Atonement

Disclaimer: All recognizable characters and themes are the property of Rick Riordan from the world of Percy Jackson and the Olympians. I am not making any money from this work of fiction. I'm just playing around in his sandbox.

This is the first of three short fics that take place after Shelter: 10933494/1/Shelter-A-Solangelo-Novel - I am hard at work planning the novel-length sequel. Please follow me if you want to be notified about updates! I can also be found on tumblr as Mab-speaks. Tell me what you think about my fics in reviews, pms or by tumblr ask! I'm always happy to meet new people who share the love of PJO!

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Apollo pushes his spaghetti around his plate with his fork though his mind is far away from his food. The dining pavilion is full of laughter as the year-round campers eschew the assigned seating and are mostly grouped around the Hermes and Apollo tables. He has no problem with that. The past month since his Oracle has been healed has been a real joy for him, though he does wonder if Zeus knew that he'd love being here and that's why he'd only made him camp director for the off-season. He sets down his fork and pushes his plate away, watching the campers enjoying each other's company.

It makes sense they're grouped around his and Hermes's tables. In all the years he's spent watching the mortal world, and how the Olympian gods interact with it, one of the problems he's noticed is that most of the gods are ashamed of how dependent their powers are on their mortal children. He and Hermes have a small competition going, to see which of them can father the most demigods without Zeus catching on and prohibiting it altogether. So far, he thinks Hermes is winning, but it doesn't really bother him. As a messenger god, Hermes has ample opportunities to sow his seeds, so to speak, but Apollo's pretty sure he's not terribly far behind.

Chiron pushes himself away from the head table, nodding to him before heading back up to the big house. He's spending more and more time in his chair. Apollo wonders if Chiron's old wound is acting up again, even after Hermes had called him back from Tartarus on Zeus's orders and restored him. Back then, Chiron had been accidentally struck by Hercules and crippled with an eternal leg wound. The pain was so great he'd chosen Tartarus to lessen his suffering, and exchanged his immortal life to free Prometheus. As Chiron's adoptive father, Apollo pleaded his case with Zeus to recall him. He'd explained the stipulations Zeus had set for Prometheus's release were now met, and wouldn't it be a great idea if Chiron was restored? It would make Zeus look like the bigger man, and he wouldn't have to worry about the demigod heroes being trained by subpar instructors. Those were the days, back when Zeus had the capacity to listen to reason.

But Zeus's fears have grown over the millennia. His toxic marriage to Hera has sown more pain over the entire world than even the Titans had brought upon it. Zeus has been so afraid of the Oracle, he's crippled himself and his brothers, perhaps without even realizing how badly. Taking the vow not to have demigod children has to be the stupidest thing he's ever done. It goes completely against the nature of the gods, and the children the big three do have – being unable to keep their vow – are more powerful than they would be if Zeus had just accepted his true nature. If there's one thing Apollo's learned from being the custodian of the Oracle and watching over his demigod children, it's that trying to escape your fate because you've heard a prophecy – which might not even mean what you think it means – is the dumbest thing a person could do. It's so much more productive, and seriously, even fun, to just be who you are – to develop your talents, to share them with your children, to pass on your learnings to the next generation.

It's time for the campfire. Apollo stands up and makes the announcement, delighted to shove his thoughts aside and lead the way to the fire pit, guitar in hand.

After leading the sing-along for a few songs, he turns the musical accompaniment over to his kids and sits back to enjoy just being part of the group for a while.

He shivers. It's the oddest sensation. He's always felt the warm weather was drawn to him, figuring it started after he'd adopted the sun gig from Helios, but for the past month – after getting his Oracle back, and figuring out how to do this whole 'camp director' thing – the warmth has been missing.

He spots his son, Will Solace, across the fire, sneaking his hand out of his hoodie pocket and finding Nico di Angelo's hand in the dark. Those two are too freaking cute. He approves of their budding relationship, even to the point of distracting Chiron whenever he starts considering forbidding them alone time in the cabins. Apollo's not an idiot. He knows what's going on with them, but who is he to spoil young love? He pretends to be oblivious to how Will's bed is sometimes unslept in during the morning check. He makes a mental note to clue them in to the fact that they aren't as clever at covering their tracks as they think they are, before Dionysus returns for the spring and summer.

The spring. His mind wanders to the Oracle's spring, now unfettered by the monster, Python. He grins at her new form as part of Will's staff. She seems to be fond of watching the campfire, and of offering constructive criticism to his children on their musical arrangements.

He recalls the last time he'd felt the comfort of a warm breeze had been the moment before Daphne had arrived, and he was praising Will for a quest well led. A warm breeze ... He stands up, realization smacking him like a fist to the face. The singing stops. All the campers turn their eyes on him.

He brushes their concern off with a broad smile and a laugh. "Sorry, folks. I was just hit by a jolt of inspiration and I have to chase it to its finish. Chiron, can you make sure everyone's in by curfew?"

The greying centaur nods, stroking his thickened beard. He's gotta jet before Chiron looks at him too closely. There's a score he needs to settle, once and for all, and the first person he needs to find is Eros.

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How could he have been so slow to catch on? He thinks back to all the times he and Zephyros have crossed paths over the years. The time before the Hyacinthus debacle, Zephyros had been a breath of fresh air at parties on Olympus. He'd always spotted when Apollo was having daddy troubles and distracted him from them with his flighty antics. He remembers how much he'd felt betrayed when Hyacinthus died; he'd lost more than one friend on that day. And yet, even though he'd held onto his righteous anger for the god of the West Wind, he'd always been there, in the corner of Apollo's eye, never approaching, but always a comforting presence. He's just never realized how much of a presence that had been until it vanished.

"Eros?" Apollo calls out. The ruins of Salona aren't easy to navigate, but after passing through to the courtyard of Eros's concealed palace, Apollo senses his divine presence nearby. He picks his way down flagstone paths, passing beds of flowers and trees that would be past their prime were they back in the States. He spots Eros sitting on a low stone wall, apparently laughing to himself. His golden bow and arrows are slung over his shoulder, and his brilliantly white wings are tucked out of the way.

"Apollo!" Eros calls out. "We've been expecting you. You're late, you realize?"

"I don't know what you're talking about." He looks around. The place is deserted. "I'm looking for Zephyros."

Eros's red eyes flash knowingly. "You're forbidden from hurting him. He's under my protection. But, yes, my brother and I were just discussing the fact that you'd turn up asking about him one of these days."

Apollo freezes at the mention of Eros's brother. As the son of Aphrodite and Ares, Eros has many brothers. Apollo doesn't sense Phobos or Deimos lingering nearby, so this brother must be one of the other love gods, the erotes: Himeros, god of lust, Pothos, god of yearning or – Apollo swallows hard – Anteros, the god of requited love, the only one of them that he has never been able to see. As he can't see anybody sitting beside Eros on the wall, he figures it's him.

"All the same, where can I find him?" Apollo asks, feigning bravery. His sister has always reminded him he's afraid of facing his destiny, but knowing how bad Zeus has it out for him, he doesn't figure she can honestly blame him for that.

Eros narrows his eyes. "What do you want with him? He's not very happy with you at the moment. If I were to tell you how to find him, and then discover you have harmed a single feather on his wings, my revenge will be fierce."

The threat gives him pause. He's already felt the sting of Eros's revenge … for eons. But he must admit that Eros does seem to be offering him another chance. He'd allowed Daphne's heart to soften after all, though now Apollo knows for sure she's not the one he longs for.

"I understand," he says, swallowing his anger at the threat. It won't do any good to push Eros's buttons. "I want to thank you, too, for going easy on me ... with Daphne ... after all these years."

Eros laughs again. The trees and shrubs shake in their beds.

Apollo glares at him. "What's so funny?"

Eros clears his throat and stands up, making Apollo fight the urge to take a step backwards. Strangely, Eros's tone is soft, almost sympathetic. "It wasn't my idea to let up on you; that was Zephyros. He said he was tired of watching you crash and burn, and wouldn't it be charitable for me to even the playing field? I figured you'd crash and burn on your own anyway, so I granted the request." He shrugs. "Walk with me. Let's talk, then I may tell you where you can find our flighty friend."

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Chapter 2 coming soon