There's Nothing Sweeter
Disclaimer: I don't own 'Harry Potter' or 'Percy Jackson'. All recognisable characters, content or locations belong to their respective owners. No copyright infringement intended.
Chapter Four:
At the campfire, Gwen watched, briefly, as Michael Yew, or Mick as Gwen had come to know him, tuned his guitar strings by ear. His expression was light, an easy going smile on his face as he chatted with one of his brothers and All the while, his fingers expertly twisted the tuning pegs of his Gibson acoustic, and strummed it's strings, and Gwen wished she could be even minutely as talented as the children of Apollo. But then Lee Fletcher settled beside her, and the Stoll twins skulked away, and Michael Yew's guitar hands were far from her mind.
"Will you be stargazing tonight?" Lee queried, lazy smile on his face. The resemblance to his younger brother was uncanny, but there were differences, too, in the slope of their eyebrows, in the lopsided quirk to Lee's smile. Mick had a dimple in his chin, and Lee had a light dusting of freckles on the bridge of his nose. It was little things, but it was differentiation enough.
Gwen nodded without hesitation, that familiar thrill of excitement, and danger, and rebellion coursing through her veins. It made her grin. "I wouldn't miss it."
"Awesome," Lee acknowledged, knelt back on his hands and watched his brother, that same easy smile on his face. "You'd never guess it, but Mickey never fails to get nervous about these things. He's more the brooding artist than the dramatic theatre student, you know?"
"I do now," Gwen answered, "Met Mick last night while we were stargazing. He seems an alright chap."
"He's pretty awesome," Lee agreed. "Not as awesome as I am though."
"Sure of that?" Gwen teased.
"Are you questioning my awesomeness?"
"Are you offended?"
"Why yes, yes I am." Lee had tried for an expression of supreme insult, but he instead somehow managed an expression of extreme constipation. Gwen snorted at the sight and laughed, and Lee, after hearing the sound, laughed too, a low, husky chuckle that sent delicious shivers right through her. All the while, Mick sang to a silent audience, his mildly husky tenor almost perfect for Angus Stone's 'Just a BOy'. He and Lee's younger brother, Austen, played the harmonica and Gwen sighed, wistful.
"What's up?" Lee queried.
"Nothing," she answered, accompanied by a flippant wave of her hand, "I just wish I was musically talented."
"You ever played an instrument?"
"Does the recorder count?"
"Gods, ever mention that creation of Tartarus to my face again, and I won't be held accountable for my actions."
Gwen let out a surprised laugh, not having expected a response like that from the cabin seven counsellor, and she happily offered a high five, suitably impressed.
"In all seriousness though, yes, I made an attempt at the piano when I was younger. it was bad. Like dying hyena kind of bad."
He shrugged, apparently unfazed. "I guess music's not for everyone, but if you ever want to learn, I play the guitar, the piano and the cello. I'd be happy to teach you."
Gwen smiled her thanks, but had to decline. "With everything I'll already be learning this summer, I don't think I can handle another project on top of it all. I do appreciate the offer though."
Lee nodded his understanding, gave Gwen a mischievous grin and queried, "Shall we go stargazing then?"
"That sounds like a plan, Mr Fletcher."
Lee led the way to the Demeter cabin roof, where Caster and Pollux had covetously claimed a vaporiser, where Silena was sprawled across the grass with Clarisse, tracing constellations in the sky, where Travis and Connor had produced a jumbo bag of Hershey's Kisses and where they all looked well and truly baked, despite the fact it had only been half an hour since Mick had started his performance. Gwen laughed at the sight, dropped onto the grass beside Silena and accepted the blunt from Lee when it was offered to her.
"When was the first time you smoked pot?"
Gwen glanced at Lee and answered, "Honestly? I was thirteen. Marijuana is part of our Potions kits and my friends and I were curious, so.."
"Badass," Travis commended. They fist bumped, Gwen grinned and tried to think of a time when she'd smiled so much, and eventually failed in the endeavour. Gwen had never been so happy in her life, and she wondered how long it would take for the other shoe to drop.
"Did you get caught?" Silena queried.
"No," Gwen replied, "Hogwarts has a lot of secrets."
"I've heard that," Lee acknowledged, "But then, a castle that old has to have acquired some form of sentience."
Gwen only hummed, not particularly interested in the turn their conversation had taken. The principles of magic was more Hermione Granger's field of expertise, Gwen would always prefer the practical side of things, but as she rolled over onto her belly and kicked her feet into the air, Gwen pushed thoughts of Hermione out of her mind. The girl had turned her back on Neville, had chosen Ron over their best friend when he'd needed them most, and that, in Gwen's mind, was unforgivable.
"Dude, you're the only one interested in alive castles," Pollux said flatly, and Lee shrugged, unfazed. he took a drag of the blunt he'd rolled, blew the smoke into the sky and handed the joint to Gwen, another lazy smile on his face. He seemed to be always smiling, always happy, and Gwen wondered if he was perpetually stoned, or faking it, or if he was actually that cheerful. Either way, it was an ability Gwen didn't possess, and for that, she envied him.
She would always want what she couldn't have: parents, a place to call home, a bad ass vaporiser like the one being zealously guarded by the Dionysus twins. It was apparently just human nature, but it was a personality trait of hers the witch couldn't stand and thus, one she was constantly aware of.
"Where's Chuck tonight?"
"Didn't feel like stargazing tonight," Silena pouted, "Which is so lame."
"Poor Sil can't get her Beckendorf cuddles tonight," Clarisse mocked, and the boys present pretended to gag. Silena punched Clarisse in one of Aries' daughter's meaty arms, Gwen gave an uninhibited grin, all mirth and pearly teeth. Her glaze eyes glimmered like the stars in the sky, her laugh rang bubbly and free, and Gwen revelled in this moment, certain it wouldn't last.
In the morning, after her exercise regime and shower, Gwen dressed herself in a pair of leggings and another of her Camp Halfblood tank tops, fell into the Hermes procession and made idle chit chat with a bleary eyed Percy all the way to the Hermes table. She served her food, made her offerings and settled across the table from Alabaster Torrington, whom, unsurprisingly, made no acknowledgement of her presence in front of him, the wanker.
Gwen pondered over all the ways she should address him, because she doubted 'Oi, Wanker,' would go down well, but evidently her absentminded staring had done the trick, because halfway through his bowl of muesli, the son of Hecate looked up and plainly glared at Gwen, as though she were at fault for all of the problems in his life. Git.
"Can I help you?" He asked roughly, apparently not interested in maintaining even a semblance of politeness, but after having to put up with Draco Malfoy while 'dating' Blaise Zabini last year, Gwen could work with that.
"Yes," Gwen answered, and then proceeded to grill him for answers regarding battle magic a la Hermione Granger until breakfast had finally come to an end. She was pretty sure he'd never willingly approach her again afterwards, but as Gwen made her way to the combat arena for her first lesson in hand to hand combat, a smirk on her face and Clarisse by her side, Gwen could freely admit that she did not have a problem with that outcome in the slightest. In fact, it was more than she'd been hoping for.
"What's got you so pleased, Shorty?" Clarisse asked, "You look like the cat who ate the canary."
"Nothing," Gwen answered, falling into a basic Tai Chi routine to stretch out her muscles. "It's just always fun to rile people up. I think I have a brand new favourite target."
"Torrington? He could make your life miserable with that magic of his."
"Meh, what he doesn't know won't hurt him. Besides, he's an arse."
"Most of us are," Clarisse commented, "But yeah, Torrington is a particular brand of douchebag. Are you ready?"
Gwen nodded, and for the next hour, Clarisse mercilessly ran Gwen through a series of basic defensive formations that had Gwen's muscles aching, her heart racing and her limbs leaden. it was productive though, and Gwen promised herself to practise until they'd been ingrained into her muscle memory, regardless of how arduous the task would turn out to be.
"We'll be working on those defences for a week," Clarisse informed the British girl, "I want it to be second nature, okay? I know its tough, but I think you're good people, and if this can save your life, you bet your ass I'm going to be brutal."
"I know," Gwen answered, entirely confident, "And I appreciate it."
They walked towards the archery range, where Gwen caught sight of Lee, alone, methodically pull an arrow from his quiver, notch it on his bow, aim and release. It was all so fluid, without a moment's hesitation, and Gwen marvelled at the skill he displayed.
"I'd better go," Clarisse informed Gwen, "Chase is bringing the Jackson kid to the combat arena so I can kick his ass."
"Have fun," Gwen acknowledged, "And don't go easy on him. He doesn't need pity."
""Aye aye," Clarisse mock saluted and returned the way they'd come. Gwen watched her go for a moment, shrugged, and approached Lee with crunching footsteps. Might as well alert him of her presence, after all.
"Hello," she greeted, "How did archery with Percy go?"
Lee grimaced. "It was… pretty bad. I mean, damn, I didn't know someone could be…"
He shook his head and Gwen shrugged, not really bothered either way. Archery wasn't for everyone, after all, and Percy hadn't seemed particularly enthused about it over breakfast. Then again, that wasn't really saying much, since the only enthusiasm she'd seen in the runt was when he'd been offered some of her blue M 'n' M's the night before.
"Anyway," Lee shook himself, "Are you ready for some archery?"
"Sure," she agreed, accepted the bow he offered her and raised it the way Chiron had taught her the day before. Lee straightened her elbow and shifted her stance, but when he instructed Gwen to pull back on the string and hold it taut, Gwen was ready to start throwing punches. On top of her training session with Clarisse, and her exercise regime that morning - six mile run, 60 push ups, 60 sit ups, sixty pull ups and sixty squats - Lee's exercises to strengthen her archery muscles left her arms the consistency of jelly and what have you.
"I really hate you right now," she informed him bluntly. Lee had called a break for Gwen to rest her arm, and Gwen had used it to shamelessly guzzle down an entire bottle of water, but he'd beckoned her back to her borrowed bow and quiver, and Gwen couldn't help but be honest. Brutally so.
"If it will save your life, than hate me all you want," Lee answered, a grim kind of frown on his face. It was out of place there, and Gwen was oddly perturbed by its appearance. In the few days she'd known him, she'd not known him to look, or act, so serious.
"Yeah," Gwen acknowledged, mirthless tilt to her lips that wasn't a smile, "Clarisse said something similar."
With a weary groan, Gwen raised the bow and pulled back her arm, and tried to think up the right words to say what was on her mind. She couldn't though, because she'd never really spoken about the 'adventures' she'd gone on with Neville, the danger she'd found herself in, the ridiculous number of instances she'd found that her life was that floes to ending. It had always just been, never spoken about, but always known, and how could she really express all of that in words? But then again, Gwen didn't think she wanted to say all of that. She wanted to say something though, but the words were lost to her, and as the conch shell sounded across the campgrounds, so too was the opportunity to do so.
Author's Note: Reviews are love. -t.