I was reading fanfics on this two characters when I realized that in many of then, people asume that both were sent to this part on the Underworld, plus, in some they say that when Silena died, she knew Backendorf had been sent there because Nico told her. I realized this is practically impossible because Nico and Silena didn't meet after Charles' death. Thinking very hard on it, I also realized that Silena would have to tell the truth to Backendorf, and when the idea apperared, I simply had to write this.
Elysium
I opened my eyes and bumped into darkness. I gasped for air violently, taking one hand to my chest, pained. I wasn't sure of where I was. I didn't know what had happened, I couldn't remember anything.
And then it all came back, in a heart-beat—I was Silena Beauregard, demigod from Aphrodite's cabin. I had just been injured during the battle against Kronos. A drakon had wounded me badly, very badly to be . . . alive.
Looking around, I could see I was in front of a river. I recognized it soon, when I saw all the things that the tide carried with it—dolls, pictures, roses, college diplomas, toys, all the dreams that people let go when they died. The Styx River. The one in which Thetis had sunk her son Achilles to make him invulnerable, leaving just his tendon as a weak point, which had been the only way to kill him back to the Trojan War.
I held my breath, finally understanding. I was dead. The wound the drakon had made in my chest had killed me. It had drained out the life of my eighteen-year old body, sending me to the Underworld.
Dead. The word resonated in my head. I was dead. No more pegasus riding, no more Saturday afternoons with my father, no more summers at the Camp.
Dead.
And then something clicked in my head. I was dead. Like Charlie. I could almost feel my heart racing, though it wasn't beating anymore. I would see him again! After a week of thinking he was irreparably gone I would see him again! Again!
My smile froze. He hadn't just died. He had been killed. Murdered. And it was my fault.
My thoughts were abruptly interrupted when a boat appeared sailing through the forsaken river. It was Charon. He was here to take our souls to Hade's kingdom—The Underworld.
I boarded. Breathing heavily, though it seemed I was the only one having problems with it—I didn't need to anymore, but I kept forgetting it.
I wanted to see him. I wanted to see Charlie so, so badly it hurt, even if I wasn't supposed to feel anymore.
And then a fact made its way to my head. He was a hero. He had lived as one and had died as one. He had been one. He was going to pass eternity at the Elysium. I was a traitor. I deserved to spend eternity in Tartarus, to suffer endless pains, though my guilt and my own regrets already haunted me endlessly. Charlie's dead had been my fault. Completely mine. For trusting Luke, for not being brave enough to speak up.
I would be sent to some other place while he stayed at the Elysium. I was truly not going to see him anymore. I felt a whimper trapped in my throat, but there were no tears to shed inside of me. Not anymore. I wasn't going to see him ever again.
Just once. Please, I prayed, only once. Seeing him, I didn't ask for more—knew I didn't deserve it—not to touch him, not to talk to him. Just seeing him was enough.
"One more time" I whispered. "I know I don't deserve it, but there's something I need to tell him. It's not about me" I said. "He needs to know, he has the right to know. After that, my soul can disappear into nothing if that's my punishment. But one more time. Please."
When we arrived to the other side of the Styx I moved through the crowd of souls barely noticing them. I saw the endless rows of dead people than lined up in front of Cancerberus but I didn't feel anything. Through the whole journey I had been thinking of the fact I was going to spend eternity separated from the one I loved with every bit of me.
It was fair, I had decided. It didn't seem like that to me at the moment, but it was, in the end. I didn't deserve to see his beautiful chocolate eyes again. I didn't, I knew, though was the lowest blow life had ever delivered to me, it was fair. I was a traitor, and I had caused his death, the dead of such a wonderful man.
Most people may have thought that he was lucky to have a girlfriend like me—well, they're all wrong. I was lucky to have a boyfriend like him. In his life, I was the one that had occasioned tragedy.
In a way, I had killed him.
It was fair. But it still hurt. Guilt, regret, pain, sadness, it all burned in my chest like it had since his death had been announced to me.
I followed the line, distantly, deep in thought, without really caring about the fact that the time to face the three-headed dog and Hades himself was coming closer, oblivious to the many now-dead faces around me, many of them even younger than myself, some not older than toddlers. I didn't care about anything anymore, I couldn't bring myself to. Not anymore.
A Fury came to me and told me that since I was a demigod I had the right to jump the lines and see Hades immediately.
Hades. We're kind of cousins, but as it happens with the whole Olympic family, we don't just 'don't keep in touch', but most of the time we just don't know or don't care about the others.
Specially gods. They are immortal, which makes them think that everything is everlasting. But we, demigods, are part mortal, we are not undying. And our frailty often makes them laugh with taunt. We are just a sigh in their eternal lives.
I entered a separated room. It had a throne in middle in which the Lord of the Dead was sitting, with a black tunic in which the faces of suffering souls kept moving and transforming. He turned to look at me, seeming bored.
He smiled at me sarcastically. "So you're Silena Beuregard, right? From Demeter's?" He asked, coldly.
"From Aphrodite's" I corrected.
"Yeah, whatever." He said, and for a moment he almost reminded me of Dionysius, which I found annoying. I had just died, couldn't he be a little nicer? Just a bit?
"Let's do this fast, get it?" He told me bluntly. "Since you showed courage and bravery through your life, I've decided that you are to spend eternity in the Elysium." He said calmly, almost as if talking about the weather. Oh, right, he talks to dead everyday.
I felt my jaw drop in surprise. I was shocked and puzzled. Had I been alive, the air would have been taken out from my lungs.
"B-but I-" I started stuttering, I hate when I do that. It doesn't happen very often, but when I get nervous or I am confused, I do. "I can't!" I finally said, almost in a whisper.
"You can" Hades said, impatiently "And you will because that's my verdict and it's final. Now, if you could move on, I still have a lot of dead to deal with."
A hell-hound that hadn't been there seconds ago suddenly materialized and barked at me. Surprisingly, I wasn't afraid. He neared me, but not in a threatening way, he approached keeping his ears down, as if saying 'Sorry, but it's my job' and he pushed me out from the room, leading me to a gate that headed to beautiful garden before disappearing into the shadows again.
There were people from all the past ages, men and women gathered around, talking, training surrounded by tall, beaming trees that were hunched under the weight of their fruit. Beautiful fountains representing pegasus, dryads, nymphs, and other mythological creatures.
The Elysium.
I couldn't be at the Elysium. I was a traitor, a spy, a liar, a killer—not a hero. I should go to the Tartarus and spend eternity there, not to the Elysium.
But, that had been my verdict. I couldn't opine or argue about it with the Lord of the Dead. Still, I couldn't help but feel that I was usurping it.
I walked inside slowly, almost shyly. I expected the heroes that surrounded me to suddenly notice that I shouldn't be there and to get expelled from this beautiful place.
It didn't happen, though. Nobody even turned around to acknowledge my prescience. Nobody called me 'Traitor!' or 'Liar!'
Maybe I just expected them to because I felt guilty. And I really was a traitor and a liar.
And then I saw him. His back was turned to me and he was talking to someone that seemed suspiciously similar to Hercules. I couldn't breathe for a moment—until I realized I didn't need to.
He was there. Just three meters away from me. I was seeing him again!
A part of me wanted to run straight to him and embrace him and see those beautiful brown eyes he had and hear his voice again.
The other one wanted to turn away and hide forever, for him not to find me again.
I didn't deserve to look at him, I thought. Not after what had happened.
I had seen him. My wish had come true. 'Just seeing him once more' I had begged. And here it was—I'd seen him. Now, as promised, I should leave. But I couldn't. My body wasn't obeying me. I stood there, paralyzed. Completely unable to move.
And then, whether to my good or bad luck I'm not sure, he started to turn around, slowly. I felt the fear build up inside me, the fear and the shame, but also, deeper, the throbbing and pure love I felt towards him, my Charlie, that opaqued everything else.
Our eyes meet, dodging the three-meter distance between us. I realized I was holding my breath.
And his eyes sparkled, recognizing me. I broke the eye contact by turning to look at the floor. I felt myself die . . . again.
Charlie said something to Hercules and then started to walk straight to me. I still couldn't move.
In less than ten seconds he was in front of me beaming.
"Silena?" He said, smiling casually. "What are you doing here? Well, that's stupid. How did you get here?" He corrected, smiling at me openly.
"A-a drakon killed me." I muttered rapidly, my eyes glued to the floor. I heard him sigh heavily.
"You know" he said "it sounds horrible, but I'm glad to see you" he placed his right hand over my shoulder. I lifted my eyes to meet his. Those beautiful dark eyes that looked at me lovingly . . . and trustingly. The tears that I had thought I would never be able to cry and that had been building up behind my eyes since the moment I had seen him were now falling down, silently.
I began to cry, hugging myself. I was so scared now that I had him so close. He didn't know I had betrayed his trust. He didn't know.
"Don't cry, sweetheart" he said gently. "You're gonna be fine. You'll see."
Violent, dry sobs began to climb up my throat and out of my mouth, though I fought to keep them inside, failing miserably.
"You d-don't understand, Ch-Charlie" I started, trying to find my voice in my throat, though it sounded strangled and squeaky. I-I . . ."
He cut me by pulling me into his strong arms, hugging me tightly to his chest. As if my own stuttering wasn't enough already, I was left with no speak.
Unconsciously I started looking for the even beating of his heart. I couldn't find it. Of course I couldn't find it. He was dead. There was no beating any more. That only made me cry harder and more desperately.
Five minutes when on before I could have a hold on myself again; when I finally stopped sobbing violently, Charlie stepped back, trying to catch a glimpse of my blue eyes, but still, I wouldn't meet his gaze—I couldn't. With his left hand, he gently cupped my face and lifted it, so that our eyes would meet.
"I don't need to" he replied "I don't need to understand to tell you everything'll be alright, Silena." He assured.
Tears began to cloud my sight again, still his words made me smile a smile that maybe looked broken, but that deep down was real. I felt my eyes fall to the ground again, filled with shame and regret.
I could tell that he sensed there was something I wanted to tell him –he always knows when something's wrong, but I still wasn't ready.
With a sigh, I washed away my tears using the back of my right arm. He waited patiently for me to calm down, looking at me dearly and worriedly.
I didn't want to lose that.
I didn't want him to hate me, or to blame me for his dead and for all the things that I had done. I wouldn't be strong enough to take that, just like I hadn't been strong enough to fight Luke back when I was alive.
I would lose everything rather than him. My life, my family, my friends, my whole memories. Anything but him. If I lost him, then I wouldn't be able to live with myself anymore.
But I probably deserved it.
It was my fault, after all. I was the one that caused Charlie's and maybe even Castor's dead and . . . And I didn't even know how far my weakness had got Kronos' army or how many killings and murders could be blamed on me.
I had to tell him. I had prayed to see him again so I could tell him the truth, and now I had the opportunity. He had the right to know. After all, his dead was my fault. But . . . if he hated me after that . . . I wouldn't be able to take that but . . . if he did . . . I could understand he'd be in his right if he did.
He had the right to know what I had done and he also had the right to hate me afterwards.
I had to be brave, I told to myself. Take the consequences of your own actions, like Father said.
I inhaled deeply, still not looking at him. "Can I . . . Can I talk to you in private?" I asked, while I began to play with my fingers nervously.
"Sure, baby" he answered, rather puzzled—I didn't act like that around him. He reached for my left hand and started walking, guiding me.
I really wouldn't know the path he guided me through because I kept my eyes down all along, but when we finally stopped and I shyly looked up again we were standing in what seemed a private garden, with a bent next to a brick wall that had a creeper of white and yellow flowers, and, in front of us, there was a little fountain that represented a flying pegasus. We sat in the bent, still holding hands, in silence, for a minute or two until Charlie finally said something:
"We're alone here, Silena" he offered kindly. "Go ahead."
I nodded, but I still let a minute go without speaking, trying to gather the courage to tell him anything. Suddenly, English seemed a very hard language and I couldn't make out any words.
"Charlie, r-remember they said there was a s-spy at the camp?" I started, after sighing heavily.
He nodded. Tears began raining from my blue eyes again, but I had made my decision and I couldn't go back to saying nothing; I had to tell him.
"It was a girl" I said, gulping.
Silence. Again. An expectant silence.
"Don't tell me . . . " He replied, puzzled. "Was it . . . was it Clarisse?" He asked, shocked.
"What?" I asked with a squeaky voice, completely unsettled, until I understood: Charles was blaming my fault on my best friend! How could I do something like that to a person that I said I loved so much? "No!" I replied, with a look of panic in my features. "She-she would never do something like that!" I stuttered, even more nervous.
"Sorry" he muttered, before I continued.
I still couldn't make up the words, but I discovered, much to my bewilderment that I wasn't nervous anymore. The fact that he was blaming my fault on someone I cared for had made me realize that I had to be honest. It was now or never.
I didn't want him to find out by someone that wasn't myself.
I wasn't crying anymore. I inhaled deeply, stretched my back and began:
"It wasn't her. It was . . ." I told him with a shaky voice. A whimper interrupted me, but I hurried to say it all now that I had found the courage to begin "It was me!" I managed to say, before braking to cry again. Dry, pain-filled whimpers making its way to my throat and making my heart ache, even if it wasn't beating anymore.
He slowly retracted his hand from mine and it hurt me more than everything else, I realized while my sobs stopped. If I lost him, then there was really no point in eternity, if I lost him . . .
At least I had to try to explain myself.
"At first I did it because I was mad at Aphrodite and Hera. They-they're always fighting for something of no importance at all! What Luke thought, what he said—it all seemed . . . somewhat . . . logical. And I became an ally to him because I thought he was right and I wanted to get a little revenge on my mother. I never understood the risks or the trouble I was getting into"
"Then I met Percy. He wasn't mad at Poseidon, when he had a lot of more reasons to actually be upset with his father. And then the battles started and I realized how the ideals that Luke had told me about weren't the whole truth."
"I understood that what he said weren't worth the pain he was causing. But then I started dating you. And he noticed. He said I was looking beautiful, and that he wanted to make me happy. He promised he wouldn't hurt you. He promised he wouldn't hurt you! But he lied! That bastard lied!" I was soon bending under the pressure of the sorrowful whimpers that started emerging from my throat while I buried my face in my hands and cried desperately.
"I'm sorry, Charlie! I'm so, so sorry! I didn't know!" I hiccupped "I-I never thought he'd. . .! I'm s-sorry!" I pleaded "I wanted to save you. You are the person I loved the most in the whole world and I-I oh, I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" I gasped for air, sobbing "He said that I could save you and I never thought that he would . . .! I was just trying to protect you, I swear! But I failed! I failed miserably! I'm sorry!"
After that, I felt silent. There was nothing else to say, so I just sat there, next to him, hiccupping hysterically and whimpering sorrowfully.
We stayed like that for a minute or two, sitting next to each other, barely a few inches separated—had we been alive, we would have been able to feel the other's body heat, but now the only thing we had left was a feeling if closeness that was being rapidly drained.
And then I understood it. It was an implied message. My Charlie was a hero, he valued trust and respect and responsibility and honesty–and I had none of that, as just proved. I was nothing but a traitor.
He didn't want to have anything to do with someone like me. He didn't want to look at me, to this miserable girl that had ruined everything. He wanted me to leave, but he was just too kind to say it; now I understood.
I got to my feet shakily, trying very hard not to cry any more, but not being completely successful. I'd made my decision, as much as that hurt. He was in his right, and I had to understand it: he wasn't going to forgive me; it was fine, I wasn't going to forgive myself after losing him either.
When I said the words I felt like I was being reaped apart.
"If you don't want to see me anymore I-I understand" I whispered, before standing up and trying to walk away. Before turning around I got a glimpse of his face. It was going to be the last time I saw him. "I love you" I whispered, the words pregnant with pain and an unsaid 'goodbye'.
I had just taken my first step, when I heard him standing rapidly, before he grabbed me by the wrist, enabling me to walk away as I had planned.
"Don't leave, Silena" he whispered, and I was surprised to discover a note of a begging in his voice. "Please don't leave."
"B-but Charlie, I-I . . ."
"Please don't leave." He cut me.
"You don't have to say that, Charlie." I made myself say, but my voice was not louder than a whisper. "If you really don't want t-to see me again I un-understand."
"No, Silena." he replied pronouncing my name lovingly, almost adoringly. "I may be confused right now, but if there's something I know for sure, it's that I don't want to lose you. Don't leave, Lena" he said. "Please." He pleaded. He was pleading me not to go! Me! As if that was even necessary!
I bit my lip, trying hardly not to cry.
"It wasn't your fault, Silena." He said, pulling my smaller frame into his arms, squeezing me gently.
When his strong arms encircled me I took a deep breath, though I didn't need to anymore.
I felt safe again. I felt loved.
I let my head rest against his chest, but tears began to fall from my eyes again, though the violent sobs and the sorrowful whimpers were gone. I shyly encircled his waist, expecting him to reject me at the last moment with repulsion, but he didn't.
"It was not your fault, Silena" he repeated, kissing me slightly in the top of the head. "He used you. He lied to you. As he did to all of us. He used your own feelings against you. No one should ever do that, baby. It was not your fault."
Hearing him say that, hearing him say I was innocent, when I was in partly responsible of his own dead, hearing him say he forgave me . . . It meant everything to me.
After something that seemed fifteen minutes, I finally stopped crying. He stepped back, trying to meet his eyes with hers.
"I missed you, baby" he said, looking straight into my eyes with his beautiful dark orbs. "I missed you."
"Oh, Charlie! Oh, Charlie!" I said excitedly, lovingly, jumping to reach for his neck, resting my face in his shoulder, he caught me by the waist, encircling me and bringing me closer to him, hugging me tightly while I buried my head in the curve of his neck, pulling myself closer to his body. "I love you." I whispered. "I love you."
It seemed that the never-ending river of tears that had been raining from I eyes had finally been drained up.
Hope flourished in my heart. Hope and love, pure, strong love.
Suddenly, death didn't seem like something I should be afraid of—not if it could bring Charlie back to me.
I started laughing against his chest. It was a laugh that mixed joy, relief, love and hope, it was almost childish, but I felt so happy that I didn't care. It was a laugh that made my own chest vibrate and shudder with pure joy. A nervous laugh, one that made it easy to see how worried I had been minutes ago and how relieved I was now.
I could tell Charlie was smiling as well, with his chin resting over my head. He always did that when I laughed or smiled, almost as if he was happy just by seeing me being happy.
"Are you laughing at me?" he asked, pretending he was mad at me.
"Surely" I replied, following his game while I separated myself from him a little, leaving his arms around my waist and mines around his neck, so that our eyes would meet.
He looked at me with love, with fondness, with adoration. Just a mirror to my own eyes.
He slowly leant over, brushing his lips against mine, in a kiss that was as soft as a butterfly's wings. It was the sweetest kiss I had ever received, the sweetest and the one fullest with love. A single tear slid down my cheek. It wasn't a sad one, or a regretful one. It was my witness that everything would be alright.
"Don't you dare to threat me like that ever again" he whispered, turning serious when we finally separated; though he hadn't specified I knew he was talking about me saying I would leave him. "I never thought I had a chance with a girl half as wonderful as you are. But I did. If I lose you, baby" he murmured "I wouldn't be able to live with myself, Lena."
His words were so touching for me that I almost felt tears again, but this time, for once, I knew what to say.
"You don't have fear anything then, sweetheart" I answered, letting a shy smile appear in my lips, a smile that soon was returned by him. The last knot had been undone from my chest; now I could really be at ease "because I wouldn't be able to stand it without you either, of that I'm sure."
We stood like that for a moment, looking at each other tenderly, letting the unsaid love words hanging in the air because there was no need to say anything else, comprehension was all we needed, and we had it.
"Well" he said, after some time, smiling brightly at me "guess I should show you the place, miss, if you allow me" he offered, bowing and extending his right hand to me, while his left was neatly placed behind his back. I laughed cheerfully.
"Oh, I will be honored, my gentleman!" I replied, smiling while I took his hand in mine and squeezed.
We started walking through a path of different trees, holding hands.
"I think there's someone you'll like to meet, Silena" he said while we bumped into the most beautiful rose bush I had ever seen.
"Me? Whom?" I asked, turning around to look at him, puzzled.
"Penelope" he replied simply. I smiled. Penelope's and Ulysses' story is my favorite from Greek Mythology. The reason is simple. In Greek Mythology, most of the legends don't include love, or at least not a lasting one, but this one does. Penelope is my heroine because she loved her husband so dearly she waited for him during twenty years –ten years during the Iliad and other ten during the Odyssey– even when everyone thought that he was already dead and that she should marry someone else, so that her youth wasn't spent in mourning. But she didn't. And she showed everyone that love defeats whatever obstacle it has to face.
"Maybe later" I answered "For now, I've found a love story that's even better." I told him, smiling fondly at him, squeezing his hand.
We continued walking through the different roads that this beautiful place had, just enjoying each other's company. Knowing him so close to me made a feeling of calmness and happiness to spread through my whole body.
God, I had missed that; I had missed him. There was nothing else I could have wished for.
My smile enlarged at the thought.
We had each other now. And this time I had each and every day from eternity to be devoted to him. I had him.
Death hadn't been the end. It was just the beginning for us.