A/N: This fic is set between the Lewis and Clark expedition and the War of 1812. Also, it does not express my views of Native Americans, but what I understand as the common view of them in the early nineteenth century. The common attitudes by white people in general at the time was very racist, and despite being wrong, was accepted for the most part as fact.
The pair of demigods sat upon their horses, wandering the westward trails set forth by the mighty buffalo upon the never ending prairies. Apollo, in his fiery chariot, sat far above in the endless sky, forever driving west, and Artemis' gray moon sat low in the east, getting an early start on this particular day. They were alone, travelers hoping to make new lives for themselves in this new western seaboard, which they had heard Meriwether Lewis had made it to only a dew years before.
"What do you think we will find, Percy?" the younger brother asked.
"I don't know, Jason," the older one, Percy, replied. "We'll find Indians, though. Lots of Indians."
"What makes you say that?" Jason said.
"Back before the war, Ma said there were tons of Indians in these United States. You don't see as many of them as before. Well they had to go somewhere," Percy said. Percy didn't know. He was to young to remember the war, when their home was a British Colony. Their mother wasn't, born in Scotland, she had been one of the last indentured servants to come before things had fully escalated between England and the thirteen colonies.
"If there are lots of Indians, who don't like Americans, over in the west, why are we going west?" Jason asked. From what they have both heard about Indians, you did not want to meet them.
"Because back home there is nothing for us," Percy stated sorrowfully. "Without Ma alive, there is nothing for a pair of poor bastard boys but to do but survive. Out here, no one knows us. We can build a brand new life for ourselves."
"What about Mr. Hamilton? He was a bastard, and look at how well he ended up," Jason stated.
"Hamilton was special. And he had a hand up getting up on George Washington's good side during the Revolution. There's nothing special about us, and no war to get on anybody's good side," Percy told his younger brother pessimistically.
"Someday, we're going to make it big. We're going to be heroes. We'll be something more than two forgotten sons of Eros," Jason said hopefully.
"Maybe someday," was the last words he got from Percy for the rest of the day.
oO0Oo
Two hundred years later, two demigods, one of Rome, and the other of Greece, did in fact make names for themselves. And if one cared to find an image of the two children of Eros that had come two hundred years before, it could be sworn that the two heroes of Olympus looked nearly identical to them.