Author: TippierCoffee

Disclaimer: I do not own — nor do I claim the rights to — the Percy Jackson universe or any of its characters. All credit goes to rightful owner, Mr. Rick Riordan.

WARNING: As this is a Cinderella-inspired AU, there will be depictions of abuse, both verbal, mental/emotional, and physical.

Routine.

Will Solace woke before the sun fully broke the horizon. The sky was painted violet and flaming pink. Birds chirped in the distance, and dew from the night's rain still clung to branches and leaves.

It was five thirty in the morning, and Will stretched his body. His muscles ached in that same dull way they always did — a slight buzz he'd grown so used to he hardly noticed it anymore — and his bones made popping noises. He sat up, cracked his neck, and let out a large yawn, staring at his roof-window. Droplets of rain still sat on the glass, thin and glittery. Will smiled at the sight.

Drops of rain hold tiny worlds, his mother had said once.

That was a long time ago, though, and he doubted the voice he heard in his head, when he thought of her, was actually hers.

He rolled out of his bed, the floor cold beneath his feet. He lived in the crammed attic, and had grown quite a bit since he first moved in at the age of ten. The ceiling was now so low he had to crane his neck a bit to the side in order to stand, which also meant he couldn't do a full body stretch in this room.

Will moved to the small dresser drawer he had, shoved into the opposite wall of the worn, damp mattress he slept on at night — the one he called a bed. He got dressed in his torn trousers, grey and full of dirt, and his worn T-shirt which might once have been white or beige, but Will honestly couldn't remember.

He opened the top window to let air into the stale room, and got in a few rain droplets as well, adding to the already damaged, creaking floor. One of these days it was going to crumble below him.

The house he lived in was a grand one. Two floors, seven separate rooms, and the attic. Two rooms were placed on the top floor, five on the bottom. There was a large field behind the house, and a lush garden in front of it. It was a cream-coloured building, simple walls and high marble pillars, a dark roof to top it off.

In the two rooms on the second floor, his step mom and step sisters resided. Each room was spacious, Will knew from the times he'd been in them. No mucky smell, room enough to prance and stretch, luxurious furniture. On the bottom floor they had a large kitchen, which Will was grateful for, a living room with a fire place, a grand library that no one ever used — so why they had it Will didn't know — his step mother's office, and a music room.

Will put on his torn slippers and went to the latch, lowering the ladder as quietly as possible. He stepped down onto the second floor, and walked down the narrow hallways with the low lights, stepping extra lightly when he passed the other's rooms. Autumn snored loudly, as per usual, and Will rolled his eyes. How the others managed to sleep with her chain-saw-snoring he would never understand.

He went down the stairs to the ground floor, and went straight for the glass door to the area behind the house. There, he put on his outdoor shoes, if they could be called shoes anymore, and stepped outside, grass peeking through to his feet through holes in the heels.

It was all routine by now. Open up the top doors to the horses' barn and say good morning to all four horses. He spent a little extra time with Chastity because she was his favourite, but the two of them never let the other three know.

He went in the chicken coop, chased out the chickens, cleaned out dirty hay, and picked up fresh eggs. Eggs into the kitchen, then get the wheelbarrow. Dirty hay into the wheelbarrow, wheelbarrow to the stables. He let the horses out to their outdoor area, and they whinnied in joy — at least he thought it was joy.

He watched them for a while with a fond smile on his face, calm setting over him.

How wonderful it must be to be free, he thought.

Will shook his head, blond locks teasing the top of his eyelids, and got to work. He cleaned out the dirty hay from the stables, wheeled the wheelbarrow to the decompose pile, and wheeled new, fresh hay to the horses and hens.

By the time he was done, he was already sweating. June's warm weather certainly didn't help. It was ten past six when he'd cleaned up enough to start breakfast, and ten to seven when it was done.

Wearing his slippers once more, he let his feet carry him back up stairs to his step mom's room. He'd lived here long enough to know routine and rules by now. First, he had to wake his step mom, then, feed her stupid cat who seemed to loathe him, and then he could wake up his sisters. They always made it down at least five minutes later than they were supposed to, on purpose, so their mom would have an excuse to reprimand Will with something bizarre.

Will knocked on his step mother's door four times. Light enough so she wouldn't think he was being aggressive or rude, but hard enough so she could hear it.

She didn't answer him. She never did on the first series of four knocks. So he knocked once more, then once again, before he entered.

Her room was painted a light blue, curtains draped around her large, comfortable-looking bed. She lay on piles and piles of soft silken pillows, her fat, lazy cat snoring in its basked covered with silken blankets. Even the cat had a better bed than Will, but Will knew much better than to complain.

He stepped over to her side, her raven hair a mess around her ageing face. There were once streaks of grey in it, then she had it dyed. She was obsessed with youth, so she concealed any possible sign of ageing. Make-up, hair dyes, odd diets, corsets which were probably too small for her — not to mention bad for her bones. It was all part of her obsession, and Will never commented negatively on it. He knew better than that.

"Lilith?" he checked his hands were clean before he shook her gently. "Lilith?"

She opened her eyes and groaned at him. "What do you want this time, Filth?"

"I just want to inform you, My Lady, it is five to seven, and breakfast is ready downstairs. I made sure to make My Lady's favourite egg salad bowl, as your new diet suggests."

She considered him for a moment, her dark eyes cold and judging. "Good to hear you have some intelligence in that head of yours, Boy. Now go wake your sisters."

"Yes, My Lady," Will bowed to her, for good measure. "What about the cat?"

"The what?" her eyes grew colder still, a disgusted sneer crossing her face.

"What I meant to say, was, what about Mr. Charles, My Lady?"

"Let him sleep in today. Now go wake your sisters, you incompetent fool!" Will bowed his head to her again, and headed down the hall.

This was the part he loathed every morning, but on the bright side, he got to exercise trying to get his sisters to cooperate with him. He knocked on their door, the same way he'd knocked on Lilith's.

"Summer? Autumn?" he spoke as he entered the room. They made no sound, and did not stir. He walked to the grand window and pulled their curtains, letting in the summer sun. "It's time to wake up now. Breakfast is ready downstairs."

Summer let out a shriek and threw a pillow after him. He stepped back and ended by Autumn's bed, looking down at her. Both sisters had the same, cold, dark eyes as their mother, and the same raven hair. Tar against pale skin.

"Good morning, Autumn," he tried a friendly smile, stepping back. "It's time to get up. Breakfast is ready downstairs."

"See if I care, Orphan," she sneered.

This made Summer laugh out loud. "You mean: Unlovable Orphan."

Both girls laughed, and Will lowered his head, breathing in through his nose.

He knew better. He knew the truth. He knew he was an orphan only because his parents loved him. They'd given him up with great hopes. If they knew where their good intentions had ended him… no. They would never know, he'd make sure.

"Please," he looked from one sister to the other. "Would it kill you to be nice to me just once?"

"Let's see," Autumn put a finger to her chin, pretending to ponder. "Yes," and with that she slumped back in bed.

Will guided his breath deep into his stomach, keeping up a pleasant face for them. Summer had shut her eyes tight in protest, and Autumn sat herself comfortably against the head of her bead, looking at him with cruel mischief in her eyes.

"Go on," Autumn said. "You're supposed to wake us, aren't you?"

Will gave her a smile and went over to Summer, but as soon as he got close enough, she threw everything in proximity towards him. Pillows, empty make-up cases, silver jewellery, a pot he had to catch so it wouldn't break, and a nail file. Autumn joined soon after, both girls laughing in glee as Will had to dodge objects while still trying to get them to cooperate with him.

"Please," he tried. "I made your favourite today. Please get dressed and go downstairs. Isn't today music day as well?"

"Please," Summer mimicked him, getting up to poke him in the chest as she spoke. "Don't even try with me, Orphan. You're disgusting. I bet you burnt the food or something."

"I promise I didn't."

"I promised I didn't. Shut up," she slapped him across the face. "I didn't ask for your opinion. Now scram!" she all but threw him out of their room, both of them laughing hysterically as his back collided with the wall. His step mother went out into the hallway.

She looked at him with a sneer, as though he'd told her the best morbid joke she'd ever heard. "I expect them to be down ten past seven, as usual, Will. Do not disappoint me this time."

"Yes, My Lady. I won't."

"I won't get my hopes up," she scoffed. "You're incompetent, after all."

"Yes, My Lady."

Will wasn't sure how he got any of the twins convinced to go downstairs for breakfast, but somehow he did. They got dressed, had him comb their hair and put it up — Summer wanted a high bun, Autumn wanted French braids — and made it to breakfast a whole ten minutes late.

Well, great, Will thought. This would put him behind schedule; again.

"Well, well, well," Lilith sang when they joined the table, an evil gleam in her eyes. "Look at that. The incompetent orphan finally got my daughters down for breakfast. But, my, my, will you look at the time? It says twenty past seven, not ten past seven. I thought you said you'd get them down on time, Filth?"

"I know, My Lady, but—"

"But?" she stood up, Summer and Autumn laughing behind their hands as they ate their breakfast. "No but's, you incompetent fool. We said on time. You specifically promised me, and you failed. Again. I shouldn't be surprised by this point that you can do nothing right. Can't think for yourself either, can you, you brain-dead retard. I should hand you over to a place for the mentally retarded, you'd fit in perfectly there. Can't even do single tasks. Disgrace."

"Ew!" Autumn whined. "Ma! My breakfast is cold."

Lilith narrowed her eyes at Will, as if it was his fault. It wasn't. If Autumn and Summer had gotten out of bed and dressed right away, their breakfast wouldn't be cold. This wasn't fair! Then again, when was it ever?

"Her breakfast is cold, Will."

"I—" Will decided to defend himself. "If they'd just gotten out of bed when I asked them nicely, their breakfast wouldn't be cold. It's their own fault for not getting up on time!"

Lilith's eyes hardened even more — if that was possible — and Will knew at that point he had overstepped his boundaries. She stood up, a storm brewing in her eyes, her face contorted with rage. She was a typhoon, meant to destroy and tear things up at their roots, and she came straight for Will and took his arm in an iron grip, her long fingernails digging into his skin and drawing blood. It stung like nothing else, but Will wouldn't give her the satisfaction of seeing him cry. He never would.

She threw him to the floor, and he only just got to put his hands in front of him to protect himself, and before he knew of it, Lilith pulled him through the kitchen-dining room by his hair, to that one room below the stairs that was hardly a room at all.

Will wanted to squirm, he really did, but that'd just make it hurt even more. Autumn and Summer followed behind him, yelling in glee and sing-song-voices.

"He's going to the naughty-room, he's going to the naughty-room."

There was a click, and a creak, as the small door was pulled open, and then Lilith threw Will into the room below the stairs.

Dark, no air, no space. He curled into a ball to protect himself from the door slamming in his face. He hardly fit in here anymore, and the door got locked from the outside.

Only when the laughter and insults ceased, leaving silence in their place, Will allow himself to cry.

Quick A/N: Some of you may be new to my writing here, so I'll tell you up front. I do not update regularly. In fact, sometimes months will pass between updates because I'm studying to be a school teacher, and I put my studies before anything else, so I don't always have time for fanfiction updates. I also work a lot on my original writing at the moment, but I do try to update as much as possible, and I do have intentions of finishing what I start.

Criticism and/or advice on improvement is always welcome and highly appreciated.

~*~TippierCoffee~*~