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vicariousandvain · 8 days ago

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❝ embers! ❞ — part. iii

synopsis: In which princess!reader slowly becomes encompassed with knight!jason grace

wordcount : 3.1k

read part 1 here

a/n: this ones for u girl @somewhereincairparavel ur so sweet and i hope u like it !!

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Y/N had gradually come to recognize just how often she chose to spend her time apart from others. She found solace in long, meandering walks through the forest’s tranquil embrace, where the rustling leaves and whispering winds offered a quiet companionship.

Many idle hours were spent away within the castle’s grand library, surrounded by ancient tomes and forgotten lore, her fingers tracing the faded pages as her mind wandered. Between these moments of solitude, she often retreated into the delicate world of her own making—penning whimsical, frivolous stories that danced between reality and fantasy, filling the quiet spaces of her days with imagined adventures and secret dreams.

She was often alone, but not lonely. Y/N was content with such a quiet, candid life for a very long time, but lately she began to wonder—what good is lucid living, if it led nowhere at all? Her father had no other children; she would become the heir, no doubt. She supposed things would grow more interesting once her father was fed up with her pleas for a “normal” life. He most likely had suitors lined up for her right now, waiting to let them ravage for her attention.

But then again, how normal could you be when you’re the sole successor to the throne?

She hated thinking about it. Hated thinking about the man she’d never learn to love, whoever he was, whoever he would become, y/n already knew he was nothing worth wasting time on. Of course, thoughts like these invaded her mind anyway, no matter how much she swore she’d never dedicate any time thinking about them.

y/n rarely had bouts of rage like her father did, but sometimes he would drive her almost to insanity with his absurd propositions. She recalled a particularly spirited argument with her father, she had thrown her goblet of juice at his face and had said some choice words that earned her an indefinite confinement in her bedroom—but when was she ever not sequestered up there?

It was moments like those where the distinct lines that defined y/n and her father began to converge. As much as she hated it, hated him, there was no denying that she was her fathers daughter.

Walking over to her balcony, narrowingly missing clothes and books that littered the floor, y/n opened the doors with a slight push. The cold immediately infiltrated her lungs, filling with sharp, clear air. She let the breeze envelope her body, watching as it swept stray pieces of poplar seeds through its current.

In the distance, y/n could hear the muffled sound of chatter from beyond the castle grounds—knights making their rounds, she assumed.

She thought of Jason, wondering if he was among the silhouettes just beyond the path that led to her balcony.

It had been well over a week since the ride on horseback, and there had been no other run-ins with the knight. This absence should have brought clarity to y/n, but she couldn't help the small, though persistent feeling of disappointment lodged quietly at the back of her mind.

Despite not seeing him face to face, she was still able to observe him from afar, veiled by the stones and shadows of the castle. She happened to find herself wandering along the gallery that overlooked the great hall—and where Jason conveniently happened to be stationed the most often.

Concealed behind the carved balustrade, y/n gazed below at the knight in shining armour.

y/n didn’t quite know what to make of him, he was nice, chivalrous—as a knight should be—but there was something about him she couldn't figure out. He was conscientious, disciplined, and there was an almost stoic aura that he seemed to carry around him, acting as a forcefield. He certainly didn't seem the type to break rules.

She rolled her eyes in annoyance, which was another thing that confounded her. Jason seemed to be perfectly adequate, and yet, something about him stirred an inexplicable sense of disdain from within her. She wasn’t sure what exactly it was that seemed to elicit such a reaction, but she had deemed him worthy of it nonetheless.

y/n leaned over the railing now, hand resting against her face, her meaningless tangent continued on in her head, ceasing for nothing but perhaps the most embarrassing moment of her life yet.

She was inspecting the back of Jason's head, deciding that his golden mop of hair was far too shiny for anyone’s good. Before she could look away, Jason turned—and his gaze landed directly on her before casually shifting to speak with another knight.

Much to y/n’s dismay, his brain was clearly working today. His eyes snapped back to the balcony, and this time, he seemed to realize exactly who had been staring. One brow arched, his mouth pulled into a devilish smile, which only seemed to grow larger at the sight of her eyes widening.

y/n immediately withdrew from the banister, pressing herself flat against the cold stone wall. Heat rushed to her cheeks. Mortified, she began pacing the corridor, internally spiraling after being caught.

She couldn’t stop replaying the look on his face—that cocky, insufferable smile—her skin flushed an even deeper red.

Smug bastard, she thought.

y/n had to stop herself from running to her father and begging him to behead her on the spot. No, she thought, she couldn't let Jason have the pleasure of catching her in such a humiliating state, and then the satisfaction of witnessing her death. He’d have to be executed first. Yes, this suited her needs much better.

Still pacing up and down the hall, y/n decided the best and most realistic course of action was to throw herself off her bedroom balcony, succumb to her injuries and end her bloodline.

She was never one for theatrics, but this undeniably left her with no other choice. Whatever, she thought, it’s not like she’d come across him anytime soon.

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y/n found herself leaning against the railing of her balcony. Recently, she seemed to frequent this spot late at night. Her mind seemed to unravel all at once, thinking of everything and nothing at the same time, it calmed her, she supposed.

“I’m off to my room, your highness, Good night!” Lilith, y/n’s handmaiden, was preparing her bed for the night. She closed the curtains of the bed before lighting a small oil lamp on the desk, Lilith waved y/n goodnight with an extra flourish of the hand before closing the door.

She was meant to go to bed much earlier, it must have been close to midnight now, but y/n seemed to be anything but sleepy these days.

The warm breeze brushed softly against her skin, it was a beautiful night, not a single cloud in the sky could plague the show of the stars. Y/N exhaled slowly, arms resting against the balcony railing. The quiet was pleasant, but it did little to settle the buzz of restlessness under her skin.

She wasn’t tired, nor particularly content. Maybe a walk would help.

Her gaze drifted to the tree just beyond the edge of the balcony, she looked downwards, sizing up the distance between herself and the ground, it was a rather large drop—but manageable.

She contemplated whether or not to actually go through with the plan formulating in her head before shrugging on a light cloak. Y/N hoisted herself over the railing, praying she wouldn't fall to her death, shimmying over as close as she could to the tree, and let out a hand to secure herself on the biggest branch.

Scaling the tree, her nightgown snagged on a stray twig every now and then, and she mentally scolded herself for not choosing better footwear. Her soft, pink slippers didn’t offer much cushion as she navigated the gnarled, tough bark. Nevertheless, she eventually made it to the branch nearest to the ground, whispered a prayer, and jumped.

Letting out a small yelp as she made contact with the ground, she gingerly looked around and brushed herself off before setting off on a steady trek. Not quite sure where to go, she decided to just walk and see where her feet would take her.

As she drifted along the castle grounds, aimlessly kicking stray rocks that appeared in her path, y/n began to wonder about herself and her character. Those pesky thoughts of the future seemed to invade her mind, would she ever be fit to rule? The very idea of it unsettled her. Her heartbeat quickened, each beat ushering in a fresh wave of uncertainty and self-reproach.

No. This walk was meant to keep her mind off such things. y/n rolled her shoulders and released a shaky breath before marching forward. She soon found herself in a more secluded part of the garden, surrounded by mature trees and arched, flower-filled trellises, everything around her seemed to be cloaked in a rich green. After spending an absurd amount of time trying to coax the nymphs to come out—gods, how lonely was she?—she settled on quietly venturing further.

As she wandered deeper into the garden, y/n stumbled upon a small stone bridge arched gracefully over a shallow stream. Ivy twisted up its sides, and moonlight shimmered faintly across its damp stones.

She stepped closer, but halted the second she spotted a figure perched casually atop the bridge’s edge. She took a cautious step backward, hoping to melt into the shadows before they noticed. Her heel met a dry twig. Snap.

The figure’s head jerked up.

“Who's there?” His voice was sharp, alert—far from welcoming, but something about the deep baritone was familiar, almost as if she’d heard it before. Y/N sucked in a breath, flattening herself behind the nearest tree. Maybe if she stayed perfectly still—

“Show yourself,” the voice warned again, footsteps starting toward her.

She cringed. So much for a quiet walk. Turning before he could come any closer, y/n revealed herself to the mysterious voice. The figure stilled, confusion flickering across his features as electric blue eyes met hers and recognition slowly dawned.

“Your highness, you really shouldn't be here at this time of night.” Jason bowed and let out a sigh, still perplexed, but relieved it was just her. She tugged her cloak around herself protectively before sneering at him, “I’m free to go wherever I please,” she snapped, her tone sharper than intended and he quirked a brow in response, taken aback by the sudden bite in her voice.

She wasn’t sure where this derision was coming from, she was generally a very pleasant person to be around, but something about Jason seemed to reconfigure her entirely. He raised both his hands in defense, “I didn’t mean anything by it, my mistake.” He gave her a roguish smile, a mischievous glint in his eyes. She suddenly had the urge to smack him.

He was acting sort of different—to be fair, she didn't have much to base it off—but he was definitely more relaxed in that moment. When she happened to coincidentally notice him in the castle, he was much more phlegmatic and serious. But something in his demeanor changed, y/n already knew what it was, she was honestly dreading seeing him again after that little incident in the great hall. It had taken a severe hit to her ego, but had clearly done wonders to Jason’s.

Jason was pushing his luck today, he either didn’t notice the daggers she was shooting him or just chose to ignore them altogether. “Well, since you’re so determined to stay,” He took a step forward and offered his arm to her, prompting her to take hold of him. “why don’t we walk?" Irritation flared up from under her skin as she gave him a slow once-over; his eyebrow still raised, waiting for her to make a move.

She scoffed, and promptly swept past him.

Jason watched as she disappeared further into the dense forest, he was momentarily caught off guard by her steady pace. He fell into step behind her, quickly matching her stride.

Y/N slightly turned her head towards him, “What were you doing here anyway? Slacking off on rounds, I assume?” her voice was laced with taunt, but there were traces of genuine curiosity tucked between the words. Jason looked at her with furrowed brows, almost troubled by this notion. “I finished my patrols hours ago. I come here when I have free time to spare,” He replied, his tone clipped and dutiful, chin slightly tilted upward with reserved pride. Y/N had to bite her lip to restrain herself from laughing.

“Gods, you’re like an automaton,” she said—partly because it was true, partly because she wanted to get a rise out of him.

Jason didn’t respond. Instead, he came to an abrupt stop beside a patch of wildflowers, lowering his gaze as if suddenly fascinated by them. His shoulders stiffened just enough to betray him. He crouched down, reaching out toward a bloom, but didn’t touch it. For a moment, he just looked, saying nothing.

He pondered over what y/n had said, he’d heard similar things from many people before, his friends, his sister, his mother probably would have shared the same sentiment if she bothered to stick around.

Jason’s mother rescinded her responsibility of him when he was barely 2 years old, leaving him at a noblewoman's house. No note. No explanation. Just a nameless person pressing a child into the arms of a confused servant before vanishing into the mist. The noblewoman took him in—whether out of pity, curiosity, or some unspoken debt, no one ever said.

He grew up among the stable hands and scullery boys, not quite servant, not quite family. At seven, he was forced to start training. He served as a page, fetching armor, memorizing the lay of the land, reciting the noble codes he could barely understand.

He never knew a childhood beyond discipline, drills, and the chill bite of the wind during dawn marches. While others chose the path of knighthood, Jason was forged in it—raised by steel, trained by gritted commands and hard silences. By fourteen, he was a squire to one of the order’s most brutal commanders. And by the time he earned his knighthood, he'd already seen more blood than most men twice his age.

(a/n: the following paragraph is an excerpt from BoO, I thought rick did a perfect job of describing why jason is the way he is)

Jason supposed that all of his “automaton” likeness came from hollow words left by his mother, all he had of her was small, fragmented remnants of memory. She assured him she would return, but he’d never wake to see her face again. His mothers unkept promise was at the core of who he was. He built his entire life around the irritation of her words, like the grain of sand at the center of a pearl. People lie. Promises are broken. That was why, as much as it chafed him, Jason followed rules. He kept his promises. He never wanted to abandon anyone the way he'd been abandoned and lied to.

Y/N immediately took notice of the subtle change in his presence, he had a crease in between his brows and his gaze hadn’t faltered from the flowers. They stayed silent for almost an entire minute, the strained quiet was teetering on the edge of discomfort before he cleared his throat.

“I guess.” Jason sighed before pointing to a clearing nestled between the heavy trees. “Shall we sit down for a bit?” He gestured for her to follow him into the thicket.

Woah, okay—She didn’t mean for this to turn all solemn, y/n quickly glanced at him before looking away. Brushing off a few stray twigs from the space, Jason removed his cloak and laid it on the ground. He sank down onto it with a quiet exhale, leaning back as a despondent look settled in his eyes.

Y/N looked at him once more, watching how the moonlight traced the lines of his figure. Then she sat beside him, careful to leave a respectable amount of space between them.

She wasn't quite sure why she was entertaining this, if it were any other knight y/n was certain she’d walk herself all the way back to the castle and give in to her exhaustion. Yet, there was a particular presence about Jason that intrigued her, drawing her closer despite her apparent reluctance.

“I’m sorry,” she blurted. “I didn’t mean to insinuate you were apathetic or anything—I was just teasing a little.” She babbled on for a moment, but then he paused, tilting his head as he looked at her, a flicker of bemusement in his eyes. After a brief silence, he threw his head back and howled with laughter.

She stared at him in disbelief, debating whether to fire off a quick retort or take back her apology, but her breath hitched as she noticed the muscles in his neck tense with each laugh. His adam’s apple bobbed with every breath and she could surely trace the veins with her finger if she just reached out and—

Y/N snapped back to reality as Jason forced himself to calm down, his shoulders still slightly convulsing “Forgive me, your grace.” He struggled to speak through a smile as he wiped the corners of his eyes. Really? There was no way anything she could have said was humorous enough to bring tears to his eyes.

She glowered at him, arms crossed over her chest, expectantly waiting for an explanation for such an outburst in response to her humble apology. Jason looked above them, gazing at the way the canopy of the trees just barely met each other, leaving just enough space as not to disturb the crown of neighboring foliage. His eyes followed the channel-like spaces that allowed streams of moonlight to fall through.

A mellow expression softened his face before ushering out something close to a whisper. “I haven't laughed like that in a while.” He gave her a small look of apology before smiling again. “I wasn’t expecting you to be so flustered, it just… caught me off guard, that’s all.” He gave a small shrug. She raised a brow in response, amusement tugging at her lips as a smile of her own crept in. He added with a grin, “You looked so serious—I couldn’t help it.”

Y/N didn’t say anything—nor did Jason. The pair settled into a newfound, comfortable silence, contentedly reveling in each other’s presence. They let the quiet stretch between them and simply sat, listening to the forest breathe around them.

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Later that night, nestled beneath her covers, Y/N exhaled quietly, her gaze fixed upon the ceiling as her thoughts meticulously replayed the events of the evening. Though Jason remained a source of irritation, an undeniable tranquility began to settle within her—a subtle acknowledgment that perhaps, beneath it all, he was not so disagreeable as she had believed.

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vicariousandvain · 8 days ago

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that damn brick 💔

#hoo #jason grace #heroes of olympus #im actually a newly converted jason girlie

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vicariousandvain · 8 days ago

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i absolutely NEED you too continue this story with jason oh my gosh.

jk since u asked so nicely sure 😇

#jason grace fanfic #slow burn #knight!jason

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vicariousandvain · 9 days ago

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"em dashes are clear indicators of ai use" ohhh myyy goddd shut uppppppppppp

where do u think ai gets its inspiration from

#me and my em dash abuse against the world ♥️#its not ai i just like em dashes i promise #chatgpt imitates real people and writers 💔

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vicariousandvain · 21 days ago

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this is so insanely fire and i fucking love jason

thank you for putting this out into the world omg

this is stroking my ego yall better stop 😛 (thank you sm i appreciate it !!!) 💗

#this is actually insane #jason grace fanfic

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vicariousandvain · 22 days ago

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❝ embers! ❞ — part. ii

synopsis: In which princess!reader slowly becomes encompassed with knight!jason grace

wordcount : 2.4k

read part 1 here

a/n: enjoy

⋆ ˚｡ ⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡ ⋆

y/n sat against the large, plush chair, picking at soft white bread drizzled with honey while her maid poured a goblet of warm spiced wine. A chilled plate of sliced fruit and creamy cheese rested untouched beside her—her appetite dulled by her fathers incessant muttering.

While stacking sliced pears atop one another, y/n glanced towards her father, eyebrows furrowing at the realization that he’d been wearing the same garments from the night before. She cleared her throat, leaning slightly forward.

“Father, are you alright?” Her voice was laced with concern as he paid her no attention. “...Father? You don't seem to—” He raised a hand with a small wave, cutting her off and dismissing her entirely. y/n sank back down into her chair with a huff, brushing strands of hair out of her face before leaving the table. The exchange with her father was about as equally as nourishing as the emptiness in her stomach.

y/n sighed as she sauntered through the castle halls, stopping only briefly to look at the multitude of portraits and landscapes that graced the interior of the stone walls. Her relationship with her father was nothing short of labyrinthine, she never knew when he would embrace her or endlessly berate her for failing to fulfill trivial royal duties.

Her walk ceased as she came across a particular portrait at the end of the hall. She stared at the depiction of herself, nestled in the arms of her mother, her father standing proud behind them. She lingered, her fingers lightly brushing the frame of the portrait as she looked into her mothers eyes.

y/n sharply inhaled through her nose. The events of that night burned fresh in her mind, almost taunting her. The room had smelled of herbs and sweat. y/n remembered the way the healer's hands never stopped moving—wringing cloths, grinding powders, whispering prayers to gods that didn't listen. But nothing changed.

The fever took her mother by morning. Her father hadn’t cried. Not once. He sat at the edge of the bed, unmoving, eyes locked on something no one else could see. When y/n touched his sleeve, he didn’t flinch, but he didn’t look at her either. She wanted to tear the sky open with her bare hands—rip it apart until the stars bled for everything she’d lost. Instead, she stood shaking, jaw tight, grief boiling beneath her skin with nowhere to go.

Since then, every word between them had been stiff—measured like currency. Some days he forgot her title. Other days, her name.

y/n lingered a moment longer, eyes tracing the faded smile in the portrait before turning away, her footsteps echoing down the corridor.

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Jason gritted his teeth as the man yanked him upright by his hair, a harsh sound breaking from his throat—but he didn’t look away. Blood stung his eyes, but he forced them open, staring down the cloaked figure with steady defiance.

“Who are you? What do you want?” he barked, voice hoarse but unflinching. Then, with a slow curl of his lip, he spat at the man’s feet.

Beneath the hood, the stranger's face twitched with disgust, brows furrowing. Jason didn’t flinch, even as the grip on him tightened.

“Heed this as a warning to you—and to all of King L/N’s men,” the man sneered, spitting the king’s name like venom. Jason held his glare, jaw clenched, unbowed. He reached out and dragged a finger down Jason's chest, digging it hard and rough right above his heart.

Jason's gaze flicked to the man's wrist. A small, but clear sigil was scorched onto his skin. He recognized that mark. He’d spent weeks studying it. The barrier had been compromised—Lord Fenric’s men were already inside among the people.

Then, with sudden force, Jason drove his forehead into the man’s face—a sharp crack of bone on bone. The cloaked figure staggered back, cursing, blood spilling from his nose.

Jason didn’t wait. He grabbed his dagger from beneath his tunic, and turned, pressing it lightly against the man’s neck. Inching it deeper and deeper into his skin, droplets of blood began popping up from under his blade. Deciding against it, Jason retracted his dagger and kicked the man to the ground, leaving him in the alley before bounding away into the market.

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Unbeknownst to Jason—and the king, y/n wandered through the traffic-laden plaza, hoping to distract herself from recent events. She drifted from booth to booth before her eyes caught onto something remarkably beautiful. A necklace adorned with jewels shimmered before her. Its gems glowing in hues so ethereal y/n couldn't begin to describe them. The necklace seemed to possess a gravity of its own, drawing her towards it, beckoning her to unfasten the clasp and lay it against her skin.

Before she could raise a hand towards the necklace, a loud clatter distracted her. Turning to search for the source of commotion, she watched as a large basket of fruit tumbled from an old vendor's hands. Without a second thought, she surged forward to help, picking up the stray oranges that lay before her feet.

But someone else had already moved, swift and sure, dropping to a crouch and gathering fruit with quiet urgency. A passerby, she thought, or perhaps a guard. She bent down beside him, reaching a hand forward to give him the fruit she had collected—and stilled.

Jason.

He looked down at her, his brows knit in confusion, “...my lady, what are you doing here?”

They both know she shouldn't be here, her father would be furious. A futile attempt at calming her nerves sent a nervous laugh through her body. Jason quirked an eyebrow up at the sound, though he couldn't stop the twitch at his mouth from threatening to pull into a smile. Trying to get a word out from in between laughs, y/n nonsensically spoke, “forgive me, I’m not quite sure to be honest, I just wanted some air.”

Her laughter faded as her gaze flicked from his face to his hands. The skin around his temples was flushed and tight, and he had small cuts littering his body. She couldn't tear her gaze away from his eyes. Had they always been that shade of blue? Her eyes trailed the scrapes on his arms, the bruises blooming beneath his skin, the faint tremble in his stance. Her breath hitched as she reached out a hand, tracing the spots on his arm that were muddled with specks of blood.

Heat rose on her face as she realized what she was doing, immediately retracting her hand, her voice was firm. “What happened?”

Jason shook his head as he slightly bowed, wincing as his head tilted forward. “Nothing of concern, your grace.” He straightened his back and started to walk past her before realizing the situation. Turning back, he looked at the princess and sighed. “May I escort you home? The sun will set soon, and I’m sure the king would like you within the castle.”

Was that annoyance in his voice? Clearly he was guarding himself, but what for, she couldn't figure out. Letting out a sigh, she accepted his offer, she tugged her cloak protectively over her head. She had a scarf wrapped around the front of her face, how he recognized her—especially in such a concealed state— she didn't know. Better Jason than her father, she thought.

He gestured with his hand for her to follow him, ignoring everything in her body telling her no, she stalked behind him. y/n wasn’t sure what this feeling was, it’s not like she didn't trust him, however, realization dawned on her as she comprehended the fact that she truly didn’t know him; was it foolish? following him so blindly? He could be leading her to her death for all she knew.

Pulling her from her thoughts, Jason cleared his throat. “What was that thing you were looking at? Back at the stand?” His voice had a gentler tone to it, inviting her to respond. She thought for a moment, letting the silence blanket the both of them. Ignoring his question, she fired up one of her own, “why do you look like you've been passed through a washing board?”

Heeding his reaction, she watched as Jason let out a sharp exhale through his nose. Her question was forward, and his response said enough.

Fine, she thought, I can be irritating too—(though to Jason, this was already evident.)

Rolling her eyes as they continued walking, her gaze sharpened, taking him in more carefully. There was something off about his demeanor. Tense, closed off, too controlled. Not at all like the day he was sparring. He kept looking behind them, ushering her to move faster—politely, of course, but incessant nonetheless.

They’d been walking for a little over 10 minutes when suddenly Jason stopped and pointed westward, “Right, we’ve made it to Tempest.”

Standing next to an overgrown patch of grass was the largest friesian y/n had ever seen—unaccompanied by a carriage, no less. Deep crimson dusted her face as she realized what was about to happen. She wasn’t sure what she was expecting, it's not like either of them had known they'd run into each other. There was no time for travel preparations or plans. But still, the thought of herself so close to a man—to Jason— was unnerving.

Jason sheepishly scratched the back of his neck, “I know it’s a little unorthodox, but I can’t let you roam all the way back to the castle this late in the evening. I’m still clueless as to how you got here all by yourself on foot.” He let out a laugh, the sound radiated around them in the empty plains.

He was nervous, and his body was doing everything in its power to show it. Beads of sweat began gathering above his brow, and he twisted the sleeve of his tunic in between his fingers. Sure, a pretty girl wrapped around him was enough to induce a little perspiration, but he was more concerned about being followed by Fenric’s men. There was no telling how many of them were within the town limits, or how far they had gotten.

y/n walked apprehensively towards the stallion, arm reached out to allow it to get used to her scent. She’d taken riding lessons as a child, but had never grown fond of it. Something about being so exposed, the lack of protection, had always left her uneasy.

Furthering this notion, Tempest pinned his ears back and whinnied—almost angrily. The muscles beneath his obsidian coat tensed. Then, with a sudden jerk, he reared, almost taking out y/n with the movement.

The two exchanged a wide eyed glance. “Well… I’m sure it’s fine”

Jason did not sound confident.

Upon calming Tempest with a spare carrot in his bag, Jason swung onto the saddle in one smooth motion, then turned and reached down, one hand extended. “Here, hold onto my arm.” y/n hesitated before stepping closer, she rested a hand on his shoulder, the other on his bicep. Stifling a yelp, she scrambled awkwardly as Jason took hold of her waist, hoisting her up and setting her behind him. Unsure of where to put her hands, she slightly hovered them over his skin before settling them on his back.

“Are you ready? The ride shouldn’t take too long, we’ll arrive before the sun sets.” Jason kept his eyes ahead, but there was a stiffness in his shoulders. “And… I’m sorry, I know you’re not accustomed to rides like this, but trust me when I say this is necessary.” His voice had an edge to it, and a wave of malaise seemed to consume the surrounding air.

Well, she thought, at least he’s a gentleman

It was considered highly improper for someone of her rank to be riding in such close quarters with a knight. It would ruin her image and bring shame to her father, not to mention imply illicit involvement… She shook her head, shooing the thoughts from her mind. Thankful that she had her cloak on, y/n hummed in response. “It’s alright, let’s just go before anyone spots us.”

Jason used his legs to urge Tempest to go forward, the stallion began to walk briskly before breaking out into full strides. The sudden change in speed startled y/n, threatening her to fall backwards. Without thinking, y/n moved her hands from Jason's back to around his waist, gripping onto the thin material of his tunic.

She could feel the hard, smooth planes of his torso from beneath his shirt. The contours of his abdomen were so defined she wasn’t sure if she was imagining it. He had hours of training to thank for that, no doubt. Heat spread across her face, she had never been so close to another before.

Tempest tore across the open grasslands, his hooves drumming the earth in a steady rhythm. Without warning, a shadowed thicket emerged ahead, dense and sudden. He slowed to a canter as they slipped between the trees, weaving through the narrowing path beneath the canopy, the castle just beyond the woods.

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As they got closer to the castle, y/n guided them to the area of the woods that led to the balcony of her room. Thankfully, just to the right was the entrance to the servants’ quarters, all of the maids were so familiar with y/n roaming in and out their halls; her presence there would raise no suspicion.

Jason helped her slip off the stallion, hands back on her waist as he gently set her down on the earthen ground. An awkward, but pleasant silence settled around them. y/n looked up at the knight and let the hood of her cloak fall around her shoulders before speaking.

“Thank you, Jason. This was nice.” y/n wasn’t entirely sure what she meant by this—the ride, his company, or something in between—but she smiled at him all the same.

Returning the smile, Jason bowed before looking up at her, “Good night, your grace.” He mounted his horse before giving her a small wave, departing the clearing in the woods.

y/n let out a quiet sigh as she rested her head against the cool, mossy stone wall. She wasn’t entirely sure what had just happened, but she certainly didn't regret anything. Her eyes lingered on the spot where he had stood only moments ago, heart still catching up to the moment. Then, with one last glance, she turned and slipped into the castle’s shadowed halls.

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vicariousandvain · 27 days ago

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your jason was fic AMAZING!! I can't believe it's your first ever fic!! I really hope there are many parts of this fic bc ughh I don't wanna stop reading!! I loved the yearning/blushes between them

u have no idea how happy this made me thank u so much !!!! i’ll def continue it since the reactions have been so good but again ty for ur sweet words 💞💞

(i have so many ideas but please send requests i’ll literally write anything and incorporate it into the story 🙏)

#i’m literally blushing u guys are so sweet #percy jackson #jason grace fanfic #slow burn #heroes of olympus

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vicariousandvain · 27 days ago

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❝ embers! ❞ — part. i

synopsis: In which princess!reader slowly becomes encompassed with knight!jason grace

wordcount : 1.5k

a/n: hello this is unedited and my first ever fanfic so please be forgiving and lmk if u want more !!

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Cold air seared her lungs as she ran, the forest blurring in streaks of grey and green. She was fleeing— not from danger, but from everything she’d ever known, the idea of escape felt exhilarating, until she tripped over a stray branch.

Crashing into the cold, rough dirt, all the air in her lungs was pushed out of her. The sound of ripping fabric jolted her off her back, with wide eyes, Y/N sighed exasperatingly before dusting dirt and debris off her gown.

Muttering to herself while checking for any cuts or scrapes, Y/N let out a groan before starting a trek back to the castle. She had grown fond of the idea of leaving her place in the kingdom, even going as far as simulating the experience for herself by running through the woods. A self-imposed fantasy of rebellion was the most excitement she’d ever get, seeing as her father rarely let her leave the castle. A princess had no business gallivanting in town, especially not among peasants. Or so he claimed.

As she advanced closer to the town, the stares of passersby began to become increasingly harder to ignore. Diving in between the busy buildings, Y/N wove her way throughout the jostling village and onto the path that led to the castle. Upon reaching the premises, she snuck into a window that led to the servants kitchen with practiced ease.

“Y/N! What are you doing here?” Bewildered, Lilith’s knife paused mid-chop as she scolded Y/N before laughing. Y/N leaned against the wall as she hummed, an amused glimmer shone in her eyes before responding. “Don’t pretend you know not of my whereabouts” she chimed with a smirk. Y/N had a bad habit of waltzing into the servants quarters to talk to her handmaiden, Lilith. Something that she had been yelled at for many a time by her father.

Lilith gave a sideways glance at the state of Y/N’s gown, deciding not to question. Rolling up her sleeves before sinking a handful of carrots into a basin, Lilith looked up at Y/N “Before I forget, the king requested your presence today in the throne room. Something about courtship?” Lilith said her last sentence a couple octaves too high, teasing Y/N. Thumping her forehead against the wall a couple times, Y/N sighed, “I’d rather have my head on a spike before discussing future prospects with my father.”

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Tip-toeing past the throne room, Y/N ran a finger along the castle walls, trying to reach the safe haven of her bedroom before running into her father. “...Your Grace, I bring word from the Northern Front, Lord Fenric’s forces have broken through the pass.” Y/N’s finger halted to a stop, she slowly crept back towards the throne room, holding her breath as she listened to the deep, unfamiliar voice.

Lord Fenric? Broken through the pass? Y/N had heard that name before in several hushed, tense conversations between her father and his commanders in battle. She could hear the disgruntled voice of the king as he thrust random objects across the table. “Send men along the border to stand guard.” the king exhaled as he pinched his nose bridge, trying to steady his thoughts.

Quivering outside the room, Y/N started to pace back and forth, attempting to make sense of what she’d just heard. Her father was not the type to sound so nervous, he was a big, fervid man who never showed worry.

Wrapped up in her thoughts and unable to hear the slight groan of the door as it swung outward, Y/N was met with a fairly warm, hard surface straight to her forehead. Stumbling backward, she placed a hand on her face, rubbing the spot that made contact with what she assumed to be a wall. “Damn it,” she cursed under her breath before looking up. Y/N made eye contact with a man who had a rather horrified expression on his face.

Y/N’s breath hitched as she assessed the man before her. He was tall, and had a muscular frame. His blond hair fell across his forehead, but every strand seemed uniform. As her eyes trailed down his face she noticed a small scar, barely 2 inches long on his top lip. In his hand he carried the helmet of a knight.

All in all he was handsome, Y/N began to feel a slight blush creep up the back of her neck. He kneeled and bowed his head before looking up at her, “Your Highness– forgive me, I wasn’t looking at where I was going.” He stumbled over his words and a similar blush rose from under his skin.

“It’s alright, the fault was my own” she chuckled as she politely nodded her head, acknowledging his apology, “and please, call me Y/N.” She eyed him curiously as he got up from his stance and bowed his head once more, “Jason,” he replied. He gave her one last sheepish smile before walking past her and down the corridor.

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She had seen the knight before from within the windows of the castle; he was often stationed outside the gates or along the walls if not patrolling the grounds with other knights-men. She had never paid him much attention, but recently he seemed to be popping up more and more frequently.

Dodging her fathers questions about future alliances with far away princes, Y/N exited the room through a back door and started to wander along the garden paths, her footsteps soft against the gravel. Her hands whispered over the dew-slick flowers before finding herself at the foot of the courtyard entrance.

Y/N could hear people talking rather loudly, almost howling from laughter from beyond the threshold of the garden. Curiosity threatening to overflow, Y/N began unlocking the gate, she pushed open the heavy, grass stained barrier and continued walking.

“Hah! Can’t get me when your sword’s fallen, can you Frank?” Jason laughed triumphantly as his sparring partner lay on the pebbled floor in defeat. Reaching over for the hilt of his sword, Frank playfully glared at Jason, “Whatever…” Frank muttered, standing up and getting back into position. They continued to spar in the courtyard, wooden blades withering under the sun.

Y/N watched from beyond the hedges as the two slashed and dodged each other's hits. Nearing the 3rd round that Frank has lost, leaving him in a particularly funny spot— he had somehow managed to get his sword stuck behind his gambeson— before she could stop herself, a laugh left her lips, grabbing the boys’ attention. Their heads whipped towards the hedge the laugh was coming from and Y/N quickly put a hand over her mouth, reddening by the second.

Coming out from behind the bushes, Y/N greeted the men, “Good morning, sorry to interrupt your match, it seems like you were just about to win.” she jested as she gestured to Frank with a smile. “Good morning, your highness,” both boys knelt down and bowed their heads before returning grins.

Jason rose to his feet, brushing his hands along the seams of his gambeson. “Apologies, your grace, had I known you were watching I might have let Frank win a round.” He smirked as he made his way towards the princess, absentmindedly inhaling her jasmine scent.

Frank scoffed and shook his head slightly, deciding not to fall prey to his instigation. Y/N laughed, her eyes crinkling warmly at the corners. Jason felt the sound stick to him like honey clinging to his skin— sweet and impossible to ignore— He scolded himself silently, but couldn't stop the small quirk from tugging at his lips.

Turning back to her, he forced a casual tone. “I hope all is well with yourself and the king, no more running into any more clumsy knights I trust?” Jason teased, flustering both himself and Y/N with the sudden confidence. She gave him a small nod, her smile softening as she held his gaze a moment longer than expected.

Then, with a gentle sigh, she turned and began walking back toward the castle, her footsteps slow — as if reluctant to leave the warmth of the moment behind.

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Y/N sat at her harp, vacantly strumming her fingers along the various strings. She kept replaying the sequence of events from earlier that day. Smiling softly to herself, she continued to reminisce about the most enjoyable experience she’d had in quite some time.

Y/N didn’t have a lot of company in and around the castle, her father was determined to make sure she was well versed in things like foreign language, embroidery, and of course, the harp and pianoforte.

However, her heart quickened as she thought back to Jason in his sparring uniform. The interaction was hardly flirtatious; if anything, she was just happy to finally have someone who may talk to her every once in a while.

Upon this realization Y/N clasped her face into her hands, “How pathetic to be so affected by a mere smirk…” she muttered, a hint of self-mockery in her voice. With a sigh she extinguished the oil lamp atop her desk and slipped beneath the covers. Determined to rid her mind of a certain blonde haired knight, Y/N drifted to sleep.

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a/n: ty @stellashine for giving me this idea i hope ur satisfied 💞

#percy jackson #jason grace #jason grace x reader #heros of olympus au #princess!reader #slow burn #yearning #jason is a cutie #jason grace fanfiction #fem!reader #jason grace fanfic #middle ages #riordanverse #knight!jason #eventual smut

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