Quicker update translates to shorter chapter. Oh well. I hope you all enjoy it anyways.

Thank you all for your continued and future support of my story. It is very much appreciated.

Special shout out to That Was Such A Face Palm and yanksrock615 who have accepted my apology for my shotty updating and continued support. I don't often, well, never mentioned specific reviewers, but because of the situation I thought you guys deserved a show of my appreciation. You guys are pretty much awesome.

Anyways, on with the story, please enjoy this next chapter.


Percy had been on the march with the Roman soldiers for days now and he found that he was actually enjoying himself. It was relieving to be surrounded by people who stuck to a strict military routine that he was used to. There were a few differences, but not enough to cause him any trouble. At first the other soldiers didn't take well to him. They thought he was getting special treatment, riding on the back of Hazel's horse, or they thought he was useless and pampered. Percy quickly changed their minds as soon as he started running routines and other chores expected of marching soldiers. A lot of people were shocked by his obedience and lack of complaining, but they got over it when it was explained that he used to be a slave. He was grateful it didn't come up very often because the lie always left a bitter taste in his mouth, especially when Praetor Dakota, the commanding officer of the legion, told him he had the potential to be placed in one of the top legions of the army, maybe become Praetor himself.

A Praetor, Percy soon learned, was much more than a top ranking officer. They were a specialized officer trained in both warfare and judiciary practices. They could fight, they could lead, but most importantly they held the power to regulate law. Percy witnessed this practice many times as the legion made its way back to Rome. The legion's path was carefully plan to lead it through all the towns that swore fealty to Rome on its way back. Camp was set up outside the towns, but groups of soldiers were dispatched to police the town and deliver what Rome had promised. For Dakota that meant overseeing trials of the accused and ordering around his men. Percy gained a greater respect for the man who had taken him in after watching him balance the monumental responsibilities of his position.

Despite his comfortable transition and his great deal of respect for the way the Romans organized their army, Percy found it difficult to completely submerge himself in the people around him. It wasn't just because he was accepted by a lie. It was also because he couldn't push Annabeth and the others behind him. He didn't want to either. It was his time with the refugees and how much he cared for them that forced him to leave and try to be a better version of himself. He was torn by wanting to run back to them and his feeling that time with the Roman army would do him good. Allowing himself to find new friends among the Romans was too difficult for him at that time. Hazel was the closest thing to a friend he had due the amount of time he spent with her. Only after they were reaching the end of their journey and they had a somewhat personal conversation did he finally concede to calling her his friend.

The legion's last stop before Rome was near a small lake where the soldiers could clean up and make themselves presentable before they marched into the city. There was a rotation so there weren't too many soldiers bathing instead of working. When it came time for Hazel to go down to the lake she went alone except for Percy who was supposed to stand watch while she bathed. They brought her horse as to act as a kind of barrier as well. The horse's body ran parallel to the lake's shore and Percy stood on one side with his back to the horse while Hazel undressed on the other. It was then that it struck Percy that Hazel was the only woman in the legion. He had noticed it before, but not this acutely. Partly curious, but mostly wanting something to replace the growing awkwardness of the situation, he decided to ask her about it.

"So, um, Rome lets women into its army. I've never heard of that before," Percy said awkwardly. His eyes were trained dead ahead on the horizon where the road lay.

"I was wondering when you were going to ask me about that," Hazel said in an amused voice. "Yes, in attempt to make things equal the Senate allowed women to enlist."

"Why do you only say 'attempt'?"

"Because try as they may, there are very few women who are actually accepted in. Even if they are, they are often put into the lower legions. The Civic Legion, or one, is much less accepting. They may not even take well to you," Hazel explained.

"So female soldiers can only go so far within the army?"

"There is one woman who has reached the rank of officer, and after that she's even become a Praetor of the Civic Legion itself, which they're not too happy about, but no one could deny her skill and she is rather…" she let her sentence hang as she searched for the right word.

"Intimidating?" Percy supplied.

"Terrifying." Her words were followed by the sound of slashing water. Then water stilled and there was silence. Percy wasn't sure what was going on and resisted the urge to turn around and find out. After a little while longer the water moved again followed by what sounded like Hazel sucking air back into her lungs. "Anyways," she continued. "Most women don't want to enlist for personal reasons."

"Like what?"

"Finding a husband mostly. Men don't exactly look at female legionnaires the same way they do other women." Hazel voice grew in bitterness. "They're not as desirable, I guess."

Percy considered what she said carefully. He only had a limited experience with women due to his early arrival to the Arena. From what he did know he sorted through which traits he found attractive and which were unbecoming. "I don't see why being a legionnaire would make someone less desirable," he concluded earnestly.

"I don't suspect you would." Although his eyes were still focused straight ahead, he knew Hazel must have been out of the water now. Her voice sounded closer and he could hear soft footsteps on the grass. "I get the feeling the woman you love would fit in as a legionnaire."

Percy choked on his voice. "What makes you think I'm in love with anyone?"

"I've been watching you. This entire time you've barely looked over your shoulder. Only men who care for a woman try not to look. Other men just try not to get caught looking." Hazel seemed rather amused, but Percy's cheeks flushed bright red

He stammered as he tried to think of an appropriate response. "I-I don't think that's completely true."

"Well, there's always an exception, like men who have a sense of respect, but it is something I have notice during my time with the legion." Hazel appeared from the other side of the horse, freshly cleaned and fully dressed. She laid an affectionate hand on her horse. "So which is it for you?"

"I do try to be respectful, have an honor code."

"It is a woman, then," Hazel mused. Percy tried to refute her, but his tongue betrayed him. A small smile played on her lips. Then it quickly went away and was replaced by a more serious expression. "Where is she?"

Percy frowned. "I don't know, in the mountains somewhere." He looked down at his feet and let himself remember the night he left. It was so many days ago he could barely believe it. He wondered where the refugees and how they were doing. The realization that he missed them was heavy on his heart, amplified by his conversation with Hazel. He picked up his head and cleared his throat, taking the reins of the horse he began to make his way back to the camp. "Come on, we're leaving soon." Hazel had a concerned look on her face as she fell in step beside him, but she said nothing more. That was when he knew she was his friend.

By the time the pair got back to the camp, most of it had already been packed up. The rest would be taken care of by the remaining soldiers as the last two groups went down to the lake. Everything went smoothly, the legion moved as one entity. At almost the exact time the last of the soldiers returned from the lake the legion was ready to march. For this final stretch Percy did not ride with Hazel. That would have been far from regulation and disrespectful of Roman tradition. Praetor Dakota easily placed him in a younger, less experienced cohort to fill the missing ranks from losses they had incurred during their tour away from the city. Percy tried not to be insulted by not being allowed to march with the more veteran soldiers. He wasn't even a true soldier technically, but it was still embarrassing in its own way. The only thing that made it truly bearable was the cohort's centurion, Frank. He enteracted little with the young centurion, but from what he saw he was a good leader.

The march to the city from the lake was very well calculated. It was long enough to make feet ache, but not long enough for the men to get too sweaty and dirty. Even without seeing the large, fortified outer wall of the city Percy could have figured out they were close by the steps of the men around them. In the shadow of the city wall the marching soldiers seemed to forget their wariness and pains. They marched with more energy, slouched soldiers were straightened once more, chins were lifted just a little bit higher, even the pace quickened without an order. They were home and they were relieved.

Percy tried to share their excitement, but mostly he was filled with anxiety. As they marched closer and closer Percy could see people- merchants, travelers, country farmers- heading along a main road and then being stopped at the main gate by Roman soldiers. There was a quick check and then the people were allowed to pass. Even the people leaving the city had to go through a similar inspection. Percy feared that the guards might spot something about him that no one else had seen so far. From what Hazel had told him about the Civic Legion, they were better trained and more elitist. He could see the difference in the legions even from a distance. The Civic Legion had expensive, immaculately kept armor and they were larger, stronger, and healthier. Every movement was executed perfectly and not a single motion was wasted. These men might be able to tell Percy was an Arena soldier simply by the way he moved and held himself.

The marching legion didn't head for the main gate though. Instead they veered away from the main road and headed to a smaller, fortified gate in the side wall. This gate was closed and, instead of being manned by men on the ground, it was watched over by twin guard towers with a tercet of men in each. Two of the men were armed with bows while the third watched over the signal fires and the gate mechanism. This smaller gate, Percy realized, must have been a special entryway for the legions only, as to not disrupt the civilian traffic with large parades of soldiers and horses. The men in the watch towers halted the legion before the gate and only after Dakota had shouted back some passwords and clearly displayed the standard, did the gate open and the legion was able to march through.

Once inside Percy found himself in a stone courtyard surrounded by high walls on all sides. The courtyard was large enough for the entire legion to fit inside it comfortably, including their mounts. In the wall directly oppisite was a larger, open gate that lead into the rest of what Percy assumed to be the garrison of Rome. Directly above the gate was a stone balcony decorated with the standard of the Civic Legion and Rome's senatorial banner. There were guards on the balcony, but the stood back, unimportant. It was their praetor, marked by her ornamentation on her breastplate for she wore no helmet, that demanded attention even wihtout a command. Standing as far as he was, Percy could still feel the confident power that rolled off of her. He understood now why Hazel would consider her slightly terrifying.

"Preator Dakota," the female Preator called out, her voice as strong and commanding as Luke's. Dakota raised his arm in a salute in response. "I'm glad to see The Fifth Roman Legion has returned with mostly whole numbers. Your men have two days rest before their inspection, however you, Preator, will accompany me to the officer's meeting."

This time the entire legion saluted along with Dakota. Percy, unknowning of Roman protocol, did not get his arm up in time and felt rather ridulous. The female Preator returned the salute then gave a quick hand single for the legion to take it's leave.

On the other side of the second gate the the courtyard opened up to a much larger area. Percy nearly gaped at the shear size of the garrison- a small town made of tents with stone builings here and there for more important things. Then as he looked around he realized it was really no bigger than the Arena, the only difference was that Rome built horizontally rather than vertically. In all he estimated it could only hold about three fully eqiped legions at a time, but as he understood it, Rome often had the majority of their army deployed across their lands. There was probably never more than three legions in the city at any given time. Only the Civic Legion remained home during the full year.

The Fifth's cohorts broke apart as they marched off to their separate designated areas, but each cohort maintained its formation and their steps stayed in time. Percy looked over his shoulder to where he saw Hazel break off with her cohort. He wanted to follow the lady soldier, but she was headed to the stables with the rest of the calvary and his centurion was leading them to the sleeping tents. Percy had no choice, but to follow Frank and the other men and hope Hazel would find him later.

The tent assigned to Percy's new cohort's tent was everything he expected it to be- plain, neatly laid out in straight lines, not a thing out of place. It was as bare and lifeless as his room back in the Arena. All the same it meant home to the men and actually beds were a hundred times better than any bedroll. They immediately let their posture slacken as they hasitly untied the straps of their armor with practiced ease. Percy, who had no armor, simply tucked his pack away in a trunk at the foot of a spare cot and sat down upon it. Even for how accustomed he was to long, hard marches he let out a sigh of relief after the weight was taken off his feet.

"Hey, Frank," one of the other men suddenly spoke up/ then he seemed to realize he was speaking to an officer and corrected himself, "Uh, sir, shouldn't you take the centurion's bed?"

Frank looked about him where he was undressing by a standard cot instead of the larger, softer bed that sat at the end of the tent. It was set aside for the officer in each cohort spefically. "Right. Of course." Frank seemed to suddenly remember his place and picked up his things and walked them over to the proper bed.

A realization just hit Percy. The reason Frank seemed so young and, well, soft for an officer. The reason he barely talked with the young man and usually only saw him in discussion with some of the more veteran soldiers. "You've only recently been promoted," he blurted out. All the men in the tent turned to stare hard at him. Frank on the other hand gave him a shy smile and rubbed the back of his head.

"Our actually centurion, Micheal, died during the campaign. An arrow slit an artery in his midsection. He bled before the medic could see to him. I only took command shortly before you joined us," the young centurion explained. He hanged his head a moment, as did the other soldiers, in honor of their fallen comrade.

Percy was surprised to see the pain the men shared over their fallen leader. In the Arena not a single soldier would have blinked an eye at the death of an officer. Respected men would get ceremonies to honor their loyalty to Othrys, but it was more show than emotion. Only the living could recieve honors. The soldiers were different here in Rome. They men before they were soldiers. Percy smiled inwardly at the sight. If this was the army he had conscripted into, he was proud. More than that though, he thought his mother, Annabeth, and the others would be proud of him too. He could only hope at least.

"Well, you're doing a fine job, sir." Percy gave Frank a deep nod of his head. The comment seemed to lighten the officer's spirits. A genuine smile graced his features for a moment.

Suddenly the tent's flap burst open and a large Civic guard step through. The men in the tent snapped to attention almost immediately, but not nearly fast enough Percy thought. It was good thing the soldier seemed unconcerned with the men. His eyes were trained straight on Frank. He gave the centurion a textbook salute. "Centurion Frank, compliments of Preator Reyna, she request your presence immediately." The guard's voice left no room for argument, even if he was speaking to a higher ranking officer.

"But the inspection-"

"This has nothing to do with your legion's inspection. She simply requests your presence." Then the guard eyed the men in the tent carefully. When his eyes landed on Percy they didn't move. He lifted one heavy hand and pointed a hard finger at him. "Bring him as well."