I understand that I have not updated many of my stories for absolutely ages, but unfortunately, I've been dealing with a few problems, including homework, a crashed computer and multiple plot bunnies. This is one of them. Anyway, I won't burden you with the info, so just keep reading. Enjoy!
The sun shone with a vigor not felt by the most hard-working Greek demigod. There was not a single cloud in the sky, the opposite of their feelings. The wind blew soft and soothing, but it had no effect whatsoever on the children of the gods. In short, the weather was perfect, but the Campers' mood was not.
Jason stood at the porch of the Big House, staring towards the sea stretching out before him. His thoughts revolved around the Argo II, which was completed, but had yet another malfunction to deal with.
Jason may not have known the missing son of Poseidon, nor did he claim himself to be perfect. He was not deaf. He could hear the murmurs of Percy Jackson's disappearance. He was not blind. He could see the looks of deep hatred thrown in his direction. He was not heartless. He could feel the deep wounds in the Campers' hearts. He wasn't stupid; he knew that it was because of him.
Jason had been part of a forced exchange program, as had the elusive Percy Jackson. As far as their sources said, he was at Camp Jupiter, the Roman counterpart of Camp Half-Blood.
Jason was actually, quite frankly, extremely surprised. The Greeks had him, Jason, and Annabeth as the leaders, yet Jason got the feeling that the Greeks detested him. Why, you may ask?
There's only one reason for that, as Jason realized this fine day, standing on the porch of the Big House. The one reason why he still got dirty looks from the Campers, why Annabeth still refused to function properly with Jason around, why Greeks and Romans differed from each other so much.
The reason was that the Greeks had love and what came with it, but the Romans didn't. The Greeks had had Percy since he was twelve, and had protected them with his life. He'd gone on so many quests to save the Camp, listened to their problems with no hesitation whatsoever, and more often than not, solved it and granted them their deserved happiness. He had earned their respect and love.
Percy had been there with them, picking them up when they fell, acting like a big brother even to the ones he had never properly talked to. He had always kept his cabin door open for those who wanted help. The Camp accepted him leader only for this reason. They loved Percy dearly, because he had been there when they needed him.
Romans, on the other hand, had only accepted Jason as a leader, someone to be looked up to, someone to be envied, and someone who protected them or died trying. If Percy ever died, Jason was sure that the whole Camp Half-Blood would go into mourning. But the Romans would be indifferent to Jason's death.
He would never be accepted by the Greek Camp because he was the reason that they had lost their beloved Percy, their protector, their brother, all because of Jason. The Romans would promote anybody competent to the praetor position if they would have two leaders who would protect their domain. Greeks would appreciate Jason's efforts to protect them, but in their hearts, Percy was their only leader, the only one to protect them forever. Jason was just temporary.
The Romans would have accepted Percy as their leader already, because he had all the qualities to make him one.
The Greeks had one thing which the Romans could never wish to have. It was love and loyalty between each other.
Sorry if this thing made no sense whatsoever, because I just didn't know how to translate my idea into a story. Anyway, thanks for reading!
Yours truly,
Stella