To answer one question, Diana is older than Pollux and Castor.
There will be a small time skip in the next chapter. Nothing big, just a few months, but hopefully it will make the story slightly more interesting.
I have once again published a few new stories. Two of them are Self-Inserts into either Vampire Knight or Tokyo Ghoul. The last one is a drabble Bleach story about Orihime and Ulquiorra. If you like one of those fandoms, then you should try them out.
I have also decided to answer some of the question you might have in the next chapter, so write them in a PM or leave a review if you haven't yet.
Summary: Amelia Babineaux died in a sea of wine, as a daughter of Dionysus she lived again. Self-Insert/OC-Insert
Have fun.
Chapter 5
Looking Too Closely
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Where She Came Across The Truth
"You cannot swim for new horizons until you have courage to lose sight of the shore."
― William Faulkner
Edited on the 8th of July 2017. Chapter Five and Six have been put together.
A mild breeze flitted in through the open window and caressed Diana's cheeks. It carried the smell of strawberries and grapes and tickled her nose pleasantly. Appearing in soft hues of orange and pink, the sunlight shone behind her closed eyes and signaled the time of the day. Her skin was pleasantly warmed by its rays and one of her tiny hands reached out for more contact with them.
Sleepily, Diana opened her violet orbs and gazed around the room she was currently occupying.
The walls had a light lavender color and she seemed to be laying in a white crib. There wasn't much else she could see with her crippled sight, so she used her other senses to explore her surroundings.
Childish laughter and shrieks entered the room from the outside. Diana could also hear the clangs of metal and a pleasant melody being played by some kind of instrument.
It felt as if an eternity had passed since she could last listen to something without feeling as if her head might explode from sheer pain. Her nose wasn't stuffy anymore either, so she could smell the different scents surrounding her. The smell of strawberries and grape was the most dominant one, but there also seemed to be the fragrance of some flowers and the enjoyable hint of a nice summer day at a beach. Almost hidden by all those scents was the whiff of sweat, blood and steel.
Reaching out with her left hand, she first felt the silk used to cover her tiny body, then the wood of her crib. Diana was surprised to come in touch with what seemed to be a plant and as she squinted her eyes the girl realized that vines were winding themselves around her crib.
Blinking lazily, the girl-turned-infant looked up at the white ceiling of her room and realized that for the first time since she had entered this new life she actually felt good. No headache. No stuffy nose. No feelings of freezing or burning up.
Diana felt truly great.
That is until she remembered the frightening realization that had haunted her mind before she had succumbed to the healing darkness.
Gods. Chiron. Dionysus.
Camp Half-Blood.
Was this some kind of joke? Could something like this be real?
The truth was that after everything that had happened in the last few days, it wasn't hard for her to believe this whole craziness.
Diana, whom had been known as Amelia Babineaux less than a week ago, knew better than to doubt what was directly in front of her. After waking up in the body of an infant, finding herself in a fictional universe did not seem too impossible anymore.
Percy Jackson
Not the best place she could have ended up in, but not the worst either. She could have been reborn in a world like Attack on Titan or Naruto. Compared to those two Camp Half-Blood did not seem so bad.
Besides, it could still turn out that Diana had misheard something and that her conclusion was as far as possible from the actual truth. As open-minded as she was, the girl would still wait for some proof before she started panicking.
For now, Diana would just take another nap. And if she was lucky, she would wake up in Amelia's bed.
The next time she woke up it definitely wasn't in Amelia's bed, but neither was it inside the crib she had observed the last time she was conscious.
Her first instinct was to panic and start trying to move. The fact that she was an infant limited that movement and made her remember the hopelessness she felt alone in the dark and cold streets of Reykjavik.
Her arms moved left and right, hitting the body of the person that was holding her tightly in its arms. Teary eyes opened widely, perceived what looked like a man's chest garbed in a violet shirt and looked up to see the face of another stranger. A whimper passed her lips and she kicked with her tiny feet in all directions.
Why was this constantly happening to her? Why couldn't she just wake up in a familiar bed without a stranger hovering over her?
Unfazed, the man holding Diana tightly to his chest started rocking her up and down. Though the action was meant to be soothing, it did nothing to calm her down. For a moment Diana truly appreciated that the headache was gone. She would not have liked to go through an experience similar to running through the forest with the first stranger.
A small cry echoed through the room as the first tears fell from her violet eyes. Abruptly, the man stopped moving her and slowly walked in the direction of a chair shaped object. He sat down and adjusted his hold on Diana.
Another cry grated at both of their ears and the man positioned her slightly higher, so that her ear was above his heart. Its regular beat was slow and oddly familiar.
''Now, now, there's no need for you to cry, little Diana.'' The voice belonged undoubtedly to a man. It was deep, soothing—almost melodic—and the only thing that actually stopped her form throwing a tantrum that would have been louder than the explosion of a giant bomb. Within seconds his voice managed to calm Diana's inner turmoil and that scared her.
Who was this man and what did he want from her? Why was he holding her so gently? How come that his voice and presence made her feel so safe?
Holding her with one arm, he used his left hand to brush some tears off her flushed cheeks. ''Don't cry. No one can hurt you as long as I'm here, my sweet child.''
'My sweet child'? Diana's large eyes stared at the foreign man in wonder. Was this her supposed father?
She had expected many things of the man that sired her new body, but somehow none of her expectations were fulfilled by the stranger who was currently holding her.
As he adjusted a blanket around her Diana observed the man who claimed to be her father. Through her blurry sight she saw a mop of dark hair and tanned skin. From the sound of his voice she guessed that he was about thirty years old.
That was all she currently knew about her new 'father'.
A hand stroked her head softly and she tried to focus her gaze where she thought his eyes would be. ''Now, that's better, hmm? There is no need for you to worry, I'll take care of everything.''
What did he need to take care of? It did not sound as if he just meant her.
Irritated that she could not ask for clarification, Diana jerked in surprise when she realized that they were occupying a rocking chair. Even more irritation welled up inside her once she heard the man chuckle at her wide eyed expression. In response she pursed her lips and tried to give him her most convincing glare.
The following chuckles made her doubt its effectiveness.
Had it not been for the sudden warmth that filled her whole body from head to toe, Diana might have thrown a tantrum as a childish retribution. However, it never came to it because along with her supposed father's chuckles came a rather peculiar feeling. The girl did not really know how else to describe what she felt. The air around her just seemed to become thicker, but not in a oppressive way. It caressed her skin and filled her with a curious happiness.
Her limbs felt lighter than ever and once again Diana was surrounded by the smell of wine. Unexpectedly, it did not cause any flashbacks or discomfort.
There was something else there as well. Restrained and kept as far away from her as possible. Silently, almost as if they weren't there, she could hear the loud shrieks of men and woman, their loud laughter and manic cries.
They were easily overpowered by the soft sounds of music and the smell of a grape garden.
''It seems that I'll have to be careful around you, my sweet daughter. So young, yet so sensitive.'' There was no sense in denying his identity anymore, though Diana still preferred to think that whatever she was currently experiencing was just a figment of her imagination. After all, Greek gods and monster couldn't be real, could they?
It wasn't easy to believe a lie such as she was trying to tell herself while feeling that oppressive power that surrounded her like a blanket. Diana knew that it could squash her as if she were a meaningless bug, choke her until there was no air left in her lungs and kill her before she could even try fighting it.
And though she knew all that, the girl turned infant gurgled happily as she felt it brush her sensitive skin, tickling her ribs.
Through slightly squinted eyes she watched the man turn his head to the right. His action was soon followed by a meek knock on a door she could not see.
Moving her body so that she was out of sight, the man murmured. ''You may come in.''
The sound of a door opening and closing filled the otherwise silent space. Hidden as she was, Diana could not see the person who now entered the room, but she did recognize his voice. It belonged to one of the people who had taken care of her and helped heal her sick body.
The rocking chair stopped moving. ''What do you want, Daniel?''
''Diana, uhm, your daughter, I mean you know that she is your daughter, but...'' The person laughed nervously. Perhaps he could feel the odd power surrounding them as well. ''She needs to eat something, Lord Dionysus.''
Diana's mouth went dry and her tongue darted out to wet her lips unsuccessfully. It was then that she noticed that the man had not been speaking English for the whole time. Only when the boy entered the room did he start speaking one of the only two languages she knew. Another thing she was certain of was that the man had certainly not been talking to her in French before.
How had she understood everything he had said before?
For a second her vision went blank. Lord Dionysus?
''Did you bring something for her?'' The man—no, the god, Diana thought almost hysterically—asked. There was the sound of some fluid moving inside of a container and a strained 'yes'. ''Then give it to me.''
A jittery shuffle later, Dionysus removed one of his hands from her body and presumably grabbed a baby bottle. Her assumption was confirmed when only a few seconds later something was forced into her mouth. On instinct her lips closed around it and she started to suckle the milk inside of the container.
That did not stop her mind from wandering to unwanted places.
Dionysos. She was a daughter of Dionysus.
After all Diana had heard, seen and felt there was no denying that little fact. And while she felt like having a panic attack and her mind internally screamed at her, the girl could not stop herself from being lulled to sleep by gentle rocking of the chair and her divine father's reassurance.
Dionysus visited her at least once a day.
Each time he gently picked Diana up into his arm and cradled her tiny body to his chest. Sometimes he would walk around the room and tell her stories of times that have long since past. There were also visits during which he would just sit down in the rocking chair and softly caress her stomach. The gesture was oddly soothing and managed to lull more than once.
His visits were always accompanied by his divine aura. It announced his presence even before he entered the room and calmed her frazzled nerves. The unmistakable smell of grape filled her nostrils each time her 'father' was in the vicinity.
A familiar nostalgia always welled up in her chest, though it was easily forgotten when Dionysus started regaling her with one of his tales.
Diana did not know all that much about Greek mythology, but there was a certain appeal to hearing it from someone who had actually witnessed all of those events. The way he spoke of those times always managed to capture her attention, especially if he told her something about himself.
Stories of Dionysus' youth and his wife Ariadne were Diana's favorites. They also seemed to have a special place in her new father's heart.
Besides, they made him seem almost human or at least a little more approachable. Fact was, however, that Diana never did manage to forget the truth. The stifling aura surrounding her did not allow such delusions.
Dionysus was a god and that was something Diana would never forget.
Although it should have scared her, like it did all those other campers who came across them while her 'father' unleashed some of his powers, the fact that her parent was a god worked as a reassurance.
Diana had read the books about the world of Percy Jackson and knew quite a lot about it. She was aware of the dangers this world represented and that being a demigod wasn't a good thing, but all things considered, her situation wasn't all that bad.
Camp Half-Blood was probably one of the safest places in this universe and Diana was situated inside its borders. Another positive aspect was that none of the Big Three sired her and Diana's godly parent ended up being Dionysus. He was probably one of the only gods that were able to take care of their children without suffering Zeus' wrath. His punishment forced him to stay in camp and proximity of his children. If Zeus wanted to keep him away from her, he would have to cancel the punishment.
Diana doubted or at least hoped that her 'dear grandfather' would do no such a thing.
''What are you thinking about so hard, little Diana?'' Half of the time they were alone Dionysus spoke Ancient Greek. The other half was English.
Two weeks after arriving at her new home Diana obviously still couldn't answer any of his questions and wouldn't be able to do it for few months. Her dependence was a very daunting thing. Even worse was the humility she experienced when strangers were forced to change my diapers and bath me in those little plastic tubs.
Although, Diana did have to admit that she preferred them taking care of her to being trapped in a dirty diaper. Almost everything seemed preferable to stinking like a dump and living in her own shit. And that was how she would end up if no one looked after her. Dying of thirst and hunger would come afterwards and it certainly wasn't something she desired.
A finger stroked the skin above her brows. ''Such a curious little creature.''
More than once Diana had wondered how it was possible to understand a language she had never learned. She knew that her brain was somehow wired to it, but the whole thing was still mind-blowing. In her previous life Diana had been proficient in only one language; French. English was the second language the girl learned and she wasn't all that bad in that subject. Then came German and she completely gave up on learning a new language.
Yet here she was, never having learned Ancient Greek, but still able to understand almost every single thing Dionysus said.
Amazing, that's what it was.
''I have a feeling you're not even listening to me.'' He chuckled, softly caressing her stomach. ''But you're too young to understand anything anyway, huh?''
Listening to him wasn't all that easy. The attention span of an infant limited the information she could absorb from his words.
Having the choice between looking dumbly up at him and gurgling cutely, Diana picked the latter. Then she watched as her 'father' slowly lowered his head and felt his lips brushing her forehead.
Through the last weeks Diana's vision had cleared slightly. She still couldn't see everything perfectly, but if something was near enough, then Diana could see it pretty clearly. Her vision also reached a little farther now and its improvement allowed the girl to observe her father's face intently.
He looked different than he did in the movies and the books. His face younger and more defined. Prominent cheekbones and pinkish lips that contrasted heavily with his tanned skin greeted her sight. A few locks of dark curly hair fell over his forehead, but did not shadow his magnificent violet eyes. They were his most outstanding feature and seemed to be composed of myriad shades of purple. Diana could see some lavender flecks and a dark circle around the iris.
Never before had she seen such beautiful eyes. And there was also no denying that Dionysus was probably one of the most handsome and beautiful men she had ever come across. Though she did not feel any attraction to him—He was the father of her current body and she was just an infant, eww.—she could easily admit that simple fact.
Although, she also had to admit that there was something decidedly inhuman about his beauty. In some ways, it just seemed too good to be true.
Nevertheless, there was no denying the truth that gods and goddesses were beautiful creatures to whom mortals could never hope to compare.
Diana's perception changed as her 'father' adjusted his hold on her so that her body was now situated vertically instead of horizontally to the ground. Gingerly, one of his hands supported her head while the other held her in place. This position made it possible for her to look over the man's shoulder and out of the only window in her room.
Even with her improved vision the girl could still not recognize much of the outside world. But sky truly did have a lovely color as the sun slowly seemed to be disappearing behind the horizon. Soft pinkish and orange hues changed into an at first light and later navy blue. A glowing orb replaced the fiery sun and took its place on the night sky.
Diana watched all that happen while her father walked around her room, rocking her in his arms. A soothing breeze wafted into the room through the open window and cooled her warm skin.
Tired eyes were slowly covered by pale lids and young girl let sleep take her to another realm.
''You look better, Diana.'' The horned man murmured as he leaned his body over her crib and brushed a hand over her short hair. His familiar voice and green eyes filled her body with a warm calmness and forced a tiny smile onto her lips.
Diana had been angry at the man when he left her alone with a child, but that did not change the fact that this creature was her savior. Without him she wouldn't be among the living anymore.
Raising his body, the man looked down at her. ''I should probably go, hmm? After all the trouble you've caused me, I just wanted to make sure that you're alright.''
Before he could move away, Diana raised her arms with some difficulty and gurgled happily at him. Boredom was something constant in her new life and she appreciated every visit someone bestowed upon her. Most of the time it was Dionysus who came into her room. Daemon, the boy who had healed her, was the another one of her visitors. Then there were also those ones that she had seen once or twice since being born in this world; Chiron and a young boy named Noah.
Every distraction from regarding the wall was a welcome one.
''Well,'' Sighing the man reached out for Diana, his warm hands lifting her body. ''I do have some time on my hands and I also believe that I haven't introduced myself yet.''
Blinking once and then twice, she realized that his name truly was a mystery. Until then the girl had just called him 'stranger', 'the man' or her 'savior' and she certainly wouldn't mind hearing his name. At least it would sound slightly more personal.
''I'm Ichneutae, though you probably won't be able to pronounce it for a while.'' He leaned his head against her own. ''Besides, I'm pretty sure that Lord Dionysus would prefer it if your first word had something to do with him. So, when the right time comes just call out to him and afterwards you can ask for me.''
Diana doubted she could properly pronounce his name even with fully developed vocal chords. It was unusual and sounded a little weird to her, but she guessed that it could have been worse.
His behavior was kind of cute. The satyr obviously didn't know anything about children and that made him feel slightly awkward while holding her, but he did not leave. Ichneutae stayed with the young girl and took care of her even though he wasn't all that eager.
Considering all that he had done for her—Ichneutae had taken her from Reykjavik's cold streets to the the only safe haven she would know in this life.—Diana could forgive him leaving her with a child and not coming back for three weeks. She could also forgive him behaving awkwardly in her presence.
No matter what may happen in the future, Ichneutae would always be her savior.
Pursing her lips, Diana watched as the satyr carefully lowered her back into the crib. His face was blurred, but she had a feeling that he was smiling down at her.
A soft blanket covered her body and the soft tune of a flute reached her ears. It did not take her long to realize that the satyr was playing a calming melody for her. The pleasant sound soothed Diana and allowed her mind to wander.
Dionysus would be probably arriving soon with her bottle. Normally, he always came a about half an hour after she woke up in the morning. Breakfast was served during his visits and surprisingly he also changed her diapers. Perhaps Diana shouldn't have been so surprised, Dionysus was her new body's father after all. And yet she had not expected to ever see a god changing a child's dirty diaper.
Weren't they too divine and mighty to do something so banal?
Apparently not.
Understandably, him being a god did not make the whole ordeal any less humiliating. There was just something truly horrifying about being unable to take care of oneself and having to rely on others.
Knowing her luck or rather how much the Fates seemed to hate her, Diana guessed it could have been much worse. Blindness or some other permanent disability would have been something they could have surely bestowed upon her. Or perhaps they could have let her die on the cold streets of Reykjavik.
Or imagine the horror of being reborn as a daughter of Zeus. Diana never did dream of becoming a tree.
The girl knew that with all that had happened to her, her situation could have been a lot of worse. And while she listened to the soothing music of a flute, Diana, for the first time in her new life, silently thanked the Fates for their mercy.