AN: Obviously with the rating going up to M there's some slightly heavier stuff in this chapter, and I should probably include a trigger warning for rape in this chapter.
Prized Possession
7: In Extremis
"The atrocities that horrified us a week ago become acceptable tomorrow." - Joseph Heller
It only takes Percy a few days to realise that the dawn is his favourite part of the day. Life on Othrys is such that he now rises with the sun, so that he can sit and gaze out of his window. From the mountain, he has a beautiful view to the east, so he can see the sun climb over the rolling hills and cast its warmth over his face.
He wonders what happened to Apollo. Does he know that his sister is bearing the sky again? Does he blame Percy?
The real reason Percy loves the dawn, though, is because it is his. Atlas or Perses, whichever one is on duty that day, won't come and get him until about eight o'clock, which gives him plenty of time to relax in the glow of the morning. It makes him feel like Rapunzel, except with more sensible hair.
Unfortunately, while dawn is Percy's favourite part of life, Percy seems to be Dawn's. Eos follows him constantly, whispering to him and leaving lingering touches on his skin. When he tries to push her away, she chuckles coldly and vanishes. It's disconcerting, rather than scary, but Atlas says he is worried that she plans mischief, and Percy can't see it ending well for either of them.
Othrys being the titan stronghold, Percy grows used to seeing other members of the family around the place, too.
Most, like Oceanus and Tethys when they visit, choose to hide their disgust behind a thin veil in public, and treat him to scathing remarks and icy glares him the rest of the time.
A few others, like Prometheus and Perses, simply don't care, and ignore him whenever they have the choice. He quite likes those ones.
Atlas is the only titan who seems to have any kind of positive feeling towards Percy, excluding the slightly disturbing nature of Eos' feelings. Friendliness is too strong a word, but Atlas seems to respect Percy's efforts in the war, and to have a little sympathy for the way Kronos is using him now. The titan is not keen on subterfuge or trickery.
And then there are those who hate him openly, even when Kronos is present: Hyperion and Menoetius, whom he often sees whispering together in the corridors. They always stop abruptly when they catch sight of him, though.
Othrys is spacious enough that he knows they could find meeting spots where he wouldn't accidentally come across them, so he's pretty certain that it's an intimidation tactic. He hopes that they're loyal enough to Kronos that they wouldn't actually kill him, but that begs the question of what they are plotting. The uncertainty there is every bit as terrifying as the thought of death, in a way.
That's only the times when he's allowed out of his rooms, of course. He's tried to leave the room without Atlas or Perses three times: the first, in the evening, after they dropped him off, the second in the middle of the night, when the rest of Othrys should have been asleep, and the third in the early morning, before they arrived to pick him up. Each time, he made it some ten or fifteen metres down the hallway before his cuffs activated, leaving him squirming on the tile floor until he crawled his way back bed.
However confident of control the titans are, there are clearly some things they still don't want him doing, and as in every other area of life, he is powerless to defy them.
For now, though it is dawn, and Percy is able to cast these things from his mind, leaning over the sill and gazing out at the glow spilling over the hills.
He closes his eyes and he basks.
It can never last, though. He's disturbed by a tentative knock on his door.
"Come in," he says.
It's Stephen, the slave-boy he saved from execution. Kronos has made him a gift of the boy: he's now Percy's personal property. Now, he brings Percy fresh clothes every morning, thankfully devoid of the logos that marked the early days here. Kronos loved humiliating Percy, but it seems he values the illusion of his collusion even more. If Percy wants it, Stephen can bring some breakfast too, but Kronos isn't happy if he's absent from the main rooms too often, so he's saving those days off for when he needs them most.
"Thanks," says Percy, and Stephen bows. Percy's tried to tell him that when no-one else is there it's unnecessary, but Stephen seems scared of stopping, and Percy honestly doesn't feel comfortable pushing him. He can't know what's happened to the boy before now. To be honest, thanking him is also unnecessary, if Stephen's his slave, but it would feel wrong not to say it. If he can't free the boy, he can at least show him some appreciation for the work he does.
He laughs wryly as he finds himself calling Stephen a boy. He's the same age as Percy at least, if not a little older. On the other hand, Percy doubts Stephen's seen half of what he has in his life, even as a prisoner on Othrys.
There's a red mark, just beginning to fade into the black of the shirt. Blood.
"Stephen?" he says.
The boy, about to leave, halts and returns to Percy's side.
"My lord?" he asks. The honorific is still strange to hear, but Percy is getting worryingly used to it.
"There's blood on here."
"I'm sorry my lord, I'll go and fetch some new clothes and have these washed," says the boy.
He picks them up and turns to go, but that's not what Percy was asking. He grabs Stephen's arm, but in response the boy gasps in pain and the clothes slip to the floor in an untidy heap. In an instant, Stephen's wrenched his arm away and is on the floor, scooping them up.
"Stop," says Percy.
Stephen freezes, like a rabbit caught in headlights, torn between obeying his master and whatever secret it is he's keeping from Percy. Percy crouches next to him, and, taking him gently by the arm – careful to make it the upper part this time – he rolls back the shirt sleeve.
First, there's blood that's run down his arms, from which came the stain on the clothes.
Then he reaches the wound that caused the bleeding.
JACKSON
Percy gags.
Someone has taken the time to mark Stephen, and not with a brand – the word has literally been carved into the skin. The boy will carry Percy's name around on his arm in the form of scar tissue for the rest of his life. Percy looks up into Stephen's eyes, eyes a blue so impossibly deep and dark that they could be mistaken for black.
"I'm so sorry," he says, dumbstruck.
Stephen shakes his head, and picks the clothes up, saying "It's nothing, my lord." He leaves, and when he returns with fresh clothes, neither of them mention it. He's been totally broken by the titans.
Percy can understand that, because so has he.
Perses is on duty today, and a part of Percy is grateful that for the silence in which they walk to breakfast. The rest of him resents it, desperate to talk, either to express his rage or to take his mind off it.
Then Eos finds them.
She appears suddenly at Percy's side, and trails a finger across the back of his shoulders. "Hey, Percy," she purrs.
"My lady," he says. He has to be polite, after all.
"Have you reconsidered my offer?" she asks.
He swallows. "My answer's the same, my lady," he tells her, and it's impossible to miss the flash of anger in her eyes. Every time he rejects her seems to rouse some new fury in the titaness.
In an instant, she's at Perses' side, latching a hand around his biceps. "Hey, Percy."
The titan smirks, and though his response is, like Percy's, "My lady," there's a flirtatious edge to his voice that gives the words a different meaning. Though he plays it cool, Percy notices with surprise that there's a red tinge to his cheeks. Perses is blushing.
"What if I were to make you an offer, hmm?"
Percy wants to cringe at the words, which sound like they were ripped from the script of a bad sex comedy. Perses, though, doesn't seem to mind too much. He-
Oh gods. Titans. Whatever Percy's supposed to say now. He just growled. Percy wants to die of embarrassment, but before he can, he notices the two titans casting him resentful glances out of the corner of his eye.
"I wish I could," says Perses. "Maybe later."
"Well, whenever you're free," said Eos, whose method of letting go of his arm is by running her hand sensuously down its entire length. "The offer's open." For all the awkwardness of the situation, Percy can't seem to tear his eyes away as the titaness of dawn glides away down the corridor.
Perses coughs. "Come," he says, and Percy follows.
Breakfast passes smoothly, undisturbed by any arguments or the pressures of the outside world. Kronos signs death warrants while Perses lounges in his chair, and Percy quietly spoons cereal into his mouth, trying not to draw attention to himself by crunching too loudly.
"I still say you should execute him, brother," comes a voice. Percy doesn't react, knowing that they're talking about him, and that to respond will likely only make things more difficult for himself.
"Why is that, brother?" asks Kronos, and Percy risks a glance up, seeing that the new arrival is Oceanus. The titan of the sea is standing with his arms crossed, a contemptuous look on his face.
"Because he's more trouble than he's worth. We all know that he'll take the first chance he gets to escape, and until our hold is more secure, we can do without such irritations."
"You have raised this before, and I seem to remember telling you that there was nothing to worry about."
"Bro-" Oceanus hesitates, and, perhaps realising he is on thin ice, rephrases. "My lord, for as long as you remain in the mortal's body-"
"Hecate is working on it," said Kronos, sharply.
"Nevertheless, the boy will not stay here willingly."
"Perseus will not have the opportunity to take his leave of us."
"No prisoner is supposed to escape-"
"And this one shall not," hisses Kronos, on the verge of exploding. Percy feels like he's sitting next to a geyser. "I can only assume you have something else to say, or did you plan only on regurgitating concerns I have already dealt with?"
"I don't believe it is worth discussing our plans in front of the prisoner," says Oceanus, stiffly.
"Perhaps not, but despite his reputation for idiocy, Perseus has proven himself at least moderately bright during his stay here. He is aware of how we intend to use him, so you can speak freely."
Oceanus' jaw clenches visibly. "I think you overestimate his importance to the rebel cause," he said. "Seeing him surrender to you in New York and hearing that you commanded the mortals to worship him as one of us will have been a great blow to them, but I cannot imagine that there is any way left to hurt them. They will have disowned him and found a new leader to follow, and the only way left we can shock them is by killing him. They have seen everything else already."
Kronos runs an idle finger along Luke's scar, puzzling over the issue for a moment. "Perhaps for many of them, that is the case," he agrees, "but there are memory's inside this one's head… it is hard to explain such mortal feelings, but I will do my best. The fact is that the rebels knew Perseus. He was not just their leader; for many of them, he was their friend. To kill him makes him a martyr, makes him someone worth fighting and dying for again, but as long as he is here with us, he is simply another problem with which they will struggle as they try to wage a war they do not realise they have already lost."
Oceanus sighs. "People are not happy," he admits.
"People?" demands Kronos. "What do I care about people?"
"Titans aren't happy," clarifies Oceanus.
"And why aren't titans happy?" asks Kronos, prodding, probing, and, Percy suspects, trying to provoke Oceanus.
"They think it's unnecessary and that you're judging this poorly," says the other titan, shortly.
"They have never accused me of poor judgement before," Kronos says quietly.
Oceanus stays silent.
"Perhaps they think that being stuck in this mortal body is clouding my vision?" suggests Kronos.
"Perhaps," says Oceanus.
"Perhaps you would like to rule Othrys instead of me?" asks Kronos.
There is a long pause, during which Percy realises that he's been holding the same spoonful of cereal hovering over his bowl for the duration of the conversation. He eats it hastily, hoping neither titan noticed or took offence at his interest in the conversation.
Finally, Oceanus speaks again. "No," he says. "I would not want to rule Othrys."
"Good," says Kronos. "Then perhaps you could tell me why 'people' are unhappy?"
"They think that you're giving the demigod too much. You sit him on Rhea's throne, dress him in finery, and order the mortals to worship him. There are even rumours that you plan to have a temple built for him."
"If you had bothered to venture halfway down the mountain at any point over the last week or two, you would have seen that the temple's construction is already well under way. You think I should not?"
"I would prefer it if he was a prisoner," says Oceanus.
"He is a prisoner," points out Kronos.
"You know what I mean, brother. I would prefer to see him in chains, to see him defeated. Surely it damages the rebels' morale more to see the hero they all looked up to broken by the titan lord than to see him healthy and well-kept?"
"I would like that too," says Kronos, giving Percy an unsettling stare. "I look forward to the day when I will have him chained like an animal to the foot of my throne, begging with his eyes for scraps from my table. He'll be muzzled like a dangerous animal, to stop him from biting, and perhaps I will take him for walks around the mountain in my spare time. But if I were to do that now, it would make him as good as a martyr. He would become a rallying cry for them, a symbol of what they see as the tyranny of our rule. Humans will fight all the more strongly for something that has been taken from them, but for that thing to leave them of its own free will is more crushing than any defeat in battle. So, for as long as the Romans continue to hold us at bay, for as long as the rebels carry out their foolish guerilla war, he stays like this. Tell me again, how is it unnecessary?"
"Did he know of the Romans?" asks Oceanus, and certainly, that particular piece of information had caught Percy's attention.
Kronos, though, shrugs. "Does it matter? My question was how my treatment of Perseus is unnecessary."
Oceanus is silent, though the glimpses Percy sneaks out of the corner of his eye show the titan of the seas trying to find a way of disagreeing that isn't outright mutiny. He doesn't find one.
"Might I ask who exactly it is that has expressed… dissatisfaction?" asked Kronos.
"I have to insist that the demigod is not present for that conversation," said Oceanus.
Kronos nods. "Percy," he says, and Percy looks up before realising Perses is the one being addressed."Take Perseus somewhere else. Perhaps you should show him the temple being built in his honour, to remind him of all we are doing for him."
Perses nods, and Percy stuffs the last mouthfuls of his meals down before rising to follow the titan out. He knows far better than to try and eavesdrop.
The temple is a monster.
It's one of the largest on Othrys, and supposedly, twenty other buildings were demolished to make room for it. Percy doesn't ask where the occupants of those buildings are now. He knows that the titans could probably construct it more or less instantly with magic, but instead it's being built by hand, with hundreds of slaves labouring day and night to shift enormous blocks of stone into place. Looking at them, he wonders if this is how the Pharaohs felt seeing the pyramids built. From where he and Perses stand, they look like ants crawling over a lump of sugar.
"It is smaller than Kronos', of course," says Perses, conversationally.
"Of course," Percy agrees blandly.
"But apart from that, you'll have one of the largest temples on the mountain. I hear the mortals tremble at the mention of your name, now."
Percy looks down at some of the mortals in question. He doesn't feel all-powerful.
"Can we go for a closer look?" he asks. "I'd be interested to see how it's built," he says when Perses gives him a questioning look. Really, though, he feels he has a duty to the people building it. Some of them will die here, he's pretty sure. It's a massive, dangerous project, and he can't imagine the titans are particularly hot on health and safety regulations. Trying to learn some of their names is the least he can do.
"Sure," says Perses, and proceeds to remain exactly where he is, so Percy takes the lead and makes his way down the path towards the construction site.
The closer Percy gets, the larger the temple seems to grow. From further up the hill, it had seemed like only the foundations were complete, but up close he can see that the walls are dozens of feet high already. The workers part before them as they approach, bowing low, fear in their eyes. Percy wants to brandish his cuffs at them to scream that he's as much a slave to the titans as they are, but he knows that if he does anything which stands a genuine chance of damaging Kronos' plans for him, then his friends' lives are forfeit.
He realises that even the thing he came down here for – to talk to the workers, to learn the names of those who would die in his, is fruitless. What does it matter to them if he knows who they are? There is no-one left to argue against Kronos' version of events, and as far as they're concerned, he's an evil overlord who's more likely to have them executed than to say 'thank you'.
"Is someone in charge here?" he asks Perses.
The titan nods, and leads him past the huge altar being set up in front of the building, and into the inner sanctum, where a giant stands in the centre, shouting orders and abuse alternately at the workers hurrying around him. With him is a human-looking girl with a clipboard and pencil tucked behind her ear, standing, Percy can't help but notice, just out of reach of the giant's arms.
"How goes it?" asks Perses, and the two of them turn and kneel at the sight of the titan.
"My lords," says the giant. The girl stays silent, and Percy notices cuffs, similar to his own, on her wrists. His own have been disguised as decorative bracelets, but she has no façade of collaboration to keep up, and so they sit in plain sight. She's a demigod, or something else from the Greek world, and she has some kind of power the titans wish to suppress. She was a threat, and now she's a slave.
"Well, Perseus?" asks Perses, and Percy realises they're waiting for him to say something.
"How long will it take for the temple to be finished?" he asks. "Er, you can stand."
"We believe it should be up to two months for the main structure to be finished, my lord," says the giant, rising to his feet. "If you wish it, we can begin worship at that point, or we can wait until the decoration is finished, which might take another three, or perhaps four months."
"Right," says Percy. "That's good."
Is it good? He doesn't know. Is it better that it's finished quickly and the workers are safe, or will they simply be moved on to another, more dangerous project, dedicated to a titan who might kill half of them for being a minute late.
"Is it good?" asks Perses, but his tone suggests a different meaning to the question than the one in Percy's head. "That seems awfully slow to me."
"We are going as fast as we can, my lord," says the giant. "The humans are slow and weak, though. They struggle to raise the stone up, and the more you beat them, the weaker they become."
"I think this temple should be entirely completed in four months at the very latest," says Perses, "and if it is not, then there will be an opening for the position of supervisor."
"Yes, my lord," says the giant.
"As for your assistant," says Perses, looking at the girl, his gaze turning predatory, "I'm sure I can find a better use for her. As a bedwarmer, perhaps. That said, I'm beginning to think I shouldn't even wait." He reaches out and takes her chin in his hand, stroking it with his thumb. "What do you think, Perseus?"
There's a look of disgust in the girl's eyes, though she's trying desperately to keep a neutral expression. All of them know that she's vulnerable: if a titan wants her, she can't fight them off and no-one will stop them.
Except, perhaps, Percy.
"I don't know; I think kidnapping the staff might delay the temple construction a little," he says.
"It's not kidnap if I already own her," says Perses, a sentence which definitely ranks in the top three creepiest things anyone has said to Percy today. "Besides, what can she be doing that's so important?" There's a glint in his eye that's worryingly similar to Kronos, a glimpse of the same kind of deep-seated madness that the titan lord has.
"If she's here at all, it must be because she's doing something," begins Percy, but Perses cuts him off before he can go any further.
"Is she doing anything?" the titan asks the giant, who shifts nervously.
"Nothing that can't be done by another slave if you want this one, my lord," he says.
Perses grins and rests his hand on the girl's back. Percy notices her subconsciously lean away from the touch before catching herself. "That settles that, then," he says. "She's coming with me then. Of course, a mortal girl is unlikely to occupy me for long. If someone else were to make a claim on her, I would be unlikely to argue. I'd find some nymph more capable of keeping up with me. If no-one steps forward, though… I'll have fun tonight."
Percy doesn't exactly have any trouble seeing what Perses was doing. The girl will come with one of them, and if it's Perses, there's no question about what he'll do to her. If it's Percy, on the other hand, there's no question about what people will say he does to her. It's another titan ploy to tarnish him that little bit more in the eyes of the world, by making him choose between the girl's safety or his own reputation.
It's no kind of contest. "I'll have her," he says.
Perses' response is to shove the girl in Percy's direction, forcing him to catch her as she stumbles into him. "Have fun with her," he says. "We'll go and drop her off in your rooms for later." Then he turns to the giant. "I hope your replacement isn't as pretty as this one, otherwise you might find yourself short-staffed again," he says with a laugh that wouldn't be out of place in a horror movie.
The rest of Percy's day is, as always, exhausting. It's a whirlwind of events, sitting in on all the things the titans think he should be seen at, but which aren't important enough for him to actually learn anything of importance. There's a brief respite, when, wandering along the corridors of Othrys, he stumbles into a beautiful garden, bursting with colours, dazzling against the black of the rest of the palace. Perses hurries him out again, saying they need to be somewhere, and when Percy tries to find it again later, he gets hopelessly lost.
When evening comes, Percy tells Stephen to bring food for two to his chambers. He isn't sure how to explain that he's accidentally ended up with a concubine, so he pretends not to see the confused look on his slave's face. At this point, he has to wonder how much it really matters if one more person thinks the worst of him anyway.
The walk back to his chambers is a tense one, if only because he doesn't know what to say to the girl when he gets there. Perses' presence doesn't help either. The titan of destruction seems to have been brought to life by the prospect of sex, cracking crude jokes for the whole journey, before pushing Percy through the doors to his room with the command to "Have fun."
The girl is sitting on his bed in red and black lingerie, heavily made up, lipstick bright against the paler pink of her skin, and as he stumbles in, still off-balance from Perses' push, Percy instinctively averts his gaze, acutely aware of what is expected of him.
"Oh, hi," he says.
"My lord," is the answer he gets, delivered in a flat monotone.
"Do you have any, uh, clothes you could put on?" he asks.
"I was told they'd be brought in the morning," she says. Right. Of course. No-one expects them to have any need for clothes until then. He realises that either some one has told her to strip off like this, or she's chosen to do it herself in a bid to win his favour and make things easier for herself. He isn't sure which thought is worse. And he still doesn't know where to look.
Although it's Autumn by now – October, if he had to guess – the California days are still warm, and Percy's shirt stinks of sweat from the day spent traipsing over the mountain, so he can't exactly offer it to the girl. Instead, he goes over to the bed, sweeping up the covers. "Here," he says, laying them over her shoulders. She stares at the floor.
"What's your name?" he asks, taking a seat next to her.
"Eliza, my lord," she says, still not looking at him.
"Nice to meet you. I'm Percy." She doesn't reply to that, so he asks another question. "How old are you?"
"Fifteen." A couple of years younger than him, then.
"Where are you from, Eliza?"
"Washington."
"Is that Washington State or D.C.?"
"State."
"I've been there, once. It's a beautiful part of the world, even if I didn't exactly get the chance to admire the views while I was there. I'm from New York City. You ever been?" She looks at him properly for the first time as he's speaking, curious about where this is going, and he in turn finds himself propelling the conversation along, just doing what he can to keep it going and to put her at ease if he can.
"No, my lord."
"You don't need to call me 'my lord'," he says. "It's an incredible place. I've never seen anything like it. Othrys is a pretty busy place, but when people call New York the city that never sleeps, they're not exaggerating. Whatever time of day or night you're out, there's always something going on, something new to try or some new place to discover. Of course, it helps that my Mom lives – lived – there. It's home, I guess. The best place in New York, though, is a little outside the city – it's Montauk beach, up on Long Island. It's this beautiful stretch of sand that shows you every side of the ocean – sometimes it's wild and uncontrollable, sometimes it's calm and peaceful. Sometimes it's grey, and sometimes it's this amazing blue, brighter than you ever thought the sea could be outside of movies. It's-" he begins, but finds he's run out of things to say. "It's not very surprising for a son of Poseidon's favourite place, I guess."
They sit in silence for a moment while he tries to figure out where to go next, but to his surprise, it's the girl who breaks it.
"You sound like you miss it," she says.
He sighs. "Yeah. I do."
"If you don't mind me asking, my lord… why don't you just go back?"
He swallows. "It's complicated," he tells her, and is grateful to be spared having to explain more by Stephen opening the door, balancing two plates of food in his hands. As soon as the slave catches sight of the two of them there on the bed, though, he freezes. The plates wobble, but he's too well-trained to drop them. "Liz?" he asks.
There's a pause. "Steve?"
"What are you doing here?" he asks helplessly.
Percy can't help but register the way both their eyes keep flicking towards him, believing that they're unable to speak freely in front of him, before Eliza answers. "Lord Perseus took me from the construction crew on his temple," she says. "I… I suppose he felt he had more use for me here."
"My lord?" asks Stephen, looking over to him, eyes wide, horrified by the fate to which the girl on Percy's bed has already resigned herself.
"You two know each other?" asks Percy.
Stephen gapes, suddenly realising that admitting that to the titans might not be safe. "I – we-"
"He's my brother," Eliza cuts in. "My lord." She doesn't look up as Percy turns his head back towards her.
Percy stands and takes the plates from his slave, handing one of them to Eliza. "I'm not going to hurt your sister," he says. "You don't need to worry about her."
Stephen's eyes flick over to her again, and he clearly doesn't believe Percy, but both of them know that there's not exactly anything he can do.
"Perses will be suspicious if she leaves my rooms too soon," Percy explains, "but you should see if you can find a place for her with you, for the future." Stephen still looks hesitant, so Percy resorts to an outright order. "Stephen, go."
"You promise not to…" begins Stephen, but can't seem to get the words out. Maybe it's because he knows that if Percy truly wants something, he can do nothing to stop the son of Poseidon.
But Percy doesn't want what Stephen fears. "I promise," he says.
The boy nods, and leaves.
Another month passes. Percy continues to uneasily adapt to titan rule, reining himself in and staying out of the way.
At first, he makes Eliza spend a couple more nights with him to avoid arousing Perses's suspicion, which the two of them sleep through with their backs to each other. Sometimes he tries to make conversation, but while she doesn't outright ignore him, nor does she engage with him more than giving monosyllabic answers to his questions. Perses makes crude jokes about her, which Percy forces himself to laugh off. Fortunately, the titan spends the rest of the time his usual quiet and impassive self, except when Eos intercepts them and drapes herself over him, all the while smiling coyly over his shoulder at Percy. While the experience as a whole keeps Percy as on-edge as ever, he gradually stops sending for his slave, seeing that the titans are well occupied with other things.
Neither Stephen nor Eliza are comfortable with the arrangement – of course they aren't – but they seem to understand that Percy has their best interests at heart, even if he can't exactly explain the details of his relationship with the titans to them. At least, he hopes their acquiescence stems from trust rather than fear.
And then, one day, he and Perses stumble upon that small garden again, in no particular hurry this time, and he stops to admire it. The flowers give off a rich variety of aromas, and show off such a dazzling display of colours, that Percy can't help thinking that this is what freedom was like: the days before the titans. Freedom, as though responding to his summons, chooses that moment to reveal itself.
"Hi there, Percy," says Eos.
Percy and Perses both turn at the mention of their name, and both draw a sharp breath at the sight of the titaness of dawn, who is dressed provocatively in a translucent gown through which the lingerie beneath is visible.
Percy decides the best policy is a polite "My lady," and moves on through the garden, but Perses seems less set on ignoring the sight before his eyes. "Eos," he says, his voice hoarse, stepping towards her.
And then, suddenly, she is being borne past Percy in the titan of destruction's arms, leaning over his shoulder towards Percy: "Listen," she spits at him, disgust in her eyes.
And then the two of them are gone, and Percy cannot quite believe it. The simple fact that Perses is being lax is no great surprise, but the exact way in which his carelessness has manifested certainly is. It is as though the two titans, one ruled by his libido and the other going to extreme lengths in her attempts to make Percy jealous, have forgotten that he is supposed to be their prisoner. As though they have been taken in by their own propaganda.
Percy steps cautiously out into the hall, careful not to step too loudly on the black marble floor.
He looks to the left.
He looks to the right.
There is not a single guard in sight.
He realises that Perses' carelessness is not the golden opportunity it had seemed for a moment. The cuffs hidden on his wrists still make any kind of escape attempt impossible, but even so, he has a short amount of time in which he can roam freely throughout Othrys, unsupervised. Where does he need to go?
There are any number of places in this mountain the titans do not want him, and any number of prisoners he has to explain himself to. He scrolls mentally through the list, feeling helpless at the sheer quantity of names he is able to come up with.
But there is only one who might be able to give him any answers.
Nico's cell is dark and dingy, and Percy can't help but think that were he there by choice, the son of Hades might actually quite like it. As it is, his ankles are connected by a long, heavy chain to the wall, he is wearing similar cuffs to Percy's, and he looks utterly, utterly miserable. Not that that's any great difference from before they lost the war. As Percy enters, his eyes flick up towards the son of Poseidon and darken into a scowl.
"What do you want?" he asks.
"I need your help," says Percy.
"And why's that? You seem to have things set up quite nicely here."
Percy swallows. There's an ominous feeling in the pit of his stomach, but he has to see if Nico can help him. "I'm not what they're making me out to be," he tells Nico. "I'm still me."
"Forgive me if I'm a little sceptical, but I seem to remember that the last meeting we had involved Clarisse being beaten to a pulp, and since then the guards don't seem able to stop talking about how you're basically Kronos' second-in-command now. There's one telekhine that even thinks you're the power behind the throne, but the others shouted him down before he could say anything else. They reckon Kronos is too crafty to let some upstart demigod manipulate him. Me, I'm just sitting here knowing that I'm in a cell in chains while you're walking freely around Othrys."
"I wish," said Percy. "Look, they still have me in these cuffs." He lifts his arms to show Nico the black metal against his skin, and even now he can feel it leeching off him. It gets Nico's attention, for sure: the son of Hades pauses before speaking again.
"What is it you want, Percy?" he asks. "I can't imagine I can offer a lot of help to you from here."
It's an opening, at least, and Percy will take it gratefully. "I need a way to get these cuffs off. If I can at least use my powers, I'd stand a chance of getting people out, of starting some new resistance. They mentioned Romans or something, maybe they can help us. If you can tell me where my sword is or give me an escape route off the mountain, that would be great too, but it's worthless as long as these things are still on my wrists. I thought that… well, they're Stygian iron, right? I thought you might have an idea how to get them off."
Nico thinks, painfully slowly. Percy's expecting Perses to rocket around the door at any moment. "We don't have long," he says.
"How do I know this isn't some trick?" asks Nico.
"What could they gain by sending me here to ask how to get the cuffs off?" asks Percy.
Nico shrugs. "I don't know. He's called 'the Crooked One' for a reason, though."
"Don't be ridiculous," says Percy, but Nico shakes his head before the sentence is even finished.
"I'm not being ridiculous, though," he says. "Don't you understand what it's been like down here? I can't speak to anyone, and all the news I get from the outside world is what the guards give me with my bowl of water and crust of bread twice a day. Maybe you're what you say, but all I've got to compare it with is the news that thirty slaves have died building your temple and that you swore to tear out Zeus' throat with your bare hands if you ever had the chance. I don't know what's true anymore."
"Thirty-seven slaves," says Percy, quietly. "It was thirty-seven."
"I don't care how many, Percy. It doesn't matter. I'll need an oath."
"An oath?"
"That you are what you say. That you are who you say."
"I am, I swear it."
"On Styx, Percy. Swear that you haven't stopped fighting them every bit as hard as you were for the year we spent travelling across the country."
"I swear – I swear on the River Styx that…" the words seem to catch in his mouth. Can he, truthfully, make that oath? I want to say sorry to Annabeth are the words that immediately spring to the front of his mind for some reason, but they too are not what Nico wants to hear. "…that I don't want this to end with them winning," he finishes.
Nico raises an eyebrow at the change to the wording, but it seems to be enough. "I think I know how to get them off," he admits. "Stygian iron is used for the rarer, nastier forms of magic, but I think I've heard of this sort from some particularly old ghosts."
"Why haven't you got out already then?" asks Percy.
"The ritual needs two people," Nico tells him shortly. "And something sharp. You said you didn't have Riptide?"
"Or any other weapon."
"We can't get you out now then. You'll need to get something appropriate – anything will do, but a sword or dagger would be best – and then get here without picking up any titans on your way. I can't promise I'll be in any condition to shadow travel us away, so you'll need an alternative escape route too."
Percy nods. "I can manage that. Can you do it more than once? Kronos will start killing prisoners if I try to escape, and I don't want to leave anyone behind."
"Maybe," says Nico, not meeting his eyes. "Most of the prisoners don't actually have these. It's only demigods with significant powers, like us, or ones who are being made to work as slaves around the mountain who have them. They took Clarisse's off once she was safe inside her cell. But even if you can't get everyone out you have to make sure you're not recaptured."
"That's not imp-"
"It is important!" hisses Nico. "Don't you understand? It's why the titans are so desperate to hammer home that you're theirs now. You're the face of Olympus, for better or worse. We've fucked up too many times already, but if it happens again then this is over, then they have won. I know you have this hero complex where nobody gets left behind, but if you get captured then it doesn't matter, because everyone is as good as dead, inside Othrys or out of it. Okay? So if you want my help on this, then I want another oath on Styx: that you won't risk yourself for anyone else on the way out."
Percy hesitates, a long silence that seems to stretch out like elastic, ready to injure someone when it snaps back in.
It's Nico who breaks the tension. "I thought we didn't have long?" he says.
"Fine," snaps Percy. "I swear on the Styx not to take any unreasonable risks for anyone else on the way out."
"You're an idiot," mutters Nico, but there's a kind of wryness to it that Percy's pleased to notice. "Remember: a weapon and an escape plan. Now, get out of my cell before someone starts to suspect something."
"Thank you," says Percy. "I'll see you soon."
The cell door closes quietly behind him, and he returns the keys to the jailer, who is fortunately not important enough to know that Percy is not quite the collaborator the titan propaganda machine portrays him as. In the corridors of Othrys' prison level, the draughts seem to have come alive with excitement, with anticipation for what is to come, with dang-
His thoughts are unpleasantly interrupted by a meaty hand connecting suddenly with his face and sending him flying across the floor. His brain has barely processed the blow when he receives a kick to the ribs that sends him rolling again.
He struggles quickly to his feet and sees that his assailants are two titans: Menoetius and Lelantos. Neither one quite at Kronos' ear, but nevertheless dangerous opponents to have. And neither has made their displeasure at Percy's presence on Othrys hard to see.
"Let's not be hasty," he wheezes. "I'd hate to think you might kill me and then regret it later…"
Menoetius pulls out a spear and Lelantos draws a sword. "This is no mistake, sea scum," says the latter.
Percy takes a look at their weapons, takes into consideration his own distinct lack of the same, and comes to the conclusion that he is entirely screwed. Knowing that he stands no chance in a straight fight, he turns and sprints down the hall, hoping to find safety somewhere else in the mountain fortress.
The two titans shout angrily and pursue him. Lelantos especially turns out to be faster than Percy, but the demigod pulls vases and other ornaments down from the sides of the corridors into the titans' path to slow them down, as well as taking as many turns as possible to try and lose them or at least slow them down. He struggles up one staircase, then another, before realising that he has been gradually making his way to the throne room.
To Kronos.
It's all for nothing, though. He's barely halfway there when Lelantos catches him by the ankle, tripping him and sending him sprawling on the floor, which he skids along for several metres before slowing to a complete halt. He tries to rise to begin running again, but the titan pins him in place.
"Do you mind explaining your evil plan in great detail so I have time to plan another escape?" asks Percy.
"The plan is that you die, half-blood," says Menoetius, catching up with them. So much for them being too afraid of Kronos to actually try and kill Percy. Menoetius nods to Lelantos, who raises his sword.
"WHAT IS THIS?" comes a voice. It's deep, ancient, smooth, and unmistakable. Kronos stands there, in Luke's body, his scythe drawn.
"My lord -" begins Lelantos, but Kronos has no intention of hearing him out. He screams, a yell made of no words, just mindless fury. He swings the scythe at his nephew, who barely raises his sword in time to parry the blow. Menoetius, apparently accepting that they are now engaged in outright mutiny, leaps in with his spear to help his comrade, but Kronos handles him easily. The three titans duel there, over Percy, and while Kronos seems to have the upper hand, nor can he land a decisive blow.
Then, suddenly, Perses and Atlas come barrelling around the corner, followed by a host of other titans, the most Percy has seen in one place since his very first day on Othrys. Most simply stand and gawk, but Percy's two guards join Kronos' side in the duel, and the would-be assassins are overwhelmed and disarmed in moments.
"Chain them, guard them," orders Kronos. In a wave of his hand the scythe is gone, and he comes over to crouch by Percy. "How are you?" he asks, cupping the bruise forming on Percy's cheek where he was first struck.
"Alright," Percy manages to gasp out. "I'm alright." It's more or less true – he's hurting and shaking, but he thinks it's more from shock than anything else, and his wounds certainly aren't particularly serious.
"Here," says Kronos, offering his arm to help Percy up. And so the son of Poseidon finds himself staggering through the halls of Othrys, leaning on his grandfather for support. There are slaves and spirits along the way, trying and failing to look uninterested in their appearance, but Kronos dismisses them with a wave of his free hand.
Eventually, they are in an area where Percy has never been before: Kronos' private chambers. They're mostly bare, but what there is – a wardrobe, a huge bed with thick covers, among other things – is ornate and super-sized. Kronos lifts Percy easily onto the bed, where he lies motionless, uncertain what will happen next.
"Stay here," commands the titan king returning to the door. "There are matters with which I must deal."
Percy drifts off into a light sleep. The bed is possibly the comfiest he has ever experienced, and it's impossible to resist its call.
He doesn't know how long he's there for, but he's woken by Kronos' re-entrance. The titan is moving sluggishly, swaying from side to side, a sour expression on his face. When he leans down close to Percy, the smell of alcohol permeates his breath.
"They thought they had a right to you," says Kronos. Percy doesn't answer: his throat is seizing up in panic.
"They thought they could take your life, just because they wanted," says Kronos, reaching around to hold Percy by the back of his neck. "They need to be taught a lesson."
Percy might agree with that, except there's a strange look on Kronos' face, and a drunk titan is even more unpredictable than usual.
"I'll show them who you belong to," says Kronos. "I'll show you who you belong to…" His arms slide down the demigod's body and start fumbling with Percy's belt.
"No," utters Percy, trying to twist away, trying to writhe out of the titan's grasp. Kronos, though, is not drunk enough for it to be possible. He pins Percy down, pushing him into the covers with one hand and undoing the buttons on the boy's trousers with the other.
"You're mine," says Kronos. "All mine. No-one else's, no-one else's. I own you, Jackson. Everything you are, forever and always." He chuckles. "For better and for worse, in sickness and in health, 'till death do us… no, that's not right. Titans don't die." He chuckles again, pulling Percy's trousers down and dragging his body over the son of Poseidon to pin him down with his body weight as he turns his attention to his own garments.
Percy is still hopelessly trying to wriggle free, but the titan is far too heavy for that, and he can feel the hardness against his thigh, feels Kronos shifting and placing hands on his hips to try and find a better angle, then -
The door swings open. "My lord!" says Atlas.
Kronos is up with a shout of "WHAT?", his dick flailing comically in the air and his eyes blazing with fury, but all Percy can think is thank the gods that the titan's off him. He gulps in huge breaths of air, finally able to breathe again.
"My lord, two prisoners have escaped," says Atlas.
"What do I care about two prisoners?" demands Kronos.
Atlas hesitates, and Kronos seems to notice something in the other titan's demeanour. "Which two prisoners?" he asks slowly.
"Two demigods," says Atlas. "A son of Athena and a daughter of Ares: Malcolm Pace and Clarisse la Rue."
So, titan rule is basically built around sexual dominance and threat - I'm not sure how that happened, but oh well. Probably something Freud would be interested by in my subconscious. I should reassure you that this is as bad as it will get in the story. I feel it warrants an M rating, but I hope none of you are too traumatised by the experience.
What you might be traumatised by, though, is the amount of time you waited for this chapter. Sorry about that.
Thanks very much as always to my golden set of reviewers:
To Quihi, I'm really glad you liked the inclusion of Peleus. I always felt he was severely underused in the books - I mean, they have a literal flying, fire-breathing dragon, and he gets about three mentions across the whole series? What a waste. As far as Philip's concerned, I honestly don't think it occurred to me that his intentions might be in doubt. That's kind of a shame, as I missed an opportunity to mess with my readers' heads and emotions - but then again, this story probably has enough ups and downs anyway, so maybe it's not such a bad thing!
To ShadowsClaw, I'm glad that you're enjoying the story, (at least, I hope you still are after this chapter) and I'm even gladder that you haven't been holding your breath since... *checks watch* *checks phone* *checks calendar* *checks constellations and planetary positions* ... December. Since December. That's... well, you made a good decision in not holding your breath. Well done.
To AnnaUnicorn, I'm glad you agree with me that shooting people is the ultimate romantic gesture! And while I'm sorry not to provide any this time around, I'm sure I can fit in some Percabeth fluff in the next chapter.
And to aRTsyisAwesome, (wow, that's some name to have to type) thank you very much for your enthusiastic review! As far as distinguishing between 'past' Percy and 'present' Percy goes, I think that I'm far enough in that it's just too much hassle to go back and change at this point, and hopefully the regular alternation between the two and the changes in tense are enough to make it clear - but it's something I'll bear in mind in case I ever mess around with time again in future stories! I'm also glad (yes, 'glad' again. Hey, there are only so many words in the English language I can use to say I'm happy) that you though I managed to convey some sparks with Kronos, as I was kind of going for that - but I also hope I managed to convey in this chapter how that would be a Very Bad Thing! I should reassure you that while Percy is still stuck in Othrys, the wheels are in motion and things are going to get a little more exciting in the titan HQ from now on.
Finally, to Marco, who said he hated this story because Percy is a weak slave - well first off that's a great shame and I'm sorry you wasted your time reading all 45,000 words of it before deciding you didn't like it. Personally, though, I do feel like Percy's concern for his friends justifies his co-operation with the titans for now, if not indefinitely. Having said that, on the off-chance that you are still reading this, I should point out to you too that there are wheels in motion and things will not always be as they are now.
Lastly I should say that the final 3000 words or so of this are pretty much unedited, so sorry about any mistakes there.
And that's that. Until next time, amigos, when we will be catching up with some demigods on the run.
-IADJB