Hi guys!

Hope you like this Chapter!

As I said on my previous Chapter's Author's Note, with school work, the updates will probably be a little bit irregular. I'm sorry for that. But I'll try. At least I'll give you that.

Special thanks to whoever Reviewed, Favorited and/or Followed. Especially Solangeluna. Thank you for saying such nice things. You made my day!

Anyway, in a review about the last Chapter, carolzocas asked: "Deuses do Olimpo e outra divindade celestiais! Isto sim é um freaking crossover! Ahah. E eu vou definitivamente imaginar o Thor como o Chris Hemsworth. Adoro-o! Ahaha. Quanto mais para a frente mais perguntas vão haver, e já agora isto está a ficar mesmo complicado para a o Percy e a Annabeth têm noção do fardo que a filha tem nos ombros? Completamente? Sabem de tudo mesmo ou acham que ela é poderosas mas não imaginam o quanto. Estes deuses nórdicos são confiáveis? Não é preciso responderes, mas eu pergunto-me isto a mim própria... Será? O Loki já sei que não! Aahah. Amei. Fico à espera do próximo. CC"

Answer: No, Percy and Annabeth doesn't know how powerful their daughter is. They will, but not just yet. They know some things about her... Let's just say I'll give you their perspective one of these days (updates). And I plan them to meet with her, as well, but it'll be sometime until they'll do it. And yes, Melody can trust the Norse Gods - even Loki.

Disclaimer: I don't own the characters "PJ & The Olympians" neither "HoO". Only the plot.

Enjoy!

Chapter 9

Melody's POV

As weird as it sounds, it was the silence that woke me up.

I guess I was so used to hear nature's noise coming from outside Hestia's house, that everything else - other environments just make me feel uncomfortable.

I've been laying here for a long time now. Minutes, hours, who knows?!

Since I woke up, my brain hasn't stopped working. The things Loki told me about…

Chaos

The Training

Gods and Goddesses

Monsters

War

Demigods

My Parents.

I. Don't. Want. This.

I don't want this.

I don't want this!

"This is too much." These words don't even sound as my own.

It's like everything about me isn't mine anymore. And now as I think about it, it's not. It's theirs.

I feel that everything I have - everything I am - belongs to them, to their world of magic, wars, deities, monsters, … All of them expect something from me, something I don't recognize in myself.

Their apprentice

A warrior

Their savior.

Fernando Pessoa (a Portuguese writer from 20th century) once said the Man was a discontented being.

That was never satisfied with life, that he always wanted more. That's why Mankind evolved in the first place. That desire for more was what created entire civilizations and make them take part in History today.

Is that what's happening here? I know they need me to be something that's going to save them. However not matter how much understanding I have for their situation - why I'm not enough as I am now?

I always lived thinking I was normal. Well, as normal as the neighbor next door, because God, correction - Gods (and I have the impression it'll be a while until I get used to this) know everyone thought I was weird; though, I didn't do anything to dismiss it.

I loved the way I was – an unpredictable, sarcastic, little weird too, smart-ass, possible funny, proud and devious, but somewhat trustworthy teenager girl. In comparison with the rest of the girls I had met so far, I always thought I was doing pretty well.

But they want me to change; want me to transform into something else.

Everyone is searching for a hero - someone whom they can place their hopes on, whom will be a safe harbor when in times of danger, doubt and despair. I was made their honorary hero, apparently.

Who is mine, though?

I thought it was Hestia. I guess I was wrong. She may have been kind and patient and gentle and… That doesn't matter now, because, in the end, she just wanted to use me like everyone else; to save them.

I've got nothing at this point. No safe harbor, no hero, no family or home – nothing. Just me.

"But who am I?"

I'm tired of being here. I want to get out.

Throwing the covers off me, I manage to stand up, but it must have been too fast, because everything is spinning. I sit on the bed, allowing myself some time to adjust.

It's chilly here.

It doesn't surprise me. Like Loki said, the Norse Pantheon was supposed to get me first, so it's natural they have brought me to their place.

I'm only wearing a T-shirt and pajama bottoms. Someone must have changed me because I don't remember doing it. Still, it's not enough to protect me from the cold. So I grab the cover from the bed and place it around my shoulders. It's very big, that's why I doubled it over and that way it doesn't touch the ground anymore.

It's really warm under it, no wonder I didn't get cold while I was on the bed.

Opening the door, I get out of the room I was placed in and step into the hallway.

The walls and floor are made of pure solid ice.

It has drawings on it, some type of symbols (I'm not sure, but I think they're called runes) that light the way through the corridors which are adorned with the most beautifully flawless, delicate ice-statues I've ever seen.

In other circumstances, I'd probably say the Snow-Queen lived in this place and I'd run away out of here, because even if it's a fairy tale, damn it gets scary! Especially when a person is in the exact situation I am now.

Every single statue has one of its palms raised up with a little blue fire flame on it.

It's strange. Shouldn't the fire be melting the ice?

Driven by curiosity, I pass my right hand through the blue flame. However, when my hand is precisely in its middle, I take it back. The fact I'd probably get burned makes me feel suddenly apprehensive.

Yet, when my hand was in the fire, I didn't get hurt. Okay, now I'm beyond curious. How it can be possible?

If someone saw me now – a teenager girl, only in a T-shirt and pajama bottoms, barefoot, with a hair that looks like a birth nest, passing her hand through the fire repeatedly while wearing a stunned expression on her face - they'd say I'm crazy, because it's exactly what it looks like.

I guess it was smart of them, lighting the corridors this way, I think, after my little experience, convinced the blue fire flame must have been a deed of godly magic. Torches of fire and ice don't exactly mix.

I walk through the passages, still admiring the statues. But I stop after a while, because now I can hear voices from down the hall.

"Seriously?! You couldn't think of anything else?"

Loki. He's here.

I'm walking faster now, and as I turn around the corner, I find myself in a magnificent area.

Surrounded by columns made of ice, the room is just a circle – a very big circle. To each column, there's an ice statue. However these are different from the one I saw in the passages. These are definitely taller. And, somehow, I have the feeling they aren't just for decorative purposes.

Each one of them is different. Men and Women represented with extreme precision, beautifully made of the purest ice – almost an element created for the gods only, which probably was. The statues radiate power. They make me feel weak, shrink with a slight sense of fear.

"Melody."

With just one word, Loki brought be back to present, from my little world of sudden powerless conscious.

My eyes lock with his. It's something he always did, regardless the short time we've know each other. He'd always look me in the eyes.

He´s wearing different clothes from the last time I saw him, thank God – Gods! This time, he chose an Iron Maiden T-shirt, dark jeans and white converse. Then again his face is the same as I remember it. He still wears that stupid grin on his face and the mischievous twinkle in his eyes.

I'm next to him. I must have walked towards him without even realize it.

"Hey," I say. Only now I see he's with somebody else. I recognize the woman – Sif.

"Hello," she replies. She's eyeing me from top to bottom. Then she looks to Loki. Then back at me.

"Do I have something on my face?" I ask her.

"No, it's just…" she begins to say. "Did – did Loki…"

"If Loki told me about the favor you require for me to do?" I didn't want to sound so bitter, but I'm glad they now know how I feel about it. "Yeah, he did," I answer, this time trying to be less unpleasant.

"Good," she says carefully. "I have things to do. Loki will show you around and prepare you for tomorrow." Turning to Loki, she says, "I'm sure you'll have no problem whatsoever of doing what I just said. Please don't traumatize her and don't forget of what I said before." And with that, she walks out of the scene. I bet this one would have a good career as dramatic actress.

"Amen to that," he chuckles. Widening my eyes, I realize of what had just happened.

"I said that out loud, didn't why?"

"That you did. Don't worry, she didn't hear you, though," he replies, making me blush with embarrassment. "But I did. Who knew our little princess could make such joke?!" He's making fun of me! How dare he?

"For the last time, don't call me princess!"

"Why? What are you going to do? Kick my ass?" Okay, that's it.

"Better. I'll give your ass to Thor kick."

Scowling, he replies, "You're meanie." And with that, I know I won. I smile. He smiles. "So, you want eat something?"

This is the moment my stomach decides the best to make us know it needs food as much a fish needs water to survive, a sunflower needs the sun, a bird needs his singing and a Melody needs her food.

"I'll take that as a yes," Loki says. "Come on, I'll get you something for lunch." He grabs my hand and leads me out of the room.

"Lunch?" I ask. "How long I've been out?" His hand is warm.

"The first time – after the explosion, I mean - almost two days. Since we talked, a day and a half."

"Oh," it's the only thing I say; not because of his words, but because of the view. We're on a balcony and the sight is just amazing. I can't even find the right words to describe it.

"So," he says, while he sits on the ice bench. "What do you want?"

I'm still dazzle by the view, that's why it takes me so long to answer him. "Hmm… A sandwich is fine, thanks."

With only a hand movement, everything appears beside him on the bench – a sandwich, a bottle of water, napkins and an apple.

"I only asked for a sandwich," I say, giving him half a smile, while I sit beside him and grab the food and put then on my lap.

"I know," he replies. "But you need to eat more than what you asked."

"Thanks," I say again.

I don't want silence. I'm tired of silence and what it brings. Sometimes, there's a good kind of silence, because it can bring comfort and other good things, like understanding between two people. But lately, the only silence I know is the kind that makes you think and doubt and be sad, because of what you've been thinking and that ruins the moments, the very same moments that turns life into life. So this time, I choose to not let the silence win this one. "So, what did Sif want you to do?"

"Oh, that…" he says nervously. "I have to be her 'Test-guy' for three months.

"'Test-guy'?! What the hell is that?"

"Well, if she wants to test a nail-polish, she'll test it on me first; if she wants to see if a particular set of clothes look good with a certain type of make-up, she'll test it on me first."

"Translation: you'll be her bitch for three months," I say before I take a sip of water.

He laughs out loud like I said the funniest joke in the world. "I knew there was a reason to like you, princess. Still, you should watch the way you talk. I don't mind it, but some of the other gods expect a little more respect."

I put the bottle on the bench again. "Expect?" I ask. It's impressive how one simple comment can change the entire conversation so fast. I'm pretty sure I can't look angrier than I already am. "The other day you told me I'm the only thing that prevents you from getting killed, and now I'm supposed to bow down to them? You're the one who said I'm immensely powerful and now I'm not even seen as their equal?"

He's scared – of me? "Melody, you don't understand… It's not like that. You need to train to…"

"No, Loki. You're the one who doesn't understand," I reply as I stand. "I didn't ask for any of this. I never wanted to be special. Yet, I'm here against my will and somehow I decide to take a chance helping you guys, because I don't want to get killed either or watching the world getting destroyed. But here's the thing you need to know about me – all of you: I'm going to learn, I'm going to train, it doesn't matter if it takes years, I'll become the strongest, the best, the most powerful worrier this world ever seen. I'm going to fight and when this whole thing is over, I'm going to live my life the way I want it to be lived."

He's staring at me. He´s serious, but not scared. He's watching me like he comprehends, like he knows I'm only thirteen but not a kid anymore. Far from it. He looks to me like he respects me.

"No one will tell me what to do. There is only one person in this world that gets to say anything about my life and that person is me!"

I grab my food and water bottle and then look straight into his eyes.

"I'm my own hero."

Turning around, I storm off the balcony as I head to my room.

"I don't need anyone," I mutter, as I walk as fast as I can. "I'll be my own hero."

*("Fernando Pessoa")* - What kind of patriot I would be, if I didn't put some of my culture into my writings?!

As always, don't forget to Review!

DarkAngelofHeavens

P.S.: I don't have a Beta, so my Chapters are most likely filled with mistakes. Sorry for that. I always try to do my best and pay attention, but somehow I always find errors in them. Sorry.