Disclaimer: I do not own anything you see here.

Warnings: Male!Sally-Jackson - because I had never seen such a thing. This is a REWRITE!

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Under The Moonlight
— Prologue —

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His body was numb with pain. When Sander Jackson went trekking in the woods this morning, to search for his missing pet dog, Cody, this certainly was not what he'd expected. He'd only caught a glimpse of a girl with auburn hair down her pale, bare back—a sharp turn of the girl's head and the next thing he knew, the silver wolves had leapt out of the shadows, melting straight out of the wooden trunks.

Sander gasped as the wolves bit and tore into his skin, tearing flesh and revealing bone.

His blue eyes were glazed; he cracked his right eyelid open and saw the girl, fully-clothed in silver again, her eyes silver-yellow boring down into him, unblinking

He'd always heard that people's lives flashed before their eyes moments before their deaths. He'd never bought it.

And it wasn't his whole life that he saw: he caught glimpses, smiling faces of his parents who'd kissed him goodbye one day and never returned, he recalled his smile when he saw his uncle for the first time, and the smile dropping when his uncle made it clear he was a burden.

But there had been nice times, too. Cody had been his uncle's first and last gift; Sander's best friend. He just hoped these wolves and this odd, not-human girl wouldn't hurt it.

Sander had always been able to see things others couldn't see. He sorely wished he hadn't had that gift.

"I'm sorry," he gurgled, choking the words through a not-yet torn throat. The wolf closest to his head snarled, snapping its jaws close to Sander's eyes, threatening to rip his head apart from his shoulders. "Didn't mean to—Lady Artemis."

The slight widening of her eyes revealed her surprise but beyond that, she showed no reaction.

There was a sharp yip: Cody's barking.

Sander thought that he'd hit all-times low when his heart swelled at the thought of seeing his dog before he died. Sander never had the best of lives; his fingers twitched, digging into the soil and crunching dry, dead leaves of fall. And beneath his fingernails, crusted there was his blood; it pooled beneath him and he felt as if he was taking a warm bath.

Please take care of him?

His blue eyes blinked the message to the girl—goddess—before everything went black.


She was stunned; never before had she felt such devotion of a man to a pet—his friend—the glimpses she caught of his life, she never felt joy as he'd felt when the dog was present.

That cost her. The dog—Cody—growled, teeth bared, and all of a sudden, he was larger than Artemis' silver wolves. Cody lunged, straight for her who stood, pale and untouchable, in the growing puddle of the mortal's blood.

His sharp teeth dug into her skin, drawing ichor and before she knew it, she'd reacted violently—on pure instinct—and with strength no mortal could match, flung the dog away. Her ichor slashed a golden streak across the air and still, the dog hung on.

It understood the concept of death and vengeance. Artemis stalled the wolves, do not interfere, and with one last burst of power, the dog released his hold, leaving Artemis' right arm significantly mangled. The pain stung a little, yes, but she gritted her teeth and started healing herself.

Artemis stepped away from where her ichor had mingled with the mortal's: gold and red. She would bury him later; she whistled for her wolves to accompany her. She had been gone for far too long, she would reassure her Huntresses first before she came back to give him the proper burial.


Searching for the scattered Hunters took her longer than she would've thought. A Hunt had gone wrong and Artemis stood, vigilant, as the daughter of Asclepius struggled to heal the injured daughter of Demeter. "Will she be fine?" asked Phoebe, brisk tone not masking her concern for their youngest member.

"Yes," answered Emma tiredly, wiping sweat that beaded on her forehead. Her hands glowed a faint, gentle blue that reminded Artemis of the mortal boy—no older than eighteen, honestly, not even a man yet—and she recalled that it had been hours since she left his corpse there. "Uh, Lady Artemis?"

"Yes?"

"There's no need to be here anyone, ma'am," she said timidly, "Lilah's passed the stable condition and she'd make a speedy recovery, I don't think you have to be worried anymore."

Artemis offered her a gentle smile. "Very well. I'll take my leave. I leave you in charge, Zoe. I have personal matters to attend to."

Zoe nodded, curious, but respectful enough to not pry.


Accompanying the dog's yipping, this time, was the sound of an infant wailing. Artemis quickened her pace, leaping deftly over the budding trees—anything below twenty feet was no challenge to her. She rounded the tall pine tree and into the clearing the mortal Sander Jackson had died in, his throat torn out by her wolves.

Though a part of her whispered that he'd deserved it for daring to, she did not think he had been those sort of boys, and it had been an accident. He had stumbled into the woods, wrong-footed by the maze that the trees made, to ensure the safety of his dog.

Sander's life had been Hades enough without this cruel end.

Artemis grimaced, wondering if she hadn't been so consumed by her rage and instinct, would the boy still be alive?

Artemis paused at the sight that greeted her: a baby, small and capable of fitting in Artemis' arms and leave a gap large enough for a second baby, was crying. To her disgust, there were ants and other insects crawling all over the body; she snapped her fingers and the insects disappeared. She hurried forward, steps silent and light as wind, to approach, first the baby.

The dog had exhausted itself, glaring at her with baleful eyes but she paid no heed to it. The sun was setting, it was almost her turn to drive the moon chariot but the buzzing in her ears, the tugging of her heartstrings made her wholly uncertain. The baby was male, covered in blood, gold and red.

An inkling of realization trickled into her gut when she saw the tuft of bloodied auburn hair on his head; the eyes that looked up into her face was her own. Abruptly, darkness fell. How long had she stood there trying to accept the impossible?

The baby had been cooing ever since she held him. Stiffly, Artemis pulled a couple of drachmas and fit it into the palm of the mortal man's hand. However, she was at a loss as to what to do with the infant; she could not pretend to pull off an insouciant shrug and leave it there.

She'd heard, or at least thought she'd heard, that every godly parent knew when their demigod children were born. They had never described it properly—or she'd never heard them properly for she never cared about these.

She wondered if this sensation—of her heart stretching past the Huntresses and her brother and mother to encompass this little baby with auburn hair and silvery-yellow eyes—was it, telling her that she had a demigod child.


In retrospect, it was not the oddest way for a demigod child to be born: Adonis had popped right out of a tree. If the Fates had willed her son into existence, then his birth was meant to be. Artemis' hands trembled the slightest bit as she modified her chariot to encompass a space for the baby to rest in, before she started the journey of the moon across the sky.

The mundane and repetitive activity was soothing in its own way and she had the rest of the night to think about what to do.

She knew demigods were given to their mortal parents but this boy had no mortal parent. Sander Jackson had been, however indirectly, killed by her.

Artemis certainly did not want to get into that conversation with the boy when he grew up. There was also the matter of his name. She could not refer to her son as "the baby" or "the boy" for the rest of his life. She wished, a little culpable for thinking such and wrong-footed, that the baby had been female.

Girls at least she had experience with raising. Not boys.

And the name... name ... It had to be something special. Much as she tried to refuse it or disregard it, this was her first and only child. Artemis had no wish to see him live a tragic hero's life, full of curses, betrayal, deaths, wars and pain. Artemis wished to see his happy ending.

"Perseus," she whispered almost to herself. Above head, the constellation whose name she murmured glittered like a thousand spars. "Perseus ... Jackson." There, the last name in honor of the mortal man whom she'd killed. The mixing of a mortal and a god's essence, and this baby Perseus Jackson was that creation, the result of such an unlikely union that Artemis had been unaware of.

As for where she'd leave the boy...

Artemis felt uncomfortable but that place was the only place she had in mind.


— Chapter 1 —


At the age of six, Perseus Jackson was already considered a troubled child by the matron of the orphanage he'd been raised in his whole life. Perseus sulked in the room he shared with two other boys, sitting by the window where moonlight spilled in through the bare windows, he tried to ignore his stomach's grumbling.

For the last mischief, Perseus had been sent to bed without supper and he was hungry. He stole another glance at the clock ticking away. A few more minutes and he'd be able to sneak down to the kitchen, perhaps there would be leftovers there.

This was a routine Perseus had gotten used to ever since he realized he couldn't keep himself out of trouble. So, instead, he devised ways to be satisfied even when in trouble. Being deprived of dinner was a common punishment so Perseus had trained himself to be sneaky.

This was made easy by his light build; he could be as silent as shadows when he wanted to, and he usually wanted to. Perseus drew too much attention already, what with his moonlit skin, auburn hair that always looked as if he'd bathed in blood, and bright, almost-glowing silver-yellow eyes, he unnerved everyone and he even heard a couple comment about how unnatural he was.

Perseus didn't care about that; his name was from Greek origin and it was special and he liked it. Perseus Jackson was the only inkling he had to his past, to the parents he had never met.

He'd heard the story many times now but he always reviewed it to construct a proper imagination.

A girl, barely seventeen by her appearance, as Mrs. Cole had said, had appeared by their doorstep. Bundled in her arms was yours truly and there was no doubt the girl was his mother for they had bore unmistakable resemblance towards one another. Cool and regal like a queen, Mrs. Cole commented, doesn't look like someone poor or unable to take care of her child. I don't know why she left you here.

Perseus didn't know either.

A movement from the corner of his eye caught his attention. Perseus opened the window and leaned out, silver eyes curious. His room was on the first floor, the window faced off into the forest reserve that surrounded the orphanage. He glanced around, saw nothing, but before he could pull back, something seized his pajama sleeves.

He jumped but now, he could feel the snout of a canine, and before he could yell for help, the wolf had hauled him out of his window.

He yelped. His scream stuck, wound tightly in his voice box, as five more wolves emerged, and surrounded him. Perseus wondered if he was going to die; he couldn't even scream for help.

Come.

Perseus stared; he did not just hear a voice coming from the growl of the wolf. But the wolf in the lead inclined its head and trotted away. Follow us, we'll lead you to her.

Perseus attributed this to his tendency to dream vivid dreams. He staggered to his feet, feeling cold in his thin linen pajamas, and followed on unsteady feet. His first few steps into the woods were uncertain at first, then he was full-out running after the wolves.

Ignoring the oddity of the situation, Perseus could safely say he was enjoying himself: the wind in his hair, brushing his face, drew an exhilarated laugh out of his mouth.

The trees and darkness twisted, blurring into a zip of green, black, brown as he dashed after the silver wraiths in the forest.

They came to a stop all too-soon, Perseus wanted to continue running, and he wondered if he could've reached the other end of the world.

He stared, curiously, as the wolves disbanded, scattering to the side as an auburn-haired girl stepped forward. Shadowing her was a gigantic wolf, at least twenty feet and her fur was different, it was red. Her intelligent yellow eyes told Perseus that this wolf was not an ordinary one and the girl wasn't exactly a girl.

Perseus took an unsteady step forward. "Hello?" His high, childlike voice was uncertain.

"Perseus, my son, we meet at last," and the auburn-haired girl stepped forward, as if to embrace him.


[A/N]: A rewrite of the original version because I noticed tons of grammar mistakes and it was unoriginal - the adoption thing and such since someone had used that idea before. Anyway, this Percy will be purely Artemis' son, and no Poseidon powers to speak of. The Male!Sally was actually done on a whim and rest assured, won't be appearing much anymore beyond mentions.

The pairings are undecided. Suggestions are welcomed.

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