Thalia clutches her head tightly, black strands of hair sticking off of her head haphazardly.
"So… you're telling me that for the past fuck how many years I have been a fucking tree?" Thalia has asked this question several times now, but for some reason it still has yet to sink in.
"Yes, and you have been the barrier for Camp Half-Blood." A petite raven haired male answers her. Hadrian, she reminds herself.
Digging the heels of her palms into her electric blue eyes, Thalia looks at the group assembled.
Charon, who is the head of the camp, is standing beside Mr. D, who is actually Dionysius, the god of wine. Sitting on the bed opposite of her is Percy and Hadrian, both of whom helped carry her back to the Big House and the infirmary. Sitting on the edge of her bed is Annabeth, who is no longer a little midget but now a grown teenager. And standing nervously in a corner chewing on his lip is Grover.
"And the Golden Fleece brought me back to life?" She reiterates. Just you know, to be sure. She still isn't wholly convinced that this is not just some dream she conjured up.
Annabeth, who has been strangely quiet, slowly reaches forward and places a hand over Thalia's own. "Yes, we went and retrieved the Fleece because your tree was poisoned in the attack from the bull. However, we never knew that it could bring you back to life." Her blue eyes fill with tears and she engulfs the black haired girl in a hug. "But I am so glad it did. I have missed you so much."
Thalia gives the gathered people a desperate look, not knowing what to do with a crying teenager. She only gets shrugs in return.
Zeus sits slumped over in his throne, a large glass of white wine dangling loosely between his tanned and weathered fingered tips. Electric blue eyes gaze despondently into the swirling liquid, the god of thunder lost deeply in his thoughts.
When Zeus had first met Hadrian he had felt an instant connection to the much younger god, a sort of protectiveness and love he had not felt in regards towards the other gods; not even his own immortal children. It was this connection that had planted the seeds for their relationship. A beautiful relationship that bloomed brighter than any flower in Demeter's garden.
The two gods shared many things together; stories of the Dark Times (which Zeus aptly named the times the Titans ruled), stories of love, hope, battle, laughter. And as their bond grew closer, and Zeus truly saw Hadrian as the blooded nephew he was, Zeus confided in him his darkest secret.
His one true regret.
Thalia.
Zeus truly loved his little bundle of chaos. She was a spitfire. She was as untamed and uncontrollable as a lightning storm. Her ebony hair and electric blue eyes, so like his own, sparkled with determination and will to prove themselves. The King of the gods wanted for his demigod daughter what he had never wished for a half-mortal before. A life filled with love.
So when Hades had wrathfully pursued her, and almost struck a mortal blow, Zeus had called upon the pinnacle of his powers to preserve her life into that of a tree. He took her powerful will to protect others and manipulated it so that demigods would have one single safe spot; even if everywhere else wanted them dead.
After this was done, Zeus called upon his nephew Hadrian and told him the story. Told him of Thalia's bravery in the face of danger and death. Spoke greatly of her courage, and how he honored her. And then he cried on his favored nephew's shoulder.
Hadrian vowed to do whatever he could to protect Thalia's tree, to honor her last wish.
And now, the littlest god has brought his youngest child back to life.
Unbidden, tears begin to flow down wind chapped cheeks, lightly landing against the golden floor of the Throne Room.
Electric blue eyes gaze softly into their mirrored reflection in the small pool of whine. Lifting his cup, the god of thunder smiles genuinely.
"Here's to you, my favored nephew."
Sally hums happily as she plucks a few straw weeds from her garden. Leaning back against the thighs, she admires her handy work. A barrage of colors greet her retinas.
Really, since she was abducted by Hades last summer, the gods have gone above and beyond in trying to spoil her.
After Percy and Hadrian had left Hades castle, Hecate had come and generously offered to take the middle aged woman home. Not wanting to offend the goddess, and not having any other way of getting out of the Underworld, she had accepted. Though imagine her shock when she appeared in a modest two story house instead of her small apartment.
At first she had tried to refuse the generous gift, but after it was explained to her that the mother-in-law to a god could not be seen living in such a place, she graciously accepted. And ever since then she was living a life of luxury.
To her at least.
Her garden was beautiful. And she honestly did not know if that had more of the fact to do with her own handiwork, or Persephone's influence.
Smiling at the thought of the dark haired goddess, Sally wipes away the sweat that had managed to gather at her brow.
She really does love the trio of godly beings. They were adorable in their own way. From Hades' pouting, yet somehow serious, face, to Persephone's mischievously innocent smile, and even Hecate's glowing knowing eyes.
She was glad that they were a part of her new family. And with the delicate little Hadrian standing beside her son, she knew she would never have to worry about Percy again.
Though she might have to worry about Hadrian. Percy has a way of attracting trouble.
There are certain days when Hades knows that he should have stayed in bed. It was a gut feeling. And maybe, just maybe, a godly power as well.
On those days, something always goes wrong. His wardrobe is dyed pink, his new three headed guard dog is named Spot of all things (he is forever grateful that it is in Greek so no one usually makes the connection), his Helm is transfigured into a tiara, and the list goes on and on.
And today just so happens to be one of those days.
"Brother, to what do I owe the pleasure?" Hades sarcastically drawls, his long elegant fingers stroking a new gem he had found.
Poseidon walks, or should he say stalks, forward. The sound of crashing waves and roaring water crashing in the distance. "You should know why I am here brother."
Hades cocks his head to the side, ebony locks moving with the motion. "I can assure you I most certainly do not. Care to enlighten me?"
Poseidon's grip on his Trident flexes, his tanned knuckles bleaching white.
"What do you want with Sally?" He bites out, the words looking as if they pain him.
The Lord of the Dead crosses his fingers in front of him, his black eyes narrowed in curiosity. "She is the mother of my son's mate." Hades answers simply, curiously eyeing the twitch near Poseidon's right temple.
Biceps clenching, Poseidon breathes in deeply in an attempt to calm himself. "That is not what I meant and you know it." Sea foam eyes spit fire at the other god. "Her house is being guarded. And it reeks of your magic, as well as Hecate's and Persephone's. I know that no other god would go out of their way for a mortal. So I ask again. What do you want with Sally?"
Hades raises from his Throne of Bones, his back robes billowing around him in an impressive display. "Ah but dear brother, that is for us to know, and for you to find out."
The last thing Poseidon saw before he was kicked out of Hades' realm was smirking black eyes.
Hadrian meets each thrust of Percy's with one of his own. Every time Percy moves, Hadrian's lithe body moves with him. Percy is already sweating, his breath coming out in quick pants, his body trembling and shaking slightly, but Hadrian is still feeling like he did when they began.
"Hadrian." Percy pants, "How are you so good at this?"
Hadrian's tri colored emerald eyes lock onto Percy's own sea foam green, "Lots and lots of practice."
They continue on in this vain for what felt like hours, until the trembling in Percy's body becomes too much, and his thrusts become too erratic. "I can't go on much longer."
Hadrian, who is still feeling no strain, nods his head to show his understanding. "Then let's reach the final point?"
Percy, too tired to saying anything else, thrusts one more time before collapsing, tired and sweaty.
Hadrian kneels next to his mate in concern. "No more three hour long sword practices, okay?"
Rolling onto his back, Percy caps Riptide and sticks the blade into his pocket, "Ung."
Hadrian laughs.