Disclaimer: I don't own PJO/HOO.
The Councillors all knew the plan, and they were all ready to play their part in it. Everyone (save for Akantha and Hera, who were busy with Porphyrion and Ambrosio, of course) was at the WInter Solstice meeting.
In order to not tip off the Lord of the Skies as to their plans, they all acted normally. Poseidon and Zeus were arguing over what was better, sea or sky disasters, and Hestia was desperately trying to calm them down, as they had already created four storms in various areas between them, trying to 'prove their points'. Unfortunately, she was unsuccessful, as they couldn't hear her pleas to restrain themselves over the sounds of waves crashing wildly and the wind whipping about ferociously. Thankfully, Zeus was so intent on proving his superiority to his brother, he didn't even mention Akantha's absence, nor did he seem to mind the lack of his wife (and her nagging him on his lack of fidelity to her.)
Demeter was loudly berating Hades, bemoaning her 'poor' daughter's 'captivity', as well as insisting that Hades "do something about that disrespectful brat of a son that you have! He refuses, outright refuses, to eat any cereal! He eats those horrid MacDonald's meals instead. It isn't healthy. I bet that if we got him on a proper, fibre-based diet, he wouldn't be so rude and depressed looking all the time! Hades, are you listening to me? Hades! Listen to me!"
The god of the dead looked away from his phone screen and glanced at his sister/mother-in-law in a bored manner, his indifference to her ranting radiating from his casually slumped form. "Huh? I think Nico's diet is fine, Demeter. And so what if he likes dark colours? He is my son, after all. Don't worry about it."
"Oh!" she threw her hands up in the air and stamped her foot like a child holding a tantrum. "Hades you are impossible! My poor Kore, having to spend so much of her time dealing with you. I-"
Across the Hall of the Gods, Artemis and Aphrodite were also having a showdown, only it was a lot more physical than the other fights going on around the room.
It had started with an outwardly sweet, and truthfully almost cruel, comment from Aphrodite to Artemis about her maiden vow and the fact that she was a goddess of childbirth, despite having no children of her own. Artemis' temper, which had always been badly controlled, especially when it came to that topic, flared, and she snapped back that Aphrodite would know a lot about children, given she had so many that she couldn't even count them all, and that was just currently alive and claimed at Camp Half-Blood!
A few minutes and several more increasingly angry comments later, the two goddesses were rolling around on the marble floor. Artemis was currently sitting on Aphrodite's stomach, clutching her shoulders and using them to slam her head against the ground. Aphrodite, meanwhile, was somehow managing to repeatedly slap the goddess of the hunt across the face. In order to make sure that it really hurt, the love goddess had turned her hands into sharp talons with claws sticking out of the knuckles. As a result, gold ichor was flowing heavily from Aphrodite's head, and Artemis' cheeks were so damaged, she would have died if she were mortal.
Thankfully, the two fighters were both immortal, so no one was concerned. In fact, Hephaestus, Hermes and Apollo were standing back and watching.
"Fifty drachmae on Artemis," Hermes commented to his brothers. Hephaestus shot him a disgruntled look, due to the fact that he (as a good spouse should) was routing for Aphrodite.
"Double on my wife," he growled, adjusting the lenses on his video camera slightly, in order to get a better shot of Aphrodite pulling out a large chunk of Artemis' auburn hair. Catfights between the Goddess of Love and the Goddess of Maidenhood always got brilliant reviews from the critics who reviewed Hephaestus TV, and given the lack of drama lately (what with Olympus and its' residents all being under lockdown), he needed some new entertainment in order to get his reviews back up.
The one god who was having trouble keeping his anxiety about what was to come was Apollo. His usually bright blue eyes were almost navy they were so dark, and he was obviously distracted and lost in thought. He played with his bowstring as he stared at the wall with a heavy frown on his typically-cheerful features.
Hermes' grin faltered at the sight, though he truthfully wasn't very surprised. As the god of truth, Apollo was a terrible liar, and his status as god of the arts didn't help much with that.
"Well Apollo?" he asked boisterously, hoping that the sound of his voice would distract the sun god from his grim thoughts. "How much, and on which goddess?"
Apollo started and turned to them, forcing a smile that was a bare echo of his typically blinding beam. "One hundred on Arty, obviously," he declared brightly. "No one beats my baby sis at anything. 'cept for me with archery, of course."
Hermes snickered at that. "Better not say that to her face," he told him in amusement. "Castration might be the worst thing that she does to you, if she hears you say you're a better archer then she is."
Apollo shrugged, wearing a look of fake-innocence on his face as he forced himself to play his part in the drama. "I am the god of truth," he pointed out with a smug grin. "As such, I cannot lie, now can I?"
Hermes paused at that. Honestly, no one was sure about that, and Apollo never let on if it was an actual fact or not. Though he claimed it was regularly, if he was incapable of lying, how would they figure it out? He was the one who could detect lies, not any of them. On one hand, Apollo did tend to tell the truth more often than not, but sometimes, he said things that were so outrageous you couldn't think that they were anything except a lie.
Hermes was saved from having to reply by two bright flashes. When the light had faded, Hera and Akantha were standing in their place. Hera looked well-enough, given that she had spent the best part of two weeks in a cage, having her power sapped by the Earth Mother. Akantha, on the other hand, had clearly been in a battle, and taken severe damage during it. But, although all of them wanted to go and check her over, (especially Apollo and her father), their arrival was the signal to enact The Plan. The gods stopped their fighting, going serious and tensing up as they all turned to look at Zeus.
Zeus had been distracted by his wife and niece's abrupt arrival, and so he was unprepared for the golden net suddenly tossed over him by several gods. He squawked furiously, briefly flashing back to the first time this had happened, several centuries before Akantha had even been born, let alone become a goddess.
"How dare you?!" he boomed furiously. In the mortal world, five planes suddenly crashed, three tornadoes began without warning in various areas, and almost every state in America began suffering a series of Category Five storms, that would result in death tolls hitting the millions, as well as costing several million dollars in property damage.
"Uncle, my king, I hope that you will forgive us for this, eventually," Akantha said softly, stepping forward. "We are simply trying to save you from the malicious tricks of the Earth Mother and her servants. We do not seek to take your position from you."
He glared at her bitterly, ignoring her words. "You, Akantha?" he spat bitterly. "To think that I have been betrayed by the goddess of loyalty and honour, of all my subjects. I might have suspected this from one of them, but you! This, I could never have anticipated."
She flinched, glancing briefly at the ground before squaring her shoulders and meeting his gaze once again. "As I said, Your Majesty," she murmured. "We are not attempting a coup, we are trying to save you from Gaia's trap."
He growled furiously at her repeated claim. "She sleeps!" he insisted, causing his irritated brothers to roll their eyes. "And she will stay asleep, if we follow my plan!"
"She stirs, Husband," Hera replied, striding into the centre of his restricted vision. "I have only just been released from my capture by her minions, and I come bearing grave news." She paused, looking around to meet everyone's eyes, meeting Akantha's gaze last, before returning to meet her husband's storm-coloured eyes again, seriousness radiating from her slim form.
"Even if the Earth Mother remains asleep, for the moment," she emphasized that part firmly, making Zeus' scowl deepen. "Her children do not. Porphyrion has risen once again. He and his servants have declared their intention to 'destroy us at our roots,' to quote them directly."
A series of gasps went through the gods at that, many of their faces paling in horror at the implications of Hera's announcement.
"Yes," Akantha nodded, supporting Hera's claims. "The Gigantes, and their army, intend to make for the Ancient Lands. No doubt, they will attack Rome first, to weaken us, before going on to Mount Olympus. The original Mount Olympus."
"Impossible," Zeus denied, his expression stricken with the gravity of what his wife and advisor were saying. "Not even the giants would dare be so audacious as to attack us there."
All of them understood the subtext of what Akantha and Hera were saying. The gods all drew their power from several things. The beliefs of those who followed them, their domains and, finally Mount Olympus itself. But this particular Olympus, as well as its' predecessors, and the other magical places that had shifted with Western Civilization, took its' power from its' original home. If the original mountain was destroyed, so would they be.
"It is undefended, my lord," Akantha pointed out quietly. "As such, it is our most vulnerable point. In truth, they would be fools not to take advantage of it. Do you truly, truly and genuinely, believe that the Gigantes won't try to attack us? Even without their Mother urging them to? Truly?"
Zeus didn't reply for a moment. "Well," he said finally, anger darkening his expression. "I take it you have a plan then? Why not tell it to us? And how is causing a Civil War going to help us?"
Thalia groaned and stirred. Then she froze, because something was wrong. Her eyes snapped open, and she jumped to her feet with the ease of practice, scanning the area for threats. She frowned, because she had no idea where she was, other than the courtyard of a ruined building. That led her to another, even more important realization.
She didn't know who she was, either. Nor did she know why she was dressed in nothing but black jeans and a shirt saying 'Death to Barbie' with a doll that had an arrow stuck through its' head on, not even a pair of socks, let alone shoes to protect her toes from being sliced open by the stones on the ground. She definitely didn't know why she held a mace canister in one hand, and the other was automatically rubbing at a silver bracelet. The delicate piece of jewellery was not, she knew instinctively, her style. But it was also the most important part of her outfit, lacking though it was.
Her ink-black hair reached in tangled locks to past her shoulder-blades, like it hadn't been cut in months, and her side-bangs flopped into her eyes, obscuring her vision. She could feel the leaves and twigs entangled in it, supporting her conclusion that she had been sleeping in the woods for some time.
It seemed like summer, and she thought that she was probably on the east coast somewhere, for whatever reason, but her thin clothes gave little shelter from the biting, wet wind. It would rain soon. She shifted, a sense of 'danger!' crawling through her. She wasn't supposed to be here. This place was dangerous.
Why was she here, in the Dangerous Place, instead of, where? Where was she? Where was she supposed to be? Why wasn't she there, and why had she been sleeping the woods? What was going on? Who was she?
That was when the wolves came, and she summoned her spear and shield on instinct. She shifted into a fighting stance, and a thought occurred to her in the back of her mind.
Well, she thought to herself. That answers one question I have. I'm a warrior.