Thy Armor
Reyna groaned. "No, no, no. You buckle the strap over, not under!" she cried. "I still don't see how, after three years of training, you still can't put on your armor right! I've been here for three weeks!" She huffed and adjusted the strap.
Jason rolled his eyes. "Calm down, Allard. At this rate, you're going to blow up the arena before I get a chance to actually fight in it." Reyna hit him. He just sighed and led her over to the small bench. They perched on it, Reyna's legs hitting the back wall. He'd never really actually noticed before how beautiful she was.
She looked vulnerable in that one moment, her lips pulled tight, looking at the floor. He put a hand on her shoulder.
"I'll come out alive... I think." She rolled her eyes.
"Thanks for the vote of confidence," she shot back.
"Hey, you did my armor. That's gotta count for something, right?" She stood up, dragging him to the entrance. It was time for what everyone had dubbed 'Gladiator,' an almost safe Roman competition where you fought for glory. The rails rolled up.
Reyna reached over and tightened something. Her fingers brushed his skin, and then he knew he would win. For her. He would do it for her. She pushed him out into the cheering crowds. The gate started clanking back down again, and Jason looked back from the coliseum to her. She smiled.
"You've got the armor down, Grace. Let's see if you've got the fighting down, too."
It was twelve o'clock, right after training, and Jason felt as if a horde of monsters in wearing soccer shoes-cleats-had tried to pass the ball and ended up kicking him instead. He was hot, tired, and beat up, looking forward to lunch. So no one could blame him for yelling in frustration when a sentry interrupted lunch yelling that there were monsters outside their defenses.
He threw down the rest of his cheeseburger and followed the complaining Fifth Cohort to the armory to get what little armor they could get. Sure, they could fight without the armor, but it was a much better defense, and the archers could hold back monsters until backup got there.
Their centurions, Hedi (seriously, who named their kid Hedi? Though she was a great person.) and John stood together, handing out various things, like helmets and breastplates. Why weren't they being fully decked out in armor?
He voiced his question when he got to them, and Hedi yelled over the loud noise. "There's no time to pull on breastplates and thigh guards and leather plates and metal chain, so just take this and go!" So he grabbed the breastplate and helmet and went. In the mass of soldiers running for the borders, there was no sign of Reyna. He looked around for her, heading towards the west side of the boundaries. Suddenly Reyna was next to him.
"Missed a spot," she said, reaching to pull together a loose plate in his armor he hadn't noticed. "Good luck, Grace."
"Rey, can you come here a sec?" Jason called. Reyna set down the katana (he still didn't know where it had came from) and walked over, her expression sour.
"What?" she snapped. Jason held up his hands.
"Touchy, are we?"
"Make it quick, Jace. The katana is mine!" she yelled at a poor kid who had wandered over towards her weapon. He winced and scratched the back of his neck sheepishly.
"Can you get the back for me?" He turned around to show her his hanging armor. She cracked a smile, and soon enough he felt the familiar sensation of her feather light fingers flying over his back. Then, she stood in front of him, scrutinizing him, making sure everything was in place. She nodded.
"You're clear. Free to go," she said, gesturing to the practicing area. "Octavian's waiting for you. He looks like someone dumped tomato sauce all over his face." He turned to look. Octavian did indeed look like someone had smeared tomato sauce over his face. Jason wasn't worried. Octavian wasn't much of a sparring partner.
He clapped her on the back. "Thanks. I'll have fun beating him up." Reyna narrowed her eyes at him. He couldn't really tell if she was judging him or if she was mocking him. Probably both, he concluded.
"You better beat him up, Grace. You better."
Bright lights. All Jason could really see was white. Something burned, fire licking at his ribs as he tried to breathe. A stabbing pain. The lights flickered, and Jason could see the grass, but it was a strange color. It was still green, yes, but red seemed to cover each blade like a beautiful, deadly sin.
An anger, a bubbling, rising anger. Blood. It was blood.
Then everything was white again, blurring too fast. OhgodsIcan'tbreatheIcan'tbreathe, and he gasped for air, trying to fill his lungs with the crisp feeling. His side burned, and something warm and wet trickled over his fingers, over his side, and muted voices shuffled around him.
Then a girl's voice. Who was she?
"The idiot didn't put on his armor right." A bitter laugh. "He never did."
"No," a new voice agreed sadly. "He never did." Reyna. The name came to him faster than a bolt of lightning. Reyna.
"Grace, you wake up, I'm going to kick your podex. You don't wake up, I'll go to the Underworld to kick your podex. You aren't getting out of this so easily. 'Cause I care for you. I really, really do."
"Reyna!" he cried. "Reyna!" Kick. Dodge. Stab. Kick. Dodge. Stab. Wave after wave of monsters poured into the camp. He pulled his sword out of a monster and spat on the ground. Reyna. Where was she?
"Reyna!" he called again. Truth be told, he didn't know if he could get out of this. And before he left the battlefield, he knew he had to tell her. Because they could die at the hands of bloodthirsty monsters and vengeful Titans.
"Here!" a distance voice called. "Here!" He spun around, heart hammering in his throat, as something collided into him. He hugged by instinct, the small, bloody mass of hair and armor and tears half-sobbing into his shirt. Then she pulled back.
"They're dead," she said in a hollow voice. "We can't let Rome fall. Not now." Dead. He wondered then if that was what it felt like to be a broken vase, thrown against the floor into tiny bits and pieces.
"Jason!" Reyna shook him. "We have to fight." He nodded numbly and began to pull her up the steep slops, past his friends, his family, leaving behind his home. The two ran together, up and up, higher and higher. Each step shot pain up to his brain, but he didn't know if he was just hurting inside or outside or both. It felt like both.
"There," he whispered. Reyna pulled him behind a breaking column and they watch Krios laugh.
"You fight, I distract," she whispered.
"What? Reyna, you-" She kissed him. His heart began to pound, gluing itself back together as she kissed him. Then, she let go and looked at him, a small smile on her face.
"Watch my back. It'd be nice to do that again."
"You don't have armor," he stated, quietly. It was true. Reyna only had a t-shirt and jeans on, her armor completely shredded. She pressed her lips to his again.
"You are my armor, Grace. And for once, I don't have anything I want to change."
Where did this come from? Originally, this was supposed to be an AU Zoe/Percy fic because I wanted to explore the pairing, but then I erased it and turned it into Percy Jackson Ship Weeks.
Go figure.
Check out my other stories/ship weeks!
Achieving Elysium
