Hi! Here I am with chapter nine... even if it was supposed to come out this morning. Sorry. :) Besides, I didn't have as much focus on this story because of Mark of Athena feels... If you haven't read it yet, I will only say one thing; You'll probably need a box of tissues. And, you know, a quiet place where you can spazz out and cry in peace.
If you have read it... feel free to PM me to rant about the feels and potential speculations for the next book. I'm mostly sane now, though I keep getting a bunch of Percabeth feels at random times... and oddly enough, Percy/Sally motherly feels. I don't get that one. I think I'll write a one-shot when I've got this chapter out.
Also, I'm having Harry Potter feels too, because I just finished the sixth book and am suffering the agonizing wait until tomorrow when I get the Deathly Hallows from my English teacher. Once I finish it, expect Harry Potter fanfiction. The series is now rivaling Percy Jackson as my favorite books...
But one last thing, I changed the chapter titles of chapters 6-8 in this story. I wanted to make them a little less boring and repetitive. It's been bothering me for a little while.
Anyways, I hope you enjoy the chapter. :)
Disclaimer: I don't own PJATO. If I did, MoA wouldn't have ripped my heart out. It is a sad, sad time to be a hardcore Percabeth shipper...
And once again, always a thanks to SerendipityInSerendipity for the beta-reading.
- CHAPTER IX: A BIT OF HISTORY-
I had never felt so miserable in my entire life.
I had the Nike cabin all to myself—six steel bunks covered with golden and cream sheets, shiny golden floors, walls made of smooth stone, and not to mention a statue of the goddess herself staring at me from the opposite end of the cabin from the door. A wooden chest had been hauled in by a couple other kids and sat at the edge of my bed, full of all my worldly possessions—two changes of clothing, a toothbrush, a picture of my father, and a battered teddy bear that belonged to Kenny.
I'd spent the day following the Athena cabin around, feeling more lost than I could even understand. Apparently, Nike had such close ties with Athena that one of the statues of the wisdom goddess portrayed her holding my mother in her palm. So I was lumped together with them, constantly feeling embarrassed when I had to ask Annabeth to explain something strange to me. She didn't seem to mind—she actually told me I asked a lot less questions than most new campers—but I still couldn't help feeling completely alien.
Not to mention that I was also technically Nike's senior counselor, which didn't work when I had absolutely no idea what was going on.
Another thing that didn't really help my adjustment was the gnawing anger at my mother that still remained in my stomach. I had never liked her when she had refused to even admit her identity, but I seemed more determined to hate her when I had a name to her face. The goddess of victory, triumph. And boy, I was such a victory.
Whenever someone asked, "So you're the new daughter of Nike?" I almost wanted to say, "No, I'm Jake Hartford's daughter," but managed to bite my tongue. It probably wouldn't do me much good to be snippy with my fellow 'campers,' but gods I didn't want to be associated with the goddess who inadvertently killed my father. Especially not when she found four years later to be a good time to make it up to me. And the emptiness I still felt from losing Kenny...
On the other hand, my friends seemed to be adjusting well. Robert was getting along great with Lou Ellen—the kind, green-eyed girl with a short blonde bob who happened to be the senior counselor of the Hecate cabin. Emma seemed to be having a good time with the Demeter kids, though she didn't quite share some of their views on the importance of cereal. Aaron didn't even have to try to fit in with the Hermes kids, he was basically a duplicate of Travis and Connor Stoll.
So I could only nod and try to smile politely as the four of us sat on a bench right before curfew, and listened to the others rave about how great the camp was. It was impressive and a nice place—but my heart wasn't into it. I missed my brother too much.
"So how was your day, Nat?" Aaron asked once he'd stopped talking about how Travis was going to teach him how to pick a lock with just his brain-power.
I gave a small shrug. "Fine."
"Is that it?" he asked. "You've had to have done something interesting today."
I rubbed my face. "I... I dunno."
"What does the goddess Nike do again?" he asked, scratching the back of his neck. "I don't remember."
"She's the goddess of victory," I muttered. "Competitions. Battles. Things like that."
"So you're supposed to win at everything?" he asked. "Isn't that a bit of overkill?"
"I don't know," I admitted. "I don't have any other siblings to test the theory. Except..." I trailed off awkwardly, swallowing hard. Everyone else looked down a little.
"You know," Aaron said quietly, "you could probably pray to your mother for—"
"I'd rather cut off my own leg than pray to her," I said bitterly. Aaron and Emma looked a little surprised, but Robert just gave me a concerned look. But before either of them could ask questions, Katie Gardener from Demeter showed up, and Emma dragged Aaron off to meet her, claiming that she was a very nice person. That left Robert and me sitting alone on the bench.
He turned to face me and said softly, "Aaron does have a point, Nat."
I slumped down on the bench. "I don't care. Nike has already ruined my life once. I don't need her coming and screwing anything else up."
"It wasn't her fault your father acted the way he did," he said.
"She was the one who broke him," I said stubbornly.
"And he was the one who didn't see the good things in life anymore."
"I don't care."
He rocked back and forth slightly on the bench, studying my face as if he wasn't sure what to say to that. "Think about it this way, Nat. If your mother hadn't come back, would you have your little brother?" It was almost like I'd been slapped in the face. "I've seen the way you look at him. You care about him more than anything else. Or anyone else."
"And now he's g—" I started, but Robert cut me off.
"Yes he is," he said. "And you want to do everything in your power to get him back, don't you? Of course you do. He's all you have left."
My eyes stung slightly. "What are you trying to tell me?"
He stood. "It wouldn't be a shameful thing to ask your mother for help, Nat," he said. "Even if she's not allowed to show it, she has to care for you one way or another. And your brother."
He turned and walked away, leaving me sitting on the bench, sadder and more confused than ever. Why do I want to hate her so much?
That night, I couldn't sleep. I continued pacing the length of the cabin in the dark, pausing only during a deep thought and occasionally to throw a glance at the statue of my mother. Robert's words kept rolling over in my head. I didn't want to believe that it was my father's fault—that he just simply gave up the will to live. No, it was his fault. It couldn't have been. He wouldn't have just left me like that, would he?
I sat down hard on my bed, flipping open the trunk sloppily. I grabbed the photo out of the bottom, and sunk back into the pillows. It had been way too long since I'd had an actual bed, since the lumpy air-mattress in my uncle's house didn't really account for much.
The photo was worn and the edges were frayed—I'd looked at it almost every day until I was thirteen or fourteen, telling myself I'd never forget his face. He had the same light blonde hair and eyebrows as I did, and the same smile when he was feeling happy. The picture was of us right before my mother left the second time—we were all sitting on the couch, I was leaning into my father's shoulder and holding Kenny while his arm was around me. We were all smiling, except for Kenny, since he seemed amused with crossing his eyes and staring at his nose.
I ran my finger over my father's face, half of me wishing that I could actually touch him again, the other half of me wondering why I held onto this picture like a lifeline. Seeing his face was comforting and painful at the same time. And right now, the comfort overruled the pain. I needed to see something familiar at the moment. So I sat there, running my fingers over the photo, and trying to forget the morning's events.
I don't remember when I fell asleep, but I remember the dreams that I had.
I was eleven again, walking through our house with Kenny cradled in my arms. He was so tiny—just a little round face peeking out of the edge of the blankets I'd wrapped him in. He squirmed slightly in my arms as I walked out of the hallway and into the living room, where my father sat on the couch, his head in his hands.
He looked exhausted. There were purple bags the color of bruises under his eyes, and the skin around them was tinged red. He looked thinner and paler, much less like the strong, confident father that I was used to. His hair seemed to look almost gray.
I stood off the side a little bit, adjusting the baby in my arms. "Dad?"
He looked up at me. "Yes?"
"What are you doing?"
He took a moment to consider that. "Just resting a moment."
"You do that a lot."
There was a pause.
"Yes, I do."
"When are you going to make dinner? I'm hungry."
"You know how to use the microwave, Natalie." Natalie. Never Nat or Natty Girl like used to call me.
"But I want a real dinner tonight."
"Well, we don't always get what we want," he snapped. I stepped back slightly, and Kenny made a noise in my arms.
"A-are you mad at me?" I asked, not fully able to understand what was going on.
"No, no..." he said, slumping over a little. "I'm just tired. I'm sorry."
"You're always tired," I pointed out. "Why?"
He looked at me sharply. "Don't you have things to do, Natalie?"
"Why aren't you happy?" I asked, completely ignoring his question. "You don't smile anymore."
He sighed. "It's complicated."
"Life's complicated. Homework is complicated," I said. "But I'm happy."
He sank so low into the couch it looked like he was trying to disappear. "Go find something to do, Natalie."
"Okay."
The dream faded, but was replaced by a much different scene. I was in some sort of forest, drifting through the trees as I followed along in the wake a strange of creature. It was moving so fast I could only make out the flashes of gold—it jumped over roots and wound through branches and thorns effortlessly. It was kind of beautiful in a strange, lucid way, but that was mostly because I didn't really know what I was looking at.
The trees were thinning, becoming less and less close together at the edge of the forest. The creature broke through the tree line, and I was able to see what was beyond. There was an enormous lake—a seemingly never-ending expanse of clear blue water that continued all the way to the horizon. I got my first good look at the creature as it ran down next to the water.
It was even more beautiful up close.
It was an enormous deer—but not just any deer. It was made of complete, solid gold, with sparkling gold antlers and glittering ruby eyes. Its shiny golden coat threw beams of honey-colored light in all different directions, and its bronze hooves pounded against the grass as it ran faster than I'd thought anything could ever have run.
I vaguely remembered it from some myth, but I was too engrossed in watching it run to think about it or care. But the dream began to darken, and the image began to spin, making me fell dizzy and sick. A cold feeling closed around me as the dream winked out, making it almost impossible to breath. A cold bead of sweat trickled down my forehead.
Suddenly, I was staring at a wall of gray stone. I heard a muffled cry from behind me, and turned. I was inside of a large, square room that looked like it was carved from the face of a mountain itself. The stone was bubbling in the middle of the room, like it was slowly being melted from below. In the corner, a small figure was huddled, his hands and feet tied and a piece of cloth stuffed in his mouth.
Kenny.
His eyes were red, and he was shaking profusely, but he didn't appear to be harmed. I tried to move forward towards him, to hug him, to do something. But my body wouldn't respond to my thoughts, and I remained anchored in place. The bubbling became louder, and the stone swirled, creating the face of the same woman I'd seen Khione talking to—Gaea.
Her eyes were closed, and when she spoke, her lips didn't move. Her voice wrapped around me like ice. Bring it to me, child. Bring it to me...
"Bring what to you?" I practically shouted, my voice an octave higher than normal.
Gaea's face stretched into a sleepy smile. If you wish to see him again, bring it to me... bring it to me... bring it to me...
I woke when I toppled out of the bed and hit the floor. I twisted myself out of my sheets and stood up. I didn't fail to notice that my knees were knocking a little, and that my hands were shaking. That was like a double hit... my father and my brother all in the same night. I rubbed my eyes with the heel of my hand, and bent down to pick up the picture off the floor. My father's face still smiled up at me, and it felt like someone was poking my heart with an icicle.
I quickly shoved the picture into my pocket, slipping on shoes and grabbing a jacket. I trudged outside into the night, trying to clear my head and make sense of the string of dreams I'd just had. Bring it to me. Bring what to her? What could I have that she could possibly want? I didn't have anything valuable...
I shook my head slightly and thought about the deer. I tried to remember the myth... what was it called? Something that started with a c... the Ceryneian Hind. It was an animal sacred of Artemis, and one of the labors of Hercules. The deer that could outrun arrows... and Hercules had to capture it and bring it to—
I stopped suddenly in the middle of the grass. Bring it to me. The deer... Gaea wanted me to bring her a golden deer? What the heck could she do with a golden deer? Besides, couldn't she just swallow the creature up or something? She was the goddess of the Earth...
My train of thought was interrupted as someone ran into my back, knocking me flat over into the grass as he stumbled backwards. I wiped the dirt off my face as he rushed around the front, helping me up.
"Oh, Nat, I'm sorry!" Aaron. What was he doing up so late?
"I... I'm fine," I mumbled, drawing my arm out of his grip. "What are you doing up?"
"I should ask you the same question," he said, folding his arms. "Is that Robert's jacket?"
I looked down. "It is?"
He sighed. "Are you alright?"
"Yeah," I said. "You act like knocking me over into the grass would—"
"No," he interrupted. "You look like crap. What happened?"
"Um..." I murmured, trying to find and excuse for being so late at night. "I just... ah, needed to clear my head." The truth, but not all of it.
He looked at me for a second, that same grim expression he'd worn when Kenny had first disappeared. "Your brother?"
I looked at my shoes. "Kind of."
"I heard you muttering," he admitted. "Something about a deer and Hercules... Did you have a dream or something?"
"Er... maybe." Feeling the need to tell someone about my weird dream and the deer, I recounted my visit with Gaea and seeing my brother. I made sure to leave out the dream about my father.
He was quiet for a little while. "You weren't going to do something stupid, were you?"
"No," I said. "Why would you think that?"
He rubbed the back of his neck. "Well, you were up, wandering around alone in the middle of the night, for starters. And people tend to do reckless things when people they care about are in danger..."
"You sound like you speak from experience."
"Maybe I do."
I looked back up at him. "What do you mean?"
"You're meaning to tell me you haven't wondered how I ended up alone on the streets with Emma?" he asked. "Everyone starts out with family, you know."
"Well, maybe I have wondered some..." I muttered.
He stuffed his hands into his pockets. "I have a twin sister."
That was kind of a surprise. "You do?"
"Well, did, I suppose," he muttered. "Her name was Shelby. One day when we were thirteen, she just... didn't come home. You know they say that twins have that kind of instinct, say, like when the other's in danger? Well, it kind of felt like that. But I waited anyways, wondering if she just had gotten lost or something. But two weeks later... she still didn't come home. So I left home to look for her. Never found her. I just ended myself up homeless and alone, at least, until I met Emma."
I felt incredibly sad for him. He'd lost a sister just like I'd lost a brother. "But... didn't you have a mother? Couldn't you have just gone home?"
"I did," he said bitterly. "When I went back, she wasn't there. The house was empty, as if she had just... moved on. Maybe she thought we were both dead. I don't know."
An awkward silence settled over us. "So... you don't want me to make the same mistake."
"Yeah," he said. "Don't go alone. Don't act stupid. You'll be doing him more favors by coming prepared than just leaving quickly."
I nodded. "I just... I miss him a lot."
Aaron patted my shoulder. "And it'll be that much better when you get him back. Just get some sleep, okay? I'm sure you can tell the centaur guy what happened in the morning."
I stifled a snort. Centaur guy? "Alright. Thanks, Aaron."
"No problem," he said, and started to walk away, before turning back. "Oh, by the way, you dropped this." He handed me the picture of my father, turned and walked away, back towards the direction of the Hermes cabin.
I still wondered what he'd been doing up so late.
Okay! So yes, Aaron's backstory. Wow, I'm just full of sob stories, aren't I? I'll see if I can make Emma's much less unhappy, but it's pretty hard to write non-sad backstories for four children without parents anymore.
And we're getting to the point of her quest... wow, writing plot twists is going to be a pain in my behind. Oh well. I'll get through it. That's half the fun, right? :)
Anyways, if you need a good, healthy dose of humor and feels, feel free to visit my tumblr; my url is sallyjacksoning. Or if you need to fangirl/fanboy, like I said before, send a PM. We can cry over MoA together, guys.
Thanks for reading this far. Reviews are appreciated. :)
Also, I'm looking to change the title of my tumblr to something much less boring than 'Innoverse's Universe.' So if you have any ideas for cool titles, or references from books... feel free to stick it in your review somewhere. [Minor MoA spoiler, though it's pretty out-of-context] I was thinking of making it 'Never Again,' but then I'd murder my Percabeth feels every time I looked at my tumblr...
