Gaul

Reyna gasped as the two handed axe of a Gallic warrior slammed against her scutum. The blow was more powerful than she expected. She slung the shield to the side and the soldier's axe moved with it. She in turn thrust out with her gladius and felt the slight moment of resistance as the blade pierced the man's skin before carving through the soft organs. With a jerk she pulled the blade free and focused on the next target. Around her the wall of shields was holding against the Gallic onslaught. Jason had maneuvered the army to force the Gauls to put their back against the river. Now the discipline of the legion was buzzsawing through the bare chested warriors.

Step. Open shield. Thrust. Close shield. Repeat. There was another step to that rhythm, one the veterans did not drill into the heads of raw recruits. Don't trip on corpses. The first of the new legions had joined, Legio XVI Gallica had joined Legios VIII, IX, and XII from Dalmatia and Legio I Germanica from Italy to give Jason nearly twenty-five thousand legionaries with which to carve their way into the enemy. Much as the previous battles, Reyna suspected that slaughter was not the goal, but if the Gauls refused to surrender the Romans would not cease killing.

Reyna had taken to fighting on the front lines. It was not out of some morbid obsession with the dealing of death. But her soldiers were dying in front of her and frankly, it kept her further away from the cold calculus that Jason used to determine the tactics of a battle. Too many men perished under his command, not just the enemy. The convoys of replacements were never ceasing and soon Legio XVII Flavia Firma would march north as well, bringing an additional six thousand fresh soldiers north with Gwen at their head.

How easy it has become, she thought. Her sword sank into the exposed torso of another axman. How did it become so easy to kill? To without hesitation extend my arm and end a life. Monsters were one thing, but another human? For fucks sake, I just thought about the motion of killing a man as just as extension of my arm. And then she did it again. Close shield. Step. Open shield. Thrust. Close shield. Repeat.

Gauls were being forced into the river. Not nearly enough of them could swim and the ones that could were being drug under the currents by those that could not. A loud cry came out in the harsh Gallic language. Across the front warriors were throwing down their weapons and falling to their knees. The legions stopped their advance and held position. Consul Jason Grace, son of Jupiter rode forward on his white horse. The king of this particular tribe of Gauls stepped forward to meet him. The tribal king held out his arms and let his sword fall to the ground. A cry came from the opposite shore as women and children watched their soldiers surrender. They knew as well as the survivors did what awaited them, slavery. Jason accepted the surrender and did not allow his killing machine to continue the butchery. I'll have to ask him why he slaughters Macedonians but not Gauls.

"What determines who lives and who dies?" Reyna was seated across from Jason within his command tent. They were sharing a jar of wine and Jason's personal slave, Titus had just served their dinner.

"Come again?"

"You allowed the slaughter of the Macedonians, but here and against the Boii you show mercy. It is the mercy of slavery but they're not dead."

"Do you remember where the vast majority of our problems at Camp Jupiter came from?"

"Octavian."

"Partially yes. But they came from the discovery of the Greeks." He spat the word Greek as if it was the worst vulgarity he knew. "Before them, New Rome did not suffer from anything but bitching legionaries and political intrigue. The gods' personalities were divided, because of the Greeks which allowed Gaea to rise. The Macedonians believe in the Greek aspects of the gods. These fucking barbarians believe in fucking nothing."

"So you kill them for believing in the Greek side?" Jason placed his cup of wine upon the table. His eyes were more serious than they should have been.

"I'm going to erase the Greek from existence. Think of all the wars we will avoid with that threat out of the way. Rome will remain dominate forever." Holy fucking shit, thought Reyna, When did fucking genocide become an acceptable course of action? Because he looks serious as hell.

Athens

Percy set the cup of wine down on the small table. He would be lying even to himself if he said he did not miss making love to his wife. While the intervention of their parents and Demosthenes and the near emergency with Zoë had restored their willingness for some level of physical affection, they had not had sex since the loss of their son. Demosthenes could have pointed out that any number of women in Athens would willingly spend a night of passion with the king, but he also knew Percy enough to not point it out. It had been eleven months since the still birth. But Percy accepted it, as much as he wanted it, sex was not just his to make happen. Annabeth had rejoined him in bed and she kissed and embraced him, but physical intimacy ended there. He would not rush her into anything else.

Their reconciliation had satisfied Zoë. Percy had really seen her happier now that matér and patér were together again. It helped that Thalia had taken the girl under her wing. She was training her archery like a Hunter of Artemis, even while Percy trained her to use a sword like he did. Annabeth trained her mind, she had spent too many years using a dagger and refused to risk her daughter that way. She had said as much and Percy had smiled at her protection of the girl. Secretly he had feared that when she returned to him, I refuse to admit that I had doubted her now, she would turn her back on his daughter. It was after all a visceral reminder that he had been with another woman while she was away. But as always, his Wise Girl had surprised him. And now, a month after his self-admission about their sex life, she did again.

"Percy," he turned to look at his wife. Her chiton was piled on the floor. She stepped out of the garment and towards him. His eyes could not leave her body. The scars believed marred her body he believed to be the greatest testament to her life that she had spent defending and serving others. Her breasts were lighter shaded than the skin of her arms and face. The hardened state of her dark nipples betrayed her arousal. Her hips swayed beneath a core that was returning to its previous toned hardness. She was training with him or Thalia every day in and amongst her lessons with Zoë. Oh for fucks sake don't think of my daughter right now, he thought with an anticipation he hoped was well founded. She had closed with him and he could feel her warm breath on his neck.

"Percy," she kissed the soft spot behind his collarbone, "I want," she kissed higher on his neck. "You," her lips were dancing across his jaw as her hands were playing with him through his tunic. His breath was catching in his throat. She had gripped him as he reacted involuntarily to her touch. "To fuck me." Percy's hand gripped her head through the mass of her blonde curls. He forced her lips to his and crushed his own against them. His other hand lightly played down her back until it cupped her ass and he gave it a rough squeeze. He pulled his lips from hers and sea green met gray eyes.

"Are you certain?" A small part of his brain knew this was the right thing to do, a not so small part of him disagreed with the delay.

A smile played across her face. "Yes, I want you, all of you. Make love to me like we used to," she learned forward and her breath was against his ear. "And after you make love to me, I want you to make me scream." A smirk crossed his face.

"You only scream when I…" she cut him off with a kiss.

"I remember exactly where you put it to make me scream," she replied with a wink. Hungrily he kissed her again as his hand traced her hip from her ass to between her legs. She moaned into his kiss. Her hands hurriedly began pulling his clothing off of him. Once it was out of the way she began manipulating him directly.

As his hand explored her more she moaned into the kiss again and he felt her knees give way slightly. "Gods," she whispered. "Take me to bed and fuck me already. I'm ready, oh gods, I'm ready." Percy smirked again and lifted her. She kissed him as her legs wrapped around his waist and he carried her to their bed.

Zoë was waiting in the hallway with Thalia and Demothenes. Demosthenes was always waiting outside Percy's room in the mornings, she supposed it was his job as chief advisor. Thalia gave Annabeth and Percy an apologetic look. "Matér, why were you screaming last night." Thalia snorted into the cup she was holding while Percy managed to find a report from one of his commanders handed to him by Demosthenes. Annabeth felt her face warm and then adjusted herself on her seat, partly to delay answering, partly because after a year without it, Percy had worn her out.

Macedon

The messenger had ridden from Gaul. Frank waited on the messenger at his camp outside the Macedonian capital. The people had initially challenged the transfer to Roman rule and worship but after five years of occupation they were growing accustomed to it. Being from Gaul he expected it to be from the consul. Instead it was from Reyna.

'Frank or Hazel,

Whichever of you receive this, I need you to do something for me. I recently spoke with Jason and I am disturbed. He spoke of the Greeks and a need to eliminate them all. I need you to send someone to Greece. I think Athens is their capital. I need to know who the king is.

I am going to try and convince Jason this is not the way to a better future. To "erase" (his words) the Greeks will not solve what he apparently believes it will. I don't want to fight our friends. I've lost many in my life, I've now gained back some of them. But I don't want to go against the Greeks. If their king is who I believe it is, we will be in dire straights if we go to war.

I once said of him he could not find his way out of a paper bag without assistance from the girl he loved. In reality nothing is farther from the truth. He was the way he was, because he could afford to be. He could afford to be the voice of compassion or emotion, because those he surrounded himself with spoke of logic and reason. He was someone who led by necessity but was willing to back away if allowed. He will not be that now. Now he will be decisive and brutally efficient because he has had to be. Jason is similar. Before rules and regulation kept him centered. He was accused of being too Greek like because he thought outside the box. Now he is authorized to do and I will admit he is brilliant on the battlefield even as he is completely merciless towards victory.

If these two go to war. They might destroy the world in the process.

Please find their king. I need to know so that I can begin planning a way to avoid the destruction this will bring.

Reyna.'

"Shit," muttered Frank. Hazel shot him a scandalized look, which he laughed at considering the state of undress they were both in when the slave had brought in the missive. He handed the scroll to her and since they were alone she allowed the blanket she had covered herself with to fall and expose her chest to him. How did I become so fucking lucky? He thought for at least the thousandth time.

Hazel finished the letter, she looked at him wide eyed. "Holy shit. She has to be talking about Percy." Frank nodded. He looked up to Percy like almost everyone did, but Hazel's connection with him was something different. He knew they were cousins, but their relationship was something more akin to an older brother and a sister, despite Hazel being older. In the days of their first quest he had silently moved aside for Percy, believing his connection with Hazel to be a sign that Percy and Hazel, not he and Hazel should be together. Percy did not take long to dissuade him from the notion when legitimately the only thing he had remembered was a blonde haired girl named Annabeth. Hazel would still get a romantic expression on her face when the two of them discussed the events from Camp Jupiter and she thought about Percy and Annabeth. The little shit sets the boyfriend bar way to fucking high without trying.

Admittedly, he and Hazel were no longer boyfriend and girlfriend. Using the pontifex that traveled with their army they had wed each other the year after the defeat of Philip on the battlefield. They had yet to have children, though both of them dearly wanted to they were commanders of two Roman legions. Frank and Hazel may have been mostly living by the future's standards, albeit a mix of two futures, but legion camps were no place for children. By their estimations they were thirteen years into their legion service. At twenty they would leave and start their family, they would still only be in their mid-thirties.

"What do we do, Hazel?" Her golden eyes studied him. There was a sadness in them and he knew she was thinking what he was, Rome will match into Greece. Whether led by Jason or someone else, and we'll fight our friends.

"I'll ride south. I'll take just a few guards, locals who will speak Greek. I have to find out if it's them or not."

"And if it is?"

"Gods help us, Frank. We saw what Percy could do as a teenager, imagine him as a grown man?"

"It's kind of scary to think about." Hazel nodded in assent. Frank observed his wife. He already knew the dread that was seeping into her. It was the same that he was feeling and based off of the wording of Reyna's letter, she felt it too. The two worlds were colliding. In their time, the war was averted, it did not appear that there was a greater threat to distract them from what they were both convinced would become mutual hatred.

"When do you want me to leave? What do we say to the other officers?"

"Go, leave tonight, Hazel. Tribune Antonius will be more than capable of taking care of your legion while you are gone. The request came from a Praetor, no one will say a godsdamn thing about it." Hazel hated to admit it, but when Frank began speaking in his authoritative voice she was turned on. Maybe it was because it was such a different side of him. Normally he made love to her tenderly, overly obsessed with ensuring her pleasure even while delaying his own. When he was in moods such as this, things were different.

"Frank."

"Yes?"

"Fuck me before I leave." An animalistic grin spread across his face and Hazel knew she had him snared.