This is written for BlackSCrazy's Once Upon A Time Competition. Many thanks to my Beta, The Proud CC Giver!

I do not own PJO.

The Beginning

Jason storms toward the principia with only one intention in mind. The cold breeze ruffles his straw-blond hair, but he doesn't notice the chill. The crowd of people, his family, part for the angry son of Jupiter. His eyebrows furrow in thought, remembering the dream from last night.

"You must not fail me, son," Jupiter said.

Jason bowed. "Yes, father."

Jupiter cleared his throat and continued to pace. "I claimed you for a reason, Jason. Do not fail me. Rally the legion to war. Saturn must be defeated."

"I will not fail, father," Jason said. "I will make you proud."

"Humph," Jupiter said dismissively. "You have already fallen short. If you were truly worthy, you would be praetor by now."

Jason gulped. "Yes, father."

"See to it that you succeed. The future of the world hangs in the balance." He disappeared in a flash of blinding light.

That cold dismissal hit Jason right in the heart. If his Roman pride hadn't kept him marching forward, he might have even cried.

But Romans don't cry.

Especially not sons of Jupiter who have their eyes on the praetor's chair beside a daughter of Bellona.

He noticed the long looks she gives him when she thinks he's not looking, as if she's analyzing his bone structure. It makes him uncomfortable.

He mounts the stairs, managing his toga with extraordinary grace.

"Grace!" calls Dakota from the crowd.

Jason turns. "Yeah?"

"Get 'em, tiger!"

Jason laughs and enters the principia. It never fails to awe him, even though he's been inside dozens of times before. The white marble Roman columns, the soaring ceilings, the solid gold praetor's chairs, one empty, the long marble table with personalized chairs.

Jason looks around. He's the first person here. Except, of course, for the praetor.

Reyna lounges on her throne, picking at her fingernails. She barely looks up when Jason enters.

"Grace," she says casually. "You're early."

She always seemed to be here. Jason thought she might even sleep in the principia on occasion.

"So are you." He replies. Then, a thought strikes him. "Reyna, I-I wanted to tell you something."

"Shoot," she says.

"Last night, I had this dream."

He has Reyna's interest by now. "Go on," she says.

He continues, telling her what happened. Her brows furrow in thought. "Then you have to convince them," she says.

"I know that," he says exasperatedly. "Could you, you know, put your vote in for me when I bring it up?"

"We'll see. Depends on how well you do. I can't let you slack off in your duty."

He shakes his head, knowing this is as good as he's going to get out of her. "Right. Thanks. Good luck today."

"You're the one who's going to need it," she retorts dryly, but it's with a sly twinkle in her eyes, the one he likes so much.

He grins at her, then takes a seat in his chair at the head of the table. It's a handsome chair, gold with inlaid lapis lazuli stones.

He sits back the moment Octavian walks in. Without giving any inclination that he sees Reyna or Jason, he seats himself. Jason studies the snake. Wet, slicked to the scalp, white blond hair, and squinty blue eyes. Tall and lean, with barely a muscle on his body. A teddy bear hanging from his toga belt. Holding a strip of old fashioned Roman parchment. Quite a bad outfit.

Jason's hands go for his coin before he remembers it's at his bunk in the fifth cohort. He resists the urge to curse.

It's the loudest silence Jason's ever heard, brimming with unsaid arguments. It used to be an easy silence between the three of them, a laughing silence. Then Octavian became augur, and everything changed.

The clock ticks louder and louder until it's all Jason can focus on.

The door to the principia opens, and a torrent of people flow in. They don't seem to notice the awkward silence, instead filling the lofty building with noise, sending echoes bouncing the marble columns.

Reyna waits until they have all seated themselves before she addresses the two dozen toga-wearing people. "This is the June meeting for the demigods and legacies of New Rome. Jason Grace would like to start the debate off with a message he received from Lord Jupiter himself."

Jason resists the urge to roll his eyes. He takes a breath, then begins, wording his speech very carefully as he begins. "Last night, I had-a dream. My father–Lord Jupiter– was there. He sounded tired and weary, and he said–he said that Saturn is rising."

Jason pauses for a moment. There's not a sound in the whole principia. He goes on. "He said that we–the people of Rome–have to go to war against Saturn."

Octavian gets up out of his chair. "How do we know this dream Jupiter was really Lord Jupiter? It could be, you know, just a dream? Secondly, we don't have the numbers for a full-blown war with Saturn and his minions. Thirdly, we have scouts stationed at Saturn's Olympus. If they had spotted any significant rebuilding, they would have sent an eagle."

The gathering nods and mutters in assent.

Jason addresses Octavian again. "Firstly, you should know what a dream vision is, since you're the augur. Surely you've had them? Secondly, no we don't. Not in the cohorts. But in the village, we do. Intensive training schedules for the next few weeks and we'll be ready. Thirdly, the scouts are dead. Father showed me. They died two weeks ago, but before they died, they sent an eagle saying that there is movement around the ruins. They've been slowly rebuilding themselves for years, you know that, Octavian."

Octavian spits, "I must see what the will of the gods is."

He pulls the teddy bear off his belt and rips it open with his teeth. He then scatters the stuffing around him on the table. He mutters in Latin over the sad remains of the bear before looking up.

"The gods decree that Saturn is rising. I do not agree with it, but if it is their will, I will not stand in their way."

Jason gives a nod of assent before turning his gaze to Reyna. Her face is impassive, but she catches Jason's eye and dips her head slowly.

"Now then, we must decide on how this war shall be waged."

Three weeks later, the spear cuts gracefully through the air from Jason's hands and buries itself in the dry earth of Bellona's temple. His friends around him start to cheer.

Jason bows his head and prays. Goddess Bellona, what am I doing? Help me to protect them. Help me keep my family safe. Help us win this war…

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