Since today's chapter of Interference is rather short and calm, I've decided to also post the most intense one-shot that I had hiding in the depths of my folder organization system.
Warning: this story is fairly long.
This has been a personal headcannon for me for a while now, so as hard as this story was to write, I'm glad I'm finally getting this out and into the world.
Disclaimer: I do not own Percy Jackson and the Olympians. Nor do I own the final line in bold at the bottom.
Yposchesi
1945
"Promise," Mary said, gripping Joe's hands tightly.
"You know I would never do anything to hurt you," Joe replied, but Mary shook her head.
"I need to here you say it," she told him. "Please."
She trembled violently, and Joe wondered what was so important to her.
In the background, the empty forge seemed almost eerie. Everyone at camp was out in the hill, managing and repairing defenses. Only Joe and Mary remained, and only because Mary said she had something important to give him.
"Alright," Joe decided. "I promise. Now what was so important?"
"It's back here," Mary said, leading Joe into the back of the forge.
Even trembling and scared, Mary looked beautiful. Her raven black hair was up in something between a rat's nest and bun, and her skin, clothes, and armor was smeared with oil, but to Joe that only brought out her sky blue eyes.
It was weird for Mary, as a daughter of Zeus, to want to meet Joe in the forgery, even as much as she had helped her stepbrother and his cabin mates out. Joe wondered if maybe this super-important thing she wanted to show him used to be her stepbrother's - he, as head of the Hephaestus cabin and boyfriend to the only child of Hecate at camp, tended to make dangerous things. And ever since he died last week, his inventions were even more dangerous.
Joe wouldn't be surprised if Mary showed him a murderous dragon, or an advanced war plane. Ever since his brother had started advocating for a separate military branch for air support, Joe had been interested in planes.
So he was a little surprised when Mary gave him a dagger.
"He called it Ypóschesi," Mary told him.
"Promise," Joe translated. He ran his fingers along the blade and hilt - definitely Mary's stepbrother's craftsmanship.
"Yes," Mary confirmed. "It wasn't an official name, but he called it that because he promised... he promised that as long as I had it, nothing could ever harm me."
"Then you should keep it," Joe said. "With everything's that's happening. Especially with your sixteenth birthday coming up."
"I can handle that," Mary argued. "I can handle the war, and the stupid prophecy, no problem. But I just can't handle the thought that something might happen to you - that I might lose you. And this knife is so important to me, and you promised."
"Alright," Joe agreed. "For you. But you have to know that I don't want anything happening to you either."
"I know."
1949
Henry looked around, wide-eyed, as he followed his tour guide around camp.
It had been hard, coming all the way from Seattle to New York City, mostly unarmed, but he had managed. And now he was finally here.
His tour guide - and brother, according to Chiron, but Henry didn't know how he could be related to someone so commanding - was explaining how camp wasn't as impressive as it usually was, what with the war just having ended, but it looked impressive enough to Henry.
"And here's the cabins," the tour guide - John? Joe? - said. "This is our cabin, Athena, and where you'll be staying."
"Here?" Henry asked, staring up at the large, gray building. Not for the first time since leaving his family's cabin in Washington, he felt intimidated.
Joe smiled sympathetically. He was at least a foot taller than Henry, with military posture and haircut, but when he looked down at the younger boy, he looked friendly.
And very sad...
"Do you have a weapon?" Joe asked. Henry shook his head.
"I had a dagger for a while, but I lost it in Indiana," Henry explained.
"You like daggers?" Joe asked. Henry nodded - it was the only weapon he had ever used, and being only nine years old he doubted he could lift a sword. "Well, then, how about I give you this one?"
Joe pulled a dagger from his belt and leaned down to give it to Henry.
"Now, this dagger is very special," Joe explained. "It's magic, supposedly. It will protect its owner. Not only that, but it's last owner was very special - one of the smartest and bravest fighters camp's ever known."
"What happened to him?" Henry asked.
"She died recently," Joe replied, his voice cracking. "But as much as I'd like to keep it, I think she'd want you to have it. But you have to promise me you'll take care of it."
"I will."
1956
"Oh, come on Henry," Jessica whined, pushing a piece of blonde hair out of her face. "You're being ridiculous."
"I'm being cautious," Henry replied, crossing his arms. Even when being a stubborn idiot, Henry looked handsome - long, blonde hair that always fell in his gray eyes and curled whenever it got wet, a cute button nose that he hated, and massive biceps that did not in any way make Jessica's crush on him superficial.
"Is there a difference?" Jessica asked, crossing her arms in response. Cute or not, Henry was not going to win this argument. As stubborn as children of Athena were, children of Nike were always worst (and it didn't help that she had to live with Hermes' children either).
"I'm telling you, the quest is suicide," Henry repeated. "Just please, reconsider."
"You don't think I can handle myself?"
"You're impossible." Henry sighed, and Jessica smiled in victory. "Just promise me one thing."
"What?"
"That you'll be careful."
Jessica snorted. "When am I not?"
"All the time," Henry replied.
He had a point.
"Fine. I'll promise that I'll be careful, and that I'll come back and make your life difficult."
Henry grinned. "I'll be counting on it. And one more thing."
"That was the one more thing." Jessica thought she had a good point, but Henry ignored her. To Jessica's surprise, he unsheathed a dagger - the one he had always had on him.
"Take this." Henry said, holding the dagger out. "It's supposed to protect its owner."
Jessica raised an eyebrow. "All weapons do that."
"I mean, its special. Please, just take it." Henry lifted the dagger up, giving Jessica his puppy-dog eyes.
With a sigh, Jessica took the dagger. "Fine. But you need to stop stressing - I will be fine."
"I know," Henry replied. "But I just can't stand the thought of losing you."
Jessica squeezed his hands. "And you won't."
1958
"I don't understand," Lily said, her feet banging against the side of the Jessica's bunk. "Why don't we have our own cabin?"
"Because," Jessica replied. "There's not enough of us for us to have our own cabin. The two of us don't take up that much room now, do we?"
Lily frowned, obviously not happy with that answer. "But there's several empty cabins."
"Well..." Jessica started, trying to find a good answer.
Even after only knowing her for a day, she knew her little sister would not give up until she had a satisfactory answer. She was, after all, a daughter of Nike, but she had Jessica frustrated beyond belief.
Lily didn't look like much. With beautiful auburn hair and crystal blue eyes, she looked like she belonged in the Aphrodite cabin, even when dressed in active clothes. She was thirteen, but was the size of a ten year old, and she smiled more than she glared.
But she was so insistent.
"You want to know the real reason?" Jessica asked, leaning in towards Lily. Lily nodded eagerly. "I think they're scared of us."
"Really?" Lily replied, eyes lighting up like a bonfire.
"Yes," Jessica said. "And they think that if we had our own cabin, our own space to plan, we'd take over camp. Which is true, of course." Even if it wasn't the real reason.
Lily frowned. "Oh, well I guess that makes sense. So, when do I get my own weapon?"
Did this girl have a book of hard questions (and was it provided by Henry)? After an accident involving two poodle-sized bronze dragons, triplet children of Hephaestus, and a prank by Jessica's cabin mates, there was a concerning lack of weapons at camp. There was no chance a daughter of a minor goddess was going to get her hands on one, unless...
"Actually," Jessica said. "I have one here for you. But you have to promise not to lose it, okay?"
Lily muttered something under her breath. During her trip from Maine (seriously? Who lives in Maine?) to New York, she had destroyed, lost, and otherwise made useless a total of twenty six weapons, and she had a habit of cursing whoever brought it up.
"What's so special about it anyways?" Lily muttered.
"It's magic," Jessica said. "It protects its owner. But you have to take care of it, okay? It was a gift from someone very special."
"I promise I'll take care of it," Lily replied. "But it's not like I purposely destroy things."
1963
"Why do you carry a dagger around?"
The question caught Lily off guard, judging from how fast she spun around.
"What?" She demanded.
Colleen debated keeping her mouth shut, but curiosity won her over. "Why do you carry a dagger around?"
"Why wouldn't I?" Lily asked. She looked murderous, as if Colleen had just insulted her grandmother. Colleen gulped, but didn't back down.
"Because you're so good at archery," Colleen answered. "One of the best, even."
Archery was the reason Colleen and Lily knew each other so well, anyways. Colleen wasn't very violent, liked flowers and skirts, and spent her free time playing on the piano her brother had snuck in. Lily, on the other hand, was about as violent as someone could get, despised anything feminine, despite being a girl herself, and didn't do much else besides train and fight. But they were the best archers at camp, so they somehow became friends.
"Oh," Lily said. "Right. The dagger was a gift from my sister."
"You have a sister?" Colleen asked. As far as she knew, there wasn't any other children of Nike at camp, and the blade was celestial bronze, so it wasn't like a mortal sister could have given it to her.
"I did," Lily replied. "She's - she's gone."
"Oh," Colleen said. "Sorry."
Lily smiled. "No, it's okay. I don't mind talking about her. I would hate for her to be forgotten."
"What happened to her?" Colleen asked.
"She won a game she shouldn't have had, and was murdered for the prize. It was a stupid, mortal way to die." Lily spit the last sentence out.
"There are worse ways to die," Colleen replied. "My mother died because her hair got stuck in a machine. Broke her neck. Probably didn't even realize it was coming until she was dead."
Colleen and Lily lapsed into awkward silence, with the exception of the thunk of arrows hitting the target (almost all bullseyes). When their quivers ran out, they walked down the range in silence.
When they reached the targets, Lily decided to break the silence. "Why all the sudden questions?"
Colleen shrugged. "I don't know. I guess I'm feeling a little underprepared for the quest tomorrow."
"That's stupid," Lily declared. "Chiron wouldn't let you go on the quest if he didn't think you were ready."
"I know." Colleen yanked hard on one of her arrows, almost taking the paper target with her. "But if we get attacked, and it's too close of a range, I'm useless..."
"You can always punch it." Lily wiped the fuzzy target pieces off of her arrows and slid them back into her quiver.
Colleen shook her head. "Most monster have pretty thick skin."
"Then kick it," Lily suggested. "You wear heels, right?"
"Not on quests," Colleen replied.
As Lily and Colleen walked back to the shooting line, Colleen checked her watch. "I need to be going. I'm getting up bright and early tomorrow."
"I thought children of Apollo natural got up at dawn," Lily observed.
Colleen smiled. "It's winter. We'll be in another state before dawn."
Lily laughed her loud, barely laughed that ruined her natural beauty, and Colleen couldn't help but chuckle.
"You know," Lily said. "You could have my knife, if you want."
"Really?" Colleen asked. "But it was your sister's, don't you want to keep it?"
"No, not really," Lily admitted. "A weapon is kind of wasted if it just stays on my belt all the time. At least, if I give it to you, it might get some use." Lily passed the weapon to Colleen.
"Thanks," Colleen said.
"And Coll?" Lily asked.
"Yes?"
"What I said about Jessica, about my sister... no one at camp knows who she is anymore, and I meant it when I said I didn't want her forgotten. But I'm leaving this fall and you still have a couple years left..."
"I won't let her be forgotten. I promise."
1965
Elizabeth laughed as the girl, Colleen, tripped and fell over her root and her bow went flying.
Being only twelve years old and a daughter of Demeter, being any help at all during capture-the-flag was a delight, and especially taking down a counselor like Colleen...
Apparently, she laughed a little too loud, because Colleen looked her way as she propped herself up on her elbows. Shoot. Elizabeth was unarmed and in enemy territory, and if Colleen chose to chase her, or retrieved her bow, Elizabeth was dead meat. So she did the smart thing and ran in the other direction.
Colleen was fast and not very silent, and it wasn't long before Elizabeth heard the older girl tearing after her. The string of her bow hummed, and Elizabeth barely ducked away from an arrow. The arrow hit a tree instead, and splattered red paint everywhere.
Elizabeth summoned another tree root, and immediately felt faint. She didn't usually use this much power, but she forced herself to keep running. Behind her, Colleen yelped as she tripped, and cursed a very creative and unladylike string of words.
Elizabeth almost repeated the curses when she heard Colleen stand up again, and the chase resumed. Elizabeth dodged two more arrows, and the fletchings of a third hit her shoulder. She dodged a fourth arrow, but when it lodged itself in a tree, it let loose a horrible sound, and Elizabeth found herself on her knees. Colleen was standing behind her in barely a second, her black hair a mess and shirt covered in sweat marks.
"Just for the record," Colleen said between pants. "I got you with the first arrow." She pulled a knife from her belt and held it out at Elizabeth. "Now, let's go to prison, shall we? No, wait, first give me your weapons."
"I don't have any," Elizabeth replied.
"Nice try," Colleen said. "Now, your weapons."
"I don't have any," Elizabeth repeated.
"Seriously?" Colleen asked, using her left hand to wipe the sweat off of her forehead. "No one has given a fighter like you a weapon?"
"No," Elizabeth replied. Why did she have to keep repeating herself?
"Well, then, after the game how about I give this knife? It's a very good knife, and it has a little magic in it too. Would you like it?" Colleen grinned as Elizabeth rapidly nodded her head. "But first, you have to promise me something. This knife comes with a story, and you have to never let that story be forgotten. You promise you'll do that?"
"I promise!" Elizabeth replied. No one had offered her a weapon before, and the idea of a counselor giving her one - a magical one, too - excited her. "What does the magic do?"
"It protects the owner," Colleen replied.
Elizabeth frowned. "Don't all weapons do that?"
"No," Colleen answered. "Well, yeah, but this one is extra protective. If you keep this, nothing can ever harm you."
Elizabeth's eyes widen. "Really?"
"Yes, but remember, there is a promise that comes with it."
"Don't let the story be forgotten," Elizabeth remembered.
Colleen grinned. "Exactly."
1967
Hal calmly sipped tea from the porch of his mansion, waiting patiently for the demigods to show up.
Apparently, there was a karpoi infestation in Ohio that was causing a lot of problems for farmers, and Chiron had told the demigods that were going on the quest that they could borrow Hal's car.
Hal was annoyed at the assumption, even if he had said that his car was open for use by camp. Chiron should know that he didn't mean it - besides, shouldn't camp have its own vehicle by now?
Hal sighed and leaned back in his chair. He was twenty, he should be free from camp's obligations. But no, he had to give up his pride and joy - his precious car. Chiron should know how possessive children of Apollo were with vehicles - a trait directly inherited from their lovely father.
Right on time - that is, an hour late - three demigods appeared in the plaza. They looked young, not older than fourteen, but then maybe Hal was getting old. Demigods don't usually live to be twenty, anyways.
The leader of the quest was in the stereotypical position of the middle. She was the shortest and the skinniest and the least scariest - she couldn't have been taller than five feet. Her golden brown hair was pulled back into pig tail braids as if she was trying to look younger. The John Lennon glasses that were tilted on her nose didn't take the attention off of her heterochromatic eyes - one eye brown, the other green.
Hal frowned and sat up. Hadn't he had a vision about a girl with different colored eyes?
Even if he had, he shouldn't do anything about it. Apollo had drilled it in his head - don't try to change the future. He wasn't the oracle, he had no right over anyone's, even his own, future. Just shut up, and maybe write it in his diary if he had to get it out.
But those eyes were definitely familiar.
So familiar that after giving his keys over the girl - Elizabeth - he pulled her to the side to read her future.
"Give me your hands," Hal said, holding his own hands out for her to grab. She obliged.
The first thing Hal saw in his vision was evil corn. Karpoi maybe? Visions weren't always straight forward. The corn reached out, grabbing at a car - his car - as it drove down the road. Suddenly, the corn yanked the car backwards, causing it to flip over and -
Hal yanked back, causing Elizabeth to do the same.
"What did you see?" Elizabeth asked.
"Don't go," was all Hal could say.
"What, why?" Elizabeth asked. "I mean, this is a quest for my mother, if she-"
"Don't. You will die."
Elizabeth flinched. "I will?"
Hal nodded. "I-I can not tell you more. Even telling you this was a great risk. But promise me you won't go."
"I won't, don't worry." Elizabeth smiled reassuringly. "I have plenty of siblings that can handle this, I was just the most eager to get out." She moved as if to leave, but stopped. "Why was telling me such a great risk?"
"I am not supposed to divulge what I see," Hal explained. "I have no doubt angered my father already. But as much as I despise getting involve in things like this, I could not let an innocent girl die."
"Thank you, then," Elizabeth replied. "For taking that risk. Maybe I could give you something in return?"
Hal chuckled. "I'm fairly well off, if you haven't noticed."
"I'm not talking about stuff like that," Elizabeth replied. She took a knife out of her bag. "This knife is supposed to protect its owner. Maybe, maybe it will protect you."
"Thank you," Hal said, taking the knife. "And be careful."
"I will. I promise."
Ten years ago
Hal studied the boy in front of him carefully. The vision he'd seen of his future was... discerning. Could the boy - not much older than Elizabeth had been - really go on to cause so much harm?
But Luke did have a point. Hal was already cursed, already punished. He couldn't come right out and say what he saw, but maybe there was some other way to change his future.
Elizabeth's knife, maybe? It was supposed to protect the owner, but she never said from what. Not Hal's curse for sure, but maybe...
And his diary, of course. If Luke could learn from past mistakes...
Annabeth stared at the two people staring down at her. Could they be serious?
No one took her seriously. Not about the monsters, not about the spiders, not about the nightmares... but the boy promised. She could trust a promise, right?
And he was offering her a knife, a weapon. As if she was someone who could be trusted, could be taken seriously. Not an attention-hogging seven-year-old like her parents had treated her.
No, they were treating her differently. And that's what she wanted.
Family.
So she took the knife.
"Family, Luke. You promised."