See… Charlie…” coughed Silena. Blood sticked to her torn lips.

“I’m in love,” Silena had giggled back then. She tried to bite the smile down that came through anyways. Just like always.

Clarisse could hear her own heart beat louder with every new tact. It was beating to the rhythm of anticipation. She licked her lips and tried not to nervously touch her dull hair. I love you too.

“It’s Charlie, Charles Beckendorf.” Silena admitted, her blue eyes shining as bright as a thousand stars. Then she smiled again and broke Clarisse’s heart into tiny pieces.

It was the greatest irony of them all that a child of Hephaestus stole the heart of the daughter of Aphrodite all while the mighty speechless fruit of Ares could do nothing but sit there and watch. The gods must have a feast with that gossip on Mount Olympus.

O gods, why did you shoot Clarisse with the arrow of love? Eros, how could you? Didn’t she suffer enough shame and humiliation? It wasn’t that Clarisse was angry or disappointed. She was truly as happy for Silena as Silena was in love. She wanted to see her flower bloom and see her smile every day. If it meant that it was Charles who captured that precious place so be it.

But it was… Jealousy? No, Clarisse didn’t want to steal Silena away from Beckendorf. They deserved each other. Despite the children of Hephaestus being mental twins to the children of Ares, both with their and non-conforming looks, their strength and the cautious glances the other campers threw into their direction, Clarisse didn’t wish her cousin any harm. Beckendorf was shy around Silena and even if watching them share small kisses here and there caused Clarisse’s stomach to drop. She wanted Silena to blossom.

It was envy. If Clarisse could switch parts with Beckendorf she would do so in a heartbeat. He was polite and quite popular even if he wasn’t aware of it. While most of Hephaestus’ creations had a harsh tone to them, Beckendorf was truly one of his best to rise. The heart of a fighter and the smarts that could beat any quantum computer. And he beat Clarisse too, when it came to Silena Beauregard’s heart.

Clarisse tried to branch out, meet new people even in camp. She tried to keep an eye out for any other possible romantic partner, alas to no success. She was no dainty small girl which others seemed to prefer. She had her height and her muscles in her arm that beat most mortal men. No chance for her witty and empathetic personality to shine through.

Clarisse was no child of Aphrodite. She couldn’t smell emotions on a whim, but her father’s powers gave her a similar skillset. She could sense whenever something wasn’t right and it started months ago before the Battle of Manhattan. Silena was distant. Her hair was less shiny and her eyes as dull as the calm seas. She couldn’t look her in the eyes. She was distracted, looked to the side.

Something was off with her, no matter how much positivity the daughter of Aphrodite used to cover her tracks. Clarisse could tell, but she was tactful enough to not pry. Oh, had she pried back then. She had seen the signs, why didn’t she step up and say something? The difference between desperation and the calm before the storm was so small.

Silena ran away from Clarisse as if she had been hit by the arrow of hatred. The beauty could tell that she was unable to deceive her dearest friend. So, she stopped talking to her at all, avoiding her on every occasion. No more boy trouble, no more talks, no more sneaking off to the beach, no more laying down and watching the stars. Well, Silena watched the stars. Clarisse could only see her.

The manipulation of the Aphrodite cabin never worked on the children of Ares. They saw clear through lies and deception. In war every moment counted. You needed to be one with your environment. You needed to know your opponent. Was he stronger than you? Did he have more men? Was he able to do things you could never do? Would he risk things you would never do?

Avoidance was clearly the better tactic. Silena had learned a lot from Annabeth and the other children of Athena back in those days.

The moment Clarisse’s heart began to break forever was when it turned out that Silena had been the spy for the cursed Castellan boy. That he was. A naïve boy who thought that whining and throwing a fit on the ground would cause change. As the son of one of the master manipulators on Mount Olympus, Luke should have seen Kronos’ betrayal a mile away. But he was a broken and cursed boy like all of them, a kid in college and the Titan Lord cracked him like a walnut. No one in camp could have resisted, not even the strongest children like Percy, Thalia and Nico.

But why her? Why Silena? What did he do to Clarisse’s sweet Silena? What did he do that made her lights go out forever? What did he do to let her die like that? She deserved the death of a warrior, not the death of being the traitor’s second-class shadow.

Silena had chosen her in the end. Her, poor Clarisse La Rue. Like Patroclus and Achilles back then, millennia ago. She chose to disguise herself as Clarisse. The greatest deception, a war tactic of its own.

How had Achilles overcome his loss? How did he mourn? With agony. With the most destructive pain. With anger. Was he ever reunited with his lover? Clarisse did not know the answer. All she saw was her rose wilting on the dirty grounds of Manhattan.

The poison tore Silena’s face apart, the sad reminder of her being was slowly decaying. The shell of her being. The pain that she left in Clarisse’s heart. Silena had coughed and Clarisse knew it was time for Thanatos to put an end and for Hermes to bring her to the other side. She knew it, yet didn’t want to face the truth. It would break her already broken heart.

“Why did you do this?” whimpered Clarisse. “Why did you, you silly girl?”

But Clarisse knew why. It was like always – Silena did it out of love. Both for Beckendorf and for her. Her last moment was dedicated to the both of them.

The last red petal fell. It was just like that. One last breath and her life force was gone, the eyes dull and an ash gray layer covered her. The teary blue eyes. It was no picture for the gods yet something Clarisse would never forget. Of that she was certain. Silena’s black hair was framing her body like a dark halo. They were putting down roots on the cold and hard concrete. The final whispers of an escaped nymph making peace with the situation.

A piercing cry haltered all movements. Monsters and men alike. It echoed through the streets and drowned out all the noise from the battle grounds. Today they would die. Rage covered every inch of her body. The movements were robotic as if a parasite had taken over her, but it truly was the devastation that manifested itself within Clarisse’s mind.

She had killed that fucking drakon just like it killed one of the most precious people on earth. She never had the chance to hell her that she loved her dearly and sincerely. Deep down Clarisse knew that Silena knew the entire time. But she never had the guts to say it to her face, rejection be damned. To be freed of the burden and speak her truth. Clear her consciousness and her mind.

She was shaking with pain and desperation. Every muscle, every thought burned and hurt. Clarisse channeled all the ugliness of war. All of her strength just for her. She who had just left this plane of existance.

Clarisse had lost her.

The thorns had lost their beauty.

And they would all pay for it.

I hope the Apollon and Daphne theme shone through ^^ lmk what you think!!