So I wanted some Siluke but I wanted some Gwico so by suggestion of Blue, I'm now making a big pot of spicy gumbo.
Just kidding.
I'm just sticking them all together in a fic.
How?
I don't know. I'm writing this, I'm posting this.
That's the way I work. (Not a very good method, I know.)
I also wrote a poem. It was going to be a nice poem about, you know, fire and stuff and then I killed it. Seriously. It was going great, but then second verse, first word is blood. -.-
I'm so angsty these days. .-.
I'll share it with you at the bottom...if you're lucky.
Silena opened her hand. In her palm was a silver bracelet with a scythe charm, the mark of Kronos..."Before...before I liked Charlie, Luke was nice to me. He was so...charming. Handsome. Later, I wanted to stop helping him, but he threatened to tell. He promised...he promised I was saving lives. Fewer people would get hurt. He told me he wouldn't hurt...Charlie. He lied to me."
~Silena, the Last Olympian, pg 296-297.
Thirteen-year old Silena Beauregard sat on the beach. The young daughter of Aphrodite stared at the sea. She watched the waves crash, boom, boom, and the clouds drifted in like fog.
"Beautiful," she whispered, and her black hair turned dirty blonde like sand, while her eyes changed to sea green to match her surroundings.
"Just like you," someone said, and she whirled around to spot Luke.
A faint blush appeared on her cheeks.
"May I?" he asked.
Silena nodded and patted the sand next to her. He sat down, and her eyes traced the hard lines of his face. She didn't trust herself to speak.
"Can I ask you something?" he asked her.
Her inner Aphrodite woke up and screamed, Datedatedatedate. She thought back, Calmcalmcalmcalmcalm.
"Yes?" she asked. Her voice trembled faintly.
"I need you to do me a favor," he smiled, and she stared at him.
She nodded.
"Take this," he whispered, "and don't tell anyone."
Something cold is pressed into her hand. She looked down at a silver scythe bracelet, and shivers ran up her spine.
She nodded again.
"All you need to do, is you should know things."
"Know things?" her voice sounded raspy.
"That's all. The gods-" he winced, but flashed her another smile. Her insides melted.
"And tell me. No one will get hurt."
"Okay," she whispered.
He got up and left.
He stands in shadows. Gwen stands on the hill, and he watches from afar. The green dress billows in the wind, and her brown hair lifts.
He smells flowers.
There are some in her hair, too.
She twirls, dancing to a rhythm of her own.
They had been, once upon a time.
Had been; not anymore.
He'd let her go, because he knew she was too... too Light for him, for his Dark.
She deserved someone else, someone more like her, not a broken boy with a broken past and a lonely road. When they'd been together, he'd wondered if his father felt like this with Persephone; love, but crushing, utter guilt of sharing the darkness. Because they could share nothing else.
But he still watches her.
Charlie-she called him Charlie because he reminded her of a boy named Charlie, so when she tried saying Charles, it ended up with Charlie.
So she'd called him Charlie.
It'd been a year since she started 'knowing things.'
She regretted it.
She had also fell in love with Charlie, when they were friends, and she loved him because he didn't care about her Aphrodite-ness. He cared about her.
She was in love with him.
Mother, she pleaded, help.
He sighs and falls back, letting the shadows take him.
He isn't surprised when he lands on Cabin Three's porch. His cousin is a good friend.
"Hey, Nico. 'Sup?" Percy says as he walks out the door.
"Thalia's dad," he mutters.
"What's going-" Understanding dawns on his face. "Her."
"Yeah," he says. "Her."
He likes that his cousin never says,"It's okay," because he knows it's a lie.
They sit on the porch in silence.
She kissed him at the fireworks.
And when there's exploding lights and her own self feeling like it lit up, she feels nothing but love.
She skipped away after, and took out the bracelet.
Luke appeared, and she trembled.
"I can't do this anymore, Luke," she said.
"Hey, come on, Silena," he said, smiling.
"It won't hurt anyone."
"But-"
"Silena, I promise. I promise you that you're saving lives. You're helping your family, Silena. "
"Wait."
"Yes?" The response came, guarded.
She pointed to Charlie.
"Promise me," she hissed, "Promise me he won't get hurt."
Luke looked at her.
"I promise," he whispered.
She felt uneasy.
He walks through the field.
Everything reminds him of her. Every. Single. Thing.
Sunlights makes the blades of grass glint. He sees a girl, running through them, and he chases her. They are both laughing.
He lunges, and they fall into a rolling, bowling mess of tangled limbs.
Love explodes through him, and he breathed it in. This love was different.
Her eyes shine as they look at him. There's a smile on both their faces, and her lips brush his oh-so-gently.
She pulls back and whispers, "I love you."
"I love you," He replies.
Gwen gets up and holds her hand out for him.
His own pale fingers clasp nothing but air.
She wasn't there.
She hated it.
She hated it, hated him, him and his stupid thoughts and ideas and...
A dry sob escaped her throat.
She shoved one fist in her mouth, stifling the sound, and bit down. She felt pain, but that was good, because she deserved it.
Her whole body trembled.
She looked around. Her siblings were at archery for the moment. And then she didn't know what she was doing. She just did it. She grabbed things and flung them on the floor. Glass shattered. Perfume wafted through the air. She threw every single cosmetic that belonged to her against the tiled floor. She punched the mirror, and blood seeped down her knuckles. She ripped her Gucci bags, her Vera Bradleys, her Victoria Secrets' belongings, her designer clothes, her dresses, all of it.
She stood in the mess and cried.
He dreams of her.
He hasn't quite accepted it yet, he guesses, and a bitter laugh escapes his lips.
He hasn't quite accepted the fact that he let Gwen go.
He let Gwen go. Not the other way around.
But it tears his insides to pieces, and he slumps in his room and screams.
There is a wet spot in his pillow where he has cried, but he doesn't care.
People alway said, If you love them, let them go. If they love you, they will come back.
But she won't.
She won't come back to him.
Silena saw nothing.
Nothing but black and grey and white.
Tears ran down her cheeks and dripped onto the cold floor.
Clarisse knew how she felt. Clarisse left her alone.
She was grateful for that.
At first, she'd cursed Percy.
But she remembered the sadness on his long, drawn face. She saw the grief embedded on the lines, saw his shoulders pressed down with the burden of the prophecy.
So she didn't hate him.
She respected him, really, but she wanted to cry and cry.
There was a hole in her chest.
She wanted to die.
He avoids Camp Jupiter as much as possible.
Too many painful memories.
He doesn't feel at all brave; he feels like a coward.
But he can't help it.
One last time, he promises himself. One last time.
And he shadow travels to go see her.
The stars glitter like Hazel's diamonds, and for a second he stops to stare. They whisper, Hither, hither, traveler.
He sits down on the free space on her bed. For once, he lets the love reign, and he breathes in her sweet scent and holds her head to his chest.
And then she screamed.
"Nico!" she called, "Nico."
He hugs her tighter, trapping her arms.
"Shh," he whispers, "I'm right here."
She shakes, and Nico's heart squeezes.
"Don't go!" she cries out.
Her arms flail out. She's dreaming about him.
"I let you go," he murmurs in her ear.
His lips touch her forehead.
"Now you have to let me go."
He's never done anything as hard as leaving.
Pain. Gut-wrenching, hot, searing pain.
She saw nothing but red dots clouding her vision, but she could hear Clarisse, Annabeth, and Percy.
And then she blinked.
Three faces looked at the dying face of Silena Beauregard.
He writes her name, over and over.
Gwen. Gwen. Gwen. Gwen.
He drops the paper into the fire.
"See...Charlie," she whispered.
Her hand felt the scorched earth.
She watched calmly as Thanatos came to her.
"Charlie?" she asked.
Death looked at her. He is beautiful, beautiful but cursed.
There was something on his face, the way he looked at her. He looked as if deep in thought about her question.
He took her hand and said, "He's been waiting."
He watches the paper burn.
Nico watches the fire, watches as it destroys whatever connection they had.
"This war is done," he says.
Undone, he thinks.
Nico di Angelo breathes in the burnt wind.
Free, they are.
Fin.
Did you like it?
Review!
and also, I'll share my poem because I have a death wish. (Go Tris!)
Here goes nothing.
Fire rages, on and on,
forever taking its toll.
Blood on the floor,
everything gone.
They dropped
Like snow.
Like ice.
Nothing left
but
scorched earth
burnt wind
blackened sky.
And there you have it.
Mmmm... gummy worms. Delicious!
Number one rule to writing.
Eat n' Type. Not Drink n' Drive.
Achieving Elysium