Chapter Two

Percy had snuck into Troy without any issue. The city was still in the process of preparing for war, but they weren't quite secure yet. Some holes would be plugged soon enough, but he would stake his life that even once the Achaeans arrived, there would be a way in. There was only so far that he could sneak without any issues, however, and he had presented himself to the court of Priam early in the procession.

"The next supplicant is…Alexios of Lesbos," the herald read out, and Percy stepped forward. Hektor started in surprise, and Priam blinked twice.

"Alexios, is it?" Priam chuckled, "I do believe we've been lied to."

There was an immediate shift from the guards and Hektor, but Priam raised a hand and they all stilled.

"The reaction of hearing I was here would have been too much for most," Percy shrugged, "either that, or it would've involved a feast, and I'm not particularly hungry at the moment."

"Regardless, a guest as esteemed as you should not be greeted so simply," Priam said, "you are practically royalty, are you not, Perseus Apollyon?" Several women gasped, and Percy saw several men reach for their weapons, the guards not included. "The son of the King of the Seas, the nephew to the King of the Gods, and King of the Underworld. A Prince of the World."

"The only thing I am the prince of is my farm, Priam," Percy said simply, "and so long as your son holds Helen, I cannot return to it."

"Oh?"

"I was one of her suitors," he said simply. The colour drained from Hektor's face, and Priam lost his confidence. "I am sworn by oath to defend her husband, so I have come here to ask for her safe return."

"No!" Paris yelled, rushing forward with a hand on the pommel of his sword, "I have married her! She's my wife now!"

"Be quiet, child, or I'll silence you myself." Percy snapped, stopping Paris in his tracks. After staring the prince down a moment longer, he turned back to Priam. "Forgive me if I'm wrong, but even Trojans don't believe that a woman can remarry while her husband still lives—so I'll say it again, allow me to return with Helen, and war will be averted. Refuse…refuse, and I will not be the only one to come for your city, King Priam."

"I…am afraid that we cannot, Perseus," Priam said, pinching the bridge of his nose, "you are correct—a woman cannot remarry while her husband lives, but Aphrodite herself blessed the union between Paris and Helen. By the mandate of the gods, it is valid."

"One goddess, not them all, I can assure you, Priam," Percy dropped the honorific in kind, "the gods are quite divided on the issue. I'm almost certain that Athena would love nothing more than to have Troy sacked just to spite Aphrodite. Apollo will naturally support you, but Hera stands ready to challenge him. And my father…my father will support me. Do you remember who I support?"

"Then it seems it will be war," Priam sighed, "I truly wished it did not come to this. You gave me sage advice many years ago, advice that allowed me to peacefully expand my kingdom."

"I also believe some of my sage advice was to avoid a war with Greece," Percy reminded him, "because as disunited as they are now, nothing makes Greeks fight together like a foreign threat. Which you now are."

"Lord Perseus," Hektor said to break the silence that had followed his words, "it is said that you are immortal, as the gods are."

"Not quite, but I feel that isn't the point." Percy said. "Speak to it, Prince Hektor."

"It is also said that oaths sworn by the gods need not…necessarily be obeyed by them," Hektor continued, and Percy held in a grin. He was clever, this Hektor. More than a simple warrior, he would make a great king one day. If he survived the war. "Would the same not apply to you?"

"It does," Percy acknowledged, and some of the tension vanished. "But I believe a man is only as good as his word, and while I am immortal, I still am a man. I will not break my oath, Hektor, not for Helen, and certainly not for your brother. He was selfish, and now your kingdom will suffer for it."

"I won't stand for these insults!" Paris exclaimed, drawing his sword again. Gasps echoed around the room again, and Percy felt what little patience he had left vanish.

"You'll stand for whatever I wish to say, boy!" he whirled on Paris, who suddenly looked far less confident. Unarmed and unarmoured, Percy was still able to cow him. It was pathetic. "Have you already forgotten what I did at my farm? Have you never heard the stories of the oceans of blood I have created or the creatures I have hunted from the mortal plane? Do you think that you—a son sent to live among the shepherds for most of his life—is something even remotely threatening to me? I have tolerated your insolence and arrogance because I was trying to broker a peace, but it is clear to me that one will never come. Very well, then before I return to Achaea, I will give you this one warning, King of Troy, and all those who will fight alongside him."

He turned back to Priam; whose eyes were wide with fear for his imbecile of a son.

"Greece is a hand, with each finger operating independently of each other. But it is not Greece, or Greeks, that come for you. It is Achaea, a fist, acting as one, that shall land on your shores, besiege your city, and kill your families. It is Athens and Sparta, Mycenae and Thessaly, Argos and Ithaca. I could go on, but I do not have the time or patience," the court was silent, cowed just as their prince was. "I am old. Older than this kingdom, older than your bloodline, and older than many of the gods you worship. I have fought in wars so bloody that you could not comprehend them. I have led armies so large it was impossible to see the how far they stretched. And I have destroyed empires far larger and far stronger than this kingdom. All my experience will go towards ending this war, and I will do it with men and warriors who wish for nothing but the utter destruction of Troy, and the return of Queen Helen. This is the last time you shall see me with no blade in my hand, and no armour on my breast. For those of you who encounter me on the battlefield, I hope you lived a life with few regrets."

"Hold, Perseus," Priam called out. "I apologize for my son's actions. It seems that the manners of a prince still evade him at times. Allow me to prepare a feast, and we will have one last meal as friends before there is war."

"No." He said simply, ignoring the reaction of the court. One did not just refuse a king. "I appreciate you valuing our past relationship, King Priam, but we are not friends. I came here to avoid a war, but you have decided that one god and one goddess are enough protection. You have decided that pride and vanity are worth more than peace and security, and I will not accept that. I can see your wife here, and your daughters. I also see Andromache, your son's wife. What if I stole her in the dead of night, took her away from you and married her? Would you not demand I return her? Would you not go to war when I refused? I promise you, unlike Paris and Helen, I could receive the blessings of any immortal I asked, and there would be no doubting that the gods supported me. But a thousand ships are launching to Troy because you are a foolish mortal who thinks he has the protection of the gods."

"You don't." Percy continued after a moment of staring down Priam. "They are heavily divided on the matter. Apollo is the only one who truly cares for your city. Aphrodite only cares for her games. The moment she becomes bored with the idea of Paris and Helen—and she will become bored with them—your city loses her favour. I told you, I am old. But I am also immortal. You will send your sons out to me, and I will kill them. There is nothing you will be able to do but watch. You were a clever boy when we first met. But you've become any other man I've ever met."

He pivoted on a heel and marched towards the doors. The guards had crossed their spears, and Percy paused, waiting for them to be lifted.

"I have killed for lesser reasons than stopping me from leaving a building," he told them bluntly. The spears were uncrossed, and Percy stepped into the blinding light of Troy. He glanced up at the sun, frowned, and began the trek to the stables.

By the end of the week, he'd be back in Greece, moving to Mount Pelion. By the time winter had passed, and Persephone returned to her mother, Percy would stand in front of Troy once again. Despite his misgivings of the reasons, part of him was excited to be going to war once more. It was wrong of him, he knew that, but Percy excelled at it. There was no shame in taking joy from what one was good at.

Right?

XXXVXXX

"Dead," Percy said as he rested the tip of his blade at Naomi's throat. The Huntress glared at him, but it had no heat behind it. She was embarrassed more than anything. "You over-committed and forgot that you were using a sword, not a dagger. By the time you began to bring it down, I was inside your guard."

"I don't normally use a sword," she said, "you know this."

"I also know that I could've killed you, if it pleased me," Percy told her. Zoe blinked at his tone. He was deadly serious. "If you think that using a dagger gives you the advantage over a swordsman, you're wrong. Even with your centuries of experience, an exceptional swordsman can and will beat you."

"I'm too fast for any mortal," Naomi disagreed, "and I don't hunt alone."

"Is that what you think?" Percy gave her a curious look that Zoe couldn't place. "Very well. One moment."

Zoe watched as Percy knocked on the door of Chiron's cabin, vanishing inside.

"He's different," Celyn muttered, "I don't think he's entirely happy to see us."

"I don't think it's us," Zoe replied, her eyes flickering to where Apollo, Artemis, and Ares stood watching. Standing across from them, rather tensely, was the coalition of Athena, Hera, and Hermes. "And I don't particularly think he wishes to fight in the war that is coming."

"Percy doesn't care to fight in any war," Naomi said, flicking her sword into the earth while she waited. "But he always does. I'm not sure what's different about this one."

The cabin door opened again, and Percy came striding out, a set of armour one that he hadn't been wearing before. It was completely unadorned, and Zoe—for the life of her—couldn't figure out what was so special about it that required him going inside.

"This is armour cursed by Hephaestus to slow it's wearer down," Percy explained, "for most mortals, they'd be reduced to swinging wildly and slowly. This brings me down to a mortal's speed. Naomi, Celyn, and…Kassandra. Fight me."

"What?" Kassandra blinked. "Three against one is hardly fair!"

"I can get you two more companions if you're still worried," Percy stared her down. It wasn't a joke, and it riled the girls up. They all drew their weapons and approached Percy from a different side. "Any day now, children. I've got things that need to be done."

Percy was normally as fast as any huntress, even burdened with armour. Watching him closely now, Zoe could see that he was visibly slower. It didn't stop him from diverting Kassandra's stab towards him to the right, forcing Celyn to leap away and abort her strike. Percy leaned back slightly, with Naomi's blow cutting air, and his sword came back, battering her own out of her hands. It was followed by a killing strike that had Zoe flinch when it came to an abrupt stop just shy of her fellow Hunter's neck.

"Dead," Percy said again, before stepping back. "Any mortal can get lucky. Any immortal can get overconfident. Don't let either happen."

"Perhaps we should spare the training for another day," Zoe suggested softly, "when there is no audience?"

"I'm not doing this for or because of them," Percy jerked his head in the gods' direction, "frankly, I don't know why most of them are here. Well, I know why those Trojan ones are here. I can't for the life of me pin down why the Achaean supporting gods are present."

"Perhaps they simply want to see you?" She offered. He snorted in response.

"Don't even try," he shook his head. "For that, you get to spar me next."

"I might win," she pointed out, "you're handicapped."

"It just means we're on a more even playing field." Percy fired back. "Stop talking. Fight!"

It was no surprise that even with a handicap, Percy was still better than her. She lunged forward and stabbed with her blade, but Percy batted it aside, smacking the flat of the blade with his palm and resting his own on her shoulder beside her neck.

"Dead."

Zoe cursed and reset. This time, she let him move first, an overhead swing that was ended early and instead turned into a hammer blow. She weaved to the side, bringing her blade across his stomach, but the armour simply absorbed the blow. Percy's arm wrapped around her elbow and he began applying pressure, forcing her to release the sword as he brought the tip of his own to her throat.

He stared at her for a moment, eyes completely blank. "Dead."

"You're normally more fun, you know," she pointed out, "and you're taking your bad mood out on us. It's not fair."

"I'm sorry," Percy sighed, releasing her arm and taking a step back. "And you're right. My frustration shouldn't be taken out on you."

"Yes, well I am often right," Zoe preened, earning a swat on her arm from the flat of his blade. "Hey!"

"Let me deal with them, and then you girls will have my full attention for the rest of the day."

"Do you promise?"

"I swear it on the Styx," Percy declared solemnly, thunder rumbling in response. "I won't go easy on any of you though—you've been too snarky today for that."

Zoe rolled her eyes, but she had to grant him that. It was an especially mouthy day for the Hunt, but that wasn't unusual when Percy was involved. Many of the younger girls had negative experiences with men, so the fact that their veterans would be so comfortable around this one confused and probably upset them. They had done their best to explain just who Percy was, but sometimes the man himself needed to act to prove his worth. It was a cycle she had seen since she joined the Hunt.

Zoe watched as he ambled over to the gods, stepping between the two parties with both his palms held up. One thing was certain—she didn't like this factionalism, and from the looks of it, neither did Percy. It could only end badly, and the last thing she wanted to see was Olympus divided because of some petty mortal kings. It didn't seem…proportional, she supposed. Hopefully, the war would be quick, and relationships would be mended within the lifetime of this generation of mortals.

MMXX

So this chapter is about half the length of chapter one, and it's probably going to be the benchmark for what the rest of this story will be. Within the 2500-3500 range, most likely. One of the things I want to do in this story is make Percy less of a deus ex machina in himself, and more of a character in his own right. So while the Perseid and Eternal had Percy going 'F*ck the fates, I do what I want' it's more 'F*ck the fates, their plan sucks, but I respect their role and will adhere to it.'

As always, let me know what you think, and leave a review, send me a PM, or both! Both is good! And because I just have a feeling, even though I've written this ages before I actually publish it, don't ask me when I'm going to update this story. I'm guessing by the time I start posting this story, it will almost be finished, if not already done, and I'll have a schedule to stick to.

And a schedule I do have! From this point on, this story will be updated every Friday (for me), until I catch up to where I've written, where ever that may be. That means, as of right now, there are ten more completed chapters to post, so ten more weeks of content. Hopefully by the time we reach the end of what I have written right now, I'll have finished the story, but who knows?

Cheers, CombatTombat