Very Important Update! I am going to be posting this story on AO3, so I'll be doing that for a while. I'll still post on this site, but I wanted to expand my base, and AO3 is a good site to do that. My username is still CombatTombat, and I also have a pseud where I'm writing a story for Skyrim, if you want to check that out.

Chapter Twenty-Five

Reyna

Percy had been working on… something for several days. He still performed his duties, of course, but she had seen very little of him outside of musters, which in itself was unusual. They spent most of their free time together. She still found little notes scrawled in his hand placed around her new house, but how and when he showed up was beyond her. So, deciding to be proactive, she tracked him down. He was in his office in the First's castra, carefully writing something down onto a sheet of paper. There was a haphazard stack of perhaps four dozen other sheets of paper placed nearby. He had started early then.

"What's this?" She asked him, almost laughing in the way he jerked upright at her sound. Percy hadn't heard her enter, which astounded her. It wasn't like she had been quiet coming in. "You alright?"

"Yeah, yeah," Percy muttered, collecting himself, "I was just… really in the zone, I guess."

"I could tell," she laughed softly, "what are you writing?"

"Just ideas," he said dismissively, but Reyna was good at reading Percy. She had to be, he was one of the most stubborn people she knew. "Nothing important."

"I feel like there was an unsaid 'yet' at the end of that sentence," she told him with a pointed look.

"I'm… organising my thoughts, I guess," he admitted, "on a whole range of topics. I have six notebooks from my quest that I completely filled out. Most of it's just idle thoughts, but some are worth remembering. So I'm going through them, structuring them, fixing them, stuff like that."

"May I?" She asked, indicating to the pile of papers. Percy hesitated, and she almost withdrew her request.

"Let me finish this up," he said, "and then you can read the whole thing, start to finish. Sound fair?"

"I suppose," she shrugged, "it's your work, you'd know better than I would."

"You're the best," he told her earnestly, "once I'm done with this, I'm all yours, I promise."

"I thought you already were?" She teased, "or have your thoughts driven you away from me?"

Percy just chucked an empty pen at her. It was meaningless, but the fact that he had an empty pen to throw at her in the first place told her how much writing he was doing. He hadn't been completely honest with her then. This wasn't the organisation of some loose thoughts. He was… he was codifying. She remembered his third letter to her, when he told her that he was considering it. Now that he had the time, he was doing exactly that.

Reyna perched herself on the edge of his desk and watched him work. The x-shaped scar on his cheek was pale now, a stark contrast from his tan, Mediterranean skin tone. The burns on his arms were almost completely healed but judging from the way that Percy had to stop, extend his fingers, and rotate his arm, there was still some minor pain. Or more likely, she realised, he had been doing so much writing his arms were cramping up. His hair, normally kept at a moderately short length, had grown out while he was unconscious, and he hadn't cut it since he awoke, so now it was long and swept back, like there was a constant breeze blowing at him. All in all, Reyna had to admit that he looked like a hot nerd.

Thirty minutes later, he finished the last page, grabbed the stack, and began organising it. He shuffled papers in and out of place, scratching in words here and there as he already began editing it in his mind, before he finally stopped, looking pleased with himself.

"It's only a rough draft," he said sheepishly, "but given time, I do think it could be something."

She took the manuscript in hand and scanned the first page. Theories on Reforms for the Military Strategies of the Twelfth Legion, was it's title, and she was intrigued to see what Percy thought could be improved. He had a mind for this sort of thing, and training with Lupa and Salacia had only reinforced it. The first few pages were simple explanations about the history of the Roman Legions, from the days of Romulus to the fall of the Western Empire. No, not explanations. Justification for his reforms. Even in his private thoughts, Percy was explaining himself to others. She kept reading, each idea more and more interesting as she went through.

"Independent cohort actions?" She asked aloud, "fast moving units capable of operating in the field for weeks at a time, tracking down monsters across states? Percy, what inspired this?"

"A few things," he answered, his voice measured, but Reyna saw past that. He was nervous. His left foot was tapping a marching cadence, and his right hand mirrored it, drumming on the desk, "the Mongol army was one. In forty years, they conquered the second largest empire in history. They conquered more territory in forty years than we did in four hundred!"

"And how long did those conquests last?" Reyna asked him.

"Not long," he conceded, "but the point is that it happened! The legion is an archaic system used because we value tradition. But we can honour tradition and still move forward with the rest of the world without insulting our heritage."

"I'm not arguing against this, Percy," she said, "these are good ideas—really good ideas. I'm just trying to get a little insight into your mind. You're proposing that the Cohorts be given a theatre of operation in the United States—all west of the Appalachians, of course—that would allow us to essentially control the continent for the demigods. These aren't minor reforms. These would take years to accomplish and would require the legion to expand exponentially in number, numbers we don't have!"

"I know that," Percy replied, "that's why I was never going to do anything with these. They're ideas, is all."

"So it's what? A thought exercise?" She asked with a frown. Percy wasn't prone to doing things without a good reason, especially if they wouldn't have a return.

"This one is," he nodded, "that's why I didn't expect much to come from it."

"This one?" The words were, as with everything about Percy, precise. "There are others? This isn't what you've been working on for these past days?"

"No, this is what I started working on this morning, those," he motioned to a corner of the room, "are what I've been doing for the past few days."

Reyna craned her neck to see what he was referring to, and it took her a moment to accept what she was looking at. Six other stacks of paper just as large as the one she was holding were placed neatly next to each other on a cabinet. Each one had a title equally as impressive as the one he had finished today. Gods, he had been busy.

"May I?" She asked, and Percy nodded.

She didn't read them—that would take time that she didn't have, but she scanned each title. Reformations for the Cohort, Expansion in New Rome, Power and Politics, Religious Life in New Rome, Small Unit Tactics, and Standardisation for the Legion were pretty self-explanatory. Her breath caught on the last one and she felt her heart flutter. Reasons That I Love Reyna, it was titled, and it was larger than any of the others had been. Percy ghosted behind her, resting his chin on the top of her head.

"That one's a work in progress," he said, his chest vibrating against her back as he spoke, "I kept making lists while I was gone, and then, when I got back, I kept finding reasons to keep expanding it. It's going to be my magnum opus, I think."

"You, sir, are ridiculously romantic," Reyna told him breathlessly, leaning back into his body as he wrapped his arms around her. "You're lucky that I like that part of you so much."

"I guess I am," Percy chuckled, a deep rumble that started in his chest, "but like I said before, once I finished that paper, I was all yours. And I am yours to command, Praetor."

"Dinner" she told him, spinning around so that she was facing him. Still, the proximity forced her to look up at him. Tall as she was for a girl her age, Percy was taller still, having reached about six foot four. Jason had recently had a growth spurt, and the Son of Jupiter beat him by an inch. Only Michael Kahale was taller than them. "Tonight, at my house."

"You do know that neither of us can cook, right?" He asked her, tilting his head down to look at her, "like, we're both really bad at it."

"We'll figure it out," she told him, not willing to concede. "And wear something nice. I feel like being spoiled tonight. I expect you to look sharp."

"Would you go as far to say that you want to be treated as a queen?" Percy grinned at her. Reyna let out a sigh. Someone had let slip that her name was close to the Spanish word for queen, and now Percy and Jason wouldn't leave her alone about it. The worst part had been when she walked into a Senate Meeting, and Jason intoned for 'all to rise for the queen.' Not all had understood the joke, but the thought of upsetting the Son of Jupiter and Neptune was too much for many, and they rose without question.

"I'd go as far to say that you're about to get punched in the face," she warned him. Percy just laughed and pressed a kiss to the top of her head. "What have you got planned?"

"Gwen and I are meeting to discuss ways to mend the relationship between the First and the Fifth," he told her, "The First like me, but even with Jason as Praetor, the Fifth is still seen as a pariah. I'm seeing what I can do to fix that."

Reyna arched an eyebrow at him, earning a shrug from Percy.

"I was in the Fourth," he reminded her, "we weren't seen as much better than the Fifth. We fought hard to be known as a good cohort. So has the Fifth, but they don't have much to show for it. People respect Jason. They don't respect the Fifth. Not yet."

It was at times like this that Reyna was amazed by her boyfriend. She had told Jason that Percy always kept an eye open for favours he could gain, but there were times when he could just be so selfless that it surprised her. He was both a great Roman and a terrible Roman at the same time. He did what he wanted, yes, but he also payed lots of homage to the traditions of their people.

"Gwen's a solid leader," she decided on, "the two of you will come up with something, I know it."

"Of course we will," Percy grinned, "we're centurions. We didn't come to our position through luck."

"I mean…" she trailed off, and Percy gave her a light shove.

"Get out of here," he laughed, "I'll see you tonight. Seven?"

"Seven," she confirmed, "don't be late."

She strolled out, a skip in her step that hadn't been there before. She didn't normally allow herself to be seen so happy, but sometimes, with Percy, she couldn't help it. They were too similar, a comparison that had been made dozens of times before, and at times, they brought something better out of each other. This was one of those times.

Naturally, her happiness lasted all of five minutes. The moment she crossed into New Rome, she was greeted by easily the last person she wanted to have any type of conversation with.

"Miss Marlow," she greeted neutrally, "if you wish to meet with me, make an appointment. Otherwise, I have jobs that need to be done."

"Of-of course, Praetor," Marlow replied, but didn't stop talking, "I was just hoping that perhaps you could help me get my old position at the Senate back?"

That made Reyna stop her in her tracks. She turned to face Marlow. She wasn't very old—her mid-twenties, but her family had been in New Rome since the eighteen hundreds—clearsighted mortals who had the fortune—or misfortune—of stumbling across Camp Jupiter. During the Spanish-American War, the legion had a desperate need for soldiers, and her ancestor had been drafted. It was a badge of honour for the few mortal families in the city, but no one, not the demigods nor the legacies, thought them to be anything special. Marlow, however, had campaigned on her ancestry. And while no one had run against her, it had won her the votes of some of the mortals.

"Now, why, exactly, would I do that?" Reyna asked her, "Lupa was very clear in her orders, and my fellow Praetor and I will not countermand her."

"But Praetor—" Marlow began.

"But nothing," Reyna cut her off sharply, "not only did you insult a centurion of the legion, my legion, the one you just happened to choose to accuse of treason is my boyfriend. The absolute last thing on my mind is helping you achieve some grand idea of power that you think you would be able to gain as a senator. The fact that you would try to disregard the ruling of a goddess concerns me very much. Be aware, Miss Marlow, that we will be watching you closely from now on. Very closely."

Reyna would later deny that she enjoyed the verbal smackdown she gave the woman, but at that exact moment? She was very, very proud of herself.

XxXxX

Percy

"I heard that Jordan's on latrine duty for a month," Gwen commented idly, as their server, a legacy of Venus doing her damnedest to draw Percy's attention, brought their food. "And, believe it or not, I've not heard a single insult from any member of the First directed at my cohort since Hazel joined."

"Funny how that works, isn't it?" Percy replied with a lazy smile, "they're still assholes, but hopefully I can train them out of being huge assholes. Maybe by the time I retire, the First will treat the Fifth no differently than they treat each other."

"Lofty aspirations," the blonde praised, "I look forward to seeing it play out."

"As do I," he muttered, "but in the mean time, we need to figure out how to get our Cohorts getting along. I have an idea, but it would be up to the Praetor's to allow it."

Gwen, for her credit, caught on quickly. She was a sharp one, and would make a fine centurion, that much Percy already knew.

"War games together?" She guessed, "The First and the Fifth against everyone else?"

"For a few months, at least," Percy confirmed, "long enough for the bad blood to start going away. It'll take time, but if we force them to be together…"

"It could start the process," Gwen nodded. "I agree with you. Do you want me to come with you to speak with the praetors?"

"I think you should put the motion forward," he said slyly, "publicly. Let me be seen supporting you, not the other way around."

"Oh, you are devious," Gwen laughed, "I can see why Reyna likes you so much. As well as the other girls."

"Only Reyna's opinion matters to me," Percy said automatically, and proudly, "the rest are just… wind."

"And look at that," Gwen laughed again, "she's trained you well." Percy stiffened in response, "or maybe, it's just who you are," Gwen mused, "I'm not sure yet."

"Watch and decide for yourself then," Percy shrugged, "but I think you'll find that Reyna and I are very much alike. It's less training and more… compatibility, I guess?"

"'Compatibility' he says," Gwen chuckled dryly, "the children of Venus have another word for it, you know."

"So I've been told," Percy sighed, "Soulmates. What an interesting concept."

"You don't disagree?"

"I neither agree nor disagree," Percy informed her, "there's so much about mortal existence that we don't know. Could the Parcae have chosen a person who we're destined to fall in love with? Maybe. Or maybe we're free to choose who we love. I don't know, and I never will, but what I do know? Being with Reyna feel's right to me."

"Very passionate speech," Gwen said, before her gaze darkened, "watch out, Octavian's inbound."

Percy let out a deep sigh and waited for the augur to arrive. He had to weave his way through the tables in the café, and when he arrived, he seemed out of breath.

"Primus Pilus, Hastatus Prior," he greeted them, "I'm uhm, I'm sorry to interrupt your lunch. Would it be possible to speak with you later, Percy?"

"Centurion Jackson," Gwen snapped at him, but Percy lifted a hand lazily.

"It's fine," he said, "the augury is an esteemed position. I'm honoured he would address me by my forename. We can speak in the afternoon. I have an appointment at seven, so I'll need to be done at least an hour before then. Is that acceptable?"

"Of course, Centurion," Octavian shifted nervously, "again, my apologies for the interruption."

And then he was gone, melting back into the crowds of people.

"What did you do to him?" Gwen asked in amazement, "I've only ever seen Octavian be that polite to Lupa."

"We came to an understanding," Percy replied simply, "we… respect the different positions we hold."

"You threatened him, didn't you?"

"Oh yeah, very much so."

"Well," Gwen drawled, "part of me feels like reminding you that the Augur is sacrosanct, but the other part of me wants to congratulate you."

"Let's just… leave it be, why don't we?" Percy offered, "Octavian's behaving, the rule of the Praetors is strong, and we're working on creating inter-cohort cohesion. Let's celebrate that."

"Brilliant idea," Gwen praised, raising her glass, "to the First!"

"To the Fifth!" Percy replied, clinking his cup to hers.

XxXxX

The suit wasn't his. Percy didn't own a suit, so when he found one laid out on his bed, he knew something was up. There was a note atop of it, and he looked around the room, trying to figure out how it had gotten in. His room had no windows, and he always locked the door when he left, so either someone had broken in, or they had apparated inside his room. The former was disconcerting. The latter was disturbing.

The note was simple, and told him everything he needed to know.

She said look sharp.

-V

Percy had yet to meet Venus, but this reeked of her influence. Still, it was a nice suit, and who was he to turn a gift away? Still, he had to meet with Octavian before he could get ready for his dinner, and while he didn't want to, he knew he had to. The Augur had been nervous beyond simply talking to Percy. Something was clearly wrong.

Temple Hill was, as always, busy. Demigods and legacies payed respect to their parents or ancestors, while the mortals went to venerate the gods. Percy, as always, visited his father's little shack-shrine. There were no cobwebs anymore—there hadn't been for years, and he had replaced the mouldy fruit with a little figurine of his father he had commissioned a smith to build. Every feature had been described immaculately, and the smith had almost brought his father alive in the sculpture. There was only one thing he couldn't properly convey. The eyes. No matter how hard he tried, the son of Vulcan hadn't been able to bring his father's eyes to life, like they had been when they talked in Atlantis.

"Perseus," Octavian's quiet voice interrupted his prayers as he knelt at the foot of his father's alter. "I'm sorry to disturb, but…"

"Something's bothering you," he interrupted, standing up, "and that does concern me, believe it or not, Octavian. I don't like you. I think you're ambitious beyond belief, but you love Rome, and that's good enough for me. So, what's wrong that you couldn't go to the Praetors?"

"I've… had a vision," he said slowly, "about you."

Percy turned around slowly. Octavian was shuffling nervously, as if he expected to be attacked again. Come to think of, he probably was, considering their last meeting.

"I'm not going to hurt you," Percy said softly, "tell me about it."

"I was reading the stuffings" Octavian said slowly, "and I saw you, striding into an army of monsters, tearing them apart with blade and powers both."

"Not Orthys?"

"The Field of Mars," the augur admitted, "but that wasn't all. I saw the legion kneeling before you. I saw you plated in armour worthy of an Augustus, wielding weapons forged by gods. You were… I'm not even sure what you were."

Percy's heart skipped a beat. There was no way that he knew about… no, no it was impossible. Juno had assured him that they would remain hidden until the time came, and she even warned him that it might not happen in his lifetime.

"Are you sure it was… genuine?" Percy asked carefully, "it wasn't… I dunno, fear induced?"

"That's not how the auguries work, Percy," Octavian sighed, "I'm… I'm keeping this to myself for now. It may not come to pass, but I thought you should know. It's not something the legion needs right now."

"That's… remarkably mature of you, Octavian," Percy noted, "this… vision of yours. Where you in it?"

"I… I was," Octavian admitted, "I was… I was the first to kneel. It bothered me because—well, because I would."

And yet another thing that caught Percy off guard.

"What?"

"Percy, respectfully, you're easily the most powerful person here. Not even the Praetors could stop you if you wanted to assume power," Octavian told him. "Romans respect power more than anything else. I've seen you interact with the others. They respect you, and you respect them in turn. You don't make anyone do anything you wouldn't, and the people love you for it. I can never be that for them. Despite us not really… trusting your father, you've made us respect him," Octavian indicated to his own crooked nose, "and you've made them love you without even trying. You're a force to be reckoned with. You're… you're essentially what my namesake was before he became Augustus. Someone the people trusted to accomplish things. Someone the people would follow, even though you aren't officially in charge. I… was jealous of you growing up, but by the gods, Percy, I can't help but admire you. There's no point in trying to challenge you, because that's not only political suicide, but it might be actual suicide."

Percy didn't know how to reply to that. Octavian had essentially just told him that if Percy were to attempt a coup, he would possibly support him. That the augur, one of the most powerful people in New Rome would do that said massive amounts. Percy was trying to formulate a response when Michael burst into the shrine, causing Octavian to whirl around in a panic. Percy's optio didn't so much as blink at the Augur's presence, his own eyes wide with panic.

"Michael? What's wrong?" He asked him.

"It's Jason!" Michael cried out, "he's gone missing!"

MMXVIII

First of all, Merry Christmas to all those who celebrate it, and happy holidays to those that don't! I'd like to follow that by apologising for any typos or grammatical errors in this. I'm not entirely sober right now, and that may contribute. Now, onto the main shit.

This is the last chapter of Vas Bellicosum, which will be followed by Filii Deorum. That story will pick up pretty quickly after the end of this, so don't expect much to have happened. I've also decided to make Octavian more than a simple villain. It would be so easy for him to be this awful person, but I want him to be more than that. I want him to be a character with flaws, and ambitions, and ideals. I want him to be a character, not a plot device. I'm sure some of you won't like that, but frankly, I'm drunk and I don't care.

While I'm sure some of you were hoping for the Percy/Reyna dinner date, unfortunately, it's not to be. With that, I will conclude Vas Bellicosum.

As always, feel free to leave a review, or send me a PM, but if you want a response, PM'ing me is the best way to go about it.

Vale, CombatTombat