A/N: Hello there fanfiction! My, it's been a while since I last posted, hasn't it? Well, this is the start of a new story, surprise, surprise, which has stemmed from a competition I created with a friend of mine. Having both recreated out own little mix of words, we have the 100 Theme Challenge started all over again. Seen as I've started with Theme 99, I think it's going well!
Also, please be aware that I took a few liberties as this is fanfiction. I don't know which gods exist in the world, so I added Norse and just put in 'Oriental', which covers practically all of the Asian beliefs, I think. Well, not quite, but all of the older ones, at least. This chapter is also in the point of view of an ancient god, and his opinions are portrayed throughout. None of the references to religion are my own opinion (I go to a Catholic School, for crying out loud!) and some of the thoughts about the female character (who could really do with a name) are exaggerated. Obviously.
DISCLAIMER: I DON'T OWN ANYTHING RELATED TO PERCY JACKSON AND THE OLYMPIANS, THE KANE CHRONICLES, OR HEROES OF OLYMPUS. I'M NOT MAKING ANY PROFIT FROM THESE STORIES.
THEME NINETY-NINE:
Courage
The first time he saw her it was the middle of summer. Pride Week was in full swing and the streets of New York were cluttered with people protesting for their rights. Banners and picket signs were hung in the air. Humorous, and even offensive, slogans attracted the attention of anyone with a camera. People were shouting and screaming, but the atmosphere was one of a festival – happiness laced with the thrill of adrenaline. People were running around, snapping shots on those portable cameras, or even just chatting away to people. Biblical protesters were being hounded by those in favour. The odd sign promoting a heterosexual who was in support of the movement would pop up, but most of the time they were just about the people involved.
Hades, Apollo loved mortals.
Now, he had to admit, he view was probably a bit warped by the fact he was bisexual himself. Honestly, it didn't take a genius to work it out. The thing with Hyacinth? Not as much of a 'made-up myth' as everyone thought it was. To this day he would shoot death looks at Zephyr. He had no right killing the sun god's lover, even if he was jealous.
But the blond wouldn't let himself fall into a fit of rage. Today was about celebrating the fact so many people to get together in support of their freedom to choose. Well, that and trying to find a date. Preferably one who could voice there opinion well. Other than that, he couldn't care less. Male or female would do him fine. He would have felt bad, but he wasn't the only one. Hermes would be wondering around somewhere, and chances were that Dionysus and a few others were in it for the partying and the atmosphere. He would have been with them, if it wasn't for the unmistakable urge to find a date.
And then he saw her.
Admittedly, she looked a bit nutty, but there was something about her. She stood on one of the low walls, hand holding onto a lamppost, merely letting her own weight keep her from falling painfully to the ground. Around her feet was a littering of signs, covered in the bright and bold slogans that you could see anywhere. There wasn't anything new, but hers were some of the most spectacular. He would have said she'd spent the whole night on them if it wasn't been for the pencil tucked behind her ear, and the fact that a clearly fresh-on pair of jeans were somehow covered in black marker pen and cracked paint. The side of her nose was smudged with ink, accenting her tanned skin. She was gorgeous. Two navy-blue eyes and messy, mousy blonde hair pulled back in a pony tail. Whoever she was, she held rival to Aphrodite herself.
But that wasn't what he found attractive. Something about her had this powerful glow that made his eyes widen, and his mouth fall open. There was something there that was giving her a buzz of magical energy. Was she a demigod? No, something else. He needed to find out what. It would drive him mad to know that he couldn't even try to ask her out.
Except she was in the Pride protest. Which made her very possibly a lesbian. If she was bi, he could handle it, but his luck never worked that way.
Except when his luck did work that way. She could be protesting for someone else.
No, no chance. Why would someone as pretty as her be bothered by something like this?
Hang on, pretty? Whoever her godly parent was, they were going to kill him.
Except her power wasn't that of any half-blood he'd ever seen. And trust me when I say he'd met plenty.
"My brother ended up on the streets because of you!" she snapped at a group of religious protestors stepped up to offer their services in 'relieving her soul of sin'. Honestly, he would have laughed, if it wasn't for the fact that Christianity was such a prominent religion. There was no need to bring other things into an already shocking argument about human rights. "If you really wanted to follow Leviticus, you wouldn't have cut your hair!"
At this point, Apollo had to grin. It was nice to see he wasn't the only one on the only one with the belief that some of the things mentioned in the Bible, were, well… a little bit nutty, actually. A bit like the girl had seemed when he first saw her. The only difference was she didn't seem so mental now. In fact, he would have been happy to go up and speak to her in front of everyone. He wouldn't have been so happy to go and read the Bible in front of everyone.
"You know, if you're thinking like that, maybe you should try reading a holy book. They're fascinating, if only for the clear insanity of some of the writers."
The sun god blinked, before spinning around. He'd half expected to see himself stuck with his younger brother, Hermes, but no; it was the wine god. How he'd gotten time away from Camp Half-Blood, the blond would have to find out, but somehow he always managed to get to Pride Week. Then again, he was considered to be the patron of transsexuals, along with Hermaphroditus, who Apollo always tried to stay as far away from as possible. He could manage the whole bisexual thing, and was happily as open-minded as every other Greek man when it came to sexuality, but something about the son of Hermes and Aphrodite was just a bit off.
"What do you want, Dionysus?"
The curly-haired man just shrugged slightly, looking off towards the blonde girl. "You've never been good with observation, Apollo."
He blinked. Was he really being berated by the god who was currently on probation for chasing a tree nymph?
"Excuse me?" he coughed slightly, not too sure why his technically-younger half-brother was doing.
Dionysus held up his hands, palms outwards. "No need to get offended, Apollo. I'm merely suggesting that falling for someone who is clearly of another Pantheon is not the best plan."
"Of another… what?"
"Can't you see it, Phoebus?" He winced slightly at the name. It only ever seemed to come up as an insult. "She's got the aura of someone powerful, but she isn't ours. Not a Greek. I doubt she's even Roman. If anything, she'll be Norse, or Egyptian – maybe even Oriental, if your lucky."
Apollo glanced back. He'd sensed it before, some power building and buzzing around her. While the sarcasm was unnecessary, Dionysus has a point. What he'd earlier mistaken as the buzzing power of a demigod… Well, this is just my luck, he thought to himself, sky blue eyes stuck on the accented girl as she continued with her protest. If he could just pinpoint where her power was coming from, maybe he would have a chance.
"Now, if you don't mind, I'm going to find Aphrodite," Dionysus sighed. "I'm sure she'd be thrilled to see how this plays out."
There was a fleeting moment of panic in his heart. He'd fought monsters, Titans, and things that were even worse, but the idea of having the love goddess following and manipulating him… it wasn't even worth considering. Apollo reached out a hand. "Wait!"
Dionysus turned to face him.
"I'll- I'll go and speak to her, shall I? See if- see if she'll tell me who she is."
There was no question asked about what the elder god was talking about. There was no need. After all, Aphrodite only had one use to the wine god.
He shrugged, a sly grin etched on his features. "Fine. Try your luck with the girl. But I'm still fetching Aphrodite – that internal argument of yours is much to amusing to miss."
"Internal argument?"
The smirk just stayed in place as Dionysus turned away, heading towards one of the back alleys. "I'm the god of madness, Phoebus. I know it when I see it."
Apollo just blinked, not sure what it was he was meant to be doing. When he turned back to the girl, he got the unmistakable urge to turn and run, like she was bad news. But there was also a spark; an electricity that made his veins feel like molten gold, and his body burn. And that was saying something, seen as he spent most days driving the sun.
So could he leave her?
No, not really. Not without finding out her name, at least.
But there was a flicker of doubt. If she was from another Pantheon, she'd recognise him immediately. And then… and then…
'Then what?'he asked himself, not entirely sure where his mind was going with this one, which was more than a little worrying. He was the god of prophesy, patron of the Oracle of Delphi – if he tried hard enough, he would be able to see the end of the world, for crying out loud – but he couldn't even figure out what was going on in his own mind.
Most people would call him arrogant for thinking like that, but is it arrogance if it's true? He didn't flaunt it – oh no, never flaunt it. The Sight was more of a curse than a blessing. He would rather die than make someone other than the Oracle to take it, but sometimes he couldn't stop the Fates. Sometimes his demigods were lucky; it wasn't as bad, but others… He'd seen his children loose their minds because of the curse his genetics brought on them.
In fact, sometimes he was pretty sure he could feel his own mind slipping away…
"Dionysus was right, you are arguing with yourself."
Apollo sighed, rubbing his hand against his temple. Were people just stalking him today, or something?
A hand reached out to grab his shoulder, but he shook it off. The last thing he needed was his younger brother – the con artist who was his greatest downfall – trying to comfort him.
"What do you want Her…" He trailed off. This was exactly the way the conversation started with Dionysus not long before, and not for the first time in his life, the odd feeling of déjà vu hit. "Is there something you want, brother?"
Hermes frowned slightly. Apollo knew why. Despite the fact he was probably the one Olympian (other than Artemis) that he considered his actual brother, he would never actually call him 'brother'. Only the older gods did that.
"You shouldn't be thinking like that. I might not be able to read your mind, but it was pretty obvious something was up."
"Excuse me?"
"Just go and ask her out, Ollie."
Apollo smirked. There were names they had to use to be mortal, and for some reason, he'd been given that one. Because Hermes had always called him that, he expected. The Fates weren't the only ones who had a sense of humour, apparently.
"Do you really think it's the simple?"
"No, not at all, but it has to be worth a try."
"Honestly, is that the best pep talk you could come up with?"
There was a moment of silence between the two, as the messenger god contemplated his answer.
"Yep."
Not for the first time that day (actually, it was closer to the third or forth time), Apollo sighed. Sometimes he had to wonder how there were so many demigods – none of his brothers seemed particularly good with women. He was probably the only one that had any idea what he was doing, if he did say so himself.
"Dionysus said I was driving myself insane."
Yep. Definitely knew what he was doing.
The younger of the two shrugged slightly, leaning against the brick wall behind him. "He also thinks spontaneous combustion isn't a form of harm. Personally, I wouldn't worry about it."
'Hmm,' Apollo shook his head slightly. 'Don't worry. 'Course not.'
"Dionysus also said that she was from another Pantheon."
Hermes glanced over to the girl, while the sun god tried to train his eyes elsewhere. Focussing for too long in one place wouldn't be helpful. Especially not on her, when it would be better if he kept himself from drawing attention to the fact he was interested. He was smooth and calm, flirtatious and straight-forward, blunt in his actions, but not rude or disrespectful. Even when it came to the crunch, he'd never show a women anything but complete respect.
"… You're not paying attention to a word I'm saying, are you?"
"No, not really," he admitted, rubbing the palm of his hand against he forehead. Man, he was beginning to feel repetitive.
"Are you sure you're all right, Apollo? You aren't… ill, or anything, are you?"
"I'm the god of medicine, Herms. I think I'd realise if I was ill."
The pixie features lit up. "You'd think, wouldn't you?" The other god paused a minute, before continuing, however. "Go for it, Oll."
He bit his lip. Was he ready to head over there are just ask her out? Normally, that wouldn't have been a problem, but when inter-Pantheon war was concerned…
"What, are you really going to follow the rule?"
No. No, he wasn't. There wasn't any reason for him to. Sure, his father had told him more than once to avoid getting into any kind of relationship with the other Pantheons, but there were some places were it was a little shady. The Norse gods were hardly as bad as the others, and the Oriental gods generally stayed out of the way of everything to do with Western Civilisation. Unlike the others, they'd chosen to stay in their home countries for the rest of their lives, and he could hardly blame them. So had the Norse. The only ones that had followed the Greeks were the Romans – too obvious, really – and the Egyptians. Now they had to be avoided.
'But she isn't an Egyptian,' something in the back of his mind told him, 'and even if she is, is it worth loosing a chance just because of your father, who broke his own oath about relationships?'
Okay, now the talking voice had a point. Even if talking voices were a sign of everything going wrong.
"Erm… Apollo? Are you alright?"
Apollo just shook his head, blond hair swishing in front of his eyes slightly. Talking a few steps forward, he brushed it back, but as he turned to face the girl, he froze. Beside the blonde-haired beauty was a boy, dark haired and pale skinned. If it wasn't for his height, he would have assumed that it was Nico di Angelo, that annoyingly naïve son of Hades who just so happened to save all of their butts in the middle of the war. He had the same look of pure death that the death god and his son often wore. But that wasn't the problem.
She had a hand on his forearm, and his had it the same way, like a barrier forcing them away from him. The things that had been scattered behind her – the signs and marker pens – had disappeared, but her other hand was pressed against her stomach. Hunger, if it had anything to do with the way the two of them were laughing.
The boy – because he couldn't be classed as a man, no matter how old he was – said something, and the girl laughed, nodding. He grabbed her by the hand, pulling her towards one of the alleyways. No matter how many times in how many lifetimes you lost the chance, it still made a hollow feeling in the pit of your stomach. If Apollo has the choice, he probably would have followed, but another hand appeared on his shoulder.
Hermes sighed. "Apollo… I didn't think that would happen."
He didn't respond. He couldn't. She was gone, swept away by the wonderfully exotic boy, who she was happy to laugh with and leave with. He'd finally gotten up the courage to ask her, and she was gone.
It was insanity.