All the reviews have popped up now, so I've hopefully responded to them all! ^_^
To Anonymous Person- I did do a one-shot where Jason and Piper had kids, this was like when HoO was still coming out :P I may try and spin out some stuff for Jason being alive in the future, but I shall see what happens. I need to finish this and Lou's Past first :O
To 8Ball3- (Chapter 7) Giraffes have blue tongues XD And yes, yes he is, although I would have gone with butthead or assface. (Chapter 8) You lot like shipping people, don't you? *thinky face* And is that on here, that story? Ya'll making my reading list hella long D:
To someone- (Chapter 6) Lavinia won't get fired as long as she watches Ninja Turtles ^_^ (Chapter 7) There's a long list of people waiting to kill Lou, they'll have to get in line :P And yes, his inner bastard his slowly becoming more outer. Lou's a bad influence on him.
To Guest- (Chapter 4) I may do it as a one shot. Maybe.
If I missed anyone, let me know! I hate that this website just hides the reviews every so often, it's just rude! Also, there's a scene in this one that I've been waiting to show you lot XD
The legion sentries saw the group from a long way off, as they should have done. By the time they arrived at the fort's main gates, a crowd had assembled. Demigods lined either side of the street and watched with a curious silence as the group passed them. Louisa was still held up between Hazel and Lavinia, head bowed, strangely quiet. No-one asked any questions. No-one stopped them.
Hazel led them straight down the Via Praetoria.
Some legionnaires stood on the porches of their barracks. Armour sat forgotten, half-polished. Guitars set aside. Card games unfinished. Glowing purple Lares milled about, drifting through walls and even people.
Apollo looked around, taking in the ragged faces. The camp seemed… not deserted exactly, but half full. A handful walked on crutches. Some had their arms in casts. Apollo played with the notion that the rest of the crowd were in their barracks or in the sick bay or on an extended march. The grief-stricken expression of the legionnaires did nothing to reassure him. He recalled the gloating words of the eurynomos at Lake Temescal- I HAVE ALREADY TASTED THE FLESH OF YOUR COMRADES! AT THE BLOOD MOON, YOU WILL JOIN THEM.
Lunar things were more Artemis' department, but Apollo didn't like the sound of it. He had had quite enough of blood. From the looks of the legionnaires, so had they.
Another of the ghoul's lines came to mind- YOU WILL ALL JOIN THE KING'S DEAD. The words of the prophecy from the Burning Maze bounced around in Apollo's head. A troubling realisation began to bloom. He did his best to quiet it- today's quota of terror was already overflowing.
They passed storefronts of merchants allowed to operate within the fort's walls. A chariot dealership, an armoury, a gladiator supply store and a coffee bar. In front of this last one, a two-headed barista glowered at them from both faces, green apron stained with latte foam.
They reached the main intersection. Two roads came to a T in front of the principia. On the steps of the gleaming white headquarters building, the praetors waited for them. Apollo almost didn't recognise Frank Zhang. The first time he had seen him, back when he still had his immortality, he was a legion newbie, baby-faced, heavy-set with dark flat-top hair and an adorable fixation on archery. He had prayed to Apollo all the time, hoping he was his father. Apollo would have been happy to adopt him, but he was one of Mars's kids.
The second time Apollo saw him, Frank had had a growth spurt, suddenly and inexplicably taller and stronger, more imposing, but in a cute cuddly grizzly-bear kind of way. Now, his weight had begun to catch up to his growth spurt. He was once again a big girthy guy with baby cheeks one just wanted to pinch and coo, yet he still retained his height and muscle. It seemed he had fallen out of bed and scrambled to meet them, despite the early evening. His hair stuck up on top, a jean cuff was tucked into a sock. He wore a yellow silk nightshirt decorated with eagles and bears and then his purple praetor's cloak over it. One thing had stayed the same about him- that slightly awkward stance, a constant, faint perplexed frown as if constantly thinking am I really supposed to be here?
Not since Julius Caesar had a Roman officer risen so quickly and brightly.
Apollo's gaze drifted to the young woman beside him. A bowling ball of panic thumped onto his heart and spiralled into his lower intestines. He was quite glad not to be supporting Louisa- he definitely would have dropped her.
The only way he could explain it was something akin to an experience so painful or embarrassing, it was impossible to forget. His mind was trying to scuttle away from the memory once again, squeaking nope nope nope as it did so.
That was how he was with Reyna Ramírez-Arellano. Yes, he knew who she was, most familiar with her name and reputation. He was fully aware they were set to run into her at Camp Jupiter, the Burning Maze's prophecy had told as much.
His silly mortal brain had failed to make the connection between this Reyna and that Reyna he had once been shown by a certain annoying love goddess. It had also failed to tally up all the comments about her since Louisa showed up- Reyna wanting to kill Louisa for running off and doing something stupid, Reyna being the praetor, Louisa being the praetor's girlfriend, etc. etc. etc. Ooh, how he hated his brain.
That's her! His brain screamed, painfully aware he stood in his flabby, acne-riddled mortal form and clutching a bloody dress to his gut. Oh wow, she's beautiful!
Now you recognise her? He mentally chided. Now you want to talk about her? Can't you please forget again?
But, like, remember what Venus said? His brain persisted. You're supposed to stay away from Reyna or-
Yes, I remember! Shut up!
Reyna was indeed beautiful and imposing, if a little distracted. Her attention was locked on the trio at the front, particularly the girl in the middle. Her expression was perfectly composed, but her eyes blazed with a fury that made Apollo want to run and hide, and it wasn't even aimed at him. Unlike Frank, she was armoured up with military medals on her chest and gold fibres glittering in her purple cloak. Her dark braid swept over her shoulder.
Apollo managed to pull his gaze from her, face burning with humiliation. The ringing of the others gods' laughter echoed in his ears, alongside Venus's proclamation to him, dire warnings if he should ever dare-
PING! Lavinia's manubalista startled him with a sudden decision to crank itself another half-notch, mercifully diverting everyone's attention to her.
"Uh, s-so," she stammered, "we were on duty when I saw this car go flying over the guardrail and-" Reyna raised her hand for silence. Even those in the crowd not making any noise were suddenly quieter.
"Centurion Levesque." Reyna's tone was guarded, weary. "Your report, please."
"Praetors," she said, "we rescued these travellers at the borders of camp. This is Meg."
"Hi." Meg waved. "Is there a bathroom? I need to pee." Hazel blinked, thrown for a moment.
"Er, in a sec, Meg. And this…" She hesitated, fingers curling at her chest nervously. "This is Apollo." The crowd murmured uneasily. Apollo caught snatches of their conversations-
Did she say-?
Not actually-?
Dude, obviously not.
Named after…
In his dreams!
"Settle down." Frank ordered, pulling his purple mantle tighter around his pyjama top. He looked at Apollo, searching for a sign that this was in fact the Apollo he prayed to, always admired. He blinked as if the concept had sparked fuses in his brain. "Hazel," he eventually said, "can you… explain that? And, uh…" He glanced at Reyna carefully. Biting his lip, he simply pointed at Louisa.
Hazel locked her golden eyes on Apollo, sending him a silent command.
Apollo froze. He didn't know how to start. He was no great orator like Julius or Cicero. Not a weaver of tales like Hermes. How could he explain the many months of horrifying ordeals that had led to Meg and him standing here with a wayward legionnaire, a glittering-quartz-coated centurion, a jumpy faun and Louisa, who would most definitely be face-down on the ground if not for Hazel and Lavinia.
His gaze drifted down to the ukulele. He thought of Piper aboard Caligula's yachts, how she had burst into song of 'Life of Illusion' amongst a gang of hardened mercenaries. She had rendered them helpless and emotional wrecks, enchanted by her serenade of melancholy and regret. He was not a charmspeaker like her, but he was a musician.
After what happened with the eurynomoi, he felt skittish about the ukulele. His vocal cords tuned into a cappella.
The first few bars, his voice quavered. He had no idea what he was doing. The words simply flowed from deep inside him, like the clouds of debris from Hazel's collapsed tunnel. He sang of his fall from Olympus, landing in New York and becoming bound to Meg McCaffrey. He sang of their time at the Greek camp, their discovery of the Triumvirate's plot to control the great Oracles and consequently the future of the world. He sang of Meg's childhood, her terrible years of mental abuse in Nero's household and of how they had finally pushed the emperor from the Grove of Dodona. Of the battle against Commodus at the Waystation in Indianapolis, how Louisa had stomped and kicked and stabbed for every name of fallen demigods upon the return of her memories. He went on to sing of their harrowing journey into Caligula's Burning Maze, freeing the Sibyl of Erythraea.
He punctuated each chorus with Jason's work for Temple Hill, how close he had come to sacrificing himself so they could escape, so Piper would live. He sang of Louisa's rescue and her father's warning of the Fates' anger. At these words, a furious crimson pressed on Reyna's cheekbones, but she still said nothing.
He wasn't sure how long he sang. His throat was as hot and dry as a spent bullet cartridge. Giant eagles had gathered on the nearby rooftops, staring at him with something like respect. Stunned, tearful faces surrounded him, at everything they lost and everything they could have lost. Some sniffed and wiped their noses. Others embraced and wept silently. The song had unleashed their collective grief from the recent battle, losses unnumbered and too many.
Apollo looked to the praetors. They stared at him, in differing stages of comprehension. Reyna took a shaky breath, touching her face tentatively, as though warding off a headache. Frank watched her carefully.
Reyna lowered her hand, her composure resettling. She took a step down. The assembled demigods took a step back. She marched forward, eyes ahead. Her face was regal, fearsome, powerful. Apollo had to look away, face burning.
Louisa looked up, head wobbling as if it had become too heavy, tipping back, onto her shoulder and then forward. Reyna stopped, straightening her cloak. She stretched her hand out, pressing her fingertips to Louisa's forehead and lifting her head to meet her eye.
"Are you OK?" She asked. Louisa managed to keep her head up by herself, mustering an exhausted smile.
"'M just peachy, Rey-Rey."
"Mm." Reyna agreed, lowering her hand. For a moment, she and Louisa stared at each other, their expressions at odds- one stony and in control, the other contorting between a grimace and a grin.
Then Reyna drew back her fist. Apollo flinched, missing the impact of the punch, but opening his eyes in time to see Louisa land flat on her back. Her hands covered her face, a loud groan emitting from behind her palms. She kicked her feet in protest, swearing profusely. Reyna laughed, without humour, her temper boiling over. "Oh!" She cackled furiously. "You're swearing at me?!" She demanded. "You're swearing at me?!" Her voice grew louder with each word and she stomped a circle around Louisa, glaring down at her from every angle. "How am I supposed to keep you alive if you keep disappearing?" Reyna kicked her in the leg. Louisa lowered her hands, clenching them into fists defensively. Blood stained her face, spilling between her fingers. "No! Don't give me that look, you bastard!" Reyna kicked her again.
"Savin' Grace!" Louisa protested groggily, smacking away another kick. She rolled onto her side, wiping her nose on her sleeve. "Had to!" She pressed on, pushing herself up. She staggered to one side, falling over again, arms flailing. Reyna followed her, hands on her hips.
"What is wrong with you? Why do you always do this?!"
"Had to save Jay! Can't… can't lose Jay…" Louisa's voice lost its edge. Her arms trembled as she tried to push herself up again. Blood streamed from her nose, her eyes watered. She hadn't look well since she saved them, since she woke up on the plane. Now, Apollo didn't see how it was possible she could look worse, but she did. Paler than a sheet, sickly and gasping for air, stained with blood and tunnel debris, her whole body shaking. She raised her head, squinting up at Reyna. The praetor stared down at her. Some sort of conversation passed between them.
Reyna sighed. She reached down, grabbing Louisa by the elbow and yanking her to her feet. She touched her face, brushing her thumb over her bloodied cheek. Louisa sniffed, pressing her cheek into Reyna's palm. "'M sorry, Rey."
"No, you're not."
"I'd do it again."
"I know you will." Reyna shook her head. "Leave a note next time, OK?" Louisa coughed a laugh, a feeble smile appearing. Reyna squished Louisa's face between her hands, brow creasing. "What am I going to do with you?"
"I dunno. Dinner? I'm gonna nap now." Louisa decided. Her head tipped forward and she began to snore on Reyna's shoulder.
"I was thinking more like a shrink." Reyna said, tucking one arm around Louisa's shoulders and the other under her legs. "Leona!"
"Here, praetor!" Leona waved. Apollo saw a bag slung over her shoulder, the red cross of a medic stitched on the front. Reyna nodded at her, frowning down at Louisa.
"Help me drown her."
"Thought you'd never ask." Leona grinned crookedly. Reyna turned to Frank.
"It's OK." He smiled, relieved his co-praetor hadn't actually committed a murder. "You look after Lou. I can manage things here."
"Thank you."
Apollo wasn't sure what to make of that relationship. He still couldn't believe this was the Reyna he was supposed to avoid- why tell him that if she already had a girlfriend?
Rather than puzzle for an answer, his wounded gut burned- ironically- like a small sun. He chose that moment to pass out.