after this chapter, there is just the epilogue. there's a huge author's note at the end explaining a lot of this story! i hope you all read it because it does help a little with the setting and prospective for this story.
review reply:
FairyRave: yes, the baby is going to be Molly as well :) it doesn't fit into canon i believe because JK said that Molly was older (and i always imagine Molly as older) but for this fanfiction that is so AU in so many aspects, i'll take it. "Thus I'm just going to say that I will still be reading this till the more or less bitter end." this is such a big compliment. i loved reading this and it made me all gooey and happy inside. thank you!
Phoenixx Rising: i'm glad to hear that your daughter is alive and well. nobody deserves the burden of losing a child, especially not much before their time. i hope that she grows up happy and healthy. "Also, I love the comic relief. Tarvos is awesome!" i love how much you love Tarvos. it's always great when someone likes your OC!
Chapter Fifty-Eight
"Typical!" a lethargic, thirty-year-old Audrey Brown offered an equally exhausted Molly a cup of tea before planting her arse onto her couch. She hated this ruddy thing. The only reason she hadn't replaced this ratty old couch yet was because she'd moulded her bum right into it. "Well, today's finally the day that Percy has to go make sure the God of war isn't going to annihilate the world over a century long temper tantrum with Zeus... keep in mind, Molly, that when he comes back home, I'm going to annihilate him."
It was six in the morning. It was raining kneazles and crups. Audrey was not in a good mood.
If Lucy woke up before nine today, Audrey was going to put her straight back to bed because she didn't feel like making her breakfast this morning... especially if she was sure that Lucy was just going to gawk at it and wait for it to come alive. Then Lucy was going to steal herself a custard pastry from Percy's drawer when she thought Audrey wasn't looking, scoff that right up and say that she didn't fancy breakfast that morning.
"You know that he's promised me that before he'd go to work today, he'd have a proper breakfast this morning?" Audrey fumed. "A proper breakfast he's promised and yet, look at what I found this morning! There are sugar crystals all over the counter! And my kitchen smells like the inside of a doughnut shop."
That bastard was going to have to face off a sugar crash before he faced off any Greek Gods!
Audrey supposed that she should be trembling in fear over the fact that everything she knew might change today, but really, she was too bloody exhausted to be worry about the end of the world. Her little Molly (and Percy) had kept her up all night and she was absolutely knackered.
Yes, Percy hadn't slept properly last night.
And no, it wasn't the end of the world that was keeping her boyfriend up all night. Oh no! That was too insignificant! It was nowhere near as important as his precious paperwork!
She really wanted to murder him yesterday. She really did. Trying to put him to bed was worse than trying to put baby Molly to bed. You see, babies didn't try to debate the necessity of sleep when you tried to put them to bed. Babies didn't try to tell her that they had to finish this last bit of the report, or else they'd be fired and that meant the whole family would have to live in a shoebox, subsisting on nothing but cheap sausage rolls ("I'm not even sure what kind of meat they put into that sausage roll, Audrey! I'm just sure it's against the law!" her bigheaded baby—she meant to say boyfriend—brought up as an argument.) Babies weren't complete arseholes that insisted that they could function on an hour's worth of sleep. And most importantly, babies didn't assure her that they'd have a proper breakfast in the morning and then eat jam doughnuts instead!
This was how everything was playing out. The fate of the world rested on the shoulders of a man that still refused to go to bed at a reasonable hour, and whose diet consisted of the most minimal amounts of food... up until three in the morning, where he would decide to scoff a whole sticky toffee pudding cake!
"He's meeting with Ares today?" Molly was visibly surprised to hear this. "He's told Ron, Harry and Hermione that tomorrow might be end of the world."
"Oh, that! That's just so they could leave him alone of course," Audrey sighed deeply before pulling her feet up on the coffee table. What? It was her coffee table. "It's amazing how much he insists on doing this himself. Percy Weasley doesn't need anyone else's help. He never does, you know."
Molly nodded her head. She looked uncomfortable.
"Molly?" Audrey sat up properly. "Are you alright?"
"Yes, yes, I'm perfectly fine..." Molly replied, but she didn't sound fine. "I mean I do wonder if I should even bother making supper tonight. I've thought to make a roast dinner because I really did think this whole end of the world situation was tomorrow. I was going to invite you and Percy over for a proper meal tonight. That's why I've decided to visit you at six in the morning! I knew you'd be up. You see... Percy's written me a few owls recently and he's told me that you're always up when he's ready to go to work."
Audrey was somewhat amused by Molly's rambling. She was sure that Percy had put in a few bits of colourful language when he was telling Molly about the fact that Audrey seemed to be lurking about the living room in the morning, ready to assault him with questions that he surely didn't want to answer at any point in the day... much less at five in the morning!
"This is going to sound so odd but..." Molly cleared her throat. "Do you have any idea when Percy is going to meet up with him?"
Audrey laughed, even though nothing about this situation was the least bit funny.
"Yes, he's told Ares that he'd meet up with him after work!" Audrey still couldn't believe this.
This was all a hoax. It had to be.
No antagonist planned their confrontation with the supposed protagonist through a series of owls. No antagonist decided that seven in the evening just wouldn't do because he'd promised Apollo he'd finally give back the Oracle of Delphi.
Audrey sighed deeply. Percy was going to give her an aneurysm long before eight in the evening tonight. "I've been telling myself that nothing's going to happen today. Percy's going to be able to fight the bastard just fine, because he can't be late to his very important presentation tomorrow."
Molly nodded her head again, but she didn't seem convinced. "Audrey?"
"Yes, Molly?" Audrey asked.
Molly looked ashamed. "I'm sorry," she said. "I'm terrified... and I'm not sure if I should or shouldn't be. You're not acting like much is happening and... I'm not sure what to do."
Audrey looked down at her lap. "I know," she swallowed the lump in her throat. "I'm absolutely terrified myself. I'm scared that when he lets Ares take his body as a vessel, he's just going to lose control of it all together. I'm absolutely terrified that the temptation would be impossible for him to fight."
She crossed her legs up over the couch. Today might be the end of everything she knew and she refused to get out of her oversized, striped pyjamas for the rest of the day.
"Can you imagine what it's like?" Audrey asked. She'd been wondering for a long time.
"To crave the war?" Molly raised an eyebrow. "To want complete and utter destruction? To want to harm someone you love? To want to kill them? To find it hard not to? To-to fantasise about it constantly?"
"Yes, that," Audrey replied in an indifferent tone of voice.
Molly shook her head. "I've no clue," she honestly said. "And I'm not too keen on finding out either."
Audrey nodded her head. "I..." her throat felt dry. "You know what?"
"What?" Molly asked. She didn't seem all that keen on her tea this morning. Pity. Audrey was sure that she'd actually made a proper cup this morning.
Audrey locked eyes with Molly. She hadn't noticed, not until then that they had identical eyes—deep brown with a thick honey rim.
Had Percy ever noticed that before?
"We've made it obvious countless of times that his... cravings are extremely odd and unnerving," Audrey was finding it hard to find the words that she wanted to use today. It felt like everything that left her tongue didn't fully explain what she really meant to say. "It's disturbing that he's entertained by death and torture. It's disturbing that he has a taste for it. I know that it's wrong. He knows that it's wrong, but..."
"But?" Molly urged Audrey to continue.
Audrey wasn't sure she wanted to continue her piece, but she did anyway.
"He can't stop himself from wanting it!" it felt odd even rolling off her tongue. "He wants a war the same way people want a holiday! Honestly, I've seen him ecstatic when he'd seen a cat die in front of him and-and-and he has this powerful yearning to... kill and-and-and he has all this... power in his body. He can do whatever he wants, and it's so hard for him not to eradicate the universe! It's just..."
Audrey took a deep breath because she wasn't making much sense anymore. "There were so many times where he'd cut himself by accident—or let's be honest here—on purpose, and he'd sit there, licking the blood off his wound like a deprived vampire!"
"Godric, you're not talking about my Percy, are you?" Molly paled. She probably felt like she would've noticed if her son was licking off his own blood from his flesh wounds.
"He just..." Audrey was still struggling to find words. "He has this deep yearning for these—these things that most people wish to never encounter in their life... and I..."
"Yes?" Molly prompted her to finish her piece.
"I just..." Audrey found it strange even thinking about saying this out loud, much less saying it to someone else. "I regret that I've never asked him what he loves so much about it."
Molly didn't seem to find this as odd as Audrey thought she would.
"Well..." it was Molly's turn to struggle for words. "When he comes home tonight, you can ask him."
"I'M not coming home tonight," Percy was talking to himself as he walked in the woods to the spot where he'd first met Alec Lestrange. He crossed his arms over his chest. He shuddered even though it wasn't cold. His stomach was flipping. He felt like he'd aged twenty years (well, he did have arthritis in his dodgy leg so that wasn't helping his case.) "I'm not. I can't do this. I've lost the ability to say no to my mum when she asks me if I want more on my plate because she worries for me. How in Merlin's name am I supposed to say NO to the one thing that I've wanted all my life?"
Last night, he had a hard time deciding what to wear today. When he'd picked out his black trousers, white button-down and purple tie, Audrey had told him that he looked like he was a seventh year going for his first job interview rather than going for the biggest fight in Percy's life.
When Adrian Pucey 'fixed' Percy's hair that morning, Audrey had decided that Percy was actually looking more like he was going on a date with Ares.
Percy was appalled at the thought to say the least. He liked to think that if he was going to go out with any Greek God, he'd have gone for something more like himself. Perhaps Adonis.
Percy pushed his glasses up his nose and looked down at his notes. Yes, he actually bothered to make notes.
He tried to read his notes but he couldn't make much sense of it. He walked down this path, getting closer to the field where he'd first met Penelope. A shudder went down his spine. It was getting cold. He could remember very few times in his life where he was freezing. As he reminisced about wintery weathers and other things that started with a W, a certain memory found its way to his mind...
It was the beginning of December. A twelve-year-old Percy had his hands into the pockets of his extremely light robes as he walked down the Quidditch pitch. He knew that he shouldn't be here. He wasn't on any Quidditch team. He didn't have Quidditch practice. He just wanted to get away from the castle because he had such a terrible day! He had been given his first Dreadful on an assignment and he hadn't stopped crying all day long. He'd never even gotten an Acceptable before! And now, a Dreadful? He felt sick. He felt sick to his stomach.
He heard a snigger from behind. He turned around to catch sight of Terence Higgs, whom was wearing more layers than a wedding cake. In his hand was a small ice-cream cone. He wasn't supposed to be here either, but Percy supposed that he could threaten to tell Professor Snape about this, could he?
"How can you eat that in this weather?" Percy was surprised. He was ready to throw himself in the fireplace over at the Slytherin commons this morning. Yes, he realised it was stupid to take a walk outside when one didn't have the appropriate clothing and when one's bum had turned to ice. "It's freezing!"
"Do you want a bite?" Terence shoved the cone towards Percy, whom just shook his head and pushed Terence's arm back.
"NO!" Percy shrieked. His stomach was flipping. He had a really long day and he just wanted to go to his bed because what was the point of being awake? Percy was sure that his family hated him. His teachers all thought he was stupid. He was never going to amount to anything in his life. He was... he was dreadful! Absolutely dreadful! Even his assignment said so. "Get that way from me!"
"Scared?" Terence smeared the ice-cold ice-cream across Percy's face. Percy let out a yelp and jumped back. "It's only ice-cream! Lighten up for Merlin's sake, Weasley! Must you be scared of everything!"
"I'm not scared of anything!" Percy exclaimed.
"That's why you're in Gryffindor, isn't it?" Terence sneered, as he stepped towards Percy with the ice-cream cone in his hand. "Look at you! You're scared!"
"I'm not!" Percy immediately started stepping back as Terence moved forward, only for twelve-year-old Percy to slip on a rock and fell onto his bottom. He couldn't help it... he burst into tears.
He humiliated himself! He hadn't meant to cry! It was just such a long day and he was so tired and alone... and he'd gone on a walk to clear up his head! Not have this happen to him. Percy just wanted to be held. He wanted his mum. Maybe she'd hug him if she wasn't too busy coddling everyone else.
Terence laughed. "Crying over spilled ice-cream, are you, Weasley?"
"SHUT UP!" Percy suddenly attacked Terence, throwing the other Slytherin to the ground. An instant satisfaction filled him as he pummelled his small freckled fists into Terence's sneering face. He just kept on hitting him and hitting him and hitting him... Percy could smell the blood even before he saw it. "SHUT UP, SHUT UP, SHUT UP!"
Look! Terence wasn't laughing now! He was letting out soft whimpers. "Stop, Percy," he whimpered. "Percy, stop. P-P-"
"NOW, I'M PERCY, AM I?" Percy cried out. He wanted to taste the blood. He wanted to sink his teeth into his flesh. He wanted to do all sorts of things that he knew that he shouldn't want to do but did anyway.
The sick feeling in his belly was going away. He wasn't upset anymore. He could eat if he wanted to. He could sleep. He could laugh. He wanted to play around like all the other kids now. He felt energised and wonderful and light. He had never felt like this before. He didn't want to be held anymore. He just wanted to tear Terence's eyes out like he did with Ginny's Gwenog doll. He wanted to tear his ear off too and make him feel sorry and he wanted to—
"PERCY!" Penelope tried to pull Percy off Terence. "PERCY, YOU CAN'T DO THIS!"
"I CAN DO WHATEVER I WANT!" Percy screeched, pushing Penelope off him. She let out a gasp. Apparently, she was surprised that someone so little could push her down. "LEAVE ME ALONE! LET ME KILL HIM!"
Percy snapped back into reality. His heart was pounding in his chest and he heard snickering. He turned around to see Alec Lestrange—Ares—staring back at him with a smirk on his face.
"What are you thinking of?" Ares asked.
Percy could sense his dark energy around him, like George could probably sense Fred's presence.
Percy and Ares—mirrors to each other. Fortunately, Percy always had a tendency to look away from mirrors. He always did find himself extremely unattractive after all. He did not need a mirror to confirm it.
"I will bring it to your attention for the thousandth time that asking me what I'm thinking of will not exactly make you come off as ruler of the universe," Percy practically had this statement memorised from the time that he'd been in the ward. He hadn't even written it in his notes. "It does, however, make you seem to be a desperate paedophile. You're a Greek God, and you have to ask me what I'm thinking of. You're—"
"—demoting myself quite a bit here," Ares finished off the statement. "I know, I know."
Percy offered a weak smile. "I was reminiscing."
"What about?" Ares asked, moving closer. "Show me."
Percy watched Alec Lestrange fall to the ground, like a dead body. Ares was gone.
Percy had to keep his hands to his side. The urge had never been this strong and he did not know how to stop himself. He could feel the dark energy flowing into him—Ares, Ares, Ares. He accepted it, allowing the darkness to embrace him from this inside. He'd never been so close to the darkness before. He'd become the silver-haired dark-eyed thing that he'd been seeing in the dark. He felt as if he was sucking a black cloud with every breath he took. He could feel his blood thickening, poisoned by the darkness. He... he was at home, in every scene of the world. He felt a warmth fill his being like he had never thought it would. He found himself smiling and wrapping his arms around himself.
Percy stared down at the vessel before him. Alec Lestrange. Ares' handmade meat suit. This was the suit that he used to harm his Penelope. This suit had touched her...
Percy threw his notes away and felt to the ground. He could hear Terence Higgs' cries as he stared down at the vessel before him. It was just a heap of flesh, bone and blood that Ares made decades ago; a useless mass of ligaments and joints that meant nothing now.
He took Alec's head into his hands... and then he ripped it off.
OLIVER Wood was grumbling to himself as he put his hands into his pockets. "I don't trust Percy."
Marcus had become unrecognisable the past few months. Bastard had managed to snag himself a nice slim and muscular physique and his eyes were glittering to boot! There was a certain glow to him that made Oliver feel like Marcus was either taking euphoria-inducing elixirs or he was pregnant.
Marcus insisted that he was neither, but he also refused to take a pregnant test. This left Oliver skeptical.
Oliver wanted to kill him—and then he also wanted to snog the hell out of him, but the bastard just had to be straighter than a broom... and married!
"You don't trust us either," Fred and George pointed out.
"To be fair, I don't trust you two either," Marcus defended Oliver.
"I don't trust anything that's ginger," Oliver wrapped his arms around his chest. He shouldn't have said that, considering he was walking with a houseful of gingers. "Including ginger nut biscuits."
"What do you mean you don't trust anything that's ginger?" Ron reminded him. "You live with us!"
"He's just sad 'cause someone ate his custard tarts," George said, turning his eyes towards Harry, whom shook his head. "Come on, Harry! It's alright! You could tell him. You're The Boy Who Lived after—"
Fred visibly paled, "Georgie, look!"
George whipped his head around and then lost all colour to his face.
Oliver wouldn't blame him because he was looking at the field himself. He'd seen a lot of things in his life, but seeing a blood-covered perfect prefect prissy Percy tear off visceral organs with his bare hands from an ex-Death Eater's body was not exactly one of the things that he'd thought he'd ever see in his life. And worst of all, he looked like he was enjoying it! Olive knew that there was something demented about this lad!
"Percy?" Harry looked alarmed. "Should we... give you a moment?"
Percy's cheeks coloured in. "No, Harry! I'm... well, I'm done," he dropped the organ in his hand. Was that the bloke's pancreas? He rubbed his blood-covered hands over his black trousers, and offered a smile. He straightened out his spine. "Well, I suppose that this is done."
Marcus eyed him suspiciously. "Done?" he sounded dubious.
"I did tell you that I do not need anyone's help," Percy reminded them. "It's finished. It's done."
"Yes, um..." Charlie stared down at the dismembered body. "We can see that."
Oliver definitely didn't believe him. He turned to look down at Molly, whose lips were trembling. Arthur was holding onto her shoulder. Ginny looked just as incredulous as Oliver felt.
"Brilliant," Ginny said, crossing her arms over her chest. "Let's go."
DINNER was the strangest affair that Oliver had seen in his life.
The table was stretched to accommodate every member of the Weasley clan, including Harry, Hermione, a confused Penelope, an uncertain Audrey and a confused Lucy. Avis was busy tapping the floor with her hands, laughing whenever it made the creaking sound. Oliver was scared the little thing was going to break the ancient floorboards if she kept doing that. Baby Molly was asleep in a cot. A baby monitor, charmed to change colours when quiet, quiet Molly arose from her slumber, was on the table beside a chronically fatigued Audrey whom looked like she hadn't slept since the first war ended.
Plates were piled high. Drinks were poured out... Interrogative questions were asked.
"Why were you acting like a maniac?" Question one, rephrased in Oliver's head. Molly had asked this one. She did not use the word maniac and she definitely asked it in a much nicer way.
"Momentary lapse in sanity," Percy had answered with a reserved smile.
"You said that this was all supposed to happen tomorrow. Why were you lying?" Question two, rephrased in Oliver's head. Ron asked this one. There was a lot more swearing and accusation when Ron had actually asked it.
"I didn't want anyone else to get harmed," Percy had answered automatically. "I believed that this was my fight and my fight alone."
"Is Ares really gone? Because I'm having a hard time believing that this is all really over. Usually, these things tend to end with a bang, and not with a whisper. He is a Greek God after all!" Question three, not rephrased. Arthur's question.
Percy gave a sharp nod of his head. "He may be a Greek God, but I did once defeat him when I was ten."
"If you could've really finished this all off so quickly, then why did it take you a year to prepare?" Question four, rephrased. Audrey. Included more anger and mentions of their relationship.
"I was mentally unwell," Percy reminded her. As if she could forget.
By that point, Oliver had stopped listening in on the questions. A lot of them were repeated and a lot of the times, Percy just perfectly rephrased whatever he'd said previously. Oliver wasn't happy. Yes, Percy had answered the questions... but he had the most automatic responses for them! It was like he had memorised them for a presentation of some sorts! He had no emotion connected to it. There was no stumbling, no emotion—it was like a statue was reading them out! Then again, the bastard never had much emotion anyway. Maybe he was reading too much into it because he hated Percy with every fibre of his being...
Oliver did actually have a good look down the table, just to make sure Percy wasn't holding a piece of parchment paper with a bunch of notes scribbled on top of them and reading it out!
Oliver was extremely skeptical about the whole situation that he'd just witnessed but he didn't raise any of his concerns, because he was afraid that Percy might do something to him if he knew that he didn't believe a word coming out of the bastard's mouth.
Hey! Percy dissected a Death Eater in front of them with his own bare hands—and looked to be having a great time!
Oliver had a reason to be absolutely terrified of him...
This was amplified with how their awful history was. He was surprised that Percy hadn't already smashed Oliver's thick, Quidditch-obsessed head with Thor's sledgehammer.
Just looking at Percy smiling at them with his creepy plastic smile and shining blue eyes really turned Oliver off his supper. How could anyone stand him? He was dressed like a Weasley but was no better than a Lestrange!
Despite the lack of appetite, Oliver still scoffed whatever was put in front of him because he was afraid that Percy might notice that he wasn't eating (an unusual occurrence for Oliver) and that he might somehow be able to read Oliver's mind and realise that he doubted everything Percy had said thus far. He was afraid that Percy might kill him and make it look like an accident! Hey! It was possible, alright?!
As time went on, everyone seemed to be laughing like they were having the best night of their lives.
The conversations seemed to change so quickly that Oliver couldn't keep up with them! He didn't even really want to. He was just exhausted and he wanted to scoff his potatoes and go upstairs.
"...Angelina and I are getting married this December..." said George (at some point).
"...I can't believe you did this to me," said Fred (to George, whilst fully smiling instead of yelling like usual.)
"...when are WE going to get married, Percy?" asked Audrey (she wasn't even angry mentioning it like usual.)
"...Arthur, I want another baby—" said a dreamy-eyed Molly.
"NO!" erupted the rest of the table... then they dissolved into laughter.
Oliver shifted uncomfortably in their seat. It was like they were being poisoned! With happiness!
Oliver didn't know how, but he was feeling it himself. He could feel happiness form in his bones and every fibre of his being wanted to believe the twat. He wanted to believe that everything was fine and dandy, but his hatred for Percy was too strong. He'd rather die than believe anything the twat said.
Percy wasn't the least bit convincing. His arguments were weak and unpersuasive and although they sounded logical at first, the more Oliver picked at his points, the more he saw how poor they were.
Yet there was something in Oliver's body that was telling him to just believe him. Something that was strong and growing and growing and growing... gnawing at his brain.
JUST BELIEVE HIM!
It was so strong that as time passed, Oliver could barely breathe. His bones were starting to become liquidated. He could start to remember memories of his parents that he was sure he never had before. He could remember the first time that Marcus hugged him. He could remember the exact memory where he'd fallen in love with his best friend. He could remember how happy he was when he'd heard that he'd been accepted into Puddlemere United. No matter what he did, every good memory that had ever happened to him flashed in front of his eyes. It was like he'd never known sadness.
He started to laugh too, and he wasn't sure why. He was just warm inside... but he was in pain. He was in so much pain. Because he wouldn't let himself believe that everything was okay.
He knew if he did, the pain would go away but he couldn't. He couldn't. He couldn't.
The only thing that kept him planted into this universe was Marcus.
He didn't look like his new shiny self anymore. He looked like his old, haggard self. He was shaky and weak. He hadn't eaten a thing of dinner, despite Molly's insistence that he have something to settle his stomach. The only thing that he'd had was his Merlin-forsaken tea. Actually, he feigned that he'd had his tea to get Molly off his back, but the cup was as full as it was when she'd handed it to him!
The whole dinner went by so smoothly that Oliver knew that something was up. It wasn't a proper Weasley dinner unless someone got burned, maimed or the Auror department was involved somehow.
That, and Penelope hadn't told had one fight with Marcus throughout the whole dinner. Impossible.
He glanced over at Marcus, whom gave a quick nod of his head when he was sure Percy wasn't looking.
Oliver was sure that Percy had brainwashed them. He wasn't sure how he'd done it.
Oliver saw Marcus shove a blueberry muffin into his rucksack and give a quick wave of his hand. Follow me.
He waited at least fifteen minutes after Marcus left to leave. He went upstairs and looked in every room. He found Marcus in the lavatory, pretending to be interested in how his hair looked like (it looked like rubbish, like always. He loved that about Marcus. He loved that his hair was always rubbish.)
Marcus looked at Oliver, and then smirked.
"Are you still angry about the fact that Penelope stole your idea and took me all around the world in two months?" Marcus asked, raising an eyebrow.
PERCY had never been to Greece before. He placed his hand on his lower back and stared at Olympus. A sudden nostalgia started tugged at his heart—not his nostalgia. Ares. They'd only been together for one day, and he could already tell their feelings apart.
He hoped no tourists came around, or he would be forced to kill them all.
We have to ascend to that mountain, said Ares. And then we will kill my father. We'll take his throne, and we'll start a war for the ages. I've gotten this far with other vessels before, but they were weak! They'd all died. They could not ascend.
Visions of spears and chariots came to Percy's mind and danced in front of his eyes. He'd run away from home years ago, to find his home. Now, he was so close he could almost taste it. He knew where he truly belonged. Every core of his being screamed it out to him. He could feel and taste nothing but the blood of Ares' former vessel. He could remember memories he'd never had before. He could remember the Trojan War. He could remember Zeus looking down at him, telling him that he was the most hated son of all. He could remember the row that they had, the centuries old promise that he would come back to Olympus one day and that it would not be a happy reunion.
Percy could remember the times that Molly had told him that he was fit for more than the rest of his brothers, that he was special, and that she loved him very much. She was right. He was destined for war.
The darkness was not taking him hostage. It was taking him home...
A silver-haired lady with eyes darker than Percy's soul was awaiting him. She had stories for him, stories that couldn't be torn by little twin brothers that were having a bit of fun with a bunch of enchanted sticks.
"Percy," a voice called out to him. He thought it was just his mind, before he turned to see Oliver Wood.
Percy did not speak. He let his other half, Ares, speak. "You're a very interesting character, Oliver."
"Really?" Oliver stared at him with a wary expression. "I thought I was just a Quidditch-obsessed heathen."
Ares laughed. Percy did not think it was funny.
"Yes!" Ares insisted on continuing his ludicrous speech. Percy was never a big fan of them. He thought that they weren't the most properly structured. "I think the fact that you've decided to be an Animagus very interesting. How old were you when you perfected the craft?"
"Ten," Oliver replied. He didn't move from his spot at all. "I wanted to be adopted."
"So you became a mutt because you noticed one day, when you were looking out the window of your sad, sad orphanage that people tended to adopt pets more than they tended to adopt silly little Quidditch-obsessed boys," Ares mocked. Percy was... very surprised. He didn't know that that was the reason for why Oliver had decided to be an Animagus. "Even as a dog, they didn't want you."
Oliver looked like he'd been slapped. "I wasn't small like the other dogs that all the other children wanted."
Percy's heart sunk into his chest. He could remember the dog lying down beside Marcus. He thought it was rather adorable that the dog had streaks in his abdomen to signify Oliver's hard-rock abdominals. But yes, Oliver was a large bloke. He had to have been a large dog too.
You cannot tell me that you feel sorry for him, Ares snapped at his other half. You're not weak like he is, Percival. Don't give into him. It's a ploy. This is the boy that your father wanted to replace you with... or have you forgotten?
I... I haven't, Percy sounded uncertain.
He suddenly was tackled to the ground. He felt a hand move towards his dodgy leg. SNAP!
Ares pushed Marcus Flint off him, and glared at him with a murderous look to his eyes. "You! I should've killed you the moment that your mother gave birth to you!" Ares formed his hands into fists and then smashed Marcus' face in. Percy felt happiness form into his chest. He felt Flitterbies form into his chest every time he his hands become wetter. He wanted to laugh when he felt Oliver Wood trying to pull Ares off Marcus, to no avail. Ares flung Oliver off Percy's frame effortlessly. "Ever since you learned how to talk, you've been a bloody problem! I smashed your head in for five years and yet you still have some semblance of a self esteem! You're so thick you don't even know that you're supposed to feel like absolute rubbish when your father has spent the last five years calling you worthless!"
"My father has never called me worthless!" Marcus exclaimed, spitting out one of his teeth.
Ares smashed his fists onto Marcus' chest. He saw blood drain from his face. "WHY WON'T YOU DIE, YOU STUPID..." another swing to Marcus' face, "...BLOODY..." he grabbed his leg and snapped it like the twig that it was, "...HUFFLEPUFF!"
Marcus just lost consciousness. Oliver ran to his side almost immediately.
"Marcus? Marcus?" Oliver shook him as hard as he could. "Marcus, wake up!"
Ares turned to look at the mountain. Percy tried to push away his hesitation, as Ares prepared himself for his monumental ascent. He smiled at the blood red skies. The sun was dawning. The night would be here soon. And tomorrow? A new era would await them all.
"Wha?" Marcus woke up. That Zeus forsaken part-troll must've found the elixir of eternal life! Ares would torture him slowly after he'd destroyed his father.
Ares let himself ascend. His body floating in the air, his godliness emitting a florescent glow... he was like a rising star. He closed his eyes, enjoying the feeling of flight... he was close to the top... reaching, reaching—
NO! A pain came to him. It was an impossible, terrible, CRIPPLING pain.
Ares fell from the near height of Olympus, crashing down to the ground with this... this feeble body! Foiled again! Ares attempted to leave this putrid body, but found himself unable to move. It was as if he'd been locked inside a house and someone had thrown away the key.
I can't leave this body! I'm trapped! Ares realised. You planned this!
I did, Percy admitted. Would you like me to tell a story?
Percy did like stories. He ran away from home because his brothers had destroyed all his stories once.
His story began in the ward.
Ares had let slip a very important piece of information: he could not access Percy's thoughts. Percy had a natural barrier against him. Percy could choose which thoughts he wanted to disclose... yet at the same time, Percy could not read Ares' thoughts. He did not know Ares' true ambitions.
Yet they could feel each other's hunger for the war. They wanted to feed off each other like hungry wolves.
The need was there. It was real. Pulsating. Percy felt his body howling for it like a wolf did for the moon.
The hunger made Percy realise another very important thing: they were each other's equivalents. They were equals. They were mirrors. They were two halves of a whole. Day and night. Sun and moon. Fire and water.
Percy barely felt the cold. He was kept warm by his fraudulent mother, the darkness...
In the same year, Percy got his life-changing letter—a letter from Marcus Flint that told him that his epilepsy really was a gift from Athena to help conquer Ares. It was not an illness as he thought before. She had given him a body of spastic, archaic magic that was so powerful that his body convulsed as a result of it. It was so strong that he could only learn how to control a small segment of it. Percy was meant to learn how to prevent himself from convulsing and falling prey to a sickness the power inside his body. He was only meant to harness the ability to control a small fraction of the power inside his body; the rest of it had kept him alive when he continued to deplete his body of blood. It kept him warm during the winter days, and tried to fight the darkness away when Percy could not. It made him hunger for something more. Something better.
Percy invited Ares into his body. As long as they shared the same vessel, they were still equivalents.
They shared every cell like they would share stories of torture and fantasises of the darkness. The warmth in their bones as they tasted their own blood. They shared each other's hunger and their meals. They shared it, they shared everything... they shared every bodily tissue... except...
Percy's dodgy leg. Percy was used to the pain. The pain that shunned everything, including the hunger. But Percy learned to shun the pain a lot time ago. The hunger learned how to grow even in the presence of pain.
But that part of his epilepsy that kept him warm at night learned how to shun the hunger too.
Percy hunted for plans in his shed. He found the small phial of scarlet red liquid that Tarvos' relative had given him years ago. It had made him so happy when he'd taken it. He did not feel pain for days. He took some of it, and the rest he'd rubbed all over his mum's hands at night. Percy always thought his mum had a magical touch. And she did. For that night, everything she touched—from people to food to silverware—had been polluted with happiness.
At dinner last night, people found themselves in a state of happiness Percy thought he was only to know once. They believed anything that came out of Percy's mouth. They had to. He'd made them so happy. They were willing to believe anything... and they were willing to eat anything. They ate, and they ate and they became happier. Their food was poisoned.
Marcus didn't eat. It wasn't unusual. He had shunned his hunger a lot time ago.
Oliver hungered for Marcus. He ate but the food did not fill his heart with happiness. It couldn't.
They were meant to come here. Marcus had promised to come here. He promised to help him.
Percy could not stand shunning the hunger anymore. He wanted to feed... on blood, on flesh, on the wars. He wanted to feed on stories that he was promises. He was weak.
Marcus knew. Marcus had always known.
Marcus had attacked Percy's leg. The pain was there. Small. Sharp. A distraction... Ares was distracted. Ares was not used to being distracted from his hunger.
When Ares was in pain, Percy and Ares ceased to be equivalents. Percy had more power. Percy had locked Ares into his body like he was a misbehaved child. He locked him in his house so that he did not make Percy hungry with fantasies of rotting bones and flesh. He locked him in the house because Percy could find his home elsewhere. He did not want to live in this house, with this hunger. He knew that once he would feed, he would keep on eating and eating... and he would be empty and empty. Forever.
There was not enough blood in the world to satisfy Percy's body. There was not enough flesh, not enough meat, or cartilage. He would hear screams of those that had harmed him and he could hear it for all of eternity and it would not be enough. The sky could cry and he would still be dry. The moon could dance and he would still just stare.
Percy was always meant to stay hungry. He was not even meant to die. He was just meant to stay hungry.
He could not feed.
Ares ascended. It was too much for Percy's weak body that had only tasted its own blood. The potion that Percy had taken hadn't been enough to dilute the pain, not of the hunger but of his leg... Percy let go.
He let Ares feel the pain that shunned the God of war's hunger for war. Percy took the fall, and he let Ares bite him. It was only a small little bite, but here Percy was now. He had fallen from the height of 2,500 metres. Roughly 400 metres away from the top of Olympus.
Ares had bit him hard.
Percy landed on his dodgy leg. He was in the most pain that he'd ever been in his entire life. A thousand Cruciatus curses couldn't put him in that much leg. He could not feel the hunger at all anymore... and he was not quite sure how he was alive. He just was.
The redness in the sky had disappeared. There was no blood for them, either of them. Not ever again.
But why? You were happy! We were both happy! I could feel your comfort. You and I were the perfect halves! We completed each other. You were my ultimate and my one true vessel. Ares didn't seem to understand. You were finally home—and you then... you chose to burn it to the ground!
Percy was certain that he would never be able to walk again... yet he'd never been this happy in his life.
He wondered what it would be like to hear his daughter laugh...
You seem to have forgotten, Percy beamed at the black sky, that my mother promised me a better home.
final note before epilogue (next and last chapter):
"Percy pushed his glasses up his nose and looked down at his notes. Yes, he actually bothered to make notes." the content of these notes are explored later, and hinted at when Oliver says that Percy's responses seems automatic. rehearsed. it was. Percy's notes were related to the questions that his family were going to ask after he 'gives into' Ares. he went off on the fact that Ares could not read Percy's thoughts like he could Arthur's. this was explored before when Percy was in the ward. this was all part of the ploy to garner Ares' trust and make him think that he really did persuade Percy into the dark side.
"The sick feeling in his belly was going away. He wasn't upset anymore. He could eat if he wanted to. He could sleep. He could laugh. He wanted to play around like all the other kids now. He felt energised and wonderful and light. He had never felt like this before. He didn't want to be held anymore. He just wanted to tear Terence's eyes out like he did with Ginny's Gwenog doll." this scene was meant to serve two purposes. 1) it's meant to indicate that Percy has had mental lapses before. some we did see, i.e. the Gwenog doll scene and a drunken Percy confessing to Molly and the more so recent scenes, and some we did not, i.e. this scene in flashback. it was mostly ignored by others. 2) it's meant to describe Percy's behaviourisms. his confusing sleeping/eating habits, his distance from others, his irritability as a child, his inability to cope - you can even go as far as to say that this may have been the drive for him to run away. this is one of the times where Percy breaks at something small, i.e. a bad day where Terence is making fun of him and his bad grade. it's reminiscent of the first scene in this fanfiction where Percy overreacts to the twins destroying his books and lying about the wand.
"Percy stared down at the vessel before him. Alec Lestrange. Ares' handmade meat suit. This was the suit that he used to harm his Penelope. This suit had touched her..." this is one of the consistently disturbing things i had to write about Percy. i know i had to write him having very unsavoury thoughts but this is one of the worst. i think it's been hinted a few times that Percy has a strange obsession with Penelope and feels the need to protect her as he did when they were children. particularly when it comes to people touching her. it was hinted at Roger and then at Marcus (that he would not be able to touch Penelope if he was dead). honestly, make what you want from it. i have my own idea as to why Percy feels like this, but it is not a set in stone reason. for those that were interested for how this was supposed to go... honestly, in the first few drafts of this fanfiction (and i don't know if you want to use this chain of events to describe it), there was supposed to be a molestation plot from when Percy is a child, that he kept buried deeply, that that he harnesses hate around that triggered this cascade of 'i want everyone to die'. i did not want to go this route, but this was how it was supposed to go initially and explains Percy's overprotection to someone that has been sexually assaulted, i.e. Penelope or his changing behaviour when he realised that Marcus is abused. you could still keep that plot in mind if you want, just something that has never been dealt with, i.e. in the beginning where Audrey said she never asked him why he was so obsessed with it. i kept it very open to discussion and i did not want to add this plot in (even though i already have a trigger warning for sexual assault), but this was what i originally had in mind when i was writing this.
the final few paragraphs were meant to describe Percy's ploy. just for a recap, Percy and Ares are 'equivalents'. they are equal. a tie. the ploy was to attack Percy's leg and the pain would distract Ares from the hunger to help Percy gain control power of his body. during this short period of time, Percy chose to 'lock' Ares in his body, as if they were a lock, box and key dynamic. Ares ascended, but the potion that Percy had taken was starting to wear off (the scarlet potion that dulled pain - and he spiked the food with - was wearing off. Percy took this potion so that Ares would be completely shocked of the pain. he gave it to his family so that they would believe him when he would say that he defeated Ares the first time around. the ascending process changes the atmospheric pressure, so the partial pressure of inspired oxygen. Percy's ascend is extremely quick. this, of course, has a negative impact on his whole body system. Percy's whole body could not cope with the oxygen dynamic and he collapses. of course, take out his mystical magical epilepsy that keeps Percy alive no matter what, he'd be dead.) in fact, Percy is mildly delirious as he explains the story using the wolf, hunger and darkness analogy. "Percy was certain that he would never be able to walk again... yet he'd never been this happy in his life." though as you will see in the epilogue, Percy not only is not able to walk... he is completely done for. he is paralysed and is unresponsive BUT because this chapter is written in his point of view, and he does not describe any other symptom other than the pain of his leg because to him, it is irrelevant. his dodgy leg, himself and Ares are the only thing that are in the equation. this, of course, is extremely medically inaccurate, as is the rest of this fanfiction but... i think you've already guessed that. but that was my reasoning behind Percy's collapse. the severe altitude sickness.
there will be a more comprehensive note following this in the epilogue.