A/N: It's been a while. I know I said two weeks but due to school and the general length of this chapter it took a but longer than I expected. Either way, I'm sure you're all sick of these Author's Notes, so we'll jump right into the nitty-gritty.
Reviews:
Aetemus- I'm sorry this story wasn't to your liking. Hopefully you find others to your taste!
sirGLOCKSalot- Thanks for your kind words!
Trigger-Happy Texan- I don't recall exactly where the idea came from, but for some reason I realized that the moniker would work for Percy fairly well given the context. Sorry this chapter came out later than you'd hoped. Thanks for the review!
Schetz- I can understand your point, as well as Aetemus'. I had originally planned for Chaos having a bit of a larger role when I was planning out the general story outline, but I realized how little say Percy had in choosing his own path, that I scrapped most of Chaos' interaction with Percy. Even now, my plans for Chaos and the story as a whole will revolve around Percy and the problems he faces due to his own actions. From the beginning I wanted to make it so that Percy was struggling to take control of his life after the deal he made with Angra Mainyu, and this was just another step into bringing him into the character I envisioned. Thank you for your thoughts and review!
MasterTrident13- Yeah, I felt having those who died come back would kinda create few stakes in the overall war as a whole. If Chaos went far enough to resurrect his friends, then she would more than likely have no qualms about resurrecting anybody who died in the war. Of course, not even Chaos has the final say in everything that happens in the universe, and not everything will go as she hopes or planned. Fate is a fickle mistress after all. Thanks for your review!
spnaph- My friend! Good to be writing to you once more! I'm glad you enjoyed my play with Chaos and the story I built for the genesis of the universe. I obviously gained inspiration from a few religious sources as well as some other forms of media and my own general imagination. Originally Chaos was meant to be a love interest for Percy, but I have since scrapped that idea due to the fact that I wanted something a bit more antagonistic in the end. Sorry about the grammatical errors by the way! I generally try to edit my work to the best of my ability, but sometimes reading through a ten thousand word chapter several times can grow tedious, even if it's my own work. At times it feels like I'm two inches from my screen, squinting at the damn thing trying to catch mistakes and whatnot. Anyway, thanks for the review my good friend!
theweird1234- Admittedly, even I found myself narrowing my eyes at the way I wrote her.
justafan- Haha, I'm glad that my version of Chaos could elicit such a reaction from somebody. I don't find it weird that you see Angra Mainyu as you see fit. I can't confirm or deny any of your ideas, since imagination is the good form of suspense for a reader, so I'll leave you to keep coming up with theories. I will admit though, you have some good ones there. Funny you should mention Chaos being a yandere, though, because I'd originally intended to write her a bit more obsessed with Percy, but eventually scrapped that idea. Thanks for your review!
Kindred Scarlet- I'm glad that you like my work. Thanks for your review!
cmneuses19- Sent a PM.
HaywireEagle- Actually the reference was to Ajax being the "bulwark of Achaeans" in the Illiad, showing that Percy was honorarily a major strength of the Greek forces of his time, just like Ajax was thousands of years prior. Admittedly when I wrote the sword section I was looking for a reason to give him a sword with longer reach, considering that the Xiphos was generally a sword on the shorter side. Some descriptions of Percy's sword say that it was three feet in length, which is fairly long for a single-handed weapon like the traditional Xiphos. I understand that it's all creative license with Rick's work, so I figured I might as well change it up a bit as well. Regarding the sword materials, I actually realize that carbon-based steel is typically the best form of metal to use when forging a sword. People still use steel to this very day in order to make swords, which goes to prove that truly it is the best combination of durability and flexibility. Titanium would be too soft to use, even though it would be objectively harder to break completely. Tungsten would be far too brittle, and might crack with the first swing due to it's very nature. Heliotrope isn't even a metal, meaning that making it into an alloy component would be quite ridiculous. When I was writing the procedure, I took a variety of different ideas and simply melded them together, quite lazily, and chalked it down to Muramasa's supernatural skill along with a bunch of different procedures done off screen. On the bright side, I didn't make it completely outlandish in terms of form right? With regards to Percy's loss of his demigod status, it was something I had planned from the beginning. I suppose my execution was off, my bad haha. I don't actually think this would fit as a good crossover with Fate. I took a few minor elements from the greater Nasuverse and twisted them slightly to fit the story and my needs. If I had included completely original characters to the Nasuverse like Shirou, Rin, Zelretch, ORT, Shiki, etc, I would definitely have set this bad boy down in the crossover section. As it stands, Gae Bolg's special ability and Scathach's appearance are really the only things that I would see as being solely attributed to Type-Moon. Scathach and Angra Mainyu are both legends from their respective cultures, with their back-stories being taken from their own myths and changed to fit my needs as I saw fit. I have to fully agree that if Angra Mainyu had simply asked, things probably would have gone far differently. Thanks for your thoughts and review!
zen-aku the spirit of the wolf- References galore! Although I didn't even notice the Highschool DxD one. Subconsciously perhaps?
Disclaimer: I do not make any money off this work of fanfiction. All rights for the characters in Percy Jackson and the Olympians and Heroes of Olympus go to Rick Riordan and all who were involved in the creation of the novels.
11. On a Red Horse, He Rode
With Percy…
Percy stared out at the rolling waves of white clouds below his position. The sun had been a constant companion on the flight back to the United States. It was only natural considering that as the airplane flew over the Atlantic Ocean, they were moving west, the same direction in which the sun set. As such it stood to reason that even as time passed hour by tedious hour the sun never dipped below the horizon; thusly, Percy's internal clock was far from normalized. Occasionally the plane would bank to the left or right, which would lead to the sun moving away from his direct line of sight.
The young man sighed as he sunk lower into the comfortable plane seat. Thankfully, Chaos, for all her manipulative fashions, had taken it upon herself to give him and his partner seats in first class. Due to the type of airplane that they were in, the seats were situated in pairs, with one right next to the other, forming six rows. Wide aisles allowed both passengers and crew members to walk freely to and from the front of the plane back to the economy class section. What Percy found novel was that the seats could actually slide out and extend, becoming small beds for a single person's use. He hadn't used the function, but Scáthach had been more than willing to test it out. Percy deduced that the hybrid seats must have made for comfortable mattresses when he considered that his magenta-haired friend had been asleep for the better part of five hours.
The flight was set to take nearly eight hours to get to J.F.K International Airport from Edinburgh, meaning that the duo had already traveled more than half the time and distance. They didn't have to wait on any luggage, meaning that as soon as they stepped off the plane it would be straight to asking for a cab or finding a car to rent.
Not for the first time did Percy find himself silently praising Scáthach's ingenuity. Had she not brought her credit card with her the two of them would have been in a bind. The son of Poseidon looked over at his sleeping friend, seeing that she was turned away from him, facing the aisle. The steady rise and fall of her shoulder and back indicated that she was probably still fast asleep, taking a well-needed rest.
Truth be told Percy, too, felt exhausted from the interactions of the past few days. He'd been on the ground, fighting an ancient and powerful deity at the start of a new, massive conflict. During that very fight he'd feared for his life like never before. The only exception would perhaps be when he had encountered Tartarus, the primordial himself. Truly, that had been one of the most gut-wrenching interactions he'd faced. Crom Cruach, while not as initially terrifying like Tartarus had been, grew into a feared foe as their battle progressed. The fact that he seemed to regenerate practically all damage done to him was simply too dangerous to ignore. Even Percy had limitations set on his own healing abilities. Crom, however, had been able to heal after having his head split in two and having been completely bisected from shoulder to hip.
Logic stated that it shouldn't have been possible for him to accomplish such a miraculous feat. Then again, he was a god. Divine beings had the tendency to defy the natural order of things. Percy was sure that the god's regeneration was directly correlated to a domain of his. He wasn't sure which it was though; as such, the former demigod was at a loss in regards to that aspect of the silver-haired deity.
Percy glanced once more at the witch of Dún Scáith. He fondly smiled at her slightly curled form as she rested. During their small road trip to Edinburgh Percy divulged most of his meeting with Chaos to his magenta-haired friend. He omitted all forms of discussion regarding the genesis of the universe, not wishing to incur the wrath of Chronos, but apart from that he had included everything else.
Scáthach, understandably, had been shocked when Percy admitted that he was planning on killing Angra Mainyu just like Chaos had asked. Even further, Percy clearly stated that he felt little remorse in considering to kill the God of Evil. He was unsure why that was, but in the end it worked for him and his eventual goal. Getting rid of someone like Angra Mainyu was necessary for the future of the world; this, Percy was quite aware of. The white-haired god manipulated events to his liking far too often. It would only be a matter of time before he went too far and caused irreparable damage to the balance.
Scáthach had also been fairly aggrieved when she heard of how Chaos had exploited her station in order to secure Percy's cooperation. Even so, the witch understood that Chaos handled the situation with expert care. That seemed to impress the magenta-haired warrior to an extent, though her displeasure was not suppressed regardless. With all being said, the five hour drive from Broadford to Edinburgh was uneventful, if somewhat tense. Due to them leaving Broadford soon after Percy's discussion with the primordials, they had arrived in the Scottish capital three days early for their flight. Thus, the duo had spent those three days enjoying the what the city had to offer after they had made arrangements to stay at a hotel near the airport. Scáthach had been quite smitten with the city as they toured the area. She insisted on eating at many local diners to experience the regional cuisine. Percy had humored her as they roamed the streets of Edinburgh side by side, walking calmly and occasionally stopping at a shop that caught one of their eyes.
While they could have used the car that Chaos gave them, Scáthach stated that she was tired of driving and wanted to smell the Scottish air. Considering that it was a fairly dense city Percy couldn't really feel the clean air like he had on the Isle of Skye, though Scáthach insisted that the fresh scent was still there.
After their three days were up they had boarded the plane and Scáthach had promptly tested the chair-beds to see if they were any good. As such their situation was thus; with the witch of Dún Scáith sleeping through the flight while Percy simply attempted to drive the growing anxiety out of his mind. Soon, perhaps too soon for his liking, he would be facing a group of people that were sure to have multitudes of questions. Additionally, he'd have to speak to both Thalia and Annabeth.
Yes, when he thought about it those two were perhaps what were driving his blood pressure through the roof. His finger restlessly tapped on the arm of his seat while he bit the inside of his lip, tearing the tissue and tasting blood. He sighed and shook his head with grim humor.
'Fighting gods… oh sure point me in their direction. Talking about your feelings… eh… I'd rather take the murderous gods at that point.'
The son of Poseidon let loose a wry chuckle as he leaned his head back against the seat. The cushioned chair allowed for his head to sink a bit into the comfortable material. Percy closed his eyes, sure that sleep would elude him, but even if it was a facsimile, people could always be fooled into believing it was real.
Olympus…
The gods were agitated. A problem in and of itself. The other problem was that she had no idea why they were in such an aggravated state. Annabeth's stormy-grey eyes stared at the ornate doors that lead to the Olympian council room. She had been discussing the war efforts against the Fire Jötnar of Muspelheim with her mother, when Zeus had appeared in the throne room and called for a council meeting. That being said, since Annabeth wasn't an Olympian, she had been asked to leave even though the discussion she'd been having with her mother was quite important.
Athena had been worried that the Fire Jötnar were retreating further into Muspelheim to amalgamate their smaller individual retinues into a larger unit. The natives of Muspelheim were fierce warriors in their own right, with each being a difficult opponent for anybody that wasn't a god. The Norse demigods had valiantly fought the giants when Surtr, the de facto king of Muspelheim and all Eldjötnar, forced a declaration of war through his invasion of Niflheim (1) and Alfheim (2). The Fire King's rapid mobilization of his forces left the Æsir-Vanir coalition (3) scrambling to prepare their own front-line warriors.
In the end, Surtr had managed to raze nearly a third of Alfheim before he retreated from the realm of the Light Elves. In his wake, he had left burning forests and immolated corpses of the surprised Ljosalf (4).
The fighting in Niflheim had been more aggrandized, due to Hel being fiercely territorial of her given lands. She had rallied the forces of her undead guard into defense of the last home they would ever have. It had been surprising to learn that Niflheim had withstood the primary wave of invaders, with the line of skirmish never moving far into Hel's primary territory.
The Eldjötnar invasion had happened nearly ten months ago. Since that time, they had fallen back from Niflheim in order to secure their own lands in Muspelheim. More than that though, it was a well-known fact that Fire Giants needed high-temperature environments in order to sustain their health. Through some form of homeostasis, it appeared that if the Eldjötnar were separated from their typical atmosphere for long, it would have profound effects on the physical abilities. This was one of the reasons that they could not force prolonged engagements with their enemies in foreign territories. As such, when their initial invasion of Niflheim had been repelled, the forces of Muspelheim had left Hel's realm in order to ensure that they would not sustain heavy losses in a retaliatory attack.
From that point onward, the warriors of Asgard had decided to take the fight to the Fire Giants. Unfortunately, the incredibly inhospitable environment of Muspelheim made attacking Surtr a slog. The massive rivers of lava and the ash in the air caused warriors no small amount of grief. In order to gain even a small foothold in the dangerous territory, a few gods had been required to put up a series of large dome-like barriers that filtered the poisonous air into something breathable.
It was then that the surprise had been sprung on the Norse. The residents of Jotunheim (5) had aligned themselves with Surtr's forces, leading to a large-scale conflict. During the times of peace that had gripped the Norse realms it was only natural that the numbers of Jötnar increased. Most of them were relatively weak when compared to gods, but there were some that could fight on par with even Thor and Freyja, two of the most fearsome warriors in the Norse pantheon. Not only had the Jötnar increased their own population, but the had created a multitude of draugar (6) in order to fight on the front-lines of the war. With their army gathered, the Jötnar had moved from Jotunheim and into Svartalfheim (7), where the Dark Elves and Dwarves made their home. Even though the dwarves declared their neutrality early in the war between Surtr and Asgard, they had still been targeted. The Dark Elves had moved to isolate themselves even further, but when they too refused to side with the Jötnar, they had been attacked.
The worlds of the Norse were in turmoil as war plagued most of the nine realms. It during the invasion of Svartalfheim that the Norse called upon the Greeks and Romans for aid. The Olympians were hesitant to leave their own lands and venture into unknown territory, and as such they dawdled as much as they could, sending in smaller parties of spirits and expendable forces. Hephaestus, in collaboration with the Dwarves, had begun to mass produce automatons that could act as fodder for the war machine. Soon, the idea picked up much support, and the Cyclopes within Poseidon's realm were soon called into service to help build the automatons.
It had been difficult garnering support to send more aid in the form of Greco-Roman demigod volunteers, though, leaving the Norse to do most of the bleeding on their own. While there were a few groups of half-bloods who were willing to actively assist the Norse, the numbers were still below thirty, counting between both Roman and Greek camps. Many gods were against their children fighting at the front of another war, and for foreigners no less, leaving many of the volunteers without support. Annabeth herself was ambivalent towards the thought of being heavily involved in the Norse war. In one regard, she understood that if the Asgardians didn't receive more aid, they would suffer heavy casualties amongst the lower ranks. Yet, even with that thought fresh in her mind, she couldn't bring herself to suggest considering sending in the volunteer forces of her own kin.
Her personal musings were interrupted when the doors to the council room opened once more. Athena strode out with a look of consternation marring her beautiful face. The goddess sighed heavily and shook her head as the doors closed once more, rubbing circles into her temples in an alleviating manner. Annabeth walked to her mother with anxiety. It was rare for Athena to allow herself to show exasperation or doubt, and her daughter knew that very well. The goddess had her pride as an Olympian, and enjoyed to maintain herself as a proper and stern woman.
"Mother," Annabeth started, her eyes concerned. "Did something happen? Zeus seemed particularly troubled."
Athena nodded and gestured for Annabeth to follow her. The mother-daughter pair walked the path that led away from the council room and into the gardens. As the magnificent stone walkway opened up into a large circular area, Athena took to finding the nearest bench. The Goddess of Wisdom planted herself down and crossed one leg over the other as she stared at the fountain directly in front of her. Two jets of water crossed one another, creating a fine mist over the fountain as the droplets of water sprayed across the area.
"It would seem," Athena paused slightly as she placed a hand on her chin. "The ethereal energy that permeated the world is stabilizing and not rising any longer. While that is for the best, I can't help but worry that the energy was a bi-product of something. Or perhaps it was some precursor…" The goddess trailed off, her eyes staring at the water flowing from the fountain.
"But what would it mean?" Annabeth asked, her confusion evident. Everyone, from demigod to Olympian, had felt the massive influx of ethereal power that had enveloped the world four days prior. While the half-bloods had been unable to sense it, Annabeth had felt four distinct areas where the build-up was most prominent. Yet as she was only a minor goddess, it was difficult for her to precisely deduce the location of each signature. Her mother, on the other hand, was more than eager to point out that each signature was somewhere with some form of significance. Calakmul in Mexico was a place of worship to the Mayan gods when they still inhabited the world. In Scotland, Athena guessed that it was either Dún Scáith or Tech Duinn that was suspect, both holding Celtic importance. Angkor Wat was easily recognized as both a Hindu and Buddhist temple, obviously under the Devas' jurisdiction. Finally came Iraq, or rather the ruins of Babylon. The city was well known for being incredible during the times of Mesopotamia being a world power, but Athena was unsure of what it could otherwise.
"Well, each of those locations probably had their own form of power attached to them. Somebody could have attempted to siphon that power for an―as of yet―unidentified purpose." The goddess shook her head with narrowed eyes. "Yet, we are completely unaware of what it means, or who did it. Troublesome news indeed."
Annabeth took notice of the wording her mother used. "Could have? As in it's passed on all four sites?" She had not felt any disturbance as of late, yet she knew that her mother was more attuned to sensing such forms of energy.
"Nearly. The energy first disappeared from Dún Scáith the day after it appeared. Then, just yesterday, the flow was also disrupted in Mexico and Cambodia. Only the energy in Iraq remains, and even then it sits complacent and unchanging," Athena answered curtly.
"Was that why the meeting was called?" Annabeth queried.
The Goddess of Wisdom shook her head in response. "No, this meeting pertained to more pressing matters. It would appear that Apophis has finally made his decisive move."
The blonde architect's eyes widened when she heard mention of the Egyptian deity of darkness. While the Egyptians were fairly untrusting of the Greeks and Romans, they had been sure to update the five major pantheons to their condition in the fight against Apophis. In fact, all of the pantheons gave semi-regular reports on the vague situation they were in, be it good or bad. The new form of communication helped build positive relationships with the messengers of each report. The hope was that some goodwill could be passed from culture to culture, uniting each group even further.
"As you know, Apophis is a deity of darkness and chaos, but also of reptilian creatures. His original form takes the likeness of a massive serpent, and it is how he is often depicted in art. With his position as King of Reptiles, he has formed a group consisting of the most powerful reptiles to ever walk the earth," Athena explained, her voice sounding weary. "The most powerful in his group so far consist of Níðhǫggr, Vritra, Aži Dahāka, Jörmungandr, Kaliya, Fafnir and Yamata no Orochi. Unfortunately, we have scant information regarding this group, such as motivations and structure of their conglomerate."
There was a moment's pause where Annabeth took the time to analyze what she'd been told.
Dragons.
Apophis had gathered a group of legendary dragons for whatever he was planning. Each of the dragons on their own was terrifying, considering that in most of their legends it had taken a god to kill or subdue each. Now those legendary beasts had been gathered by one god. Annabeth wasn't sure if Apophis controlled them somehow due to his domain over reptiles, or if they were autonomous to some extent; though, it wouldn't really matter if they still cooperated to some extent. Each dragon named was a being of power that few mortals could match. If Apophis were to attack with his group, it would take no less that an equal amount of gods to combat him. Or perhaps even more.
In addition, the blonde architect doubted that a minor god could be one to defeat a single dragon. If Apophis were to bring the legendary dragons into a massive battle, the major gods would be required to focus on the greater threats. A shift in concentration like that could turn the tides of war if done properly.
"That's… not good for us, is it?" Annabeth asked tiredly.
Athena frowned. "As of yet, it has nothing to do with us directly. Apophis has shown no aggression towards any pantheon but the Egyptians. Eventually he might target the other great pantheons, but so far we can plan without interruption of battle. For now, you can return to Camp Half-Blood. I know you were planning a few extra renovations, so I won't hold you too much longer here. While you're there, however, I would like you to speak with Chiron about the volunteer force that some of the half-bloods suggested. I fear we may have to seriously consider sending our own children in order to aid the Asgardians."
Nodding, Annabeth moved forward and brought her mother into an awkward embrace. Due to the blonde being on her feet she had to bend down at an odd angle. Even so, Athena reciprocated that hug, patting her daughter on the back a few times. Annabeth relished in the warmth that her mother provided her, as well as the confidence that surged into her.
"I'll talk to you again soon. If you ever need anything, I'm always more than happy to help, okay?" Annabeth said seriously. When she saw Athena nod, the architect smiled. She backed up, and gave her mother a wave. Before she could leave, Annabeth received a question from her mother.
"Will you be one of those that would volunteer to help the Norse should it come to that?"
The blonde tightened her lips into a thin line as she looked away from the Olympian. "Yes. If I know him, he'll be on the front lines, fighting as hard as he can. Undoubtedly, this building conflict was why he was taken from us. With that in mind, then it only makes sense that he would be fighting against the injustice in this world right? That's just who Percy is. I know I'll find him again."
Athena stared at her daughter, a creeping grief enclosing around her heart. Five years. It had been five years, yet Annabeth's faith in finding her lost lover had remained. While there had been moments of weakness and much self-loathing, Athena could admire the fire that burned in her daughter's heart.
While it was unclear why the Zoroastrian God of Evil took Percy away to start, many conclusions had been drawn in the years following. Through it all, Annabeth had been certain that Percy would survive and return to them. True enough, Athena too felt that Percy's return was irrefutable. The only question was when that inevitable time would come.
New Jersey…
A volley of arrows ripped through the air, whistling as they flew toward their intended target. Leaves were punctured and fell to the ground as they were torn off their respective branches. The soft light of the moon illuminated the gaps between the trees. Some of the arrows planted themselves in the trunks of the white cedar trees that grew densely around the area. A few arrows missed their target, splashing into the shallow waters of the dark swamp. Two particular arrows, however, found what they had been fired at. A shrill bleat sounded throughout the cool, April night, signaling that the hunted had been struck and wounded.
Water splashed as several pairs of feet rushed through the dimly lit swamp. Silhouettes of humans passed and cast shadows as they ran between the cedars, following the trail that had been left by their prey. A pair of electric-blue eyes led the fore, quickly scanning the surrounding area in order to ensure no misstep was made.
Thalia led her sisters-in-arms on their hunt of a fairly unimpressive beast. The Jersey Devil was a creature that, while frightening to any normal human, was hardly worth the effort of hunting for a maiden of Artemis. Still, she and her group had been in the area when the creature had shown itself, stalking the outskirts of Atlantic City during the cover of night. Normally, Thalia wouldn't have bothered the creature, however her mistress had left for a meeting on Olympus, leaving the Hunt with scant else to do in the large city. Five years had done wonders for gathering new members to Artemis' group, and their numbers had shot from less that thirty, to a whopping seventy-three. Now, the group was far too large to travel as one coherent pack, leading to the Hunt constantly splitting up.
As it was, Thalia lead five of the newest members to the Hunt, helping them gain a bit more experience. She had asked the remaining hunters to keep a low-profile in Atlantic City so that she could take the new members to hunt the Jersey Devil. After the daughter of Zeus had left Victoria, the most senior hunter, in charge of the larger group, she had promptly given chase to the hybrid beast that prowled the night. They had run at a brisk pace for three hours until they reached a murky swamp in the Pine Barrens of New Jersey.
By the position of the moon, Thalia assumed that it was nearing midnight, meaning that the girls she had brought along with her would probably be experiencing an all-night hunt. While she didn't mind being out for such a length of time, the lieutenant of Artemis certainly would have liked to be hunting a worthy monster. Instead she was forced to take a pitiful creature that had little intention of fighting back it seemed. She was no sadist, taking no pleasure in prolonging a beast's terror of being the prey. As such, she was hoping to find and kill the already wounded Jersey Devil sooner rather than later. The two arrows she fired had found their target, embedding themselves in the monster's shoulder, meaning it would be easier to track and finish off.
Wading through the roots that constricted their path, the hunters tried their best to listen for the ragged breathing of the Jersey Devil. Each of the girls was tired, having run for longer than what they were accustomed to. This led to them also having trouble catching their breath. Unfortunately, Thalia knew that if they couldn't control their breathing, the monster would be alerted to the presence of the hunters. She slowed her pace in response to her thoughts, realizing it would be better to have the girls stabilize their breath before encountering the beast once more.
Several more minutes passed as the group of six made their advance. Finally, Thalia raised her hand. The group stopped all movement, and Thalia gestured to a small clearing where the trees were less bunched. There, lapping up some water from the swamp, sat the Jersey Devil. It was a grotesque being, one with the head of a goat and the wings of a bat. It had long, thin appendages that formed its hands and legs, with very little muscle on the bone. Sharp claws adorned the end of each of its four fingers, and hooves made themselves apparent as it shifted weight from leg to leg. To top of the appearance of a true devil, were a pair of long horns on the top of its head, each pointing forward, looking sharp and dangerous in the low light.
The other hunters raised their bows, each preparing an arrow. Thalia herself didn't ready her weapon, being content to signal the monster's imminent demise. Even though the girls were fairly new to the Hunt, each had already been given basic training lessons regarding the bow. Truly, none of them should miss a stationary monster, no more than thirty feet away from them. The monster was blissfully unaware of the arrows pointed in its direction, even as it rested its head slightly, groaning pitifully as blood dripped down from the two arrows still lodged in its back. Thalia felt a twinge of remorse before she raised her hand and slightly twitched her fingers.
Five arrows whistled through the air, alerting the Jersey Devil at the last moment of its fate. The monster had time to raise its head before two arrows pierced its neck, and the other three hit its side, sinking into the flesh and more than likely puncturing a few vital organs. With a blood-curdling shriek, the monster tried to push itself off of the ground and run once more; however, Thalia knew there was no point anymore. The creature fell over as its legs gave out from under it. The group made their way to the Jersey Devil, and Thalia kneeled down beside the dying beast. Blood was flowing in restrained rivulets down into the swamp water with each of the monster's ragged breaths. Pulling out her hunting knife, the daughter of Zeus cut the Devil's throat quickly.
"Hm, I was wondering why it didn't fly away," Thalia muttered as she picked up one of the monster's wings. There were several tears in the leathery substance that were slightly scabbed over. She dropped the bat-like wing and shook her head. "It must have gotten in a fight with another monster and gotten itself injured. Couldn't fly after that, so it had to find an easier source of food in the city."
"But why such a big city? Aren't monsters like this usually afraid to go into heavily populated areas?" Asked one of the hunters, Jillian, if Thalia was remembering correctly.
"Normally that's the case, but monsters that usually have the ability to fly rely on that to get them their food. They can swoop down and pick up their prey, before dropping them to kill it. That way, there is little risk of being injured if the prey decided to fight back. As you can see," Thalia pointed at the Devil's stringy limbs. "This kind of monster doesn't rely on brute strength to get its food. Meaning that without flight, it needed a way to get food easily and without a hassle. Rats and small animals like cats are easier to find in larger towns and cities. If it came to it, the Jersey Devil could also probably scrounge in trash cans for any food thrown away by humans. Easy hunting."
The girls all nodded in understanding. Thalia was smart enough and had the experience to realize that their small hunt had been little more than vanity killing. She sighed and prepared herself to decapitate the corpse, but she was stopped by a flash of bright silver light. Reflexively closing her eyes, the lieutenant knew that her mistress had returned to them.
"Thalia," Artemis' voice sounded a bit surprised. "Why are we in the Pine Barrens?"
"Ah, well, after you left somebody spotted this Jersey Devil," Thalia explained, pointing to the monster with her knife. "I decided to take a few of our newer recruits out for a late night hunt. Too bad the damn thing proved fast even though it has basically no muscle on its body. So we were led on for hours until we finally got a few good hits in."
The goddess arched an eyebrow with slight amusement. "You had so much trouble with a simple Jersey Devil? Do I need to look for another lieutenant?" Her good-natured tone let Thalia know that it was meant in jest.
"Like anybody else could deal with you as much as I do," the blue-eyed girl shot back with a huff. "So what news do you bring from Olympus?"
Artemis pursed her lips and shook her head. "The situation across the world is deteriorating. There is trouble brewing, even more than usual. Do you remember those large signatures of power that you felt not too long ago?"
The raven-haired lieutenant nodded her head. It had been nearly impossible to miss the way that the atmosphere almost instantly became charged with an unknown energy. When it had first started, Thalia had been unable to shake the slight prickling feeling that raked over her skin every moment of the day. Random bursts of adrenaline would fill her body as her mind prepared to fight for her life from an unseen foe. Sleep had not come easy for the past four days, which was simply one of the reasons that she had called for the hunt of the Jersey Devil. At least if she were tired, then it would be easier for her body to force itself to rest.
Eventually, much to her relief, the ambient energy had stopped rising. It had stagnated, allowing for her body and mind to adjust slightly to the feeling. While it was still slightly uncomfortable, Thalia had learned to ignore the energy for the most part. Even so, the undertone of unsettling aggravation never truly left her.
"Yeah, I can still feel it as we speak. It's pissing me off," Thalia grunted, crossing her arms. "Was that what the meeting was about? Do you know what this is?"
Artemis replied calmly as she poked at the corpse of the Jersey Devil with her foot. "Yes and no. We aren't sure exactly what the energy is, though we know where it's coming from. Thankfully, it seems to have stopped growing so rapidly, if at all anymore. Unfortunately, the meeting pertained to a certain group of dangerous individuals that we've been alerted to. Apophis has gathered a small following of legendary dragons to his side, ranging from all different cultures and areas. Many of them are god-tier threats, meaning that if they were to act against us, we'd be placed at a disadvantage."
There were some gasps from the other girls. Thalia, for her part, let out a few choice expletives and bit her lip. Already, their Scandinavian allies had been pushed hard against Surtr's forces. Thalia and a few of the other senior hunters had asked if they could help in some way, but Artemis had been wary of allowing them to aid the Norse physically. True enough, Thalia wasn't excited to fight against an organized army after the Second Titanomachy and Second Gigantomachy. Still, she knew that leaving the Norse to fend for themselves was asking for disaster. Surtr was more than likely not ready to simply accept the Asgardian defeat, and would more than likely want to wage war on Midgard as well. That being said, she quite liked living on a planet that wasn't covered in lava and ash, meaning that even if it meant fighting once more on the front-lines, she would do so with only a little hesitation. It was a shame then, at least in her opinion, that not many shared her sentiments in the Greco/Roman cultures.
"Dragons, eh? Well damn, he's really going all-out against the Egyptians then," The daughter of Zeus responded with some discontent. "Apophis… do we know his goal at least? If it's world domination then apart from being cliche, he'll more than likely have to fight against Surtr at some point. With that in mind, we might be able to turn them against one another early on before anything escalates to the point of being unsalvageable."
"His motives are unknown," Artemis frowned. "He holds a heavy grudge against Ra, but that's a given considering their contradictory natures. He being a deity of darkness and Ra being one of light. Then, of course, one can't forget that he constantly attempted to swallow Ra's barge thousands of years ago. As it stands, I'm sure that they aren't on the best of terms. Hopefully that means that Apophis aims for simple revenge."
"But knowing gods, he won't be satisfied with just that should he succeed," Thalia guessed with a snort. "Do we know how things are at the Egyptians' home?"
Artemis shrugged casually. "No. They are understandably tight-lipped about what goes on within their territory. Either way, they'll eventually be forced to reveal something. Whether it is about their defeat or victory, well, that will rest in their own hands. However, I wish to ask you if you are still considering becoming part of the volunteer force to help the Norse."
Thalia replied slowly. "I am. We should help them now before things escalate in their part of the world. If they go down, then Surtr will have free reign of their territory, right before he launches a full-scale invasion on the rest of the earth. If we can stop him before that happens, I think things will go a lot smoother, don't you?"
The goddess gave her lieutenant a reluctant nod. "Yes, you're correct on that front. I don't like the way things are going, but eventually we may very well have to rely on sending our own kinsmen in order to assist the Norse. With that in mind, I'm going to ask that the Hunt stay at Camp Half-Blood for a week or so while the Olympians try to figure out what that energy signaled, if anything."
"If that's what you want," Thalia said.
Artemis smiled at her raven-haired friend. "Then let's go collect the rest of the Hunt and be on our way."
Scarlet-red and sea-green eyes stared at the incline that led up to their ultimate destination. The taxi that had brought them left, with Percy and Scáthach staring at the slightly imposing climb up the hill. The son of Poseidon felt his stomach twist in knots as he recalled the memories that he had of his time at camp. Five years had passed since he'd last seen those in camp. He was sure that things had changed substantially. Certainly, he hadn't stagnated in many senses of the word. Perhaps emotionally he was a bit stunted, but combat wise he'd taken massive leaps. He was far more skilled with his sword than ever before, not to mention the curses that amplified his abilities to match the gods.
Percy took a small amount of vindictive pleasure in knowing that he'd more than likely surpassed many of his old friends. He doubted that many of them could say that they'd defeated a god such as the likes of Crom Cruach. Nor had any of them been trained by a gaggle of legendary warriors from times past. At least not that he knew of. Yes, he definitely felt a sense of worth incorporating itself into his accomplishments since he'd been under the care of Angra Mainyu. Through his blood and sweat―and occasional tears―he'd grown significantly.
Percy knew that it was perhaps irrational of him to feel so pleased. He knew that there was little to gain by fueling his hubris. In the end, though, the Hero of Olympus stood tall with his hands in his pockets as he stared at Half-Blood Hill. Pride coursed through his veins as he realized that the time spent away from his old life had not been wasted. He would never allow himself to stagnate, not in the world that he lived in. So long as those he cared for were placed in danger, he could never allow himself to grow complacent. Only once the world had achieved true peace could he find it in himself to relax fully. When that day came―should it ever―he'd happily let his legacy remain untouched. Until that day, however, Percy would fight. As such, he'd always improve in some way.
Feeling a weight press itself on his shoulder, the young man turned to see Scáthach place her hand down in reassurance.
"Do you need a minute?" The woman asked gently. Her eyes bore into his own as he gave her a tired shake of his head.
"I should be good to go. I've actually spent hours going over what I would say to them. All in my mind of course," Percy replied wryly. "But as soon as I saw the hill again, I just can't bring myself to take the first step back into their world. It shouldn't be this hard, I know it shouldn't… but then… why is it that I can't stop my hand from shaking?" He asked, as his eyes dropped to his twitching fingers and trembling arm.
Scáthach grabbed his hand in her own, placing the other on his bicep as she held him close. She looked at him with a hint of understanding, before releasing his now still arm. Taking a step back, the warrior-woman gestured to the hill with her head. "That place has no power over you… that is… unless you allow it to wield sway. Trust me when I say that."
Percy nodded his head after a moment of hesitation. "You must have felt that way in Scotland, huh?"
"Yes," the witch affirmed. "It was certainly not easy to walk onto the fields where I used to walk. Where I trained my student, and where I held my daughter close. Where I watched as she grew and laughed and cried. But when you and I walked those fields… there was nothing left but ghosts and memories. The remembrance of times long past, and of what my hands will never hold again. Yet, even then, I knew that I didn't deserve to hold anything. Not her, not Setanta, nothing."
"But you kept going, even through all of that pain," Percy stated, looking away from the woman. He stared at the tree-covered hill, the sense of foreboding slowly abating as Scáthach spoke.
"Of course. I had no other option in that moment. Either move forward or die. We're warriors, Percy. We go from one battle to another, always trudging through the blood, mud, and pain to reach out goals," Scáthach replied softly. "I had no right to feel guilty because I'd brought upon all of my suffering on myself. You, however, have no need to feel guilt or conflict," The woman said while placing a hand on his cheek. She turned his head to face her. "So hold your head up high and show them what you've accomplished. The Percy Jackson I fought on that very hill was not afraid of certain death. So then why should you, a greater man than he was, fear this?"
Percy glanced down at his feet for a few seconds as he mulled her words over. True enough, he'd been strong to face her with his crumbling resolve five years prior. Even then, when he was sure that it would be his loss, he'd gone forward and attacked with everything. So then, for him, it made little sense to hesitate after all that had happened. There was no reason for him to stay his feet or to stagnate in any way. He would move forward into the future that he carved with his own blade.
The former demigod gave his friend a clap on the shoulder. "Thanks. I needed that."
"Of course," Scáthach replied with a shrug. "You can't be bogged down by something like self-remorse or loathing. That isn't who I fought all those years ago. That isn't who I trained and bled next to. You're so much more than that, so don't you ever forget it." She smirked at him. "If you do, I'll do my best to remind you of who you really are."
Percy chuckled with a shake of his head. "I'll leave it to you then."
Without any further hesitation the son of Poseidon began to move up the hill. It was nearing six in the evening, meaning that if camp regulations hadn't changed since he'd last attended, dinner would be nearing full swing soon. That being said, he and his companion wouldn't be able to just stride right into camp.
For one, it was unclear of whether or not the magical barrier surrounding camp would let him pass. While technically he was still his father's son, Percy wasn't sure whether or not the barrier would recognize that. Ahriman had stripped him of his partial divinity years ago. Truly a great loss. Scáthach herself was no demigod, meaning that she herself wouldn't be able to enter the camp. To add, there were regularly scheduled patrols wandering the edge of the internal barrier. The two of them would undoubtedly be spotted even if they were able to enter the barrier themselves.
Percy soon found the small foot trail that would lead them directly to the main entrance. As he walked, his thoughts drifted to the others that he had come to grow fond of. Mordred and Muramasa had been sent to Mexico, while Lü Bu and Genghis Khan had gone to Cambodia. If those four encountered the same kind of reception that he and Scáthach had, Percy couldn't help but worry for their well-being. Each was a fearsome warrior in their own right, yet a combatant like Crom Cruach would be more than difficult for either pair to fight on their own.
For all intents and purposes, Percy himself was practically knocking on death's door at the end of his fight with Crom. If any other gods proved themselves to be as strong as Crom Cruach, then the war would become much more difficult than he'd originally anticipated. True enough, he never anticipated the war to be a cake-walk, even if that was a well-buried hope of his. That being said, Percy was unsure of what to expect, especially when it came to his own participation. Angra Mainyu was a tight-lipped individual, even to those that he relied on to assist him, as such he hadn't given Percy a solid idea of the future course that he intended to plot.
Scáthach bumped Percy on the shoulder to shake him out of his personal musings. The young man glanced to his left, seeing that his friend had stopped walking entirely. His eyes tore themselves away from Scáthach, finding what she was staring at without expression. Standing strong only a dozen feet away from Percy was the massive archway of white marble. Near the apex of the arch was inscribed the name of the location. Camp Half-Blood.
A few feet away from the arch was a large pine tree. Percy stared at Thalia's Pine for a few moments, having noticed the distinct lack of any kind of protection around it. He was sure that Peleus would have stayed to guard the Golden Fleece, which still sat upon the branches of the pine tree, glimmering in the evening sunlight. Before he could think on the matter further, a voice called out to him and Scáthach.
"Excuse me! Do you have any business being up here?"
Percy looked at the boy who had spoken. He was fairly young looking, perhaps no older than fourteen or fifteen years old. The boy was dressed casually in the orange camp t-shirt and black cargo shorts. His features were slightly pointed, giving him a naturally mischievous appearance, leading Percy to believe that he was a child of Hermes.
"Yes, actually. Would you mind giving us permission to enter your camp? We have some things to discuss with Chiron and the other officials of Camp Half-Blood," Percy replied politely. He stepped forward until he felt something stop him from moving further. It was almost like he was fighting against a strong wind, trying to push ahead even as it pushed back against him. Soon enough, he stopped struggling and took several steps back. "As you can see, my companion and I don't have access without your given word."
"Vampires?" The boy asked uncertainly.
Percy almost palmed his face at hearing the odd conclusion that had been reached. His mouth twitched at the corners to form a minuscule smirk. "Yes! And vee've come to zsuck your bloooood, and that uf your fameely!" He said in a cliché Transylvanian vampiric accent. He figured that he might as well have some fun before things got hectic and awkward.
Scáthach lightly swatted Percy's shoulder as she chuckled softly. The boy on the other side of the barrier shook his head and cracked a smile. "Not vampires, that's for sure. Your accent could use some work, otherwise it just sounds ridiculous."
With a shrug Percy dismissed the comment. "Hey, I tried. No, but seriously, can you just let us in?"
The boy looked at them oddly. "Well, normally I'd have to say no, but for some reason I feel like saying that wouldn't make you two leave. Let's see… how to handle this situation… can you tell me your names?"
"Care to trade for that information?" Percy asked with a shrug.
The other boy nodded. "Kevin Post, son of Hermes."
"I'm Percy Jackson, and that's Scáthach," the son of Poseidon said while pointing at himself and his friend. "I'm kind of a big deal around here, if you didn't already know," Percy said casually while yawning.
Upon hearing the name spoken Kevin balked.
Percy noted the way his eyes widened and his mouth dropped open slightly. Sighing, the young man shook his head as he waited expectantly for Kevin to snap out of his stupor. After a few seconds, the son of Hermes finally clamped his mouth shut and stumbled back with a finger pointed at the Hero of Olympus.
"You're…? But… how…?" Kevin's voice was slightly awed at seeing Percy smile. The question was to be expected of course, though, he didn't want to repeat his explanations too much.
"Would you mind either letting us in or getting somebody to come and verify what I just said. Due to the time changes and jet lag, I'm pretty tired. Getting things out of the way in one fell swoop and then going to sleep sounds amazing right now," Percy said, stifling another yawn with his hand.
Kevin nodded rapidly and turned around, his steps pounding the dirt as he ran away from the property line. Percy gave Scáthach a curious glance at seeing the witch stuff her hands in her pockets. The woman leaned against a tree with her shoulder and stared at the marble archway before them. Percy walked up to her and bumped his hip against hers, leading her to return the favor with a small smile on her face.
"Drachma for your thoughts?" The son of Poseidon asked gently.
The woman said nothing for some time before she shook her head. "I was just reminiscing of the time I almost killed you on this hill. We've come a long way since that point, but is it odd to think that so little about you has changed?"
For his part, Percy simply gave her a half-hearted shrug. His shoulders rose and fell smoothly as he let out a soft breath through his nose. "What can I say? I'm a very stubborn man when I want to be. Especially when it's in regards to something important to me. In a way, I'm awesome like that."
Scáthach lifted a delicate eyebrow at his words. "Yes, well, your ever so humbling opinions of yourself aside, I must admit that your tenacity continues to surprise and uplift me. Be that as it may, however, I do hope that one day you can curb your 'fatal flaw' and become a proper functioning human being. It's very natural to be selfish in regards to your own life you know?"
"True enough." Percy conceded with a small chuckle. "Still, if I'm honest with you and myself… when I save people it's for completely selfish reasons. I guess you can praise me for being the savior… but when it comes down to it… I shouldn't be praised for the reason behind my actions."
There was a small pause in their conversation as Scáthach mulled her friend's confession over. Before she could retort however, a powerful presence made itself known to the two warriors. Percy stood a bit more rigidly as he eyed where the presence was approaching from. His left hand twitched as he itched to manifest his sword, preparing for the possibility of conflict. What he saw, though, immediately put a stop to all thoughts of violence and helped plaster a wide grin on his face.
On the crest of the hill, just underneath the archway that led into camp stood a young girl. She wore a conservative brown robe with a shawl of the same color. Her face was appropriately proportioned for her age, soft and slightly encumbered by the barest hints of chubbiness. Her eyes danced with fire though, smoldering like the embers of a campfire. Or a hearth.
"Hestia!" Percy greeted politely with a wave of his hand. The smile never left his face even as the goddess regarded him with incredulity. "It's been a long time, how's it going?"
The goddess didn't respond to Percy's inquiry, instead opting to stare at the young man instead. The three of them stood for what seemed like hours, Percy's smile slowly slipping from his face as the muscles used to hold them in place grew tired. As his face fell, Hestia's went through several stages of response, each in quick succession. Finally, she took a small step forward, her expression sorrowful as she continued to watch her nephew closely.
"Percy… what… what… did… what did he do to you?" Hestia croaked. The goddess walked up to Percy, passing through the barrier in order to stand before him. She craned her neck in order to look at him in the eye, considering their height difference. When in her preferred form, Hestia only reached up to Percy's stomach, making eye contact difficult.
The son of Poseidon cocked his head to the side as he observed her. Even though the smile had slipped from his mouth, his general visage remained pleasant and gentle. "Well, it's good to see you too, Aunt Hestia. Why is it that I'm the only one giving a proper greeting?" Percy asked teasingly.
Hestia leveled her worried eyes on his own, not backing down from her previous question. The small goddess pulled Percy down to her height by grabbing his shirt. With a small yelp the young man was brought down so that Hestia could stare straight into Percy's green eyes.
Scáthach went to step in between the two; though, she was stopped by a small glare sent her way by the Goddess of the Hearth. The magenta-haired woman raised her hands in surrender and moved back to lean against the tree, acting casual as Percy sent her a plea for help. With a small shake of her head, Scáthach indicated that he was on his own.
"Percy," Hestia's voice brought the young man's eyes back to her own. Upon seeing the dim flames, the son of Poseidon almost wanted to glance away again. "What. Did. He. Do. To. You." Her harsh and demanding voice curbed some of Percy's earlier anticipation for his return.
"Eh… can you describe what… exactly… you're referring to?" Percy questioned hesitantly, not wishing to awaken the ire of his favorite aunt. "There were a lot of things that happened."
Hestia kept her hands gripped tightly on Percy's shirt, crumpling the cotton material in her fists. "I'm referring to that vile blight that's been imposed upon you. That… that… taint… which lurks within your soul," Hestia spat acrimoniously, pulling Percy closer to her face as she did so. Her baleful glare nearly sent a shiver down Percy's spine. The venom in her voice would be enough to kill a man ten times over.
"A-Ah… that…" Percy faltered, his eyes leaving her face and staring at the ground. "Well, unfortunately, I was given a couple of new curses. Their easier for me to use, since I'm more attuned to what they embody. I can only assume that's what you're feeling right now," Percy admitted weakly.
Hestia stared at her nephew for a few moments longer, her gaze skeptical as she looked into Percy's sea-green eyes. Suddenly, she released her grasp on him, allowing the young man to straighten himself. The goddess took a few steps back and erupted into a column of fire. Percy and Scáthach both covered their faces as the heat washed over them. While the flames weren't uncomfortably hot, they were still too warm to simply ignore and stare at.
When the heat subsided and the fire died down, Hestia reappeared in a more mature form. As it was, she seemed to have aged decades, giving the impression of a woman in her early thirties or late twenties. While the goddess still wore her long brown robe, she had forgone the shawl that normally took residence on her head. Instead, her long chestnut brown hair was let down to freely flow.
Hestia looked down at her appearance, then with a nod, she reached out and grabbed Percy in a tight hug. Immediately, the son of Poseidon wrapped his own arms around the goddess, pushing his face into the crook of her neck. The warmth she emitted reminded him of when he would often talk to her around camp after the Second Gigantomachy. He cherished those moments when he could speak with his aunt about nothing in particular. He'd never attempted to burden her with his own troubles, nor had he done so with Thalia, but they still managed to help with the nearly crippling anxiety that would occasionally grip his heart. While it was true the Percy felt closer to Thalia, it was mostly due to him allowing himself to attach himself to her. After all, Hestia was a goddess, not someone that he could easily fraternize with considering the laws in place.
With a small shudder, the son of Poseidon allowed himself to soak in the heat from Hestia's body. His grip around her tightened a bit as he felt the goddess shift in his arms. Soon, the two pulled away from one another. Percy smiled at Hestia while she returned his enthusiasm in full.
"It's good to see you again, nephew. It's been fairly lonely without you to talk to on occasion here at camp," The Goddess of the Hearth said softly. "I'm glad that you came back to us."
"Where else would I go? This place was like home to me when I was younger. I loved coming to camp after each failed school year. It helped me forget about a lot of my normal person troubles, and instead I got to deal with crazier shit that went down each year in succession," Percy responded cheekily. He smirked when Hestia lightly laughed at his statement, glad to see his aunt looking more lively.
"As derisive as usual I see. At least you've stayed the same despite what happened to you," Hestia smiled, running a hand through his windswept black hair. "You still look the same too. Who's been cutting your hair all these years?"
Percy's eyes flitted to his companion for a moment. Hestia lost her smile as her eyes followed suit, locking onto the lackadaisical form of Scáthach, still leaning against the same tree. The goddess stared at the witch of Dún Scáith with slight agitation in her expression.
For her part, Scáthach winked at Percy with a coy smirk. "Somebody had to take charge in our group to do haircuts. I decided to do so since I'd already gotten some experience a couple of thousand years back," The warrior-woman explained to Hestia with a dismissive shrug.
"Percy, why is the woman who stabbed you five years ago accompanying you?" Hestia asked, turning her attention from the other woman back to Percy.
The young man shook his head and looked toward the crest of the hill, his expression growing slightly apprehensive. "Can we talk with the others… it looks like we've got company."
Scáthach and Hestia turned their attention to where Percy had his. Both understood why Percy reacted as he had almost immediately. Standing on the hill was a large contingent of campers, each of them with their eyes locked on the twice lost Hero of Olympus.
"Hey, Hestia," Percy started, garnering the goddess' attention. "Can you hold off on telling the other Olympians that I'm back, at least for tonight. Tomorrow I was thinking we could have a nice discussion regarding certain events and whatnot."
Hestia looked at her nephew with a sad smile. "Of course. While normally I would want to immediately bring this news to at least your father, I'll refrain from doing so. But you should know mister, you have a lot of explaining to do."
The young man chuckled softly. "Of course, Aunt Hestia."
Rubbing the back of his neck Percy saw some of his old friends interspersed within the crowd. His eyes trailed idly through the mass of faces, searching for the two that had haunted him for five years. Finally, he spotted a mass of long blonde hair that trailed down to frame a familiar face that he'd fallen in love with. The sheer disbelief that constructed her expression would have been a memory to cherish had there not been signs of tears in her eyes. The hill was far from silent, with mutterings roaming through the conglomeration of bodies, no doubt questioning the validity of Percy's claim to who he was. To him, though, those people were not who he sought approval from. With a tentative wave, he gave a weak smile at the girl who had given him so much strength, yet still caused him so much pain.
Just as went to move toward her, the glint of something silver caught his attention. From the corner of his eye, the son of Poseidon noticed the bow being held, pointed at him. No. Not at him. To his left, maybe?
'Shit!'
A streak of silver was the only warning Scáthach received that she was being targeted. Before she could react properly, Percy's hand shot in front of her. The arrow that had been fired pierced through the middle of his palm. The momentum of the arrow carried through Percy's arm, jerking the entirety of his upper body to the side as he staggered back.
"Fucking hell," Percy griped as he grabbed the wrist of his injured appendage. He glanced to where the arrow had been fired from. His eyes softened as he saw the horrified looking Thalia, her bow dropped to the ground, staring back at him with wide eyes.
Scáthach immediately went down to kneel by Percy's side as she examined his wound. The arrow was still embedded deep into his palm, actually exiting out the back of his hand. Blood dripped from his fingers and fell to the dirt below. The green-eyed man gently pushed Scáthach away as he looked over the injury himself. Thankfully, the arrowhead was of the bodkin variety, meaning that it had less surface area, leading to less soft tissue damage. In addition, it would be far less painful to yank out than if it had been a broadhead. Without hesitation, Percy grasped the fletching of the arrow and pulled.
He dropped the bloodied weapon to the ground and flexed his hand, feeling the sting as he healed himself. It was a small wound in comparison to some of those he received earlier that week. Even though that was the case, however, the pain was still there. He grunted as the hole disappeared within seconds, the tissue knitting itself back to how it was and skin covering the pink substance.
"Are you okay?" Scáthach asked, taking his hand in her own and running her fingers over where the hole had once been. Percy frowned at her and withdrew his arm. She knew very well that the arrow had only caused a trivial wound. He'd healed far worst that she herself had delivered. Her zeal in assuring his well-being unnerved him a bit even as she huffed and looked away.
"Of course I am. You know that I am," Percy responded as he looked away from his mentor. "No reason to flip out over it. Just a flesh wound."
Scáthach sighed and nodded her head. "Sure, whatever you say. So what are we going to do about them?" the witch asked, gesturing toward the mass of people stationed on the hill, whispering to one another after the display Percy had put on.
Percy said nothing for a few moments as he let his eyes flit between Annabeth and Thalia. "Stay close to me while I explain things. I wouldn't try to antagonize anybody too much if I were you. Hopefully, we can get the story out of the way and answer questions before midnight. I guess all we can do is hope for a fairly peaceful discussion."
"So long story short," Percy said as he took a bite out of his baked potato. "It's been fucking crazy. This past week has been nothing but a major pain in my ass. Trust me when I say, I'd like to do nothing more than sleep right now. I didn't have many good nights of sleep in Scotland, considering there was a group of newly resurrected gods around."
The son of Poseidon let his vision wander throughout the room.
Soon after he had stopped the arrow from potentially hitting Scáthach, he had been brought to the Big House by Chiron, who had managed to disperse the massive crowd. Percy had only managed to catch a few glimpses of the new Camp Half-Blood, but from what he did see, it was looking better than ever before. Structures had been updated slightly, looking a bit better after having been remodeled with different materials. He'd been promised a tour of the improved camp after his explanations had been given. It was obvious that practically everybody had questions that they wanted answers to, but thankfully Chiron assumed that Percy would rather speak without interruption. As such, he had filtered the people that would hear the story directly to only the cabin counselors and a few of the older campers. They could then pass the story along to the others.
Percy found the situation to be far easier to handle than standing on a podium in the middle of the mess hall trying to speak loud enough so that everybody could hear. If that were the case, he was sure that there would be interruptions abound, especially from those not already familiar with him, or the supernatural world in general. Instead, he had a smaller, more captive audience in a much more private setting. Those that were to hear his story had been told to gather their food and move to the Big House for the more intimate details.
Chiron had practically forbid questions being thrown at Percy, even by the older campers. He'd managed to take command in a difficult situation, truly showing why he was such a respected figure. Unfortunately, due to the lack of questions, an awkward silence had descended upon the group of senior campers, cabin leaders, and Percy. In addition to the silence, there was a certain tension that lingered between the campers and Scáthach, who seemed unapologetic in the way she casually dismissed the suspicious and sometimes antagonistic glances directed her way. Percy walked directly next to his magenta-haired mentor in order to dissuade some of the hostility. Much to his chagrin, however, it didn't really work.
When they had entered the Big House and taken their seats around a circular table made of polished wood, Percy recounted his tale. He attempted to fit as much as he could without revealing―what he considered to be―the more disturbing details of his mental training. He also decided to leave out his meeting with Chaos.
Percy spoke with a more detached and clinical tone, attempting to remain impartial in his retelling. It was his hope that in doing so, he could at least draw some resentment away from Ahriman and his group. While there was no love lost between the son of Poseidon and the God of Evil, he wanted to at least show the campers that his time spent in Purgatory wasn't complete torture. It would be necessary for a certain level of trust to be built between Ahriman's group and the Greco/Roman culture; if not forever, at least then for the duration of the fight against Spenta Mainyu and his cohorts. Besides, if he managed to accomplish the task set by Chaos, Angra Mainyu would be dead before even his brother.
Percy took a sip from his water and looked at it with slight disappointment. Shrugging, the young man finished it off, moistening his lips, which had become slightly chapped due to the constant speaking. Taking his knife into his hand, he cut the remainder of his ham into smaller pieces. He'd focused on his story too much, and as such, his food grew colder than he would have liked it. Looking back up the young man saw the varying expressions of his old friends. Placing a chunk of ham into his mouth, he chewed slowly as he waited for the questions that were sure to come. Scáthach sat next to him, already having finished her own plate of food long ago. She absently sipped at her orange juice, her eyes never stopped moving from person to person, as if waiting for one of them to spring and attack.
The son of Poseidon nudged her gently with his elbow, hoping to calm her. He figured that only six or seven out of the twenty people in the room would actually even attempt to attack her. Even then, Percy was sure that she had nothing to worry about, least of all her own safety. She was a powerful fighter, more than strong and skilled enough to non-lethally incapacitate anybody who would try to harm her. Well, almost anybody. That aside, she must have already known that he himself would jump in to defend her. He'd already taken an arrow to the hand for her, after all.
Scáthach glanced at him briefly. Seeing his expectant expression, the witch leaned back in her chair slightly and smiled over the rim of her glass at him. It was then that somebody cleared their throat, bringing Percy's attention to them.
"So, what you're saying, is that this goes beyond a few groups of gods trying to topple their own cultures' regimes. We've got a crazy god bent on his own revenge quest against humanity and Angra Mainyu, who is more than likely pulling the strings from afar?" Annabeth's voice was slightly incredulous, though Percy couldn't rightfully blame her. In truth, the young man could respect that she was taking his story quite seriously. In addition, her maturity in the situation was greatly appreciated, seeing as she was the only one who had spoken. However, underneath her composed exterior, the son of Poseidon could see the way her fists were clenched on the table, as well as how her eyes occasionally fired hateful glares at Scáthach.
"That's the gist of it," Percy responded softly. "I'm sure that it sounds pretty out there, but I have to ask that you believe me. We have our own small force to fight Spenta Mainyu, but he has too many gods technically supporting him. They each have their own desires and for now, they stand divided. However, if they manage to come together though and a chain of command is truly established, things might get real ugly."
Annabeth stared at the table for a few moments, apparently lost in her own thoughts of the situation. "A gaggle of gods working together, but each group having their own separate motive behind their actions. The Celts, as you learned, want to gain respect, recognition, and reverence. Surtr wants to kill the Asgardians and mold the nine realms similar to that of Muspelheim. Apophis may simply seek revenge on Ra. The Danavas wish to usurp the powers of the Hindu pantheon. There are certainly conflicts of interests. Surtr perhaps would be the one that wishes to help Spenta Mainyu the most, while the others are simply using his hastily gathered coalition in order to bolster their own numbers before they attempt to split away and pursue their true goals. Yet, even should their group falter and fall apart, they wouldn't be stupid enough to separate before their enemies are quashed." Annabeth's mutterings made Percy pause as he contemplated her train of thought.
"If we can find a way to create rifts in their shaky entente, it would not be a stretch to imagine that they could be divided and conquered that way," Scáthach stated, speaking for the first time since she'd arrived in Camp Half-Blood.
"It's not a matter of driving them apart right now," Hestia said calmly, gaining a skeptical glance from the witch. "As it stands, they aren't working in conjunction with one another. Like a very decentralized empire, they are each like their own kingdom with vast control over their own forces. They may fly the same overarching flag, but for the most part, unless their liege calls them into battle, they push their own agendas. That could very well lead to one kingdom being taken over by another."
"And as such," Annabeth continued, gaining steam from Hestia's metaphor. "As long as we stop the empire from gaining further centralization, we can keep each kingdom separate. Keep them occupied with their own problems, then strike each without the support of the others. If we allow them too much leeway, Spenta Mainyu could call them together, forming a more orderly conglomeration. Should that happen, we could expect a long and tedious struggle."
Percy nodded his head in understanding, as did many of the campers gathered in the Big House. Chiron's face seemed grave as he stared at the faces of the people in the room. Finally, he settled on Percy and gave a resigned sigh.
"Another great conflict is upon us then. It's good you brought this information to our attention, Percy. We did not realize how far this truly extended, although we had our suspicions of the web that was being weaved by another entity," The ancient centaur said with a small smile.
"You believe me then?" Percy asked hopefully. He'd been genuinely worried about being written off as a raving madman. Hell, if he were in their position even he would have doubts about the guy who just came back after five years of being in the care of the God of Evil. The son of Poseidon wasn't naïve enough to think that they weren't slightly skeptical about certain things. That being said, he didn't care as long as they took his warning at least semi-seriously and brought it to the attention of the Olympian council.
Looking around at the faces placed near him, he saw many of them looking dour or anxious. Many heads bobbed up and down when his eyes rested on theirs, leading Percy to let loose a small sigh of relief and pushed his hands to the sky. "Praise the lord! Now, please say that we're done, 'cause I could really go for a nice warm bed and the feeling of relative safety while I sleep tonight. Do you mind if I stay here in the Big House?"
Chiron looked at Percy, then at Scáthach, before he shook his head. "I have no problems with that. Do you mind me asking why you won't stay in Cabin 3 however?"
For his part, Percy shrugged. "Well, since I asked Hestia not to inform the gods of my return until we meet them tomorrow, I would feel weird sleeping in my old cabin. I'm not sure if Dad would be able to feel me when I enter. I'd rather not tempt fate and just go to sleep without fear of being blasted into oblivion."
"Ah, yes I suppose I can't argue that," Chiron conceded with a nod. "Yes, well, you can stay here. We've added a few guest rooms after the expansions to the Big House, so you and your companion can choose from one that is empty."
The son of Poseidon felt his eye twitch at the―likely unintentional―insinuation on his old mentor's part. A quick scan of the room revealed that Annabeth was clenching her jaw tightly if the tension in her neck was anything to go by. Thalia, who had remained silent the entire discussion was fiddling with a hunting knife, her expression apathetic as she stared at the table. The other campers were looking between Scáthach, Percy, and Annabeth with slightly worried expressions.
Noting the tension in the air, Percy decided to clear the obvious misconception. "Erm, n-no, Scáthach and I aren't together in that sense. Or rather… well… it's actually… well not in an official… well shit… look we don't sleep together or anything." It was unfortunate then, that his words were less than eloquent even to his own ears as he stumbled for an explanation.
Scáthach, however, decided to ignore his previous warning and made the situation worse than it had been initially. "Well, that's not exactly true. After your fight against Crom Cruach, we managed to drift off together in a well-deserved sleep. Together might I add." Yes, that could certainly be seen as antagonizing a few people in the room, much to Percy's vexation.
Percy slammed his head down on the table. "That was a one-time thing. I was exhausted from fighting a god," he mumbled from his face-down position.
"Ah, but have you already forgotten when you were really drunk and practically jumped under the sheets of my bed with me still in it?" Scáthach retorted smugly.
"Doesn't count, I was drunk. Everybody makes mistakes when they're inebriated," Percy shot back as he raised his head. "Besides, I was insinuating a more… erm… well… a different kind of relationship."
"Yes, I understood that. I just couldn't pass up the chance to tease you about your drunken carousing. Looking back, I think you might have a problem," Scáthach admitted with a small smirk.
"I don't have a problem. I don't get drunk all the time, hardly ever honestly. I moderate myself, which is more than I can say for you and your drink of choice. Seriously, you drink orange juice whenever you have the chance. I think Floridian orange farmers have to work overtime just to satiate your thirst," Percy said with a roll of his eyes.
"You weren't complaining when I introduced you to Mimosa's a couple of years back. If I recall you knocked those back pretty fast. May I remind you that Mimosa's are in fact half champagne and half orange juice," Scáthach replied haughtily.
Percy sighed and shook his head. "Yeah, they were pretty good, but I prefer the harder stuff anyway. The burn helps me recognize that what I'm doing is not without consequence. Then again, I probably don't have to really worry about diseases that destroy my cells, considering I can just regenerate them."
"Long-term alcohol abuse can lead to serious health issues, both physical and mental," Annabeth chided with worry and slight fear lacing her tone. "Percy, your regenerative properties won't help you if you suffer a major epileptic seizure while in the middle of a fight. Or if you have a massive stroke when you least expect it. You could die before even having the chance to heal yourself."
"R-Right. I… I guess I could tone it down a bit," Percy replied without looking Annabeth in the eye. He coughed into his fist softly before turning to Chiron. "Can you show me and Scáthach the rooms that are up for grabs?"
Taking the cue, the centaur nodded his head and announced that the meeting was over. People shuffled rather awkwardly past Percy, clapping him on the back or giving him rather weak smiles. Everybody told him they were glad that he was back. Nobody apologized for their previous behavior. In a way, Percy didn't feel that they really needed to. He could see it etched into their features as he had recounted his grand tale. Even though none of them vocalized their guilt, there was still a feeling of culpability palpable in the air. Percy had no doubt that they were all deeply affected by the way they acted years prior. It was in the way they looked at him, the way they stared at the floor or glanced away when he made eye contact, the way they said nothing out of respect for him while he explained the situation, and in the way they all seemingly accepted the grave nature of his reappearance.
Hestia filed out at the end of the line of campers. She had retained her much older form throughout the meeting, as such when she hugged Percy again, it was easier for the young man to return the gesture in full. The goddess tilted her head so that her mouth was next to his ear, allowing her intimate access to speak to him so that nobody else could hear.
"It's so good to have you back. Remember, you're family to me, Percy. If you ever need to talk about something, I'll be around. Don't hesitate to come to me. You are my favorite nephew after all," the goddess whispered conspiratorially. She pulled away from him and gave him a small smile, before she too left the room.
Eventually there were only five left in the room. Thalia was still fiddling with her knife, occasionally twirling it between her fingers before she caught it with expert precision. Chiron was nervously looking between everybody, his apprehension visible in his features. Scáthach was leaning forward in her chair as she traced random shapes on the polished table with her finger. Her scarlet red eyes would flicker up at times, casting measuring glances at both of the other women in the room. Annabeth had become more anxious, conveyed by the way she wrung her hands, staring at Percy, before moving her colder gaze toward Scáthach and to a lesser extent, Thalia. Percy himself was doing his best not to breathe a loud sigh of exasperation at the understandable tension.
"I was hoping," Annabeth said, finally breaking the silence that pervaded the room. "That I would be able to speak to Percy."
"Go right ahead, nobody's stopping you from conversation right?" Scáthach responded blandly, not bothering to meet Annabeth's eye as she spoke. Her head was propped up on one of her arms while she continued to run a finger over the table.
Annabeth crossed her arms. "I meant that I would like to talk with him alone."
"Really? Wow, I honestly would never have guessed!" Scáthach exclaimed sarcastically. She turned to Percy, her eyes giving him an expectant look. "It's your decision, but if I recall properly, you've been complaining about your exhaustion the whole day. Are you going to go to sleep or stay up and have your ear talked off for the rest of the night?"
When questioned, the son of Poseidon looked back and forth between Annabeth and Scáthach, before he turned his attention to Thalia. "Er, why are you still here Thalia?" Percy asked suddenly, hoping for a quick change in subject so that he could have time to think.
"I wanted to talk to you too. Apparently though, I wasn't the only one with that thought process," the daughter of Zeus said, finally speaking since Percy had returned to camp. Her posture, while not overtly aggressive, did hold signs of irritation. Percy saw Thalia's eyes dart down to his hand for a brief second, but they quickly jumped back to his face. Her face seemed impassive, but from the way she spoke, Percy knew that there was something on her mind.
It was true that Percy had his own reasons to speak to both Thalia and Annabeth, however, he really wouldn't have minded letting the matter rest for another day or so. After all, he'd already waited five years. A period of less than twenty-four hours certainly wouldn't kill him. Yet, as he glanced between the three women in the room, he knew that he was stuck. If he waited another day, he could potentially cause himself more grief down the line. Whatever his choice, whether he talked with Annabeth, Thalia, or went with Scáthach, would indicate some form of favoritism that he was sure would be misinterpreted.
'Might as well bite the bullet now.' He thought with a grim sense of resignation.
Sighing, Percy placated Scáthach by placing his hand on her shoulder. "Go on ahead with Chiron to pick a room to sleep in. I'm gonna stick around to talk with Annabeth and Thalia, okay?"
The magenta-haired woman studied him for a moment, her eyes searching his own. Percy's eyes widened as he saw her lean in a bit closer to him. Before he could react, she moved back to her previous position and gave him a wry grin. The witch nodded at the young man, standing and making her way toward Chiron after she had done so. The two began to talk semi-amicably as the old centaur guided the woman out of the room and further into the Big House. Once their voices were lost in the hallways, Annabeth turned to Thalia, then to Percy.
Just as Annabeth opened her mouth, the lieutenant of Artemis stood up and waved at the two of them. "I can wait until tomorrow. I'd rather you be fresh and really ready to talk instead of dead on your feet. Still, it's good to see you again, Percy. I'm-we-er- I'm glad you're back. Oh, and… uh… sorry about the hand." With that said, she walked to the door and exited the house with a light blush dusting her cheeks, leaving Percy and Annabeth alone in the meeting room.
They were both silent for a few moments.
Annabeth was once again the first to break the awkward atmosphere. "Would you prefer to sit on the couch? It's probably more comfortable than these wood chairs." Her voice was reserved, and she didn't look at Percy in the eye. Her behavior was a far cry from what he'd observed only fifteen minutes prior, when she had taken charge of the conversation regarding the information Percy brought up.
With a nod, the young man stood and made a move for the suede couch that sat near the ping-pong table. Just as Percy reached the halfway point, he was stopped by a hand grabbing the back of his shirt. He turned around, only to find Annabeth standing with wet eyes. The young goddess threw her arms around Percy's body, hooking her elbows around his neck as she pulled him close to her. With only a moment of hesitation, the young man reciprocated her gesture, wrapping his own arms around her waist.
They stood, embracing one another tightly, for a full minute. Neither of them spoke, simply allowing their bodies to press together. Percy allowed himself to draw a breath in, the familiar hues of Annabeth's specific scent bringing too many memories to the front of his mind. There was no way for him to truly describe exactly what she smelled like. Perhaps it was the shampoo she used, or perhaps it was just a natural scent that she emitted, pheromones and the like. He didn't know, nor did he really care at that moment. All that mattered was that the girl he still loved was holding onto him like her life depended on it. All that mattered was that he still mattered to her.
Finally, the two pulled away from the hug.
"I'm so sorry," Annabeth whispered hoarsely. "I'm so… so… so… sorry." Her voice had risen slightly as she repeated her apology. She wiped her fingers across her eyes to rid herself of the moisture that had accumulated. "Percy. You came back. I thought I would have to go and find you… but you came back. I knew that we'd meet again. I've been planning how to apologize for the past five years… but now that you're here… standing in front of me. Gods damn, I have no fucking clue what to actually say to you."
At that, Percy felt the corners of his mouth twitch upward. He allowed himself to form a lopsided smile as he listened to her small rant on the various scenarios she'd envisioned for their reunion. He let her talk for several more seconds before raising a hand and effectively silencing her.
"Annabeth, calm down a bit yeah? I didn't expect a grand 'Welcome Home' fest or anything like that. Not that I wouldn't have enjoyed it to some extent; let's face it though, that dinner was awkward enough wouldn't you say?" Percy said, his smile never slipping.
The goddess stared at him for a moment. She then started chuckling to herself. "Of course, you're right. That was pretty darn awkward. I think more of them were afraid of you and not your… companion."
Percy noted how the blonde stumbled over the word used to describe Scáthach. With that thought alone, he was brought back to the reason he needed to speak with Annabeth in the first place. The anxiety he'd been plagued by for so long once again reared its head, though this time, Percy didn't allow it to cover him completely. He took several calming inhalations, allowing his nerves to soothe each time. If Annabeth noticed his reaction, she didn't comment on it. Percy figured that she must have known that something was on his mind. He was just glad that she was allowing him the time to speak his mind without pushing. Yes, she had definitely matured since they'd last seen each other.
Percy took Annabeth by the hand, leading her to the couch that she had mentioned before. The blonde gave no resistance as she was corralled in the direction that Percy wanted to head. Soon, the two of them were sitting side by side, with Percy still holding onto the goddess' hand, their fingers not quite intertwined. Annabeth moved her legs up onto the couch, slightly tucking them under her body as she turned to face her lover.
"Normally, I feel like I would just want to talk about everything and nothing with you. For now, though, I actually do have something else that… that I feel needs to be discussed instead," Percy said, chewing on the inside of his lip.
Annabeth nodded her head. "Okay. What do you want to talk about then?"
"Well, it's about us. Or… well… I guess what I want to know is-"
"If there is still an us?" Annabeth interrupted softly. Just as Percy went to speak she shook her head and looked away from him. "Percy, what I did to you… I can never forgive myself for leaving you in your time of struggle. It only makes it worst then that I knew you were having problems, yet still I did nothing to help. Through my own fault, you felt alone. As time passed, we saw each other less and I truly thought that you had moved passed whatever it was that haunted you… but now I know that you hadn't moved on… I was just too far away to see it gripping you tighter than ever."
Percy gripped her hand. "You think too much of yourself if you think it was only you. I guess being a goddess really did inflate your ego, huh?" He teased, poking her arm with his index finger. "You can't take the blame, you know that right? You technically did try to help me. You kept asking what was bothering me, but it was me who never gave you the real reason."
The goddess shook her head vigorously. "I should have tried harder! Percy, you can't just play off the fact that you saved me from Tartarus, and that I abandoned you afterward for my own convenience! What I did was despicable. You shouldn't just reconcile so easily with somebody who would hurt you in such a way."
"Do you want me to hate you then? Because as it stands that's exactly what you're arguing," Percy said with an arched eyebrow.
"Are you saying that you really don't? That you're just okay with everything and that it's all in the past?" Annabeth asked incredulously.
Percy snorted. "Of course I'm not okay with what happened to me! I'm not a fucking saint you know. Still, just because I condemn your actions doesn't mean that I condemn you or them. I don't hate any of you, nor do I hate the gods. That being said, I don't particularly have many positive thoughts regarding them. You, on the other hand, I still care for, very deeply."
Annabeth growled a little at hearing his words. "Damn it Percy! Why can't you be a normal person for once and just be angry with me? Why do you always make things sound so simple and yet so complicated at the same time?"
"I owe you too much. You're one of my best friends. You've been there for me since I found out about being a demigod. You helped me through situations that I would have died in were it not for you being there," Percy said as he brought up his hand to caress her face. The goddess allowed herself to nuzzle her cheek into his palm. "You were the reason I could leave the Styx with the Curse of Achilles. You saved me, Annabeth. I love you. I really do, even after everything that's happened."
"I love you too, Percy. Even though that's the case, I really don't deserve to be with you," The goddess whispered. She went to pull away from his touch, but found herself unable to move her head. Percy's hand had reached behind her neck, grasping her in a light but firm hold. She looked into his green eyes, her lips suddenly feeling dry at seeing his vision locked onto her. "Yet, I want to be with you again. I want us. I know it's selfish and completely unwarranted. I know that I shouldn't get another chance. With all that in mind, I still want to hear you say that you love me. I still want to be able to tell you that I feel the same way, even though I have no right."
"Some people may very well see it that way, Annabeth. I, however, don't. So shut up with your self-derogatory comments; I only have so much patience until I snap and say something that would make me look like an ass," Percy commented lightly, a smirk touching his mouth. However, as soon as it came, it had vanished from his face. "That said, I do have to tell you that I'm slightly conflicted at the moment."
The blonde cocked her head to the side ever so slightly. "How do you mean?"
The son of Poseidon looked at her straight in the eye. "During my time away, I began to develop some… er… some romantic inclinations toward others. It's complicated at the moment, but it wouldn't be fair to you or them had I not come clean and told you about it now." Percy took a breath and tore his eyes away from Annabeth. He gathered his wits and let his shoulders relax slightly. After having practiced what to say countless times alone, he'd finally been able to admit the truth. In a way he felt worst about it now that it was in the open, yet another part felt quite a bit lighter than before. He knew in the long run that he would suffer far less from anxiety now that his confession had aired.
Seeing Annabeth's devastated expression, however, caused him to falter in his musings. Going over the conversation in his mind, the young man came to the conclusion that he'd more than likely led Annabeth on, only to come out and crush what hope she had. Even though he freely admitted that he still loved her, he'd also gone and told her that he simply couldn't commit to her alone. Then again, he told Scáthach basically the same thing, though she had already known about his own toils regarding Annabeth and Thalia. At least she had gotten an advanced warning, so that she wouldn't be blindsided by his convictions. The conversation had gone much differently with Annabeth, which Percy didn't account for.
Not for the first time did he curse his own lack of tact when dealing with people. Even though he'd practiced so often, there were still too many variables when dealing with another human being. He could never take into account everything that would be said. As such, he would never be able to truly predict the way a conversation might go and how that would affect his own response in the end. Percy mentally chastised himself for his inconsiderate words. While it was true that there was almost no avoiding sounding like an ass, his intention was never to enact some form of vindictive revenge on Annabeth. He was sure that a lesser person might have enjoyed the crumbling of Annabeth's face and the way her shoulders dropped, yet he could do nothing but sigh and berate himself.
"A-A-Ah. Well… I'm-er-that's… congratulations…" Annabeth said with a weak smile that she forced upon her face. She averted her eyes as she stared at the far wall, her face falling as silence fell throughout the room. Suddenly, her eyes gained steel to them as she whipped her head back toward Percy, giving him a slight shock at seeing the confidence in her expression. "Why are you telling me this though? It would have been easier if you'd just told me that we were done, and that there was nothing between us anymore. Yet you took a more difficult approach. I know you, Percy. At least I like to think I do. The man I love isn't petty enough to tell me that he still loves me despite everything, then go and put me down so easily."
For a moment, Percy said nothing as he stared at the blonde. He was shocked that she'd managed to overcome her own pain quick enough to see that there was an ulterior reason to his admittal. No doubt her mind was racing in an attempt to uncover what those reasons were exactly. Even as he went to answer, Percy was cut off when Annabeth opened her mouth to speak.
"It's her, right?" Annabeth asked, clearly sure of her own inference without needing his affirmative. "The witch of Dún Scáith. Scáthach the god-slayer."
To his credit, Percy gave Annabeth an apologetic glance.
The blonde goddess stared at him. Her face soon gave way to form a wry and pained smile. "So that's how things roll, huh? I can't say I'm not hurt. Don't worry though, I understand how you must have felt. We were apart for five years. We never got to talk about our issues before you were taken, so our relationship was questionable at best, non-existent at worst." She sighed and averted her eyes. "How does your… complicated… relationship with her affect us? You must have told me all of this because you're having trouble with your own emotions."
"I'd like to take some time to think about it. Before that though, I suppose I should ask you about your own intentions. Would you be willing to give me that time in order to sort my feelings? I can understand if you wouldn't be. It's selfish of me to think that you'd just be okay with waiting for me to choose somebody," Percy said while shaking his head.
"Percy, you've had years to think about it already. Are you sure that you're not just scared of letting one of us down? Are you sure that you just don't want to feel guilty about hurting one of us while the other can be happy? Know that I'm not blaming you, even though I might sound confrontational. I just want you to know that if this keeps going, you'll just end up causing yourself, as well as both her and me, more pain than truly necessary" Annabeth explained softly, placing a hand on Percy's chin, lifting his head so that he could look her in the eye.
"It's not just her," Percy replied nervously.
Annabeth gave the son of Poseidon a pat on the cheek. "I thought not. You never specified your 'romantic inclinations' to being relegated to only one person. The way you spoke practically screamed that there was more than one." The blonde goddess gave Percy and exasperated sigh. "Honestly Percy, you've become such a playboy after leaving me. Toying with young maidens' hearts so easily is the sign of an unashamed adulterer. To think it all went wrong when you were once such a chivalrous man."
Percy took her teasing in stride, not letting her words affect him.
"So, who's the other lucky girl?"
Coughing lightly into his fist, Percy quickly spoke the name of his other romantic interest.
Annabeth gave her friend a playful glare. "Sorry, I didn't quite catch that. It almost sounded like you said 'Thalia' though."
"Er, well I may or may not have said her name. Sorry. I know she's one of your best friends, so that might make it worse than normal." Even though Percy wasn't the most knowledgeable when it came to certain topics, he certainly knew that forming an intimate connection with your girlfriend's best friend was probably not the best thing to do. Unless your girlfriend was explicitly fine with that, but he doubted that Annabeth would be okay with it.
"I had a feeling that was the case," Annabeth grumbled to herself softly, her eyes falling to the sofa in thought. Eventually she raised them again. "I hesitate to tell you this, but I think you have the… well… maybe not… but… argh whatever! Listen, Thalia probably feels the same for you. So at least you have that going for you."
"Wait what?" Percy asked suddenly, his attention focused solely on the blonde. "How do you figure?"
Annabeth snorted, though her expression fell a bit. "After Angra Mainyu took you she really laid into me, basically reprimanding me for hours about my behavior toward you. Don't get me wrong, I deserved every word that she said, every name she called me, and every angry glare that I received. That much I can't argue. Even though she was righteously pissed off, I could see the pain that she carried. It felt… odd… the way she acted. She took some time away from the Hunt and Artemis in general. She mostly stuck around camp for whatever reason, but she rarely ever spoke to anybody. Most of the time she would just frown at people when they approached her for any matter. I think I got the worst of it though. Either way, it kinda dawned on me then that she probably had some form of intimacy with you. I never confronted her about it, knowing it wasn't really my place. She was there for you when I wasn't. For that, I'm grateful."
Percy blinked a few times before smiling at Annabeth. "That's a very mature look on things."
"Why does that sound so patronizing coming from you?" Annabeth asked with a small laugh. Without waiting for a response the goddess abruptly stood up. She looked at Percy, who also stood up to reach her level. "It's getting late. I think we both need to think things over after everything that's happened tonight. We'll have more chances to talk in the future, so it shouldn't be a big deal, right?"
"Yeah, I suppose you're right. Thanks for tonight. I'm sure it wasn't easy to hear, hell, it wasn't easy for me to say, but it means a lot that you heard me out to the very end," Percy said, genuine gratitude seeping into his tone and expression.
"Of course," Annabeth replied with a smile. "Thank you for being honest with me."
"Anytime," the son of Poseidon smirked.
The two of them stood apart from one another, both feeling the awkward air settling around them. While one part of Percy wanted to lean forward and capture the goddess' lips, another part decided not to rush. It had been five years since they'd seen one another, and their talk had probably added a bit of tension to their relationship, whatever it may have been.
It was Annabeth who moved first. She took a step and placed a gentle kiss on Percy's lips, chaste in every sense of the word. She lingered for only a moment, hardly enough time for Percy to do anything, before she moved back. With a smile and a nod, the goddess waved at Percy as she turned and walked away.
Just as she reached the door, she turned to call back. "Oh, and if you think I would just sit around and twiddle my thumbs waiting for you to make up your mind, you're a bigger Seaweed Brain than I ever realized. Don't think for a minute that I'll just let the competition walk all over me. I love you, and now that I realized how much I want you in my life, I'll fight for it like never before."
With that said, Annabeth opened the door and left.
Percy watched as she disappeared from his sight. Feeling slightly lighter than he'd been in a long while, the Anti-God left in search of his room for the night.
A/N: (1) Niflheim- One of the Nine Realms in Norse Mythology. A cold world, with mist covering much of it. In some stories it is the home of Hel.
(2) Alfheim- One of the Nine Realms in Norse Mythology. Home to the Light Elves, Alfheim is said to be a world of beautiful proportions.
(3) Aesir-Vanir Coalition- An understanding reached between a few gods of the Vanir Gods, who were reported to be older than the Asgardians. After a war between the Asgardians and Vanir, three gods were sent to live in Asgard as a peace offering. The coalition is not a true alliance, with only the three gods, Njord, Freyr, and Freyja actually assist the Asgardians.
(4) Ljosalf- Light Elves
(5) Jotunheim- One of the Nine Realms in Norse Mythology. Home to the giants of Norse Myth. A wilderness, with little to no fertile soil, leaving it's inhabitants to hunt wild animals to survive.
(6) Draugr- The reanimated bodies of the deceased in Norse Mythology.
(7) Svartalfheim- One of the Nine Realms in Norse Mythology. Home of the Dwarves and Dark Elves. A rocky and mountainous land, the elves typically live in the shadows cast by the largest mountains, while the dwarves tend to reside within the mountains.
(8) Níðhǫggr- The large dragon who ate at the roots of Yggdrasil, the World Tree in Norse Myth.
Aži Dahāka- Creation of Angra Mainyu. A massive dragon with a varying amount of heads, ranging from three to one thousand in different sources. Conceived in order to help fight against Ahura Mazda.
Kaliya- In Hindu Mythology, Kaliya was a great serpent, living within a river poisoned by the serpent itself. Kaliya had been frightened away from it's original home, settling in the one place that it's foe could not chase. Kaliya, however, was later subdued by Krishna, a major Hindu deity.
Fafnir- Once the son of a dwarf king, Fafnir was cursed, turning him into a dragon after murdering his father due to his greed. Fafnir went on to horde and guard an obscene amount of gold until he was slain by the hero Sigurd.