Summary: He thinks, how can this fragile and delicate mortal with a perishable body and a scent so attractive to monsters be his key to godhood? Spoilers from TOA: Hidden Oracle
Author's Notes: So, I was working on I'm sorry, I burned your kitchen but ugh the heat is killing me and my muse, plus the headaches are really annoying; I really should quit drinking too much coffee but this is coffee we're talking about how can you quit coffeeeeeee
Anyway. As a PJO fan, I am amazed by the first book of Trials of Apollo. It has Rick's usual taste of humour and very diverse characters; we see Will and Nico and Percy, so that's a plus, and the plot is tying up everything that Percy Jackson and the Olympians, and Heroes of Olympus have. It's has an interesting concept since we're dealing with historical figures this time and the book went to a dark turn when you realize what Nero had actually done according to historical accounts and what happened to Meg to have that kind of fear. It also deals the themes of mortality and immortality in some way (the strongest hint is at the end of the book, and since we're gonna have Calypso, the second book will probably touch more of this immortality/mortality issue), and Apollo's character development is awesome and I LOVE CHARACTER DEVELOPMENTS.
(Solangelo part was cute but I'd like to see development, just like what happened to Percabeth and in some way to Jasper)
As my tribute to Uncle Rick's beautiful creation, I made this fanfic on the spot - just to quell my feelings for Meg and Apollo, but mostly Apollo.
Nihilarian
(n.) A person who deals with things lacking importance
i. Meg McCaffrey needs him.
His fall to grace is as painful and rough as it can be, but then comes a girl with a tri-colored armor and an army of rotten fruit. She drives away his offenders with her strange powers (and her strange garment), and after he explains that he is a god and he is punished here to serve a mortal, she asks for his servitude. She is a ragamuffin of a child – a crusty sea urchin at best and a living traffic light at worst – but her words hold as much power as the thunder claps into the sky.
She hails to be Meg McCaffrey, and now, she is his master.
Apollo doesn't want to admit it, but his situation has now been reversed. He was a god, who was worshipped and loved by others, but now, he is dependent on the whims of this child who likes cartwheeling the next and walking stiffly the other minute. He knows he will face many hardships – and many more, because of this demigod who seems oblivious to the workings of this world and devoid of contact from any of her kind – and he thinks, how can this fragile and delicate mortal with a perishable body and a scent so attractive to monsters be his key to godhood?
Somehow, the question feels a lot like déjà vu, but he can't remember when he has first asked the question because his mortal human brain cannot contain millennium's worth of memories.
Nonetheless, her first order of business (after listening to him) is to go to Percy Jackson, a valiant hero who has served the gods well and deserving of his uncle's blood. He hopes, in the demigod's retirement, that the Poseidon child is willing to assist the gods again, just as the countless heroes who begged Apollo's blessing in exchange for a godly favor.
Apollo is mistaken, Sally Jackson is pregnant, and Percy wishes for a quiet life with Annabeth; from now, it is he and Meg together.
ii. Meg McCaffrey needs him.
Apollo is gravely mistaken about her and her abilities. She is able to summon a strange karpoi with a limited vocabulary, she is able to carry him across the grove of forests that drives him mad with his regrets and failures, she wields dual blades and a skill of ancient Roman warriors, and she is a daughter of Demeter.
Chiron stares at her like how he has looked on Jason, Perseus, Achilles and other countless heroes; Meg McCaffrey is strong and for a moment, Apollo believes that she is a master who is deserving to be served.
So, naturally, as the powerful demigod she is, she needs him.
It's a simple game of a three-legged race, organized by a pipsqueak of a child who might have inherited Hephaestus's wild and crazy nature, in which he is needed. He plays the role of a partner in a marathon of one of the dangerous areas in the entire world. The Labyrinth is subtle in its desire to kill, its desire for blood to be shed in its walls, but this child walks through it with no fear in her eyes. Apollo decides that it is either she has no fear or has no knowledge of what this place is.
He chooses the latter.
When they stumble in the trap and the Labyrinth takes the chance to lead them to their demise, Apollo is once again put in the grasps of his old and worst enemy, who's only memory and fallen corpse has driven him almost mad with fear. His ancient voice resurfaces the old fears Apollo has thought he has forgotten, and as a mortal human, his fears are multiplied when he realizes he is defenseless against an Ancient force such as Python.
And when a familiar voice mentions the name 'The Beast', Meg reflects the same fear as he has.
The Labyrinth plays with them and they are returned from whence they came – a pile of garbage; he is lucky that he did not encounter Python and Meg is lucky that she did not encounter the Beast. She is strong and powerful, and can become a valiant hero in the future, but the way she is now, she is nothing but fodder to an Ancient beast.
At that moment, Apollo realizes that he is the only one capable of defeating Python once again, protecting Meg and the demigods, their futures and fears.
Meg needs him. And so does the others. They fear Python and whatever workings behind his appearance, and they will need him to get rid of it.
It's a responsibility that Apollo is not willing to take in this powerless form.
They return back into the murderous mouth of the Labyrinth and emerge right into the forest; they run back to Camp Half-Blood in haste to which the news of his children's disappearance greets him somberly.
iii. Meg McCaffrey needs him.
The old crazy Emperor of his descent has resurfaced, his Oracles are all in danger, the Beast has taken his children and the myrmeke has taken Meg; she has fought a persistent fight, but she is nothing but a child, and these monsters are vicious beings. Apollo is injured and bleeding – the red, warm liquid taunts him, tells him he is a god no longer – and it infuriates him. He has no capacity to play an instrument, no capacity to fight, and the oath will now slowly kill him just as cancer spreads through the body; there is nothing he can do.
And there has been no difference – whether he was a god or a perishable human that he is now.
He remembers Daphne, the silent but humble nymph who's smooth skin turned to rough bark and the only thing he has done for her is wear her leaves to repent; Hyacinthus, the golden-hearted and free-spirited prince who's head contorted in a degree of no return and the only thing he has done is turn the prince's blood into a beautiful flower to regret; Artemis, his all-powerful and loyal twin who fell into the clutches of the Titan Atlas and the only thing he has done is send Percy Jackson to retrieve her for his sake; his children, Lee Fletcher and Michael Yew, who have never seen their siblings grow into fine demigods of their own right because of a war that he has a hand in, and the only thing he has done is weep for their fallen forms. He remembers – with the best of his ability – the mortals who has come to seek his guidance, and the only thing he has done is give them vague assurances of the future.
As a god or as a mortal, there has never been really a difference. He does nothing.
But, as a mortal, there is a desire – a small kindle of ember – in his heart to make things different, to actually seek change when he was a god of all things that are already set in the course of destiny.
He wants to save Meg. She needs him.
He swears an oath to Pete when there is no assurance that he can actually keep it; it is a careless decision, he knows, and the gods might be laughing at him over to Olympus, but he has no power to see the future or mind their laughter from where he stands.
He pukes, he stumbles and rises back up. Rhea greets him with her new groovy look and a dangerous assignment to protect their only source of Prophecy now, and he is healed by his son and soon to be son-in law. He sets out, like the demigods he has sent to dangerous quests.
He is weak, he is brittle, and at any moment, his broken oath can kill him, but somehow, in his hazy and mortal mind, only the thought of Meg and his children remains clear.
He stares at the sky – he cannot see them, but they can see him – and he shouts: "If you want to punish me, Father, be my guest, but have the courage to hurt me directly, not my mortal companion. BE A MAN!"
iv. Meg McCaffrey needs him.
Her betrayal hurts as much as Daphne's metamorphosis and Hyacinthus' death, but in the end he understands and he is able to sway her back to him, even for just a moment. Nero is gone and Meg has fled into the talking woods, but he remains sane because he needs to talk to Meg and he has to save her before it is too late.
He does not need to hear the concerned whispers of the trees about the poor child of Demeter; he knows how much she needs his help, more than ever.
Apollo is a god, but no matter how much powerful he is, he can never understand Nero if it not for their direct blood relation. He knows Nero's sick and twisted mind, his hunger for power and glory, his desire to be loved and respected. Apollo loved him, even supported him, but Nero's twisted morality and the fire that ravaged the Empire has put sour buds on his tongue, and he didn't weep for the fallen Emperor when the latter died. Apollo was foolish and so shallow back in that time; it is only now, in this surprisingly empathetic form, that he understands that Nero's personality and desires has been rooted from his godly roots – from Apollo's own doings and examples.
The Great Fire of Rome, Nero's murders and assassinations, and his ability to drive followers to die for him – the gladiators, the Batavi, Meg – it has all been patterned from Apollo: his plague onto the Greek forces, his murders of Niobe's children and countless of curses to other mortal beings, and his status as a god to have demigods die for him and his petty quests.
The similarities are shocking, but painfully true; Meg is no different from the thousands of demigods that he has asked to die for him. It is only now, before Meg's scared and vulnerable form, that he truly understands what he has done for millennia.
As expected – but somehow contrary to Apollo's hopes – Meg defends Nero. She calls him his stepfather. She differentiates him from The Beast who killed her real father. She flees away from him. He understands, and he pities. His blood boils of the thought of the things Nero has done to her to make her afraid, subservient, truly dependent on the Emperor's kindness to push the Beast away, but his heart sinks when he thinks that this is the same mentality he has inflicted to his followers before. Worship me or I will show no mercy.
He has no time to ponder about it when the Colossus marches into Camp Half-Blood with the intent to destroy it, and once the whole ordeal is over, his mind drifts to Meg. He does not need to swear an oath – he has already sworn his servitude to her, and that is enough. He will save Meg from Nero – repent for everything he has done to demigods who served him until their gruesome deaths – and he will heal her.
He is not as good as his sons, Will Solace and Asclepius, who are able to heal any kind of physical injury or illness, but Apollo was the god of Healing Arts; he can heal what Will or Asclepius can't touch – the heart and soul.
v. Meg McCaffrey needs him.
He is able to kill Python (with a collective effort from both camps) and shoot down Nero from his pedestal, destroy the Emperor's army and made sure his kin stays where he belongs – the Field of Punishment. While the Greek and Roman Camps are able to pull their pieces together from the war, Meg cannot.
She is saved but far from being alright. She has lost everything – from a father to her tormentor – and the truth of the Beast and Nero inflicts as much pain as what the broken oath of Styx inflicts pain on him. He knows it will take years of healing from him to turn her broken heart and soul into whatever it was before, but Apollo fears he does not have the years to do so. His broken oath is killing him and his injuries from his battle from Python and Nero are choking him, and worst of it all, he is becoming more of Lester Papadoulous than Phoebus Apollo.
Yet, he abides to those risks because Meg needs him. Their oath is the living proof.
Meg might have released him, but he is still bonded with her. He is everything she has left; thus, she is not willing to let him go – to end his servitude to her. He is not willing as her to let her go; he cannot end his trials without healing Meg to her finest. He knows it will not be an easy task and will possibly become his hardest trial, but he is willing to go through it, just so he can see this ragamuffin of a demigod who has become his daughter be free from beings like him.
Or maybe it's because for once he wants someone who can change, someone who lives in the fear of death and time, someone who can deteriorate and perish, just so he won't have any more regrets, anything to repent.
Exactly eight years has passed since the day he met Meg, and he has not seen or heard from Olympus ever since.
Meg is now 20 years old (He is 24, but he knows that's not his real age). She is getting better, slowly and surely, and the trauma of whatever she has endured seems to be fading (He is dying – it hurts when he breathes and Nico looks at him with a quiet remorse). But, that is only because he is with her for those eight years, and in those eight years he has become her father, her brother and her closest friend (in those eight years, he has forgotten what reason his father put him into the mortal realm for, what his sister looks like, and who his closest friend in the Olympian family).
Their oath remains strong and firm, and no party is willing to break it.
It's winter and Camp Half-Blood is strangely cold despite the ability of its protective barries. He finds it hard to breathe, but opts to stay outside in the cold because Meg is climbing the lava wall and he's watching her just in case she does something stupid (again, and again, and again. She does not give him reasons to relax, because she is afraid it will break their oath). He spots a fox in the distance, watching him watch Meg. Strange. Animals should be let astray by the protective barriers of camp. But, he has no time to dwell on such things.
As Lester Papadopoulous, he has no time to flirt, and make flings and children on the way. He spends his time teaching children at camp, taking care of Meg (and makes sure her self-harming tendencies are kept on a leash), and taking appropriate medicines to alleviate his pain. He finds it hard to breathe sometimes, especially in the cold weather, but he is doing okay for a dying man. At least, in this form – as Lester Papadopoulous – he has no regrets and no things to repent, someone who truly needs him – Meg and his remaining children – is being served by his utmost ability and sun breaks at every dawn even if he's not pulling his chariot in the sky.
Odd. How this fragile and delicate mortal with a perishable body and a scent so attractive to monsters make Lester Papadoulous feel more of a god that he was as Phoebus Apollo.
The fox is shot and it gives out a pained cry, while Meg, in her distracted state, slips and falls.
He makes haste and hurriedly comes to Meg's aid because she needs him.
Once Meg is okay – the snow has caught her fall, thank goodness – Lester looks back and sees the fox already gone. But, its golden blood shines under the dim sunlight, like the golden rays that a god named Phoebus Apollo once had.
Author's Notes: Yayyy I hoped you liked it. It was hard tying up the theme to the definition of Nihilarian. I wanted to portray Apollo being very considerate and responsible for once, but with the wrong things. So he becomes a Nihilarian because when he should be back to Olympus and applying the lessons he learned as a mortal in his job as a god, he stays and takes care of Meg.
I also tried putting a dash of amnesiac!Apollo in there. I believe that Apollo's teacup of a mortal brain is not suited to handle his million years worth of memories, so the longer he stays mortal, the more memories he forgets (like what Artermis REALLY looked like, not her human form but her godly form), what were the things that he and Hermes shared in between (I personally believed they're the closest Olympians after Apollo/Artemis), and many other memories that transpired from his childhood as a god and in between (those are the hardest accounts to search; thus, Apollo doesn't have anything to jostle his memory of those).
Other than that, I made Apollo dying from his oath because there's also a hint that Apollo might die; I refuse to believe that magic will happen and Apollo will be suddenly relieved of his broken oath. After taking responsibility of his disasters for once, that would ruin his character development. Let the guy have his consequence.