Percy opens his eyes, his wrist covering them momentarily. Blinding sun rays stream across the room, the one that is not his, twinning with the view outside that is definitely NOT New York City.

His breath hitched, and the coarseness of whatever he is laying on chafes his skin. This isn't home, it isn't in the apartment with Sally, it isn't in Cabin 3, and it sure as hell isn't the bed he woke up on to see Calypso staring at him. The sun's heat is emwrong/em, the feeling of the breeze against his skin is not the wind he is used to, and neither is the smell of an unpolluted beach.

He took a deep breath, calming himself and glancing around the room once more. Right, I pissed someone off, and I'm stuck in a fucking Ren-Faire.

The morning sun was not welcoming, not after it had ever so rudely burned his body yesterday. The wool in the bed, although covered with hides, felt scratchy and oddly… crunchy?

The boy stretched, his joints cracking. Damn, and here he thought he had a young body.

The room was a beige color with a few accents here and there, all illuminated by the sunlight.

Muffled voices could be heard outside of his bedroom. Danaë and Dictys, it seemed. Percy hadn't been here long, but their voices were as familiar as the feeling of water.

He stumbles out of his bed, hissing when his arm was scratched against the rough bedding. A chiton awaited him on the edge of a table, all laid out and moving with the breeze that seemed to cry softly.

Percy steps out into the hall and down the steps, seeing Danaë at the home's altar. She hadn't noticed him yet, seemingly caught up in her prayer.

When she does, her eyes widen for a moment and settle by looking him over. Checking for injuries, he thinks. He recognizes the look, how couldn't he?

Sally's eyes analyzed Percy as he walked in the door. She couldn't run to reach him, to hug him. Gabe would always make sure that only the bare minimum of affection was only given. So although the vile man stood between them, Sally's eyes spoke of reunion and love for her child.

There was so much that she could not do for him. Gabe had always intervened with his repulsive stench and large hands. He knew what fear he could inflict, and he liked it.

"You've awoken late, Perseus. Dinner is about to begin." Danaë laughed softly, petting Percy's wild hair.

He wished he could return the love that the true Perseus felt for his mother. But hey, if he was stuck in some academia nerd's fantasy lifestyle, he'd better appreciate it.

"Sorry… I would've woken up earlier." Percy awkwardly replied, uncomfortable with the pair of eyes staring into him. Danaë simply smiled at the boy and walked through the house once more, seemingly leading him into the dining room.

Two girls sat in the kitchen, giggling and laughing over something that must've been hilarious. Danaë smiled at them but stopped when she and Percy reached the dining room.

"Dictys wishes to have you eat with him separately tonight, my son," Danaë said, not a drip of bitterness in her voice. "It must be important, I have not seen him this way in quite some time."

Percy looked at the woman, her eyes tinted with sorrow. "Do you know if it's anything bad?" He asked her carefully, hoping to somewhat match up with her true son's personality.

Her lips pursed again. Percy had only known her for -what, less than twenty-four hours?- but could now tell it was a sure sign of anxiousness slipping through.

"I fear it is about Polydectes. For the better or worse." She finished, looking away from her son's face. "Go, I wish to know no more of it as of now."

Her voice was strong and motherly, one that must had been used over and over again when scolding a child. As far as Percy remembered, Perseus was an only child. That surely helped things. Siblings, as he's learned through his time at Camp Half Blood, could sniff anything out of each other. A good example of that was Travis and Connor Stoll, the resident Hermes kids.

He misses them.

Just as Danaë said, Dictys awaits Percy in the dining hall. One of the previous girls, -a servant, maybe- placed a plate of warmed bread and fish. Sliced carrots and cabbage awaited him on the side, and Percy begins to wonder if he's ever truly lived before eating this. It looks fantastic and is bound to taste so.

Percy made his way over to his designated spot at the table and sat down, facing Dictys across the table.

Both men simply ate their food, Percy going at a faster rate than Dictys. They would exchange rapid glances before looking away from each other once more.

Finally, a question came from Dictys, searing the more-than-awkward silence between the two.

"King Polydectes, my brother, wants your mother's hand in marriage." Dictys spoke quietly, almost as if the sentence was too hard for him to bear. Perhaps it was. Or it wasn't, no biggie. Percy still had no damn idea what was happening.

The fisherman looks up at Percy and then back down at his plate, slicing the head off of the fish on his plate.

"Perseus, he does not deserve your mother. I can not think of some entity that does."

Oh. Oh.

Well, the million-dollar question is always on the table. How far can you push an adult's limits?

Percy doesn't mean for his retort to come out so harshly, and he means it. "Did my father, Dictys?"

Dictys stopped slicing the fish and placed his silverware down, looking at the demigod in front of him. "Do be careful with your words, Perseus, haven't I taught you this?" He asks, his voice filled with more concern than should be necessary.

Percy sighs and continues eating his food, taking small swigs of the pulverized goat cheese handed to him by that girl.

The awkward silence returned, both men not being able to articulate words correctly.

"Perseus, I have never been more grateful for that when I found you and your mother. It is nothing to shame your father for, for he has saved you both. In addition, blessed my life." Dictys speaks, glaring up at Percy almost as if he is trying his best to uncover the secret of Percy's misplaced soul.

His fork falls out of his hand and clatters against the table. He wanted information, this was the way to get it. Act like a child, and pray to all of the gods that it works one final time.

Percy put on his best puppy-dog eyes, hoping they had the same effect on should-be-dead people as they do the people in his life.

"Tell me that, again," Percy said quietly, but the comment is well received in Dictys' ears. The fisher refused, simply shaking his head and looking down.

"Dictys, speak of my father, please."