Epilogue Part One

Percy knew everyone thought he'd love Rome. It was the origin of his people, it held the history of the empire he was trying to maintain, and it was a genuinely beautiful city. At least, it looked at way from the pictures. He wasn't even in Italy. Would he like to see Rome? Sure, one day. But he was on vacation, so he was going to enjoy that vacation for its full worth. That meant that instead of wandering through the ruins of an old empire, he was stretched out on a deck chair, toes dug into the sand at a nice little cove in Praia da Marinha and Benagil in Portugal. Isolated, quiet, and more importantly, lacking any supernatural beings, it was like being in Elysium. Or so he assumed. It was towards the tail end of summer, not quite early fall, so while it was cool, it wasn't cold, and the water was still nice enough that Percy didn't mind swimming in it. He did have to deal with the occasional tourist or sometimes even locals coming up and fluttering their eyes at him, and Percy had learned that the word 'girlfriend' was pretty well universally understood, even if it wasn't always universally respected.

It was his ninth consecutive day of just relaxing and taking in the sun when he felt a shadow fall across him. Holding in a sigh, he cracked open an eye to find a girl standing over him. She was, admittedly, beautiful, but Percy had spent so much time around powerful demigods and immortals that he clocked her immediately. She may have looked mortal, but she was too perfect. Her eyes were dark and intelligent, her hair was a cinnamon-caramel colour, and her skin was flawless. It put him on edge immediately.

"Whatever quest you have for me, I can't do it. I'm on vacation." He told her, closing his eyes again.

"What gave me away?" The girl asked, sitting down next to him.

"You don't feel mortal. You barely look it, too." He replied. "You know who I am, but I don't know you."

"Some would think speaking to a goddess in such a way to be foolish, Percy Jackson."

"And if you were a goddess, I'd be concerned." He finally sat up. "I said you don't feel mortal, but it's obvious that you are. Willingly or not, you shed your immortality not long ago. Over time, your aura will settle, and you'll just be like another demigod. But right now? Right now I could reach over and snap your neck without having to think about it. So don't play games with me, whoever you are. I don't want to ruin my vacation, but I won't lose any sleep over it."

"He was right—you are an arrogant man." The girl hummed. "Though I've met many like you before, heroes put in truly unfair circumstances. I don't think the others truly see you for who you are."

"Listen, lady, I don't know or care whoever's been telling you stories about me, but you clearly came here looking for me. Here I am. Tell me what you want so that way I can tell you to eat it and leave." Percy snapped. So much for a nice, relaxing holiday.

"I simply wanted to meet you."

"Well, you can—wait, what?"

"My name," the girl rose to her feet. "Is Calypso. I knew your half-sister, Andromeda."

"I know the story." He mimicked her action, not wanting to be in an unfavourable position if things went south. "I also know that you met Leo Valdez and that he stole the physician's cure from his friends. If you're not on your island, that means he went back for you and got you out. So where is he?"

"Hiding a cove over." She smirked. "He was…not happy by my decision to meet with you. He thinks you'd be eager to fight me."

"I'm never eager to fight anyone." He grumbled. "These Greeks and their stupid ideas about me. No offence."

"None taken." Calypso shrugged. "As I said, I've met men and women like you before. You have not lived an easy life. You've been shaped into something, and not by choice."

"Preaching to the choir here."

"Leo is…insecure." She continued. "He sees threats in people that he feels are better than him. He doesn't see his own value in the face of another's. That is why I wanted to speak with you."

"To what, spur him into action?" Percy scoffed. "I don't care for Valdez. His insecurity is what got us into this whole mess in the first place."

"But it was not his fault," Calypso said pointedly.

"Yeah, I know that. I don't blame him for what he did while possessed, but I sure as hell blame him for getting possessed." He pivoted on his heel. "You want him to toughen up and see that he's worth something? Tell him that he is."

"What?"

"Immortals." He rolled his eyes. "Knowing, but not understanding. Do you think that I became the person I am because I was thrown in front of people who were better than me? All that would have done was make me weak and insecure. No, I was taught, and when I was good at something, I was told. When I was bad at something, I was told. I learned what I could improve on and what I couldn't. I discovered what success was and what failure was, and what neither felt like. And despite all that knowledge, all that struggling, I still have to deal with people who think they know better, people who do know better, and people who are so unfathomably stupid that somehow they circle from being so wrong that they're actually right. If you want Valdez to see his worth, let him know that you see it. Which cove is he in?"

Calypso stared at him with wide eyes before pointing. Percy trekked over, climbing up the dunes before following the trail down. The metal dragon the son of Vulcan had ridden was rolling in the sand like a big dog, while the previously dead demigod who constructed it was watching. He was about ten yards away when he heard Calypso call Leo's name from behind him. He turned around, saw Percy approaching, and paled.

"H-hey there dude." He tried to grin. "How are you doing this fin—ugh!"

Percy cut him off with a right cross to the jaw, sending Leo tumbling to the ground. Calypso cried out from behind him, but Percy didn't move beyond that, shaking his hand loose.

"You know, considering all your friends call me an asshole for being tough, I wonder how they're going feel when they learn you faked your death so you could have a romantic holiday with a girl you've only known for a few days," Percy told him, before hauling Leo onto his feet. "You let everyone mourn you. I watched them cry as they burned your shroud. Jason was so devastated that he was able to be cursed by a goddess. I have done things I'm not proud of, but I never, ever let people think I was dead when I wasn't."

"Hey! That's not fair." Leo protested. "I saved the world! I deserve a vacation!"

"Yeah, no shit. What do you think I'm doing?" He demanded. "The difference is, everyone knows I'm alive. If you want to have a romantic vacation with your girlfriend? Fine, awesome, go for it. But are you really so selfish that you'd make them wait to know you're alive?"

"I—I didn't think of that," Leo admitted.

Percy scoffed and shoved Leo aside, pivoting on his heel to face Calypso.

"There. You've both seen me. Happy?"

"No." She frowned. "I didn't want you to hit him."

"Believe me, he's lucky I only hit him once." He told her. She saw it as the warning it was. Good. "Enjoy the rest of your vacation. I'll keep this to myself. No need for everyone to get upset that the first person to see Leo again was the person who likes him the least."

"Hey! That's not—actually, no, that's pretty fair."

"You don't dislike him, though?" She grinned at him. "You just like him the least."

"He killed Terra." Percy shrugged. "Anyone who does that is good in my books. But the other Romans won't see it the same way—especially not the civilians who lost loved ones or were injured. For his safety, stay away from New Rome."

"We will take it under advisement, but we are free to go where we please." Calypso smiled tersely. Maybe she wasn't as smart as Percy had hoped.

"Ha. No, you're not. Make no mistake—I won't stop you from going to New Rome, but I will stop you from entering it, and if I fail, there's five hundred armed demigods and legacies who will gladly make sure my efforts weren't for nothing. We know Leo wasn't responsible for what happened, but his body fired on our city. Don't try to play smart with me, because all it will end with is a lynch mob. One I'm not sure I'd be able to stop."

"Aren't you like, supreme dictator and everything?"

"First of all, I'm Imperator, not dictator. There's a distinction. Secondly, the fact that I don't think I'd be capable of stopping a lynch mob from killing you, despite being Imperator, should be concerning to you. No, actually, it shouldn't be concerning, it should be terrifying."

"Oh yeah, that's a really good point." Leo nodded before looking at Calypso. "Maybe we should strike New Rome from our travel list, babe."

Calypso, in turn, nodded begrudgingly. Like any immortal—former or otherwise—she was clearly still incredibly prideful when challenged, even if she didn't know it. She'd either grow out of it, or she wouldn't. Having talked with her, though, Percy was willing to bet she'd change. Despite her clear disapproval of how he treated Leo, she seemed to be a kind and compassionate person.

"You've definitely ruined my desire to be at the beach." He sighed. "I'm leaving. Please don't start showing up at the other places I visit."

"Oh we'll definitely try not to," Leo said quickly. "You scare me, dude."

"Really?" Percy glanced over his shoulder and flashed the duo a smile that would have made Lupa proud. "I'm not trying to."

Making a formerly immortal Titaness go pale was probably up there in something Percy had never thought he would do. Making Leo do the same just made him feel a little better. He didn't hate the kid, contrary to popular belief but at the moment, he didn't particularly like him, either. He was at the top of the dune when a large shadow overtook him, and the bronze dragon soared above, before banking sharply, and heading northeast. Towards France or the British Isles, Percy didn't know or care, as long as it wasn't near him. With his day at the beach no longer appealing, Percy made the hike back to his hotel, waving at the receptionists as he went back up to his room. It was a nice hotel, with all the amenities he needed. It had been paid for by an account that Lupa had held in his name, though how that worked, he had no idea. Apparently, his father had set it up for him when he was handed off to the she-wolf to be raised, and she, in turn, had done some shrewd investing that made Percy kind of rich. He knew better than to look into it. Better to just be thankful and take full advantage of the fact that a goddess had taken the time to make sure Percy had an actual bank account with money that would let him live a good life. Especially considering he only had a GED and was most definitely never going to make it to college. At least not anymore. Maybe if the whole Imperator thing hadn't happened, he could have retired as a Praetor, gone to college, and moved on from there. But that wasn't the life he was given, so he had to make do.

XXX

Naturally, once one part of his vacation went sour, the rest naturally followed. After a shower, a quick phone call with Reyna—who informed him that none other than Annabeth freaking Chase had accepted his invitation to work on the Pantheum and had arrived in New Rome about a week after he had left, Andy in tow—and the promise to send postcards, Percy made his way down to the pool-side bar, where he got his dinner. Not long after he was handed a virgin pina-cola (he was still seventeen, after all, and this wasn't New Rome) Percy got the feeling that he was being was watched. And not in the annoying way he had noticed, when women—and some men—would study him before trying to approach. He had been both hunter and hunted in the past, so he knew the feeling quite well. The question was who and where. Who was watching him, and where were they hiding? Was it a god, just doing a little check up on him? Was it a monster, waiting for the right time to strike? Or was it something else?

The answer came five minutes later, when two men suddenly took the seats on either side of him. Percy didn't think much of it for about fifteen seconds, until he noticed that the arm of the man to his right was unnaturally muscular. The man to his left was the same. Both were tall, towering at least a foot over Percy, and they were built like NFL linemen. They had braids in both their long, blonde hair and their thick, bushy beards. Their arms were covered in swirling tattoos, knots and hammers and eagles marked on their skin. They were…mortal, but not mortal. It was hard to tell. Not like with Calypso, who had been immortal and now was mortal. It was a lot like…Hazel, to be honest. Which made him wonder where exactly these men had come from.

"You don't seem concerned." The man to his right said. His English was flawless, but accented. A German accent. "That we sat here, that is."

"Only an idiot would try to take me on in a public venue." Percy replied. "And I'm trying to figure out who you are."

"All you have to do is ask, Imperator." The man said. "And I will gladly answer."

"Your names, then."

"I am Marco." He introduced himself. "To your left is Tank. Over your left shoulder, playing volleyball in the pool, is Roddy and Herman. Gale is over your right shoulder, making sure that no one disturbs us."

Quick glances revealed each of the named men, tall and stupidly muscular like Marco and Tank, which was the dumbest nickname Percy had ever heard. But they were nicknames.

"I asked for your names." He said mildly.

"In public?"

"No one cares what we're talking about." He shrugged. "And I don't trust you enough to go anywhere with you. Street smarts and all that."

"I am Marcomir. Once, I was of the Tervingi. We all were." He said. "When the Doors were open, many Germani took the opportunity to flee from Erebos. We've been…adjusting to the new world. We heard tale of you, and that you were in Europe. It did not take much to find you."

"Tervingi." Percy repeated. "…Gothic tribe, yeah? Weren't your people responsible for Adrianople?"

"I believe you'll find that it was your people who were responsible for that, actually." Marcomir responded easily. "But that was before my time. When I lived, I was a faithful soldier. I served my emperor, and I died serving my emperor. The empire I served no longer exists, but the empire itself does."

"Is that why you're here? To offer your service?"

"Why not?" Marcomir shrugged. "I was a legionary. I will be one again, if you wish. Though we serve better as bodyguards."

"I already have bodyguards." Percy told him. "Amazons. They don't like sharing."

"One can never have too many bodyguards." Tank spoke for the first time, his accent just as thick as Marcomir's. "There are more of us out there. We can bring more to your side."

"All right, Arnold, take it down a notch, I haven't agreed to anything yet." Percy raised a hand.

"Tanca."

"What?"

"My name is Tanca, not Arnold."

"It's—you know what, never mind." He sighed. "Why are you doing this, Marcomir? Really?"

"Change will come." He explained. "The gods may try to return us to Erebos. But if we are in service to you, they may let us remain. Of all the demigods of Rome, you are the most favoured. The first Imperator who followed the faith since Julian. If you speak for us, accept us, and allow us to serve, you will find no more loyal soldiers than we."

"I'll think about it." Percy said after a moment. "I'm here for another four days. You'll have your answer by then."

"That is all we ask." Marco said, before muttering something in what Percy assumed was his native tongue. Tank—Tanca, interesting name—rose, and the two vanished into the crowd. Percy finished his drink, and when he searched, he couldn't find the others. It took skill for men nearly seven feet tall to just vanish.

He paid the bill for his dinner and left, walking away from the hotel and directly onto the beach. Earlier, he had wandered far, finding a cove because he wanted to get away from other tourists. This time, he just walked directly into the surf, vanishing under the waves. If anyone saw what he had done, they would have been really confused, but the beach had been deserted—the water too cold, and there was no point to be sunbathing in the dark. He swam until he reached the shelf break. Then, he sat down and prayed.

I don't know if you're listening, but I've got a bit of a situation. I know you can't help me directly but…it's important. I was approached by Germans. Goths, to be specific, and Tervingi to be precise. They told me they escaped from Erebos, and that they want to serve me. It's not a bad deal, to be honest, but it's a big one. I just…I need a sign, dad. Something to help me make the right decision.

His response was silence, and the gentle swish of the ocean currents. Percy sighed deeply. He supposed he was asking too much of his father after all. A Roman was supposed to be self-reliant, able to solve problems on their own. And here he was, unable to make a decision about bodyguards. He felt ridiculous. Distinctly un-Roman. It was embarrassing.

"Oh, stop it, I can practically feel the self-loathing inside you." The tone was caustic but Percy knew it wasn't genuine. "Honestly, Perseus, did you think your father would come here himself?"

"My queen." Percy bowed. Salacia scoffed, using a finger under his chin to drag him upwards. "I don't know what I was expecting, to be honest. It's…been a day."

"Yes, that Valdez boy and his Titan girlfriend. How amusing." Her lips twitched in amusement. "As for these Goths of yours…what's the harm?"

"Uh…they're supposed to be dead?"

"So is that daughter of Pluto, but I have a feeling you would go to war with the gods before allowing her to return to the underworld." Salacia shrugged, even as Percy's blood boiled at the mere notion. "I am going to let you in on a secret, Perseus. One that Jupiter will likely be annoyed I let slip—you are Imperator."

"That's…not quite a secret."

"No, but what that means sometimes is." She smirked. "As Imperator, you are the highest authority in regards to mortals. There is no one who can tell you 'no', no one who can challenge your decisions unless you let them. And for the most part, the gods will respect that. If you want to assemble a bodyguard of escaped Germani, then the gods will allow it. The stronger your position is, the stronger they are. So long as you never do anything to threaten that position, they will allow you to do as you please. Do you know how many Imperators were killed at the instigation of the gods?"

"No."

"Three. Caligula, Nero, and Commodus, and that was because of matters far removed from anything you need to concern yourself with. So long as you continue doing what you do, there will be no challenges from the gods as to your decisions." Salacia told him. "Expect questions, at times, but never expect to be told to back down. Remain firm and confident, and you will find that gods will support your actions."

"Even their Greek aspects?"

Salacia flickered for a moment, becoming slightly softer, before returning to her usual form. "The others are…complicated. For the most part, you do not need to concern yourself with them."

"They'll just let me be?"

"Yes." Salacia rolled her eyes.

"Even if I decided to purge the Senate?"

"So long as your reasoning was sound and not based on petty motives, yes."

"Huh."

"Did Lupa not explain this to you?"

"No, we never had the 'So you've found yourself the supreme ruler of a city-state and don't know what you can and can't do' talk. Other than her telling me that I was in charge, I don't know anything about this job than what I've done or found out for myself." He admitted. The Queen of the Sea's sighed heavily.

"Honestly, for a goddess who prides herself on preparing her charges, I've found myself disappointed by Lupa's lessons." She said. "When you return to your room, a book will be awaiting you. Study it."

"I—okay?"

"Take the bodyguards, Perseus. The Amazons are formidable warriors, but the Germani have a history of loyalty to emperors. There's a reason that they were recruited for so long, and there's a reason that some of the late Empire's greatest generals had Germanic ancestry." She told him. "Besides, a power solely loyal to you, with no outside ties of loyalty? Irreplaceable."

"Thank you." He said earnestly. "Not just for this. You've been helping me for years when you don't have to. Especially considering…well, what I am."

"What you are?" Salacia echoed, a sneer overtaking her features. "You think that because you are my husband's son, but not mine, I should dislike you? I am not Juno. What you are is no fault of your own, and if I treated you based solely on that, I would find myself unworthy of being a goddess. What you are is a warrior, a general, and a statesman. You are the greatest Roman since Diocletian, the first true Imperator since Marcus Aurelius. You will be more fortunate than Augustus and better than Trajan. Believe what you will, but I do this because I choose to, not because I was asked or told to. I know that you will become far larger than anyone intended, and I will help you reach that point, even if you refuse to believe in yourself."

"I'm—"

"Do not apologise." She cut him off sharply. "You have done nothing wrong, but you have had wrong done to you. Immortals are not flawless, child, and something we often forget is that those we deal with are not immortal. Just now, I called you child, because to me, you are one. But by any other standard, you are a child as well. We have thrust you into a position of power that was normally taken by men much older than you. You will have to hold onto that power as those around you become complacent, forgetting what it was you sacrificed to be the leader you are."

"I don't…what did I sacrifice?" Percy blinked. "It was all heading towards something like this anyway."

"It was not." Salacia shook her head. "In another world, you may have simply become Praetor, holding the position for some time before retiring with your beloved. You would have been an extraordinary, but normal man. That life was not for you. This one is. If you wish to hold onto anything, hold onto this; you are beyond extraordinary. You are on your way to being legendary. Many, many years from now, when your life has come to an end, you will be remembered as being greater than any who came before you, and any who will come after you. The question you need to ask yourself is not how you want the masses to remember you, but how you want your loved ones to remember you. What will your answer be, Perseus?"

She didn't give him a chance to answer, vanishing is a swirl of water that obscured his vision. When it cleared, he was alone again. But Salacia, as she always did, had given him a valuable insight into the world he was facing. It was one he knew, and even better, it was one he could use. Politics was a game, and while he disliked it, Percy had been taught to play it very well. So if he was going to do it, he might as well go all out. If the Senate and the Greeks wanted to try and outmanoeuvre him, he'd show them why he had been chosen to be Imperator. If they didn't like it? Too bad. He had the Gods behind him. Couldn't get better support than that. He just had to be better than three of the arguably worst Emperor's Rome had had. That didn't seem like too big a stretch. He wasn't insane, unreasonably vindictive, or vain beyond measure. He already had a good baseline to work from, had the support of the legion—last he checked, but at the very least he had the Centuriate—and none of his policies were doing anything to weaken the liberties of the citizens of New Rome. If anything, he was strengthening those liberties.

With a new perspective, it didn't take long for Percy to come to his decision regarding the Tervingi. He waded back out of the ocean, retaking his seat at the bar—now deserted but for the night shift—and let a loud thunderclap boom across the sky. In less than seven minutes, Marco had returned, Tank by his side. The two slipped into their positions on either side, and Percy ordered a coke from the waiter, while the Goths ordered, of all things, strawberry daquiris. They enjoyed their beverages for a few moments until Percy put his drink down, and then it was all business.

"I'll accept your oaths of service." He told them. "You'll swear them on the Styx, of course. Then I have jobs for some of you."

"Shall I gather the others, then?"

"They're already here, but I appreciate you willing to pretend. Don't do it again." Percy said. He called the bartender over, then snapped three times under his nose. The man's eyes glazed over, and his face went slack. "Go take a five minute break, and forget anything you saw or heard just now."

The man wandered off, and Percy was forever grateful to Hazel for teaching him that particular trick. The other Goths gathered around, and Percy took the time to study them all. Like Marco and Tank, they towered over him, nearing seven feet tall. They were buff as all hell, and Percy was pretty certain their arms were as thick as his entire head. How they'd serve as bodyguards remained to be seen.

"I know your nicknames." He told the new arrivals. "I want your names now."

"I am Hermangild." One of them stepped forward. "Herman, if you prefer."

"Galindus. Gale." The second joined him. "Herman is my brother."

"Theodulf." The last said. "No siblings."

"Pleasure to meet you all." Percy tipped his head. "You're going to swear to protect my life and obey my orders above all others. No politicking, no rivalries, and no assassinations without my express permission. When it comes to Romans, you don't harm anyone unless my life is directly at risk…or anyone else I task you to protect. Swear it on the Styx."

They repeated the words, and once they swore, thunder boomed above them again, sealing the oaths. Percy grinned. "Good. Now let's get to work. Gale, Herman, how do you feel about a little recruiting? If you're not the only Germani to escape, I want as many of you at my side as possible. Travel the rest of Europe, see if you can't convince any other wayward souls that service to me is the right way to go."

"Your will, Imperator." Gale nodded. "We will leave immediately."

"Go in the morning," he shook his head, "it's less suspicious that way. Theodulf, or…Theo?" At the man's nod, he continued. "I want you to do the same, but in North America. It's likely that a few souls ended up there since that's where the gods are. Tank will go with you."

"I understand and I will obey." Theo replied.

"Marco—I'm guessing at least one of you needs to stay near me, and since I'm still on vacation, that'll be you. Shadow me for the rest of my time here. I am going to cut this trip a little short, but I've gotten more out of it than I expected. Questions?"

"What if any other escaped Germani do not wish to join?" Gale asked. Percy grinned. It was a smart question, which was a good sign.

"Make sure they know that I can do nothing to have them sent back to Erebos in that case…and that if they do anything that threatens demigod lives, I'll make sure they get there personally." He told them. "Now, I need to go call my girlfriend. There's a lot that's going to need to be explained. I'll see you here at nine, Marco."

"Yes sir."

Percy returned to his room without much issue, though Marco made a point of making sure he reached the hall untroubled, and then watched from the elevator as he made his way into the room. He rolled his eyes, already knowing how well the Amazons were going to receive his new guards, but he had to admit, the Germani were going to make awesome bodyguards. Once in his room, he made his way to the bathroom, turning on the shower and retrieving the glass prism that Frank had pressed into his hands before he left. He followed the instructions, and soon, a sleepy Reyna was answering his Iris Message.

"Percy?" She asked groggily, blinking several times. "It's…two in the morning here. What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong, but babe, we've got some stuff to talk about. Big deal stuff."

MMXXI

Part one of the Epilogue. As much as I—and I'm sure many of you—wanted Percy to have a great nice relaxing holiday, our boy ain't so lucky. I don't know for certain where Leo and Calypso went before they return to Camp Half-Blood in ToA, because the wiki isn't specific, and I haven't read those books, but I figure it's not out of the realm of possibility for them to cough*stumble*cough across Percy during his own vacation. As for the Germani, that's another thing from ToA that I'll be incorporating, but I'm not sure if much else will be brought in. Definitely not the Three Emperors, at least not in any important capacity. The Riordan Wiki says the Germani don't talk a lot, and I'm willing to believe that…for those ones, who are supposed to representative of the Batavi, a German tribe used to supply the bodyguards of the Julio-Claudian Dynasty. I was specific in making mine Tervingi, a sub-tribe of Goths, because they would have settled in Roman lands, and those that served in the legions—aka these ones—would have learned Latin if they wanted to get anywhere in life.

Annabeth is up next, and then this story is done done. As always, leave a comment, send me a PM, or check out my Tumblr for more information and updates on my writing, though beware I am not consistent at all with what I post.

Cheers, CombatTombat