When he first arrived at Camp Half-Blood, he expected to leave within the week. He didn't. He could have snapped his fingers and caused the Minotaur to dissipate into smoke, but he didn't. So instead, he fought, and tried to make it seem like a big ordeal, even as he passed the barrier unharmed. The same could not be said for the satyr, but Aviskos had already healed him in private.
He told them that his name was Perseus. Perseus Jackson. Dionysus snorted, and was about to speak, only for Aviskos to glare. Dinoysus sighed and changed his statement, not bothering to ask any questions. Aviskos liked that about him.
Later, Dionysus would ask what he was doing.
" I don't know." He answered truthfully. " I guess I wanted to see what being mortal felt like." Or a demigod. Dionysus smiled, a turn of lips previously unseen. He closed his eyes, and spoke gruffly.
" Trust me, Peter. It's worthless." Aviskos hesitates, knowing what Dionysus has gone through, and nods respectfully. Despite both being gods, Dionysus is still an Olympian, and miles stronger than he is. So Aviskos shrugs.
" Maybe for you. I wanted to taste it myself." Dionysus laughs at this.
" Piss, Peter. It tastes like Piss." He holds up his can of diet coke and chuckles further. " Tastes like fucking coke. Coke. Not Diet Coke-what were they thinking. It's the same, I tell you, all the fucking same." Aviskos takes the drink from Dionysus's hands.
" I love Coke." He says, taking a long sip. It's clear and strong between his lips and fizzles down his throat. Not nearly as sweet as Nectar, but not as thick either. It doesn't bring back any good memories, but maybe that's okay. Maybe he doesn't have to be reminded of impermenance every time he takes a drink.
Maybe.
There's a girl. Her name's Annabeth, Annabeth Chase. She's 12 years old, with blond hair and grey eyes. She wants to go outside, to experience something never before known.
" Why?" He asks her once.
She shrugs, stars in her eyes. " I don't know. It's exciting. New. I don't want to be cooped up. You're lucky. You got to see it." Truth is, Percy, or is it Aviskos, now, never has seen it. Has never seen anything other than the clean, royal walls of Olympus, catered to by satyrs and nymphs and dryads alike. Has never been given anything but the best. And maybe he should be grateful for the offerings and such, but really? Really, all he yearns for is simplicity, something that shocks him to this day.
Is he not blessed to be immortal?
Should he not be grateful for his luck in this infinite universe?
He is not. He doesn't want godhood, he realizes. He wants to be typical. He wants to be able to walk among humans and drown himself in the simplicity of it.
On his third day of Camp, Clarisse laRue tries to give him a swirlie. He breaks the water pipes and sends tap water to their faces. He could have done thousands of things, all of those more volatile, more dangerous, more fatal. He could have shown his true form, right there and then, incinerate them to smithereens- how dare you question me, mortal- but he doesn't.
Because Aviskos is the god of Heroes and Mercy. He may have been immortal, but he was always meant to question it. Was always meant to sympathise with the mortals of the world, was always meant to help them, to protect them, to watch them as they give their lives away, and think, you did enough, you did not need to do this.
Percy Jackson, they say, is a kind soul. Aviskos is as well, a trait out of place within a pantheon of otherworldly beings.
Aviskos is the God of Mercy, and he shows it in both his gifts and punishment. He doesn't ask for any punishment dealt after the incident, nor do they speak of it afterwards. He asks, only a day later, if Clarisse will possibly ever stop. She snorts and looks away. Aviskos walks and does not look back.
Maybe didn't show Ares's daughter a lesson, he at least showed her forgiveness.
What comes next is up to her.
Traivis and Connor are not twins. They may has well have been, however. They stick together no matter what, something that drills into Percy's heart, though he knows not why. It is later, he realizes that he wishes he had the same connection. Of, of course, upon immortals, there are siblings, the Archer Twins among the most famous. But none are as close as the demigods, who stick together, who function as a single unit and share the same mind.
Oh, they argue, of course, but even then, there is a friendly, protective barrier surrounding them. We are one, it says, we are together, no one can break us apart.
On Olympus, there is no such thing as bonds. Artemis and Apollo may be close, but there can be weeks, months gone by without a thought of the other, they don't need each other in the way that the demigods do.
He wonders if there is something dysfuncitonal between immortals. If the life that they have been forced upon has somehow hindered their growth. He envies, the mortals, he realizes, envies how easily they live and die, unburdened by centuries of betrayal and deceit and the political web that spins and weaves around Olympus. How wonderful it must be, to live unburdened.
Luke Castellan is a traitor, there is no way around that.
Perhaps, ages ago, Aviskos would have wondered what they did wrong. Now he does not wonder. He knows. He knows because of the way Luke flinches in fear when an immortal's name is spoken, even as hatred laces his voice and defience in his eyes. Luke hates the gods, that is true, and he has every right to be.
But, he fears them. Perhaps he fears that he will be struck down the same way Thalia was. Perhaps he fears having to tiptoe around every immortal, every word chosen wisely, every offering meticulously picked lest he be blasted to smilthereens. And he hates them for it. Hates being locked in a cage, forced to bend to the whims of others.
Luke is a traitor, and that fascinates him.
Because, while Luke hates the gods, he does not hate their children. The same eyes used to glare hatefully at the sky peer warmly into his. The same mouth that sprouted vile, treacherous words were the same that comforted demigods after a difficult quest.
For a while, Percy wonders if he is a lie, if all of his actions were nothing but a mask to hide his true nature. That is not the case. Hermes's son is naturally like this. He may have two faces that is true, but both are real, and neither is less natural than the other.
It's fascinating, the complexity of human emotions.
Utterly fascinating.
This was not the first time that Aviskos has been wrong. He had origianally thought that Silena Beauregard and Charles Beckendorf had been faking their dates, or at least using them for ulterior motives. Yet, when he brought his concerns to Nyssa, Charles' sister, she had merely laughed in his face.
He learned later that it was genuine.
" Why?" He asks Silena, once, sitting on the porch of the Big House, glasses of lemonade in their hands. " Why are you dating? Don't your parents hate each other?" Silena laughs, but unlike Nyssa, she explains.
" Why should our parents influence our choicces?" She asks him. " We're our own people, not copies of our parents." He nods. It's still odd, though he thinks, for the children of enemies to love each other.
" Doesn't it feel awkward?" He asks.
Silena shakes her head. " No. It feels... natural. There's nothing forcing us together, but there's nothing against it either." She smiles warmly at him.
" Our parents don't influence our choices. Follow your own heart." She leaves him, and just like that, for the first time, Percy Jackson thinks that Annabeth Chase looks dashingly beautiful in the sunlight.
Through Silena, Aviskos meets the other Aphrodite children. There's Drew Tanaka, who wears lies and arrogance and hate like a perfectly applied layer of makeup to hide the hurt and insecurity she feels inside. Others may be drawn away, but Avikos is nothing if not patient. He is the god of it after all. So Drew Tanaka yells at him and calls him out for his clothes and acne and hair, and Percy smiles and talks to her about makeup and shampoo and fashion, and anything to get her to open up. Hestia may be the best at coaxing admissions from others, but Aviskos will always be second.
He listens to Drew rampage and rant, and listens with all ears, not giving any advice until she asks, because he knows, as well as anybody, that sometimes, people don't need answers. They don't need to hear people talk and solve. Sometimes, they only need people that listen to their troubles. And Percy Jackson listens, if nothing else.
Lacy is a cute innocent girl, with dreams of clouds and birds and butterflies crowding in her head.
"I'd love to fly," She says. " Don't you? I think it'd be free. I want to be free."
Aviskos can fly, he simply refuses, for his realm is that of seas and salt and fish, and gleaming scales with trident teeth, and such things do not belong in the skies. Aviskos has forsaken the sky long ago, and has even longer since forgotten the pull of the earth. Now all there is is the sea, and now, perhaps he can forget that too. So instead, he looks up with glazed eyes and a blissful smile.
" You're already free." He says. " You're your own person. If you want, you can take a plane from here and never look back. There are ways to be free other than flight." Lacy says something about him being dramatic, but later, Percy watches her stare at the sky with a contemplative look, and tears away.
Mitchelle is always forgotten. Even by Chiron. Much of the camp forgets the Male Children of Aphrodite in favor of her Girls. He looks suprised when Percy walks up to him, holding out a tray of pancakes and blueberries.
" Silena told me you weren't eating." He says. It's a lie, but it's better than saying 'I've been keeping track of you because I was worried.' The camp does not know that Percy is a god, and that is perfect, because if they did know, then he would not be able to talk to them without doubting if their words were true or a self-preserving lie. " She noticed." She noticed. She cares. We care, he left unsaid. Mitchelle gave a slight smile, eating.
" Pancakes are my favorite." He says, in a small ,quiet voice.
" I know. Silena told me."
" I didn't tell her."
" She's very observant." Mitchelle gives a slight, melodic laugh and smiles. Percy grins.
" You should talk more." He points out. " You have a great voice,"
" Maybe I will."
Will Solace spends all his time in the infirmy, not because he is wounded or reckless, but because he enjoys it. Percy can understand the thrill of healing, the amazement of saving a life, and the feeling of utter power when a life is brought back from the brink of death. But why anyone would spend so much time around the sick and dying is beyond him.
" Do you ever hate it?" He asks. " All the pain, death and dying?".
" Why would I?" Will asks absently. " There's death, yes, but there's also life. I heal people. I saved them. Why wouldn't I want to do more?"
" But what about death? Aren't you afraid? " Will smiles.
" No." He says plainly and then continues. " If they die, if I can't do anything else, I try to make them feel better, I read letters, stories, tell jokes. Anything to put a smile on their face. They might die, but at least they die happy. That's more than most can say." He grins at Percy. " It's a good way to go, don't you thing?" Die happy. It's an interesting thought.
Aviskos always pictured his demise as defending Olympus with his final breath. Maybe he doesn't have to, as a mortal. Maybe he will not be forced under that fate. Perhaps he can die peacefully in his sleep, surrounded by his loved ones, perhaps with black hair and grey eyes, or blonde with green, until his heart beats out on it's own. Perhaps he can welcome death with open arms. Perhaps, for once, he can learn to embrace death without fearing it.
Perhaps he can find peace. It's an interesting thought.
Michael Yew is the opposite of his brother. He fights with every breath, and unlike Solace, he is under no illusion of a peaceful slumber. He knows that he will die in battle, because that is what he wishes. Percy wonders what he thinks of death. Does he fear or has he already accepted it?
" Why do you fight?" He asks. Michael stops for a moment, thinking, and then gets up from his chair, leading Percy outside. They walk around the cabins for a moment before Michael speaks.
" For Nyssa." He says. " For her siblings. For mine. For Will and Silena and Lacy, and, hell, even Drew. I'm fighting so they don't have to." Percy doesn't quite get it.
" Don't they know how to fight? They have to. They're demigods." Aviskos was always a soldier, raised as one by Poseidon himself. To not fight for one's birthright was a perplexity he simply could not get. Michael shakes his head.
" Do they? Do they have to? They're children, Percy. Not soldiers. They deserve to be children for much longer." And I'll do anything to keep it that way, he leaves unsaid. Michael fights so others don't have to. He stains his hands with blood so others will remain innocent and untainted. He is dirty so others are clean. It's admirable, but Percy is nothing if not selfish, and just like that, he starts thinking about putting his sword down and never picking it up again. He thinks of replacing it with a book and phone and a pen, or whatever he was going to use for a mortal job.
Lou Ellen Blackstone is unclaimed. Percy knows that she is a child of Hecate, but doesn't say. Lou Ellen doesn't care. She likes the people and company and crowd of the Hermes cabin. The two of them, among the unclaimed, talk about who they wish to be their godly parent.
" I hope I'm an Aphrodite kid," Valentina Diaz giggles. Fitting, because she is.
" I just hope I'm not Apollo," Percy confesses, " No offense to Apollo kids, but, 'Early bird gets the worm?' No thanks, I think I'll pass."
Lou Ellen thinks about it for a while before speaking. " I don't really care. I just don't want to be alone."
" Why not?" Percy asks. He has always been alone, found it comforting even, to know that there were no distractions. But then again, perhaps there was a difference between mortals and immortals that he could not quite claim.
Lou Ellen shrugs. " I just don't want to be alone. I want... friends. Family. I have that now. Why would I want it to leave?" Percy thinks that's funny, somewhat, because he has only ever had a family in all but name. Looking at the demigods around him, that he has cared for and have cared for him in return... maybe it's time to change that.
" What's love feel like?" He asks Beckendorf. He freezes and thinks for a moment. Then he speaks.
" It's... it's when you look at someone." He says tersely, looking at Percy as though unsure of what he was saying. " And you realize that... despite everything. No matter what happens, no matter what will or has or is happening. You'll still care for them. Like having the whole world... be muted and broken, so slight it's unnoticeable and yet... when you see them. It makes you question everything you've ever thought you've known. It changes you, I guess. In ways that make you completely different, yet the most yourself you could ever be."
Percy smiled.
" Ironic." He muttered to himself, thinking back to the first person he met in Camp Half-Blood, one with blonde hair, grey eyes, who dreamed of a world outside of what she knew, and all that came after.
In one world, Percy Jackson was offered immortality and turned it down.
In this world, Percy Jackson was always immortal, and seeked mortality anyways.
Funny how the universe worked, how somethings were always bound to happen, through time and space and thousands of universes apart. Because in every world, there was a Percy Jackson.
And in every world, that Percy Jackson chose mortality.