There's Nothing Sweeter
Disclaimer: I own neither 'Harry Potter' or 'Percy Jackson'. All recognisable characters, content or locations belong to their respective owners. No copyright infringement intended.
Chapter Seven:
On Sunday evening, as the sun painted the sky a colourful array of pastel orange, and pink, and yellow, Gwen was settled at the base of Thalia's tree, having approached the towering pine in search of peace, and quiet, and some alone time to think. She'd spent the day with her new friends, and Lee had somehow gotten Gwen to learn a few chords on his guitar, but as the sun had begun it's descent towards the western horizon, the witch had been struck by a bout of melancholy, and had since disappeared for the afore mentioned time alone.
With a gusty sigh, Gwen dropped her head backwards, to hit the dried bark of Thalia's tree with a quiet thump. She closed her eyes, hummed quietly to herself, and if she tried hard enough, she could almost imagine the Grace daughter beside her, providing comfort that Gwen hadn't realised she'd needed.
Her arrival at Camp Halfblood had been succeeded by a whirlwind week, and through it all, Gwen hadn't had the opportunity to just sit, and think, and reflect upon all that had happened to her since her departure from Hogwarts. She suddenly had a family, and new friends, and the threat to her life had all at once become far more than just a vague, indistinct understanding that she and her parents had made dangerous and powerful enemies, none of whom would hesitate to take her out in some demented form of vengeance.
It wasn't like Neville, who'd inadvertently made it on top of VOldemort's hit list when, by way of his mother's sacrifice, he had brought Voldemort to a temporary defeat. All the same, the Potter family was somewhere up there with the Longbottom heir and Dumbledore, all because of their contributions during the first war. Gwen had no doubt that, as soon as he could, the snake eyed tosser would send his strongest lieutenants to put her out, a symbol of power and defiance against his authority. He'd done the same with she and Neville's respective parents after all, and the way things were going, history was bound to repeat itself.
Gwen had been mentally and physically preparing for that inevitable encounter since the end of her first year at Hogwarts School, when she and Neville had received the horrifying confirmation of Voldemort's impending return to power. In all actuality, there was a part of her that eagerly anticipated that day, when she could finally avenge the parents she'd never gotten the chance to know. That part of her was angry, and malicious, and full of an undying hatred that sometimes scared her, but as a gentle breeze fanned across her face, Gwen's mind wandered, to the threat of an entirely different sort.
Thalia had die because Hades was angry that Zeus had broken the oath, and Gwen had no doubt that as soon as she stepped out of the camp's borders, Hades' monsters would be all over the second daughter of Zeus like white on rice. Besides that, there was a darkness stirring far from here, ageless and timeless, and far more sinister than Voldemort could ever hope to be. Zeus and Poseidon were also arguing, and the older campers predicted that war would break out any day now.
It was a miserable thought, but if the weather patterns were anything to go by, it was also not a far stretch to be believed.
Gwen shredded a blade of grass, stared up at the sky and tried to find the strength within herself to survive a war on two different fronts. She felt tired though, as if she'd already lived three lifetimes, and her well of courage in the face of unbelievable odds was hard to find. She wasn't like Neville, whose unfailing optimism could light up the direst of circumstances. She was realistic, and cynical, with a bitterness born of too much disappointment in one lifetime, and a certain grit brought about by too much tragedy for one so young.
"Gwen?"
Surprised by the intrusion to her alone time, Gwen glanced up and smiled, unable to do much else at the sight of Percy, who still wore a cloak of grief around him so thick it was nearly tangible. She couldn't blame him, mind you, but she was glad to see him making an effort to socialise despite the loss of his mother.
"Hullo, Percy," she greeted, "What can I do for you?"
"Nothing," he answered, "You're just one of the few people here who treat me like a normal human being. I saw you up hear, figured I might join you, if that's okay?"
"That's just fine, percy," Gwen answered, soft, tired smile on her face. "I just needed to get away for a while, you understand?"
Percy nodded, and the expression on his face, far too old for one so young, told Gwen he knew exactly what she meant. "Is everything okay?"
"No, Percy," she replied honestly, wearily, and the evening sun was a sweet embrace against her skin. "Nothing's ever going to be okay again."
Maybe her words were prophetic, or an omen, or maybe it was just a coincidence, but when Gwen and Percy were called to the big blue house after breakfast the next morning, Gwen went with the indisputable feeling that things were about to change all over again. Her arms were crossed over her modest chest, her hair was in its usual, haphazard braid and Gwen waited in an expectant silence beside Percy, too anxious to be irked by the fact that Mr D and Chiron still persisted on continuing their ridiculous game of pinochle.
"
In the days since she and Percy had been claimed, Gwen had been expecting a summons from Chiron and/or Mr D, in response to the matter of their continued existence when neither of them should have even been born. She imagined that the other gods had been arguing whether or not they should be smote down where they stood, but as the witch awaited the verdict, entirely prepared to make an escape with Percy if at all necessary, she asked herself if she really wanted to hear what the Olympians had to say.
"Our new… celebrities."
Gwen grimaced, struck by a bout of deja vu and the fleeting image of Professor Snape in her mind's eye, hook nose, greasy hair and malevolent, obsidian eyes. She cast her gaze over the camp, curiously eyed the growing storm clouds overhead and then watched her fellow campers, all of whom continuously flicked their attention upwards, to the brewing tempest set to fall over them.
"Can't say I'm surprised," Dionysus mused, "Neither of them could really keep it in their pants, as the saying goes."
Thunder boomed, lightning cracked, and against the porch's railing, Grover bleated his anxiety. Gwen herself grimaced and Percy flinched, but Mr D was entirely unfazed.
"Blah, blah, blah," he acknowledged with a flippant wave of his hand, and Chiron feigned interest in the hand of cards he'd been dealt.
Mr D continued, "If I had my way, I would cause your molecules to erupt in flames. We'd sweep up the ashes and be done with a lot of trouble. Chiron, however, seems to think this would go against my task at this accursed camp, to keep you brats safe from harm."
Unsure of whom that was addressed to, Gwen looked to Chiron for answers, but the old centaur wasn't much help on the matter of clearing that up.
"Spontaneous combustion is a form of harm, Mr D," he interjected mildly, and Gwen wondered bitterly if he was at all fazed by the fact that they were talking about the two demigods' would-be fate.
"Nonsense," Dionysus answered, "They wouldn't feel a thing."
"That's comforting," Gwen muttered sardonically, but she was ignored.
"Mr D," Chiron warned, still in that same mild tone of his.
"Oh, alright," Dionysus relented, "There's one more option, but it's absolute foolishness."
The God of Wine and Madness got to his feet, dropped his hand of cards and continued speaking. "I'm off to Olympus for another emergency meeting. If the boy's still here when I get back, I'll turn them both into animals."
As she watched Dionysus do his transport trick, Gwen didn't relax until he was well and truly out of sight, with only the lingering scent of grapes, and his carelessly dropped hand of cards, the only indication he'd been there at all.
"Take a seat, the both of you, and Grover."
Gwen reluctantly acquiesced, piled the deck of cards together and began to shuffle them, anxious and in need of something to do with her hands. She was irritated too, her temper bubbling beneath the surface of glaze eyes turning blue. They never failed to change with the weather, green for clear days, grey for overcast, blue for storms, glaze for when the weather itself was shifting, but as Chiron caught their attention, it was something Gwen put out of her mind.
"Tell me, what did you make of the hellhound?
Percy shuddered in remembrance of that malignant gaze fixated solely on him, Gwen grimaced at the reminder of that entire night, and Chiron nodded to himself, apparently not at all surprised.
"It scared me," Percy admitted, "If Gwen hadn't been there…"
In truth, Gwen had been scared shitless, but the sight of percy, sheltered, defenceless percy, had triggered her saving people thing, and she'd responded accordingly, heedless of any instinctive response to fly the fuck away from the danger. It wasn't anything new - Gwen, a Gryffindor for a reason, had become well acquainted with ignoring her self-preservation instincts, but to admit any of that would confirm weakness, and in front of Chiron - a relative unknown - that was just not going to happen. Ever.
"Don't think like that, Nemo, it will get you nowhere fast." She turned to Chiron. "Why do you ask?"
Chiron's smile was old, and sad, and full of centuries of wisdom, and a pain Gwen couldn't begin to understand. "You'll meet worse, far worse, before you're done."
"Done…" Percy trailed off, confused, and wary, "With what?"
Again, thunder boomed, lightning arced across the sky, and Gwen closed her eyes, energised despite what the storm represented. She loved storms, would live and breathe them if she had the chance, but as Chiron spoke again, her attention was brought back to the matter at hand.
She continued to shuffle the cards.
"Your quest, of course," Chiron answered, as though it were the most obvious thing imaginable. Perhaps it was. He looked between them, though his attention was mostly on Percy. "Will you accept it?"
At the railing, Grover was crossing his fingers, expression painfully hopeful. She was aware that Grover would only get his seeker's license if he successfully guided Percy through a quest, but Gwen thought it was a little inconsiderate of the satyr, given all of the dangers Percy would meet on the way. The son of Poseidon had known he was a demigod for only a week, after all. He was not at all prepared for this bullshit.
"Um, sir, you haven't told me what it is yet," Percy observed, and Gwen breathed an inaudible sigh of relief. At least he wasn't as much a fool's rush in type, like Neville.
Chiron winced. "That's the hard part, the details."
At the far end of the camp ground, where the beach met land, it almost appeared as though the sky and sea had collided, a chaotic whirl of wind, and rain, and enormously tall waves as thunder rattled windowpanes and lightning streaked across charcoal coloured storm clouds.
"Poseidon and Zeus," Percy said definitively, "They're fighting over something valuable, something that was stolen, aren't they?"
Chiron sat forward in his wheelchair, eyes hard, sharp, fixated solely on Percy. "How did you know that?"
Gwen observed the following proceedings absentmindedly, not particularly interested in Percy's demigod dreams or America's weather patterns. Apparently though, Zeus and Poseidon had been arguing since Yule, over something that was stolen, and it also happened to be their worst quarrel in centuries.
"I knew it," Grover muttered, still at his place beside the rails. Chiron reprimanded him for his efforts. The satyr persisted anyway. "But it's his quest. It must be."
"Only the oracle can determine," Chiron insisted, "But you are correct, Percius, they are quarrelling over something that has been stolen. Specifically, a lightning bolt."
Gwen's hands stilled in their shuffling and she arched an eyebrow, not having expected that. Similarly, Percy's laugh was awkward - forced. He probably didn't anticipate having to retrieve a goddamn lightning bolt, of all things. Gwen knew her Greek mythology though, Sirius having had insisted she learn them back to front, upside down and inside out for as long as she'd known him. She knew exactly what had been taken.
"How the flying fuck does he lose that?" She incredulously asked herself, as Chiron informed a wide eyed Percy of what the lightning bolt was.
"Oh," Percy acknowledged monotonously, but Chiron had gathered steam and he continued his heartened spiel. Gwen cynically wondered how long he'd been rehearsing it for.
"Zeus' master bolt, the symbol of his power, from which all other lightning bolts are patterned. The first weapon made by the cyclopes for the war against the titans, the bolt that sheared the top of Mount Etna, and hurled Kronos off his throne. The master bolt, which packs enough fire power to make mortal hydrogen bombs look like firecrackers."
The discussion continued, the explanation of Percy's unwitting involvement in all this drama was revealed, Gwen grew steadily more irked by Zeus' paranoia and wild accusations, Percy grew steadily more panicked, and by the time Percy raised the question of whether or not Poseidon actually arranged the theft of Zeus' master bolt, Gwen was ready to leave.
Chiron sighed, weary. "Most thinking observers would agree that thievery is not Poseidon's style, but the Sea God is too proud to try convince Zeus of that. Zeus has demanded that Poseidon return the bolt by the summer solstice. That's June 21st, ten days from now. Poseidon wants an apology for being called a thief by the same date. I hoped that diplomacy would prevail, but alas, your and Gwen's arrival eradicated any chance of such a resolution. Now, unless someone intervenes - unless the master bolt is returned to Zeus - there will be war."
He continued, outline the consequences of such an outcome, and Gwen could just imagine it, countries torn asunder, thousands, maybe even millions of lives lost. What were the insignificant lives of mortals, after all, when the matter of divine pride was at stake?
Gwen might have sneered at the thought, but as things were, she was skirting on thin ice already, and she didn't particularly need any more reason to have the matter of her continued existence questioned further. She enjoyed being alive, thank you very much.
Suffice to say, however, Gwen wasn't particularly inclined towards the Olympians and in truth, she wished she'd never learned of their continued existence. She'd been happy in the ignorant belief that they were all simply myths, legends passed on throughout the centuries, nothing more than remnants of an age long gone. She had been accepting of the knowledge that her parents were mad, that Voldemort and his lieutenants would one day come after her, but as Chiron brought up the matter of the quest, the witch recognised that it was just a reality she'd have to come to terms with, lest the bitterness tear her up inside.
"Do you agree then?" Chiron questioned, "Will you take up the quest?"
Percy looked at Grover, who nodded his encouragement, but then he looked to Gwen, and she shrugged, unable to say no, but neither able to say yes. She could only imagine Percy's death with either option, by Zeus, or Hades, or someone else entirely. She had grown fond of the runt though, and the thought of his death pained her, and therefore, the witch could neither support or encourage him.
It seemed a matter of a rock and a hard place though, so Gwen wasn't particularly surprised when Percy agreed. She was sad though, sad and resigned, and she watched him enter the big blue house with a heavy heart, and the unspoken, morbid question of whether or not the boy would see his next birthday. She hoped fervently that the answer was yes, but as things were, Gwen was realistic enough not to hold her breath. But then she collected herself and turned to the activities coordinator, cobalt gaze resolute.
"Why am I here, Chiron?"
Author's Note: Please be aware that some of the content in this chapter was copied and/or paraphrased from 'The Ever Twisting Wind: The Lightning Thief' with every hope that the content from there, in turn, was copied from canon. if this is not the case, and I've copied from the author, than I apologise. A lot.
