I always got the vibe that Jason never really wanted to be a leader. It was expected of him, so he was, but he sounded reluctant. And Gwen was important enough for Jason to remember at the end of TLH, but then they never even spoke, and I'm low-key bitter about that, so I wanted them to interact.
VENI, VIDI, VICI
Jason was upset. Then again, while upset wasn't discouraged, Romans weren't supposed to show how upset they were.
"What's eating you up kid?" Gwendolyn asked, setting aside Jason's sword to sit next to him.
"It's just... I can't do this," Jason sighed.
To his horror, he felt his eyes get prickly with tears. Sure, sadness was something everyone felt, but he wasn't allowed to cry, he was part of the Twelfth Legion Fulminata of demigods. He was Jupiter's son!
Gwen didn't comment on his reddening eyes. She was nice that way. She wanted to be a Centurion of their cohort someday, and Jason was sure she'd do a great job.
"Can't do what?"
"I can't beat stupid Octavian!" Jason scoffed.
Gwen hid a smirk, or tried to. Jason couldn't see what was so funny. He was frustrated. Octavian was a cruel boy, and even though he was like four years older than himself, he wasn't big. Jason should totally be able to beat him!
"Jason," Gwen put a hand on his shoulder. "Octavian's a head taller than you, when you're 14, then you'll be better at sword-fighting than him."
"But Tommy Wheeler said I had to be better than him," Jason heard his own whine and winced.
He was supposed to be a future leader of the legion, that's what everyone always said. 'Jupiter's boy, you'll be great someday', 'The future rests in your hands, your father would want you to think like him', 'A budding praetor if I've ever seen one, keep training to be the best, Rome only accepts the best'.
And yet he couldn't even beat stupid, wiry Octavian in a fencing match. Perhaps Jason deserved to whine a little.
"Then Tommy Wheeler's a fool," Gwen decided. Gwen always talked like that, like she knew everything. Jason guessed when he was 15, he'd know everything, too, just like Gwen. "He shouldn't have told you that."
Jason gave her a disbelieving glance, "He's the praetor of our legion."
"Then all the more reason for him to be careful with his words," Gwen argued. Jason liked that of her, once she had an idea in her mind, nothing could move her from it. "Jason, you're a boy, whether you like it or not, you have tons of growing ahead of you."
"But I have to be good now," Jason insisted. He really liked Gwen but she didn't understand. "If I'm not awesome now, then they'll never trust me to be great when I'm old."
"Jason, 14 isn't old," Gwen said. "You're being so incredibly dramatic."
Jason sighed loudly, "I want to beat Octavian now!"
Gwen took a deep breath and looked at the sky. Jason wondered if she was praying to his dad to obliterate him.
"All right," she said at last. "You want to get better? We'll get you to be better."
Jason's spirits lifted a bit, "Really?"
"Yes," Gwen promised. "But I'll try to train you to beat Octavian in both training and tactic. I'm not the smartest nor the strongest, but I know who is, and I know how to convince them. They'd be running over themselves to train the legion's golden boy."
Jason nodded. He wasn't so sure of those things, but if Gwen was, that was enough for him.
"From now on, you'll spend every spare second you have training," Gwen ordered. "Octavian's not strong, if you want to beat him, you have to think. Every opponent has a weakness, it's our job as Romans to find that weakness and exploit it."
"Um..."
"We'll start by me," Gwen grabbed the fallen sword, and handed it back to Jason. "I'm not great at sword fighting, but I've seen you fight, so I know your style better than you know mine..."
Jason understood soon enough what Gwen meant about knowing your enemy. Jason was angry and although he won in the end, there were several near misses that could've been avoided if he'd been cleverer rather than brutal.
Jason covered his face with his hands and exhaled all the air out of his lungs.
This was a nightmare. Mount Tam was absolutely overrun by monsters. A whole army. And titans to boot.
The legion had set camp a few miles away, hidden from the mountain's direct view.
"Do you think all their generals are titans?"
Jason startled out of his thoughts, he felt, rather than saw, Gwen sit next to him.
"I was wondering," she said. "Can monsters get promoted, or is their army monsterphobic?"
"I don't think monsters care all that much," Jason admitted, sitting properly. "They're just happy to have a Triple McDemigod with fries on the side for lunch, how they get it isn't important."
"What's bothering you?" Gwen asked. She looked at him with sympathy, but not pity.
Jason's lungs constricted again, "It's just... I can't do this."
Gwen rubbed circles into his back while he regained his composure.
"I don't think I can be the leader they want me to be," Jason said. "We've lost so many people already, and the real battle hasn't even begun."
"But we've saved San Francisco," Gwen reminded him. "No mortal casualties, almost no damage to their structures..."
Jason nodded.
"Jason," she said. "You can do this."
And he really wanted to believe her, but he was just a kid. Their laissez-faire praetors had been overly cautious, gaining no ground whatsoever. They'd dropped the responsibility of defending the city, and destroying the enemy to the centurions.
Of course, that had translated to 'ask the son of Jupiter, he'll find a way', and now every death out there was on him. He was lucky he had Reyna by his side, but the rest of the centurions had taken to looking up to him to change the course of the war.
"Is it that you don't think you can," Gwen wondered slowly. "Or is it that you don't want this to be on your hands?"
Jason shrugged noncommittally. He didn't know how to answer that. Or, actually, he did. But his answer wasn't Roman, so he kept it to himself.
"Does it matter?" he asked. "There's no choice. I'd rather man up to it than just dump everything on Reyna's shoulders."
"That's not your style, no," Gwen smiled. "Instead of thinking that you have to play king, think of the things you want to do. You want to save Camp Jupiter. You want your friends to survive. You want to make your father proud. Not every decision is on you, and you alone, Jason."
"It feels that way," Jason confessed bitterly. "The rest of them don't even try to offer ideas."
"Then ask them to share," Gwen said. "Don't cut it at 'this is my plan', add 'what have you guys come up with?'. It'll make them uncomfortable to be bested by a 15 year old. They'll start coming up with stuff out of shame, at least."
"Well if I die, at least I know you'll be a better centurion than I've ever been," Jason said. "Very motivating."
"Aren't you a ray of sunshine?" She stood up and offered a hand to him. "C'mon, Centurion Grace. Your people await. If you're taking up the responsibility, it's time to act."
"Yes," Jason decided. "Let's get Reyna and the rest of the senate. We have to finish this once and for all."
"That's what I'm talking about," she slapped his shoulder. "Off you go, young man, be a leader, save the world. There'll be time to be nihilistic and dramatic afterwards."
He rolled his eyes.
Jason was the son of Jupiter. He was powerful, and power came at a price. He was born a leader, it was what the people needed of him.
He had been trained since he could remember. He'd been taught to take the first step, spot weakness, and win. Veni, vidi, vici.
Romans didn't refuse responsibility. They embraced it, and they led their people to victory.
So that's what Jason did.
Tommy Wheeler was made up for the sole purpose of needing a name, if that's some other character's (or person's) name, it wasn't on purpose.