A/N: I've realized something about my writing style; when I write a chapter, I have a predetermined amount of stuff I want to put into it. I will just keep writing, completely disregarding chapter length, until I have written everything I wanted to write for that chapter. Saying that, I'm loving writing this story, I really am. It's fun to put a random vision I have in my imagination to paper, er, screen, and see it take shape. After writing out a rough draft of the plot line, I have come to the conclusion that: A. This is going to be a very, verylong story. Like, at least200k words. And B., I'm not entirely sure about how the canon timeline works. Since this is an AU I don't have to be entirely faithful to it, but I still feel like explaining: The Lightning Thief came out in 2005, Thalia was turned into a tree five years before Percy got there, so she must have been turned in the year 2000, being released seven years later in 2007. This chapter takes place about a week after The Sea of Monsters, so we're going to see Thalia right after she comes back to the world. I don't know when Percy's birthday is, so let's assume it's early in the year, so he's 14 at the start of the chapter. This chapter will occupy a six month span between books two and three, focusing on Percy's relationship with the fine folks at Camp Half-Blood- including one specific daughter of Zeus ;) I'm just going to say, right now, Thalia will be way OOC. I did that on purpose. Also, I know Riptide is a capped pen in the books, but that always just seemed so inconvenient to me, so it's now a click-top pen. Alright, read and enjoy.
DISCLAIMER: Percy Jackson and all related characters belong to Rick Riordan. Aurelius, Ilex and (this)Hercules belong to me, along with all OOCness.
Chapter 3: Camp Half-Blood
(6 Months Later)
Chiron's POV
A few young heroes are practicing wrestling in the fields near the volleyball courts near the camp border. I approach to make sure they're not hurting each other, but I see a Hermes councilor keeping an eye on them, so I continue on my way. The soft grass on the hill near the border feels nice on my hooves after keeping them in my wheelchair for so long. It's late June, and the influx of summer campers has finally slowed to a trickle. Though I understand that keeping a human guise to reassure the newer campers until they settle in is important, it still doesn't make my hooves feel any less cramped in that wheelchair.
I sigh deeply, and let the rich summer air fill my lungs. Today is too beautiful to focus on the bad. I ascend the hill towards the southernmost border of camp, enjoying the view of the country surrounding the magical border. I stop at the crest of the hill, and hear a slight hissing from my right. I turn, smirking, to look down at Peleus, the young dragon we have set to guard the Golden Fleece. The tiny creature is serpentine, with coppery scales and sulfurous yellow eyes. He flicks out a forked tongue the size of a pipe cleaner, and tries to look menacing. Though it's hard to look menacing when you're only two feet long, and your eyes are large enough to take up most of your face. I pull a piece of steak out of a pouch I started wearing when we assigned the dragon as a guardian, and gently feed it to him. Peleus snaps up the meat then nuzzles my hand, licking my fingers for any more.
"Sorry little guy," I chuckle softly. "that's all I brought right now."
As if he can understand me, the infant dragon spits out a tiny ember of fire and curls around Thalia's Pine, directly under the Fleece. Looking at the tree just reminds me of the miraculous event that transpired not eight days ago. Thalia's Pine had been poisoned by Luke Castellan, after he had betrayed the Gods and Hercules had alerted me to the traitor, after Luke stabbed him in the thigh. Hercules had spent nine days in the infirmary, far longer than necessary, demanding attention and sympathy from all the other campers. The thought of that particular demigod makes my blood boil, and I grind my teeth in frustration. The son of Poseidon is terrible, just terrible, in every way.
He can't fight to save his life, he has absolutely no skill with his godly powers, and his ego has grown to rival Zeus' in sheer magnitude. The worst part is that one of the most promising heroes I've trained in years, Annabeth, has a large crush on him. Honestly, how can a daughter of Athena be so stupid when it comes to choosing boyfriend material?
I need to stop thinking about this. I breathe deeply, staring at the knot in the tree where eight days ago, after Hercules and Annabeth had recovered the Golden Fleece to restore the camp's border, Thalia, daughter of Zeus herself, had emerged from the tree. The magical properties of the Fleece were greater than anything I could have ever dreamed of. I was overjoyed the girl was back, of course. It is always sad whenever a demigod dies. But still, her life has not exactly been pleasant since she came back...
Her mother passed away a few years ago, her only family, besides her father Zeus of course, which hardly counts. She has missed out on the last seven years of the world, and the poor girl got confused by some of the technology that had advanced since then. Honestly, she freaked out when she saw an iPhone for the first time. And the other campers weren't exactly making it easy on her. Since she had appeared along with Luke, some campers thought she might be a spy as well, and others were just jealous of the power she wielded. That pompous Hercules was the most jealous of all; apparently not being the only child of the Big Three anymore got on his nerves. She puts on a brave face in front of others, but the last three nights I swear I have heard quiet sobbing from Cabin 1.
Finding out that her closest friend Luke was a traitor, finding out her mother was dead, and having her only other friend Annabeth spending most of her time fawning over the one causing her the most trouble...
Honestly, I could see exactly why she was trying so hard to seem strong.
My mind can't help but drift back to the young demigod I met a few months ago, during our solstice visit to Mt. Olympus. What was his name again-Perseus? Yes, Perseus. He was so polite and soft-spoken, though I could practically feel the power rolling off of him in waves. He would never act as crudely as Hercules, or any of his thuggish groupies, I'm sure of it. He obviously was someone important; he held the title of Ghost King, something Hades has not seen fit to give to any demigod before, not even his own children. I also noticed his sandals, obviously from Hermes. And gossip from after the meeting spoke about a demigod who the Olympians felt strongly about, one way or the other.
Mr. D was rather mute on that point, however...
Still gazing out into the mortal world, I start to turn away when something catches my eye on the horizon. Narrowing my eyes, I catch sight of something gold approaching the camp borders very quickly. As I stare, the shape grows closer, resolving into the form of a person running forwards with long, even strides, moving fast enough to kick up clouds of dust on the dirt road. When the figure reaches the foot of the hill, he stops and stretches out his back. It is obviously a boy, from his physique. He is very muscular, and his white shirt isn't loose enough to hide that fact. A small necklace with a flash of red and green hangs from his neck. A bronze colored hoodie with the hood pulled up catches the light and shines, giving him an aura of gold. His blue jeans are worn, and he is wearing a pair of archaic sandals. A backpack is slung over his shoulder, so patched it is impossible to tell what color it should be. A bow is also slung across his torso, the string cutting in to his chest as the body of the bow rests across his back. As he slowly walks up the hill, I get a better look at him. Now that he isn't running, I notice his right leg is very stiff, and he walks with a limp. He's not very tall, only about 5'5". A heavy gold bracelet is dangling from his right hand, while his left hand is covered by a golden gauntlet. He looks like a normal, stuck-up, pampered demigod, but his stride is one of a humble man, eyes lowered but with careful, certain steps. I'm not sure who he is, and from his speed and physique I can tell he would be a powerful warrior. I quietly draw my bow and loosely notch an arrow.
As the unknown warrior reaches the top of the hill, he seems to notice me standing there. I tense, subconsciously preparing to fight, but instead I'm surprised when he bows deeply.
"Master Chiron. It is an honor to see you again." His voice is surprising; it is very soft, and quiet, while still holding a tone of calm power.
"Do I... know you?" I ask, lowering my bow. He seems not to be a threat; he isn't even armed, and it would take him a second to ready his bow. He doesn't even have a quiver.
"We met, briefly, on Mt. Olympus last Winter Solstice."
"Wait a moment... Perseus?"
"I'm honored you remember someone as inconsequential as me, master." He says with a chuckle. "Perseus Jackson, reporting for camp."
Perseus flips back his hood, revealing his face. Short black hair wrapped in a halo of raven flames. A strong, proud face, with two large scars marring each side and a crooked nose offsetting what would probably have been a very handsome visage, topped with a tired smile. His eyes the same mixture of swirling golden flames and sea green. Though the gold seems to have expanded just a little since I last saw him. He looks tired, but content, as if he doesn't want to be here but has accepted it as his fate.
"You seemed like such a nice young man, you stuck in my memory. I'm glad to finally see you in camp. Do you know if your godly parent will claim you, Perseus?"
"Yes, he will."
"Good. Come along, I'll show you around while we wait for you to be claimed."
My mood having been brightened considerably, I happily lead young Perseus into the camp proper, waving to the few campers I see running about. Perseus walks slowly, leaving a respectful space between us, while still keeping up. I decide to try some small talk, learn some more about this odd young demigod.
"So Perseus, I see you carry only a bow with you? Is archery your preferred fighting style?"
The boy laughs softly. "No, Master Chiron, it is simply the only weapon of mine that doesn't condense down. I asked Apollo why, and I believe his exact words were, 'Dude, how can we deny the world the view of my awesome old training bow? It's not like you can lose it or anything, just suck it up and carry it proudly.'"
"That bow belonged to Lord Apollo?"
"Yes. It was his training bow, from when he and Lady Artemis were still training on the island of Delos as children. He gave it to me as a gift for finishing my archery training, along with his blessing."
I am amazed Apollo, who is a little arrogant I can admit, would give up something that valuable to a demigod that was not his own. I'm even more surprised that Apollo would give archery lessons to anyone. "What other weapons do you carry then, if they're hidden?"
Perseus calmly snaps his right wrist out, and a stream of golden fire flows from his grip. The fire solidifies into the form of a gleaming golden khopesh, around two feet long and razor sharp. I can see the ancient Greek characters on the blade spelling out the word τιμή: Timí̱. Honor.
A good name for a weapon wielded by such a proud warrior. Perseus swings his curved sword in a quick series of swirling motions before it reverts to golden fire and coils into a bracelet on his right wrist. He then raises his left hand, the one encased in a golden gauntlet, and a large round shield grows forth from the wrist. It sinks back in after a minute. Lastly, he taps his belt buckle, shaped like an eight-pointed star, and three long throwing knives appear on his waist. He draws them and throws them in rapid succession at a rock nearby, splitting it into shards. Another tap of his buckle and the knives return to his waist, where he leaves them on display.
"I am also skilled in hand to hand combat, and spear work. Though I have yet to find a good spear for my strength. They all end up shattering."
I am shocked, and impressed, by the brief display of skills this young warrior has shown me.
"Where did you learn those skills?"
"From a few of your old students: Achilles, Odysseus, Theseus, Perseus, and Bellerophontes. Lord Hades was very kind, and allowed them to teach me their skills a few years ago. They left after I could best them all in their preferred forms of combat."
"You... you defeated five of the greatest heroes to ever live, with their own weapon styles?"
"They were trained by the greatest teacher to ever live; some of it must have rubbed off."
"Flattery will get you nowhere in life, Perseus."
"It was not flattery. Just a fact."
I can't help but smile at the praise. We approach the Blue House, and I can see Mr. D sitting at our usual table, playing pinochle with three invisible hands. As we step up onto the porch, he looks around to inspect the intruders on his match. His tiger-striped Hawaiian shirt hangs loosely on him, and his red nose is ruddier than usual; his game must be going badly. He turns his bloodshot blue eyes to look at Perseus, and his eyebrows shoot up into his curly purple-black hair.
"Well, well, if it isn't the Council's new Golden Boy." Dionysus drawls. The emphasis he puts on the words 'golden boy' must mean something to Perseus, because he stiffens for a moment before bowing.
"Lord Dionysus. It is a pleasure to see you again. I have a gift, from my father. I think he wanted me to try and bribe you into acting nicely." Perseus digs around in his backpack for a moment before pulling out a large green-glass bottle, stoppered with a cork and tied with a red ribbon. "Here we are. A bottle of 1921 Dom Peringon champagne."
I can see Dionysus start drooling at the sight of the bottle as he reaches for it. But Perseus pulls it back.
"He also said not to say anything about him, because he wants it to be a surprise. If you don't say anything, he said he'll make sure Zeus won't know about this one, whatever that means."
"Fine, fine, Patrick, I'll keep my trap shut. Just hand it over!"
"It's Perseus. And here you go." Perseus passes the bottle to Dionysus, who eagerly cradles it to his chest like a baby.
I have no idea who Perseus' father might be, but if he can keep Zeus from knowing about Dionysus breaking his sobriety then he must be pretty powerful. I think Mr. D must know who he is, or else he wouldn't have bothered promising not to say anything about him.
"Well, that was an interesting conversation, old friend. I'll just show Perseus the rest of camp, then."
Mr. D just waves us off, staring hungrily at the bottle in his hands.
I explain the setup of camp to Perseus, and while most new campers seem distraught at the somewhat strict security measures, he seems to really take it all in stride, as if he's prepared for it. Which he might be, seeing as how he was raised by a god not known for his generosity. Honestly, how the boy turned out so peaceful and kind being raised by Malcyrion is beyond me. As we approach the more populated areas of camp, Perseus starts to get some strange looks from the campers. It might be his golden outfit, which is still very bright in the direct sunlight. It might just be the sight of a new camper so obviously prepared for the life of a demigod. And unfortunately it might be, and most likely is, the fact that he is crippled and disfigured. When he reaches up to adjust his backpack strap I can't help but notice a few deep scars on the back of his hand. Now that he is walking right beside me, I can see that his necklace is actually a sprig of holly, held within a circle of gold.
"Where did you get that necklace, Perseus?"
"It was a birthday gift from my sister. Cut from her own tree."
"Her own tree...?"
"My sister Ilex is a dryad. She was adopted by my father when she was just a sapling."
"Perseus, if you don't mind me asking, how do you know your father at all? On Olympus Malcyrion said that you had no idea who your parent was, and that he had raised you."
Perseus rubs the back of his neck sheepishly. "That... wasn't Malcyrion. That was my father. He wanted to go in disguise before revealing me to the Council. Thought it would be funny."
I just shake my head. I'm older than most of the gods, so I know how immature they can be, but still.
"Ah. Well, here we are at the cabins." I gesture to the giant U shape the buildings make, in a mock setup of their own thrones. "Since you haven't been claimed yet, you will be staying in Hermes' cabin. Though hopefully your father will claim you soon; it is rather crowded in there."
I lead Perseus up the steps towards Hermes' cabin. The brown paint on the rickety building is starting to peel again, and the caduceus over the door has come askew. I sigh at the poor state of the cabin, but knock anyway. After a minute, I knock again, louder. I hear a crash, followed by a stream of high pitched laughter. The door bursts open and a pair of boys shoot out of the cabin, laughing and looking behind their shoulders. They barrel into me, and crash to the ground, before looking up to see what they've crashed into. The boy on the left has long, curly brown hair hanging over mischievous blue eyes and a crooked grin, before he realizes who it is he's hit, at which point it disappears into a nervous smile. The boy to my right is a mirror image of the one on my left, though he is a bit taller and lankier.
"Connor. Travis. Just the boys I wanted to see. This is Perseus, our newest arrival. He'll be staying with you for a while, until his father claims him. Hopefully it won't be more than few hours, at dinner."
The twins get to their feet and dust themselves off before holding out their hands for Perseus to shake.
"Hey, Perseus. Nice to meetcha', I'm Travis Stoll." The taller boy introduces himself, enthusiastically pumping Perseus' hand.
"Hey, I'm Connor Stoll." The shorter boy pulls Perseus into a quick hug before pulling back, smirking. I know what they're doing, but before I can scold them, Perseus speaks up.
"My bracelet and wallet will return to me in about five minutes no matter what, but if you two would like your wallets back, I'd ask you to return them now." Perseus holds up his hand, which has a pair of wallets clutched in its grip, one black leather and the other a yellow Velcro with a caduceus on it.
"How-?"
"What-?
The Stoll brothers look shocked, and I can't help but chuckle. The pair hand over Perseus' golden chain bracelet and a black cloth wallet with a silver skull embroidered on it, still looking confused. Perseus rolls his eyes before handing over the wallets.
"Please. I've spent enough time with your father to notice when someone picks my pocket, thank you very much. Though that was a very nice variation on the Rio Watch Slip, Travis. I could barely feel you slipping my bracelet off. Your pinky twitched, that's what gave it away."
The brothers look towards Perseus, then back at each other, before looking back at the young demigod and breaking into large smiles.
"I can already tell we're going to be great friends." Travis says, laying his arm around Perseus' shoulders and steering him into the cabin.
"We'll get him settled in, Chiron. We'll see you at dinner, alright?" Connor asks, shooting the new demigod a bright smile.
Perseus breaks away from the pair for a moment to turn to me and bows again.
"Thank you for showing me around, Master Chiron. I will see you at dinner."
"Goodbye, Perseus." I wave and walk away, hearing the Stolls already plotting some new prank with the help of their new friend.
As I leave, Perseus speaks so softly I think I must imagine his voice saying, "Goodbye, uncle."
Dinner is loud and noisy, as is usual for the first few weeks of summer, when the new campers are still settling in. I look over the dining pavilion from the head table, and take in the scene of the twelve tables surrounding the central brazier. The view of the sea is very peaceful on top of the hill, and the sky is perfectly clear tonight. The nymphs have set out all of the food already, and most have retired to resting against the columns surrounding the pavilion, or sitting at the Dionysus table. I do a quick survey of the usual trouble-maker tables; the Ares table, covered in cuts and burns marring the tablecloth, where all the cabinmates are roaring in laughter, most likely at the story of some unfortunate warrior's downfall. The Apollo table is unusually silent today, the bright and cheerful children of the sun seeming oddly at peace; I'm not complaining, though. Aphrodite's table has almost no food on it, as all the available space is taken up by makeup containers, hair brushes, and romance novels. The children of the Love Goddess are huddled together, gossiping, most likely.
As my gaze shifts over Poseidon's table, I can't help the frown that crosses my face. There should only be one person sitting there, but once again Hercules feels that he should get special privileges. That second quest of his didn't help his ego, after all. I see Annabeth, her blond hair pulled into its perpetual ponytail, leaning against Hercules, fluttering her eyelashes in the most blatant attempt at flirting I've ever seen since Aphrodite went after Adonis. The other bench of the table is filled with Hercules' followers, mostly Ares campers who like his thickheaded nature and love of cruelty. And, of course, the only person supposed to be at the table, Hercules Christopoulos.
The son of Poseidon is very tall for his young age of fourteen, almost six feet. He is muscular, but in the bloated, slightly disturbing way. His skin is olive colored, showing his pure Greek heritage. His black hair looks greasy and hangs lank in his face. Eyes a dirty, muddy green are set into a thick face, with a large, square, cleft chin and boxy cheekbones. He is laughing loudly at something, probably a joke he told himself. I can't believe this excuse for a demigod shares the blood of Theseus and Bellerophontes. Honestly, Theseus was such a brilliant tactical genius Athena herself liked him enough to have a brainchild with him, and Bellerophontes managed to tame the immortal Pegasus and slay the Chimera barehanded.
Hercules, in comparison, couldn't plan his way out of an open box, and all pegasi hate him after he slapped one for bucking him off. And fighting-wise? He can barely hold his sword, Riptide, properly; that blade deserves much more than to be wielded by such a terrible hero. I still can't believe Poseidon gave it to him.
I look over to the only other occupied table of the Big Three. Thalia is sitting alone, picking at her food. The daughter of Zeus has her spiky black hair loose and hanging to her neck. She is wearing a black, studded leather punk jacket over her Camp Half-Blood t-shirt, and her thick silver bracelet glints faintly. If she were looking up I would see her electric blue eyes and the splash of freckles across her nose, but she is staring at her food. I sigh internally with sympathy for the poor girl.
Finally I turn my gaze towards the most chaotic of the tables. The Hermes table is overflowing, which is the norm. A plank of wood has been tacked onto one end, and five more seats have been added using crates, a stool and a stump. Even with the decidedly ugly additions there is no spare place to sit at the table.
As I think this a little girl, no more than eight and surprisingly small for her age, with curly brown hair and blue eyes slowly walks up to the table. There is nowhere to sit, and none of the others seem to notice her standing there. I remember her; Gwendolyn, but she likes Gwen better. Her mother passed a few weeks ago and she was brought in from the streets by a satyr today, which is why such a young demigod was at camp full time. Even from all the way back here I can see her eyes start to water. Before I can do anything, one of the campers sees her and stands up from his place on the end of the table.
I recognize Perseus; he has left his bow and bag at the cabin, and has swapped out his white shirt for an orange Camp Half-Blood one under his golden hoodie. He turns and crouches down to be on the same level as the girl, placing a hand on her shoulder and talking to her. She nods rapidly, still crying, though not as much. After a few more words are exchanged, she smiles up at him. He wipes the tears from her face before lifting her up and setting her in his recently vacated seat. He waves over a nymph, who brings a plate to the new arrival. Once the girl is smiling and eating, talking with her brothers and sisters, Perseus sinks to the floor by her seat, leaning against the table, balancing his plate on his knees.
I can't believe my eyes. That had to have been one of the kindest, most caring things I've seen in years, especially with how the demigods have been acting since Hercules showed up. Whoever his godly parent is, they have sired one of the most impressive demigods I've ever seen.
I keep my eyes on Perseus for the rest of the dinner. He stays on the floor, his stiff leg stretched out, barely eating. Every few minutes Gwen looks down at him, and he smiles up at her reassuringly. Finally, when there is no one else at the brazier, he slowly rises to his feet and walks over to the sacrificial flames. I can see him speak under his breath, but can't hear him. He scrapes all the food remaining on his plate into the fire, and I count six plumes of colored smoke rising from the flames. Six? He sacrificed to six gods? I don't even bother to hide my curiosity as the boy returns to the ground next to the Hermes table.
Who is this intriguing young demigod? What is his story?
When it looks like most of the campers have finished eating, I rise to my feet -er, hooves.
"Campers." I announce loudly, instantly quieting the assembled demigods. Except for Hercules and his cronies, who keep on laughing like drunken donkeys.
"Campers, silence please!" I say louder. A few of them quiet down, but Hercules himself keeps on guffawing. Suddenly another voice rings out into the silence.
"Chiron is speaking, you deranged hyena. I think you should show a little respect for your elders."
Perseus' voice is soft, but carries well through the quiet area. Before Hercules can snap out a retort, I speak into the short opening.
"Once again, the day has come to an end, and we welcome to camp four new arrivals! First let us welcome Siobhan McLaughlin, daughter of Aphrodite." I gesture to Aphrodite's table, where a slim girl with braided brown hair, deep green eyes and a splash of freckles across her face stands and waves. The Blessing of Aphrodite is still affecting her, giving her a glamorous aura in her white dress.
"We also welcome Marcus Fairview, son of Apollo." A short boy with sandy blond hair stands up from Apollo's table, waving to the other campers. Apollo's claiming has left the boy with a deep, even tan, and his smile has a sunny glow to it.
"Gwendolyn Arietta, daughter of Hermes." The little girl looks self-conscious, until Perseus gently squeezes her shaking hand. She stands up and gives a halfhearted wave to the rest of camp.
"And finally, Perseus Jackson, as of yet unclaimed." Perseus gets to his feet, stumbling just a tiny bit on his stiff leg, before giving a brief wave. As he lowers himself to the ground again, I hear a snort from the Poseidon table.
"Probably hasn't been claimed yet because he's a cripple." Everyone turns to stare at Hercules, smirking stupidly. "Honestly, the guy's uglier than Hephaestus." I can see Charles Beckendorf, furious, try to get to his feet as he is literally held back by his siblings. Before he can say anything, Perseus speaks out again.
"Don't speak ill of Lord Hephaestus, boy. You'll be lucky to ever contribute half of a fraction of what he has given to the world in your pathetic life."
Hercules' face turns red as a few campers giggle, and the Hephaestus table looks over to Perseus in admiration and gratitude.
"You- you, do you have any idea who my father is, punk?" Hercules stutters.
"Punk? Seriously? That's the best you can do? Well, that crosses off any god good with words from the list."
"I am Hercules, son of Poseidon! I am the best hero to ever live!"
"Hmmph. I didn't see that coming. I thought you would end up being a son of Priapus, seeing as how you're acting like such a huge-" Before Perseus can finish his vulgar, though admittedly clever, sentence, a flash of sea green light floods the pavilion, and I catch a whiff of salty, sea breeze. When the light fades, Poseidon is standing in the center of the pavilion, right next to his table. I descend from the head table, Dionysus begrudgingly following me.
"Lord Poseidon, it is an honor. To what do we owe this unexpected visit?"
"He's here to smite that stupid cripple for insulting us, right dad?" Hercules steps up and stands at Poseidon's shoulder, grinning evilly at Perseus, who hasn't even acknowledged the Sea God's presence.
"No, actually, I'm not." Poseidon says slowly, glancing at his son as if in a new light. He walks over to the Hermes table, and sits down to be on the same level as Perseus.
"Lord Poseidon." He greets formally, if coldly.
Poseidon sighs loudly. "Perseus, I know how much you must hate me. But let me at least help you here. You wouldn't have a cabin if he claims you, you would be stuck in Hermes' tiny cabin like the child of a minor god. By Hades, most of these people don't even know who he is! Let me be your father, if it's only here. Please?"
I can't believe what Poseidon has just said: Perseus is his son? But he and Hercules are polar opposites! How can two people be so different, but be so closely related?
Perseus doesn't answer for a minute. When he does, it isn't an answer. "I've met your son, you know. You must be real proud. He takes after your other boy, Orion, very well."
Poseidon looks like he was just slapped; I know he doesn't like to be reminded of that particular son of his. "Dammit Perseus, I'm doing this whether you want me to or not!"
And with that Poseidon rises to his feet and holds out his hand. His trident appears in his grasp, and he slams it into the ground. Perseus is suddenly encased in a green light. His pale skin turns a deep wind-burnt tan, and his hair goes wild as if a strong breeze has blown through it. His eyes turn pure sea-green, matching Poseidon's in their brilliance and clarity. Lastly, a green hologram in the form of a trident appears over Perseus' head.
Poseidon steps back, looking smug. "All hail Perseus Jackson, son of Poseidon, the Earth-shaker, the Storm-bringer, the God of the Sea."
Perseus looks furious as he stands up, the trident still visible. He glares at Poseidon, before speaking softly. "I am no son of yours, Sea God. My father knew you'd pull something like this. So he waited for you to show up. He'll be here in right... about... NOW."
Suddenly we all see a bright golden light in the sky. A falling star glows brightly, getting slowly brighter as it gets closer and closer, finally getting so bright we all have to close our eyes. When the light fades, another god is standing in the pavilion. One I haven't seen in over two thousand years.
He is golden; golden hair, bronze skin, solid gold eyes. He is wearing a long robe of golden fabric, embroidered with images of battles won, heroes aided, foes slain and adventures had. His golden wings are angelic and beautiful, spreading at least ten feet from wingtip to wingtip. He looks coldly at Poseidon, who seems to shrink back from the golden god's gaze.
"Well, little brother, it seems that you still seem to think you have some claim to Percy." He waves his hand, and all signs of Poseidon's influence desert Perseus. "He is my son, not yours. I will claim him, not you." He points at Perseus and a beam of solid gold light connects his outstretched finger with Perseus' forehead. Perseus glows for a moment, before revealing a golden eight-pointed star hovering over his head. A pair of holographic golden wings spread forth from his back, smaller than his father's. His eyes glow pure gold, like tiny suns.
"All hail Perseus Jackson, son of Aurelius the Golden; God of Energy and Power, Precursor of Olympus, Balance of the Gods."
Perseus stands and walks over to Aurelius, and hugs him. "Thanks, dad."
"Any time, my boy. Now, I must be getting home. Ilex isn't feeling well."
"She shouldn't play in the snow without a coat. Still, give her my best." Aurelius smiles and ruffles Perseus' hair before disappearing in a flash of golden light. Poseidon is still standing there, looking uncomfortable. He turns to Perseus, still glowing with Aurelius' light. He sighs, then turns to me and Dionysus.
"He is to be given the same respect as Hercules. Anything that is mine shall be available to him, understood?"
"Yes, Lord Poseidon."
"Sure thing."
"But, daaadd..." Hercules whines to Poseidon. "I won't share anything with that loser. Look at him! He's a mockery of what it means to be a demigod!"
"ENOUGH!" Poseidon shouts at his son. "He will be given your respect, understood?"
Hercules just grumbles under his breath and sulks back over to his table. Poseidon gives one last look towards Perseus. "I'm sorry." He turns into a cloud of sea mist and vanishes. Perseus turns to match the assembled groups wide-eyed stares.
"Well, that was rather exhausting. I think I'll turn in now. Good night, everyone." He bows to the assembled campers and walks away from the dining pavilion. The entire area is silent for a moment, until we all hear the crack of Mr. D opening another can of Diet Coke.
"Well, that was interesting." He says with a smirk.
Percy's POV
That was easily the most embarrassing moment of my life. Still, I knew it would happen pretty much like that. Though Hercules was even more of a dick than I could have thought possible. As I walk away from the dining pavilion, I can hear the murmuring of the campers start up again. They're almost certainly talking about me.
I approach the horseshoe of cabins. I see that someone has already moved my stuff. My bag and bow are leaning up against the door of Cabin 3. There is no way in Hades I'm staying in the same building as that arrogant prick. I gather up my bow and my bag and walk out of the camp proper into the woods. I suppose that if I asked, Hermes or Apollo would let me stay in their cabins. Hera might even let me stay in hers, though I'd rather not bother the Queen of the Gods with something so petty. The woods around camp are very peaceful. I can set up my sleeping bag somewhere around here, if the nymphs don't mind.
After walking for around ten minutes, I stumble across a small clearing, set far enough away from the main body of camp that I'm sure no one will bother me. The area has a few trees in the actual clearing, and a small pond is fed by a large trickle, practically a waterfall, coming out of a split rock formation. I step into the clearing and set my bag down in the center.
"Hello? May I speak with the nymphs of this clearing?" I ask respectfully. After a few minutes of silence, I hear a sigh that could be mistaken for the breeze rustling through the trees.
"Another stupid demigod come to try and seduce us." Says a feminine voice akin to tree branches shaking.
"And this one isn't even that handsome." Says another, sounding like grass whispering in the breeze.
"At least he asked to speak with us nicely." A third voice, much like water trickling, says.
Two petite dryads step out of a willow tree and a juniper tree, while an unusually tall nereid climbs out of the pond. Having spent the past seven years of my life practically surrounded by nymphs, I'm a little surprised at their outfits. Nymphs usually wear little to no clothing, and what they do wear is usually made from their host plants, or their domain areas for nymphs not bound to trees. Apparently being around mortal campers for the past however-long-they've-been-here has influenced their dressing styles. Instead of wearing grass skirts and chains of flowers, like most of the dryads I've met, these two are dressed like teenagers. Both of them are wearing tank-tops, one blue and one green. The one with the green shirt is wearing a pair of cutoff jean shorts, and the one wearing the blue shirt is wearing a long white skirt. The nereid is wearing a navy blue one-piece bathing suit, which I admit is much more modest than the seashell bikinis most nereids wear.
The dryad with the green tank top steps forward. Her skin is a very pale nut-brown, and her green eyes partner with her long brunette hair nicely. "Who are you, demigod?"
I bow to the nymphs. "I am Perseus Jackson. Might I know whom I am addressing?"
The nereid giggles at that, and the nymph in front of me blushes green. "I'm Juniper. That's Willow." She gestures to the other dryad, whose skin is a slightly darker shade of brown but her eyes are brighter green. Her hair is braided with willow fronds. "And that is Lily." The nereid smiles and waves at me. Her skin is pale with a slightly blue tinge to it, her eyes are a deep clear blue, and her long hair is black and loose. As she waves I notice her hands are slightly webbed, and I can see the faint outlines of gills on her throat.
"What are you doing here than, Perseus?" Juniper asks, in a slightly kinder tone. "Please tell us you're not here to try and flirt with us. It's getting really old."
"While you three are indeed visions of beauty, no, sadly I am not here to flirt with you." All three blush at that.
"Good. Some of the others are getting out of control, to be honest. It's starting to get a little scary."
I frown at that; nymphs are pretty tough. What could the campers be doing to scare them?
"What's happening around here?"
Juniper looks at her feet, scuffing her heel in the dirt. "It's mostly that bastard of Poseidon's, Hercules. Him and his band of thugs keep trying to hit on us. Last week was the worst..." I see her shiver and hold her arms around her torso at the memory, and I instinctively pull her into a comforting hug.
"It's okay. You don't have to tell me, if you don't want to."
She looks shocked at the sudden contact, but after a second she leans into my hug. "It was Hercules. I was sitting on a stump, talking with a naiad who lives in a river a few miles from here. I heard a twig snap, and when I looked over there was Hercules. He and his little clique keep pestering us all to make out, and they've all been getting worse lately. I asked him what he wanted, and he grabbed my shoulders and tried to kiss me. I scratched his eyes and he dropped me, so I started running for my tree here. He started chasing me, and when I was just over that hill back there, I tripped on a rock. He grabbed me, and ripped my shirt off. He started to take his pants off, but I managed to kick him right between his legs. While he was doubled over I made it back to my tree. I didn't come out for three days." She has started sniffling.
I am furious- no, beyond furious. "What the hell is wrong with this place? Does Dionysus know what's happening to the nymphs under his protection around here? Or does that drunken bastard really care that little?"
"Why do you care, Perseus? Most demigods don't give a rat's ass about us. We're just the ones who serve the meals and keep the forest in good shape." Willow asks sadly.
"My father raised me to be honorable, and to care about what happens to others. The thought of people like that just walking around, with no repercussions coming, it makes me want to cut him to pieces where he stands." I growl. "I swear that that bastard will pay for that."
"Your father raised a good kid, then." Lily says after a brief pause. "Who is he?"
"Aurelius." The nymphs stiffen, and I swear I could hear a pin drop in the clearing. Juniper steps back from my hug looking at me nervously.
"Au-Aurelius the Golden?" Lily asks.
"The God of Power, Precursor of Olympus?" Willow asks, stunned.
"The King of Nymphs?" Juniper chokes out. Suddenly all three drop to their knees in a formal bow. "Your majesty," they all say.
"Um, what are you doing?" I ask, confused. "Are we talking about the same Aurelius here?"
Juniper looks at me confused. "Is your father a tall, golden man with wings and a calm, kindly nature that makes you happy just to be in the same room as him?"
"Yeah, that's a pretty good description, actually. But he's never mentioned being the King of Nymphs before. Are you sure?"
Willow walks forward and pulls me to the ground; soon we're all sitting. "You're his adopted son, am I correct?"
"Yes. Why?"
"Because King Aurelius swore to himself never to have another child or fall in love again after Her Majesty died two thousand years ago."
Here's a chance to learn about my father's past that I just can't pass up. "I've never heard his history before. Please, tell me the story."
Willow clears her throat, before starting her story.
"Two thousand years ago or so, there lived Flora, daughter of Demeter and Pan, Queen of the Nymphs. She was strange from birth; she was not an immortal like her godly parents, she was the purest incarnation of nymphhood, and shared our form of immortality. She was beautiful beyond compare, even more so than Aphrodite some say, with long, silver-green hair, pale silken skin and emerald eyes that held all the love of nature. She was wanted by every god who saw her, but she wished to save her maidenhood until she found her soul-mate. One day she was sleeping in a meadow, and Zeus in the form of an eagle saw her lying there, as beautiful as the sunrise. He swooped down, and was going to take her then and there. Flora awoke at the eagle's cry, and was terrified she was going to be ravaged by the King of the Gods. But before he could land, a lance of golden light struck him and knocked him out of the sky. Aurelius appeared in a rage, for he had seen what Zeus planned to do to Flora. He thoroughly thrashed Zeus, and sent him running home to Olympus dripping ichor. Aurelius took Flora to his palace, to hide her from the jealous eyes of his younger brother. For a year and a day she stayed as his honored guest. Throughout that time she fell in love with his compassion and honor, and he fell in love with her kindness and beautiful soul. When the year ended, they went to Hera, who married the pair herself.
For ten years they knew peace beyond measure, and their joy doubled when Flora found herself to be with child. But throughout all this time, Zeus kept his jealousy. When the time came for Flora to give birth, Zeus detained Eileithyia, the Goddess of Childbirth, and forced Thanatos, God of Death, to go in her stead, in disguise. By the time Aurelius realized the deception, it was too late. His wife was dead, and their child stillborn. Since Flora was a nymph, she had no true soul, and he couldn't get Hades to restore her. Their child was never really born, and so also bore no soul to be recovered. In his fury, Aurelius ripped Thanatos' wings off with his bare hands and scattered their pieces across the world. It took twenty years for him to recover his wings again. Aurelius stormed to Olympus, and took his revenge on Zeus."
"What did he do to him?" I ask.
"It depends on the tale. In some, he cut off one of Zeus'... you know." She gestures to her groin, and I can't help but wince. "In another, he stole Hera away and made her fall in love with him, stealing her heart away from him. In a third, he slew each and every child of Zeus to walk the world, even the immortal ones, and kept it up for eleven years and a day, for the amount of time he spent with Flora. To be honest, I think he did all three. But the end was still the same: he had lost the love of his life. He swore to himself he would never fall in love again, and that he would never father a child again, out of grief for the family ripped from him. Ever since, he has been the King of Nymphs, since he married our Queen, and we do everything we can to ease the pain he carries within his heart."
I sit in silence after hearing the story. This explains a lot, actually. The reason why there are so many nymphs around the palace, why my father always carries a slight air of sadness, the numerous references to something in my father's past that would keep him from having children. I shake my head of the memories.
"Alright then. But, why would you call me Your Majesty?"
Willow chuckles at me; probably at my stupidity. "You're his son. That makes you the Prince of Nymphs, dork."
"Fine. But please, don't call me Lord, or Sir or Your Majesty. I get enough of that crap in the Underworld. Just, call me Perseus. Please."
Juniper stands up and helps me to my feet. "Okay, Perseus it is. So, what are you doing here, anyway? Did you want to see us specifically?"
"Actually, I was hoping I could stay in this clearing. My, uh, sire Poseidon says I am to stay in his cabin, but if I spend more than five minutes in the same room as that bastard Hercules I'll end up ripping his head off."
"Fair enough. Sure, I guess you can stay here."
"Of course he can!" Lily interjects. "He's our prince, isn't he? Come on, let's shape things up a little bit." The nereid raises her hands, and her pond overflows, washing away all the scattered forest debris in the clearing. Juniper shakes her head at Lily's actions, but also raises her hands. Willow joins in using her nature magic on the surrounding plant life.
When the nymphs are done, the clearing has changed. A small copse of branching trees near the pond has grown into an overhang, with plenty enough space for a bed underneath. A bush has twisted around to form a stack of shelves, and a fallen log has shifted into a sitting couch. A curtain of ivy surrounds a new waterfall, forming a private shower.
"We're not making you a bathroom. You can use the one in camp" Juniper says, smirking. I can't fight the slight heat that rises to my face, causing the nymphs to laugh in their delicate voices. I interrupt their giggling by pulling them into a group hug.
"Thank you for this kindness. I am grateful, truly, to not have to go back to that idiotic excuse for a hero's cabin."
The nymphs are all blushing now. Sometimes I forget that most of them, despite being hundreds of years old, still prefer to act like teenage girls. I walk over to the bush shelves, placing my bag on the top most shelf after pulling out my sleeping bag. I set my bow on top of the bush, then set out my sleeping bag under the overhanging branches. I crawl under the covers, and stare up at the few stars I can see through the patchy branches. The sounds of the woods fill the air, and act as a beautiful lullaby.
"Goodnight Juniper, goodnight Willow, goodnight Lily. Thank you again for this."
As I start to drift off I hear the nymphs respond softly together. "Goodnight, Perseus. Sweet dreams, oh Prince of Nymphs."
A beam of early morning sunlight hits my eyes and wakes me up. I'm too comfortable to get up, so I try and turn away from the light. As I turn I bump into something soft and warm, that wriggles when I come in contact with it. I open my eyes to stare into the face of a sleeping Lily, who has curled up next to me, still sleeping peacefully. Since, oddly enough, this is not the first time I've ever woken up to find a random nymph sleeping next to me (they're weird creatures), I don't panic. That's not to say I don't almost yell out, but I manage to hold it in. Instead, I gently reach out and shake her shoulder.
"Lily. Lily, wake up." I say, softly but firmly. The nereid wakes up slowly, blinking her brilliant sapphire eyes until they focus on me. Her eyes widen instantly, and she blushes an almost purple shade of deep blue. "Oh gods! I-I thought I'd wake up before you did and leave... I'm so sorry! Please, don't hate me!" She stumbles away from me as she is speaking, and stands nervously outside of the overhang. I slowly stretch myself out, and stand up to approach her.
"I don't hate you, Lily. But would you mind explaining to me exactly what you were doing?"
"Um..." She stares at her bare feet, drawing a line in the dirt with her toe. "You were just so nice yesterday, and you look so cute when you're sleeping, and I just wanted to cuddle against you, and I really planned to leave before you woke up, and now you're going to make fun of me and tell Juniper and Willow, and I'll never live that down, and-"
"Lily. Stop." I cut off her rambling. "Where are Juniper and Willow now?"
"They went off to tell all the nymphs that our prince is here." She says miserably, avoiding my gaze.
I sigh, and walk forward until I'm not three inches away from her. I gently take hold of her chin and raise her head to look me in the eyes.
"Lily. I'm not angry, I don't hate you, and I won't tell Juniper or Willow."
"Why not? I mean, it was kind of rude... and creepy, I mean, I acted like freaking a stalker! How are you being so cool? Hell, why are you being so nice?"
"Because you didn't mean any harm, did you? No harm, no foul, I believe the mortals say. I might be a little rusty in that department, I admit. You didn't hurt me, you weren't trying to make me uncomfortable or unhappy, so there's nothing wrong. And I won't tell Juniper or Willow; I know how long nymphs can hold on to a good piece of blackmail, trust me. Are we good?"
Lily doesn't answer. She just steps forward and hugs me tightly, tucking her head against mine. Dammit, why am I so short? After two minutes or so, she pulls away.
"Feel better?" I ask kindly.
She nods, then grabs my face with her soft, webbed hands. Before I can say anything, she pecks her head forward and kisses me. I stiffen, before I feel myself softly kissing her back, gently placing my hands on her hips. It's not a passionate kiss or anything like that; just a nice, innocent, pleasant kiss. Her lips are as soft as beach sand, and when she pulls away after a moment my lips taste of sea salt.
"Wh-what was that for?" I ask incredulously.
"For being the nicest demigod I've ever met." Lily says sheepishly, her cheeks violet again with her blush. Before I can respond she dashes off into the forest, most likely to help spread the word that the Nymph Prince is in Camp Half-Blood.
I shake my head loose from the realization I just had my first kiss stolen by a sweet, pretty nereid named Lily, and head towards my new waterfall/shower.
After washing up I put on another orange t-shirt under my bronze hoodie, and a pair of tan khaki pants; it's warm out, but the temperature never bothers me. I think it's due to wearing a deathly cold crown for so long. Besides, I never wear shorts or leave my arms uncovered. Too many scars show...
Judging by the amount of light, it's almost eight o'clock. I should start heading for camp. If I run as fast as I can, I'd be there in the blink of an eye. But I decide to walk instead, learning the path to my clearing. When I can see the camp through the last few trees, I step out of the woods only to have a large cloud of flowers and grass confetti thrown over me.
"Hail Prince Perseus!" A few dozen nymphs chorus, smiling at me and laughing as they dance around me. "Hail Perseus, the Prince of Nymphs!" I'm sure my cheeks are burning hot enough to ignite the flowers drifting through the air as they settle against my skin. I can see a few campers staring at the spectacle, some laughing while others look more curious. After a few minutes, I manage to convince the nymphs to let me pass. They all insist on hugging me, though. I never realized how big nymphs were on the whole displays of affection thing. I ignore the chortles of campers as I make my way to the Big House.
Chiron is on the deck with that daughter of Athena I met at the solstice meeting. What was her name, Annie? Ann? Annabeth! That's it. He appears to be scolding her, and I can hear his frustration as she looks at the ground.
"-I know that your mother would be outraged at your behavior right now, Annabeth. Anyone can see what kind of a person he is. Honestly it's men like him that give Artemis' Hunters a reason to exist in the first place! Please, think about what I've said, okay dear?"
Annabeth just nods glumly, brushing past my shoulder as she walks away. The immortal centaur sighs and looks up at me before a small grin spreads across his tired features.
"Hello Perseus. I was afraid you'd run off last night. No one could find you, and you weren't in the Poseidon Cabin."
"Poseidon isn't my father, so it made no sense to stay in his cabin, Master Chiron." I explain calmly.
"Please, don't call me master. It's just Chiron. Now, where were you last night?"
"I was staying in a clearing in the woods. A trio of nymphs let me stay in their area, and gave me a shelter for as long as I desire. Which leads me to a discussion I must have with you."
"And what is that?" His voice has become more guarded at my accusation near the end of my speech.
"Hercules. I heard from my dryad friend Juniper that he tried to rape her last week. Why does he still draw breath?"
The centaur sighs and looks away ashamed. "I wanted to kick him out of camp. Honestly, even Dionysus wanted to turn him into a mad dolphin and feed him to a shark. But Lord Poseidon stepped in and demanded we look the other way for just this once. He had a conversation with him, but I am sure it did very little. If it happens again we have permission to toss him from the camp."
My hatred for Poseidon has been rekindled tenfold. "If it happens again, I'll kill him. No one touches my nymphs."
Chiron raises a bushy eyebrow. "Your nymphs?"
I flush a little, but hold my ground. "Yes, my nymphs. I am the Prince of Nymphs, and they are my subjects. I just wanted it to be known that they need to be treated better. You hear that Poseidon? If your bastard of a son tries that again I'll have his head!" I say loudly to the sky. The perfectly calm sky darkens immediately as a storm brews over the weather shield surrounding camp. I scoff at the childish display of power before turning back to Chiron, who has an amused look on his face.
"Other than that, I wanted to know what I should be doing."
"Well... you are your own cabin, since Aurelius does deserve his own. You are the only one in the Aurelius Cabin, so I'm sure that you could join in on any activity that peaks your interest. Breakfast is in about ten minutes, you'll hear the conch horn. Lunch and dinner are at noon and six, respectively. Between then, find something to occupy yourself, I suppose."
"Alright, Chiron. I guess I'll see you later."
I walk away from the centaur and meander around the campgrounds. I decide to just head to the dining pavilion, and take a look at all the different buildings on my way there. As I walk along the path, I can still hear a few of the campers laughing at my welcome by the nymphs. I can't blame the nymphs, though. They mean well.
Suddenly I feel a surge of power from my right. I can't control power and energy like my father (it's too dangerous a power to give to a demigod), but he gave me the ability to sense it wherever I go. And I just felt a huge surge of it from the patch of trees off the trail. I quietly make my way over to where the surge came from, and I can smell... ozone? Walking even closer I suddenly hear voices.
"Aww come on Thalia. You're Zeus' kid aren't you? Don't you just want to jump everything that breathes?" I recognize the voice. It's arrogant, slow and dimwitted. Hercules.
"Leave me the fuck alone, you prick!" A female voice retorts. She sounds furious, but also a tiny bit afraid. I can tell the power came from her. I peak from behind a bush, and feel a cold fury settle in my stomach.
A 14 or 15 year old girl -Thalia, I assume- is backed up against a tree, holding a long spear crackling with electricity. She has spiky black hair and startling blue eyes, set above a freckled button nose. Hercules is standing in front of her, just out of reach of her spear. Two other guys are lying on the ground; one has his hair in a halo of outstretched strands, like he just got electrocuted. The other has a deep gash in his shoulder and a large bruise forming on his temple.
"What's stopping you, tree-whore? Still want that traitor boyfriend of yours? Well, you know, he hurt me pretty badly when he left. And since he isn't here anymore, it looks like you're gonna have to kiss it better for him." He taps part of his thigh, where I assume the wound is.
"I said get lost, you freak. I don't want anything to do with you." Thalia straightens her grip on her spear.
I can't take this anymore. Before Hercules can respond, I will my sandals to sprout their wings, and dash forward as fast as I can.
Thalia's POV
Why can't this idiot take a hint? He pulls me off of the path into the trees, then tries to make a move. I respond by electrocuting his friend there, and stabbing the other one in the shoulder before swinging my spear at his head. And yet, he still keeps coming. And as much as I hate to admit it, I'm a little worried. Hercules is big, really big. His shoes are rubber soled, grounding him, making my lightning a little less effective. He's also strong enough to really mess me up if I'm not careful.
It looks like he's finally had enough after my last refusal. He snarls at me, then takes a menacing step forward. Before I can even raise my spear to strike, I see a blur of gold coming from my right. It slams into Hercules hard enough to send him flying into another tree. The blur skids to a stop, revealing the boy claimed by Aurelius last night. His golden hoodie clashes with the flaming black crown on his head, but they both look amazing. I can see him better than I could last night, so I use the opportunity to study him.
His skin is a pale tan, like he should be darker but has spent a lot of time out of the sun. His hair is short and jet black, settled under his flaming coronet. He looks like he would be very handsome, if not for the two large scars on his face and his messed up nose. His eyes are golden, with a strip of sea-green surrounding the gold. His mouth is curled into a sneer at the fallen son of Poseidon.
"Well, well, well, looks like I get a chance to beat the hell out of you even sooner than I could have hoped." His voice is quiet, but full of anger. Hercules staggers to his feet, his nose bleeding.
"You... you're that stupid punk Perseus my dad says is my brother! There's no way I'm related to a crippled idiot like you."
"Feeling's mutual. Now, leave now before I kill you."
"No way, this traitor bitch needs to be taught a lesson. Get out of here, co cry back to your fruity golden daddy."
Perseus loses all pretense of manners. Before I can register what's happened he's shot forward and has Hercules off the ground, his right hand wrapped around the jackass' neck.
"I said leave." He hisses. "Now. Before I snap your neck like a gods-damned pencil."
He hurls Hercules back towards the main camp, and the arrogant bastard goes flying at least a hundred feet, leaving me alone with this incredibly powerful demigod... who happens to be staring at me intently. Oh shit.
"Um... Back off! I-I don't want to hurt you!" Like I could. He just thoroughly smacked the crap out of the most powerful demigod in camp. While trying to steady myself I only end up falling on my butt. Way to go, Thalia.
"Are you alright, miss?" He asks calmly.
"Um... yeah. Thanks for saving me, I guess. Who... are you again? Sorry, I just don't really remember you."
"It's fine. I'm Perseus, son of Aurelius. You're Thalia, correct?"
"Yeah. How'd you do that anyway? You moved so fast you were a blur."
"My father was very generous with his gifts." He replies simply. "Were you headed for the dining pavilion?" He offers his hand, and gently helps me to my feet. Once I'm standing I take my hand back and rub my arm in discomfort at the situation.
"Yeah, I was until that pigheaded creep pulled me into the trees here."
"Then may I escort you the rest of the way? I would not be much of a gentleman if I just left after helping you."
I blush, and I'm not sure if it's out of anger that he thinks I need his help, or embarrassment at the fact that I kind of did.
"Sure."
We walk out of the woods and back onto the trail. I can see a small crater where I assume Hercules landed, and I can't help the large grin that spreads on my face. When we arrive at the pavilion, I start towards my table when a horde of nymphs crowd around Perseus. They're all giggling and hugging him, if they're close enough. He finally manages to get through them, and they leave to resume serving the campers, giggling over their shoulders at the furiously blushing boy.
"So... what was that about?" I ask, curiously.
He sighs. "My father is King of Nymphs, so I'm technically... the Prince of Nymphs." He grumbles under his breath. "Ever since they found out who I am they keep doing stuff like that."
I can't hold back the laughter that comes pouring from my lips. "That's just awesome. Well, thanks for the help, I guess... See ya' later."
I settle in at my table with a plate of waffles, staring at my food. The slight good mood I was just in at Perseus' expense has faded at seeing the mixed glares the other campers are sending me. Some are hate filled, from the campers who think I'm a traitor spy like- like... Luke. My throat tightens at the thought of my old friend. Others are full of envy; mostly from those who are jealous of my lightning powers, or of me being Zeus' daughter. Like it's such an honor; the only thing it's gotten me is chased by monsters and seven years in a tree. While lost in my own thoughts, I feel a presence settle on the bench opposite me. Assuming it's Hercules again, I scowl and look up into the golden eyes of Perseus.
"You looked lonely. Would you care for some company?" He asks sincerely.
"That would be nice. But my dad probably wouldn't approve of someone not his sitting at his table." I warn him. He just chuckles softly.
"I'll take my chances." He smiles at me, and I can't help but smile back.
We talk for the entirety of breakfast.
I learn about his life since he was adopted by the God of Power; his training, both in combat and education, under Aurelius; his sister Ilex (it sounds like I'd like her); meeting our Uncle Hades, though I doubt he'd let me call him uncle; his time spent helping Hermes deliver packages; training with Apollo; all the adventures he's had since he was seven. Though he doesn't want to talk about his life before being adopted by Aurelius. I don't pressure him.
In turn, I tell him about my life. My mother, a fading TV actress, who caught the attention of Zeus. How my mother was an abusive alcoholic, who often remarked that she wished I was never born. Running away at nine and being found by... Luke. Us traveling for three years before we found Annabeth, and headed for camp after Grover found us. Then about being turned into a tree for seven years by Zeus, who was trying to 'save' me from the legion of monsters chasing us.
"Yeah, not much to tell after that. I only came out of the tree eight days ago, and I've been trying to adjust to the world. It hasn't really been easy." I admit. I'm staring down again, before I feel a warm, strong hand reach over to grasp mine comfortingly. Perseus looks at me in sympathy, but not pity, for which I'm grateful.
"You have had a tough life. But the past is past, and can only hurt us if we let it. We must always look to the future, for it is only there that we can find happiness." He says softly.
"Wow. Where did that come form?"
"It is what my father told me, many years ago, when I suffered from terrible nightmares. It helped me then, and I hope it can help you now."
"It does." I say, using my free hand to try and wipe away some tears before they fall. Breakfast is over, so we get up to leave. On our way out someone steps in front of us. I stifle a groan at the sight of Hercules. He glares at me, but turns to Perseus instead. I can't help but feel a sense of satisfaction at the sight of his scraped and bloody face.
"You got lucky earlier, cripple. In a real fight I'd destroy you! And your bitch girlfriend."
"Care to test that theory?" Perseus asks calmly. He protectively places his arm around me, and instead of annoyance at the possessive action, I feel comforted by the weight of his gold encased hand on my shoulder. "Perhaps a one-on-one battle? All weapons and powers allowed?"
Hercules looks shocked someone would so blatantly challenge him. "Swordfighting Arena. Fifteen minutes. Don't chicken out." He growls before storming off.
"This will be fun." Perseus says, smirking.
"You didn't have to do that." I say as we walk forward, his arm still around me. "He may be a pompous asshole, but he's the strongest demigod in camp. He could beat the stuffing out of you if you're not careful."
"He can't hurt me. I say that not out of arrogance, but fact. He literally can't hurt me." He just smirks at my look of confusion. "Plus, he insulted my family. No one insults my family."
"Oh yeah, he said something bad about your father, didn't he?"
"Yes. He also insulted and harassed my cousin, which I will not stand for."
It takes me a minute to remember when a cousin of his would be insulted by Hercules, when it hits me. "Me? You barely know me, why would you care what he says to me?"
"Because you are my family, and I would do anything for family."
I'm touched by his concern. He removes his hand from my shoulder, but before I can even register the loss of the comforting presence he takes my hand and starts to lead me towards the arena.
"Come on. We don't want to be late, else the big baby might run off."
I chuckle at that. Word spreads fast around here, so I'm not very surprised that a crowd has appeared to fill the stands of the arena. I can see Hercules standing with his little group of thugs, getting ready for the fight. He is piling on armor, and making some comment that causes the others to break out laughing nastily. I can't help but feel saddened to see Annabeth laughing right along with them, leaning on Hercules' shoulder. Does she even know how much of a bastard he really is?
I get nervous when I see Mr. D enter the arena, worried he might call off the fight. But he just shoots a small smirk at Perseus, before scowling at Hercules. He summons a tall backed chair covered in grape vines in an empty space in the stands, and settles in to watch the fight. Percy just walks over to where a few Hermes campers are settled in. He stops before the twin head councilors of the cabin.
"Connor, Travis. What are the numbers?" He asks.
"We've all agreed upon there being a 20 to 1 chance of him knocking you out in five minutes. But there are a few nymphs who have betted very favorably upon you winning, so there's that."
Perseus nods as if the news isn't unexpected. "Good. I'll put thirty drachma on myself." He pulls out a black cloth wallet with a silver skull on it and reaches into it. He pulls out a handful of gold coins and presses them into the Stolls' waiting hands. "Hey, can I ask a favor? This is my cousin Thalia. Keep an eye on her, alright?" The twins nod, and I sit down in the crowd of Hermes campers. Perseus grins at me, then starts down the steps towards the arena.
"Good luck, Percy!" I call out to him. I realize he might not like having a nickname, but he just waves back to me. I see him enter the arena, and stand at one end. He isn't getting any weapons out, or putting on any armor. What is he thinking?...
Percy's POV
I'm a little surprised it doesn't bother me when Thalia called me Percy. I've only known her for the past hour or so. But she seems like such a nice girl, and I feel kind of sorry for her. I'm not blind; I can see how the rest of the camp treats her.
I shake my head to focus on my 'opponent', who is currently strapping on enough armor to make it almost impossible to move. When he's done, that girl Annabeth pecks him on the cheek before he slams his helmet down over his head, brushing her aside. Seems I was wrong about that girl. She looked intelligent enough when we first met, but if she's fawning over that idiot then she's definitely not as bright as I expected.
Hercules marches over until we are both facing each other on either side of the arena's sand floor. Dionysus stands from his impromptu throne and addresses us.
"So, it looks like Perry Johannes and Hershey Christopherson here want to fight for some stupid reason or another. I'm not sure why, but it'll be exciting and I'm bored. So name the rules, Peter." The God of Wine drones.
"The battle is to surrender. All weapons and all godly gifts and abilities are fair game." I say calmly, just loud enough to have my voice carry to him.
"Do you accept the terms, Harry?" Dionysus asks Hercules. The son of Poseidon turns red in anger at Dionysus' tone, but nods fiercely.
"Good. Begin!"
Hercules reaches into his pocket and pulls out a pen. When he clicks the pen, it elongates into a three foot long celestial bronze Grecian longsword. Most people think that magical weapons are never changing, supposed to be indestructible and eternally ready for use, but they're wrong. A magical weapon is a reflection of its' wielder's soul. That's why evil guys always seem to have awesome and dangerous looking weapons. Just by looking at the state of the sword he's holding, I feel bad for it, and know that Hercules is just as terrible as I thought. The blade is dull and grimy, pitted and cracked. The crossguard is actually drooping, like it's melting. The leather wrapped around the handle is decaying and falling off. My keen vision picks out a string of characters spelling out Anaklusmos on the blade.
Riptide.
Not surprising for a son of Poseidon, but feeling the energy within the blade I can tell the sword is ancient, and is made form energies similar to that of Pleione, ancient goddess of the sea. This sword is a pure and honorable weapon, and Hercules doesn't deserve to wield it.
"How about we make this a little more interesting?" I ask Hercules as he approaches.
"What, want to back out already?" He mocks.
"No. If I win, I get your sword. If you win, you get mine." I hold out my right hand, and Honor swirls into my hand in a flash of golden fire. As I grew, so did my sword. The khopesh's blade is longer now, approaching three feet. The handle is now long enough to grasp with both hands if I wished, but the sword is still light enough to use with one hand.
"What do you say?" I ask mockingly.
"I'll snap your bent-up sword over my knee when I win it." Hercules snarls as he rushes me, officially starting the battle.
I easily sidestep him, twirling out of the way so he goes flying past me.
"Ole!" I can't help but shout, bringing a burst of laughter from the stands. Hercules growls and tries to do a quick turn, but his heavy armor slows him down. I dash forward without using the sandals, just my natural speed; which is still pretty quick, admittedly. I knock my shoulder into him, sending him sprawling. He awkwardly gets up, then tears off the outer layer of armor to give him some more mobility. He runs at me again, swinging his sword like an idiot. I don't even bother parrying the blows; I just duck and dodge the wild strikes. He's getting angry, and his strikes are becoming even more unpredictably pathetic. Finally I hit his sword with mine, jerking it out of his grasp. Riptide clutters to the floor. I don't press my advantage; I just gesture to his fallen sword.
"Pick it up. We're not done yet."
He growls at me, and picks up his sword. He rushes at me, and aims a strike at my head. I don't move, and just when the blade is about to strike my temple, I raise Honor as fast as a bullet, and Riptide slides along the curved edge of my sword to hit Hercules' hip. He howls in pain as the edge of the sword buried itself into the band of muscle just above his waist. Hercules yanks Riptide free, stepping back warily, favoring his injured side. I decide I'm done playing now. I rush him, and start hammering away with Honor's outer edge. He can't even begin to block half of my blows, and soon he is covered in red lines dripping blood- I know how to pull my punches enough not to kill him. He staggers backwards, and finds his back against the wall of the arena. Suddenly he smirks at me.
"Well, here's something I know I can do to beat you, you stupid cripple." Hercules dives to the side to avoid my overhand chop, landing in a trough of water. He surfaces grinning and dry, his wounds already on the mend. He pushes his hands forward, and a weak wall of water surges towards me. I scoff, and flick my left hand. The water splits around me, leaving me completely dry as the wave crashes into a large puddle surrounding the two of us.
"You want to use powers now, eh boy? Well, let me show you what you should be able to do, if you weren't such an arrogant asshole."
I raise both of my hands, and the water surrounding us starts to swirl and gather around me as I feel a tug in my stomach. Soon the crashing, twisting waves form a column of rapid water beneath me, lifting me at least ten feet in the air. I stare down at Hercules, who is trembling on the arena floor. I jump off of the tower of water, and plummet to the ground. I stomp when I land, forcing both feet a few inches into the ground, sending off a shockwave of small earthquakes, raising parts of the ground and lowering others, knocking Hercules to the floor. When the water tower collapses I lift myself up, floating above the flooded arena floor with my sandals, as I hover above Hercules groaning frame. I kneel down in mid-air, holding Honor's edge to his throat.
"Do you yield? Please say no, I really like beating you up."
"Fine... you win, you... bastard." He coughs out. I reach down and pry Riptide form his numb fingers. As if accepting a new owner, the sword returns to pen form. I click it, and the sword that springs forth is not the pitiful weapon Hercules wielded not five minutes ago. The metal is now highly polished and flawless, the razor edge gleaming in the light. Anaklusmos is pronounced loudly and proudly along the blade's groove. The crossguard is straight and proud, the handle wrapped tightly in sturdy brown leather. I click a small button on the pommel, and the sword reverts to pen form. I slip it in my pocket, and walk back towards the stands. They're speechless for a moment, but suddenly they all burst out cheering.
I get swarmed by people, and see a large group advance on the Stoll brothers, and I don't need to be close to see all the money changing hands right now. Thalia forces her way through the crowd, and manages to find her way before me, grinning like a fool.
"That was awesome! Oh gods, you were incredible, did he even land a single hit on you?"
"No, he was too busy waving his sword around like a toddler to really try and hit me. Did you enjoy the show?"
"Of course I did. I've wanted to see that jackass get what he deserves ever since I met him." She comes closer and gives me a hug, which I return after a surprised moment. Taking in all the surrounding cheers of the campers, my new popularity with the nymphs, and my new friend Thalia, I'm pretty sure I'm gonna like it here.
(5 Months Later)
I carefully pick up a tiny golden gear, and gently slot it into the mass of wires, gears and rune-engraved metal on the bench before me. I look up for conformation that I've put the pieces together correctly, and Beckendorf gives me a nod of approval. The Hephaestus cabin took a great liking to me after I defended their father my first night here. I use a lot of my pretty much blank schedule to spend time learning how to make things with them. And Charles Beckendorf, the cabin leader, is a really nice guy. Over the past five months I'd like to say we've become friends.
Since my rather eventful first few days, I've fallen into a pretty nice schedule here. I wake up at 7 o'clock in my clearing, sometimes having to move Lily, who still occasionally curls up next to me while I'm sleeping (as I said before, nymphs are weird). I shower and get dressed, then eat breakfast with Thalia. We eat together at all meals, actually. I can say without a doubt she's my best friend, after spending five months hanging out together. Actually... I kind of have a crush on her. It might be wishful thinking, but I think she might feel the same way. She's so incredible; she's smart, nice, bad-ass, pretty, everything someone could ever want.
In the mornings after breakfast I'll train in the arena, sparring with anyone who wants to. That's how I met Clarisse La Rue, a daughter of Ares. She's a lot more intelligent than I could ever expect a child of that particular god to be, and she's a very skilled warrior. From what she's said, she actually played a big role in the quest to reclaim the Golden Fleece, but Hercules stole most of her thunder. I like her; she's feisty, a lot like Thalia. Though Clarisse isn't above trying to beat the snot out of me if I say something she doesn't agree with. After sword training, I'll hit the archery range. There I made another friend in Will Solace, son of Apollo. He looks a lot like the pretty-boy form the Sun God takes whenever we hang out. He's pretty nice. Then lunch rolls along, and after that I'll usually come to 'Arts & Crafts'. Though why they gave a building housing an industrial furnace and enough raw materials to make an entire army of automatons the 'Arts & Crafts' building is beyond me. That's where I am now, building an automaton under the helpful eye of the Hephaestus cabin.
"I think that should do it." Beckendorf says in his deep bass grumble. "It just needs to be set in its casing."
"Great. I've been working on this damned thing for three months; about time it's done." I reply, happy to be finally done with it. I carefully pick up the inner mechanics of my automaton and gently place them within the frame I constructed earlier. The frame was the easy part; crafting all the feathers out of gold and silver. There is some cobalt, treated to bring out the blue color. Some oxidized copper, polished to shine while remaining green as well. The eyes made out of polished amber, shone enough to sparkle. I affix the mechanism into the metal frame, and retighten the metal skin to hide the openings. When the machine is completely done, I take a step back and look over my work with pride.
Sitting on the cluttered workbench is a mechanical peacock.
It's smaller than a real one, only about a half-foot long, with another foot for its tail feathers. The main body is gold and silver, with the tail feathers having the oxidized copper and cobalt, almost matching a real peacock in color. There is some color around the wings and neck, to give it definition. I wake the creature up by stroking its platinum beak. Brilliant spheres of amber blink open, and the tiny mechanical bird chirps out a greeting. I pick him up, and thank Beckendorf for all his help before setting off.
I approach Cabin 2 in the great circle of cabins.
Hera's Cabin.
I carefully open the door and enter the temple-esque cabin. Since Hera has no children, there are no beds around. The only things in the room are a large statue of Hera, looking distant and coldly beautiful, and a large brazier in front of the statue. I carefully approach the sacrificial flame and kneel before it.
"Lady Hera, Queen of Olympus, it is your nephew, Perseus. I wish to thank you for the kindness you showed to me during the council meeting last December. I have been sacrificing to you along with the rest of my family, but I thought..." I lick my lips, nervous to actually voice my thoughts aloud. "I realized that you have never had a demigod child, and that many demigods fear you for some reason. I realized you probably have never received a proper sacrifice. And so, to voice my thanks and to show my appreciation, I offer to you a golden peacock, your sacred animal." I lower my automaton into the flames gently, before pulling my hands back. Instead of burning or melting, the peacock vanishes in a soft glow of white light. I smile; the sacrifice has been accepted.
"That was very kind of you, Percy." A feminine voice says.
I look up and lock eyes with the hazel orbs of Queen Hera, who is perched on the rim of the suddenly dark brazier. She has taken a more mortal form today, as opposed to her obviously divine form at the council meeting. She is wearing a loose white sleeveless tunic over a pair of jeans that reach to just below her knees. She is wearing the same sandals as at the meeting, which wrap up to her knees. The same golden bands circle her biceps, and a few bracelets hang from her wrists. Her chocolate brown hair is loose around her shoulders today, but still has a golden ribbon tied into it. She is holding my peacock to her chest like a child.
"Tell me, what is such a generous gesture for?" She asks softly, stroking the automaton's metal feathers.
"For the kindness you showed me last December." I explain, then blush a little. "You were just so... kind, and motherly. I wanted to show my thanks."
Hera smiles at me. "You seemed so sad and lost there. It felt good to be able, at least for a little while, to act like a real mother."
"What do you mean? Don't you have children of your own, Lady Hera?"
Hera sighs sadly. "I have godly children. They grow to adulthood in a matter of months. Their childhoods only lasted a few days, so I had no real chance to be a mother. I'm a lousy one, anyway." Hera slides off the brazier to sit against the edge of it on the floor. I resettle myself, sitting with my legs curled underneath me a few inches across from her.
"You have such a caring nature, though. You seem like you'd be a wonderful mother."
Hera scoffs, petting the mechanical peacock softly. "My children all hate me. Enyo and Ares turned out to be monsters, I can't even look at them anymore. Eileithyia, Hebe and Hephaestus all hate me, and with good reason. I'm the Goddess of Family, and mine all hate me."
I am shocked to see the Queen of the Gods breaking down like this. I don't really think about what I'm doing, but I suddenly find myself sitting besides the goddess, rubbing her back like she did for me when I was upset at the meeting.
"You're their mother, I doubt they really hate you." I say softly, trying to help calm her.
"Yes they do. And they have every reason to." Hera sniffs out, clutching the peacock close to her chest. "I didn't protect them, like a mother is supposed to do. I just stood aside when Zeus forced Hebe to marry that monster Heracles. I never threw Hephaestus off of Olympus either, did you know that? Zeus did that; he refused to believe he could father something so ugly. But I didn't stop him from tossing my baby boy off the mountain. Eileithyia was my favorite daughter, but one day I... I just lost it. I yelled at her, horribly, for constantly letting Zeus' demigods be born. She was a lonely goddess, and I was the only one she really loved, and I said such horrible things to her for just doing her job." Hera starts to cry softly, silent sobs making her shoulders shake. I pull her into a hug, and she keeps softly crying into my shirt. I toss the thoughts that point out how insanely absurd it is that I'm comforting a crying goddess. Eventually she manages to stop crying, and leans back against the brazier, and she gives me a grateful smile.
"Thank you Percy. For being so supportive, for the peacock, for the offerings... for everything. No one has sacrificed to me since Jason, all those years ago."
"You are deserving of offerings, Lady Hera. You're so different than what many of the myths portray you to be. According to them, you're a heartless monster who goes around killing demigods for being born out of wedlock by your cheating husband."
Hera looks saddened once more. "They're right. I... I have done terrible things to demigods over the years. It's just... I'm the Goddess of Marriage. I'm the one who is the most faithful of all the gods, the one who will never stray. And my husband has more illegitimate children than any other god in history. Over half the Olympian Council is made up of his children, and only two of them are mine. It just gets to me, after a while..."
"But why punish the demigods?" I ask.
"What do you mean?"
"I do not think that the demigods wish to be born into a world where their scent will draw monsters to them without pause. I do not believe that they would choose to be born to a godly parent who, no offense, is the lousiest parent on Olympus. The demigods don't choose to be born to a cheating god. Why punish them for it?"
Hera stares at her lap. "I know that, deep down. I really do. But after so many thousands of years of cheating... I just can't stand seeing his bastards walking around, like there are no repercussions for his cheating. I feel like it might be because of me. Am I the reason he keeps looking for other women? Am I not good enough?"
I think I may be hanging around Thalia and Clarisse too much, because what I do next is classic them:
I slap Hera.
Just enough to get her attention, of course. Before she can even register what I did I gently but firmly take hold of her shoulders and make her face me.
"Don't think like that, okay? Don't ever think like that. Zeus is the one who is to blame here, not you. He is the cheating bastard who doesn't realize he has a perfect wife. While I do not approve of what you've done to demigods in the past, I understand that you must be furious with having to put up with all that crap for century after century. I don't blame you for being angry, but never think that you are the problem, okay?"
Hera looks shocked, and for a brief moment I'm very, very thankful no one can kill me thanks to my Blessing. But then she grabs me and pulls me into a tight hug. My cheeks are wet, and I realize Hera has started crying again.
"Thank you Percy. No one has ever been so understanding before. It feels good to be able to talk to someone." She smiles at me, but it quickly turns into a glare. "And while I understand that you only did that to shake me out of my self loathing, never slap me again. Understood?"
I gulp nervously. "O-of course, Lady Hera."
She just smiles at me again, and we sit against the brazier in a comfortable silence, the only sound that of the peacock chirping as Hera pets it. Suddenly I hear a metallic clink, and look over at Hera, who looks on the brink of tears again. She is staring at a gold ring on her left ring finger, which has snapped. As I watch the ring repairs itself, but Hera still looks miserable.
"What was that?" I ask curiously.
"Whenever Zeus breaks his vows of faithfulness, my ring breaks, only to repair itself again. He just slept with another woman."
I just start rubbing her back again.
"Why did you ever marry that jerk in the first place?" I ask, angry at my uncle for causing such a sweet woman such grief.
"Out of shame." She whispers.
"What?"
Hera sighs. "Shortly after we overthrew our father, Kronos, Zeus came on to me. I rebuffed his advances. A few days later I found an abandoned baby bird in the forest, featherless and freezing. I took the poor creature to my chest and ran home to try and care for it. When I came to an empty clearing with no one around, the bird started to grow. Soon the bird turned into Zeus, who took me by surprise. He knocked me to the ground and he..." Hera's eyes water at the memory. I pull her into a comforting embrace. "When he was done... doing that to me, he teleported me to his palace, where I found a wedding ring and all my things. I was the Goddess of Marriage. To lose my maidenhood to someone other than my husband would be the ultimate dishonor, so I married Zeus to hide my shame."
"Why not leave him?"
"I can't. Goddess of Marriage, remember? If I divorced him it would destroy my reputation and tear Olympus apart. I tried to love him, to make it work. But I just can't."
"So it's better to be stuck in a loveless marriage then to be happy? No one should be forced into something like that. You're Hera, Queen of Olympus. You deserve to be happy, with or without him. If you really want to stay with him, make him change. Any relationship is a partnership, and if he wants to keep yours going he needs to understand that." I tell her calmly, leaving no room in my voice to book an argument.
"You're a good soul, Percy. Thank you for being here for me. I'll think about what you said." We resume our comfortable silence for awhile.
After some time, she reaches out to take my gold-encased hand.
"Tell me, why do you always wear this gauntlet, Percy?"
"My hand is mangled beyond use. The gauntlet makes it work right." I explain hesitantly.
"May I see it?"
I hesitate before willing the armor to retreat into the bracer. My fingers curl in on themselves again, and my thumb stiffens against my ring finger.
"Why hasn't your father healed this?" Hera asks, gently holding my hand.
"He is not very skilled in healing wounds. And this was a very severe injury, which occurred long ago."
"Well, I have a pretty good knack with this sort of thing." Hera says kindly. She raises my hand to her lips and gently kisses the palm of my hand. I feel a wave of cool energy wash over my entire arm, filling the tendons and veins that support my hand. A stronger feeling fills my fingers, and before my eyes I see them uncurl and straighten out. When the feeling has faded, I hold my hand up to my face and look over it in wonder. For the first time in nine years, I can move my hand completely on my own. While examining my hand, I notice something on my palm, right where Hera kissed it.
A small tattoo, shaped like a lotus blossom, sits in the center of my hand.
"What is this for, Lady Hera?" I ask, rubbing the tattoo with my thumb.
"A gift, a weapon worthy of my favorite demigod. Will it to grow, Perseus." Hers responds softly.
I focus on the tattoo and will it to grow and change, like I do with the rest of my weapons. There is an incredibly odd, itchy feeling, then I see wood start to grow out of my palm. The thin shaft of wood grows out to a length of six feet. It is made out of willow wood, and is carved with images of curling vines covered in lotus blossoms. At one end the wood encases itself in a butt of Olympian Silver, the same material Lady Artemis uses in her arrows. The other end of the staff- no, a spear I realize, grows a long leaf-shaped blade. The blade is made of Olympian Silver as well, but most of the spear blade is painted in enamel, creating a flawless image of a peacock feather.
"This spear was once wielded by my daughter Enyo, but when I realized what a monstrous creature she truly was I took it back. It is indestructible, and will always return to your hand if thrown. Wield it well, Percy." I stare at the spear and will it back into my tattoo. It itches like crazy going back in.
"Thank you, so much, Lady Hera. You are so kind, it saddens me to hear how you have been treated for so long."
"We are family, Percy. Please just call me Hera. I don't want you to feel afraid or too formal around me."
"Thank you, Hera." I look out one of the windows and I'm shocked to see stars in a black sky. It's nightfall; we've been talking for hours. As if sensing my thoughts, Hera conjures a soft blanket and tucks it around me like a mother would for her child. She pulls a pillow out of thin air and tucks it behind my head.
"Rest, Percy. You are safe here, and I will watch over you." She leans over and kisses my forehead as I start to drift off. She just gives off such a loving, motherly vibe that I barely register what I say as I fall asleep.
"Goodnight, mom. I love you."
I fall asleep before I see a large smile spread across her face, and tears of loving joy form in her eyes.
A/N: FINALLY. Holy crap, that took forever. I kept rewriting the Thalia and Hera parts, cause I just couldn't get the right feel to it. So in this chapter he finally makes it to Camp Half-Blood. We see him make some friends with the other campers, including (well, especially) Thalia. We learn some more of Aurelius' mysterious history, and get some Percy/Hera mother/son bonding time. I like Hera; she gets all the crap in most stories. That myth, of Zeus turning into a flightless bird to rape Hera, is an actual myth by the way. So she was forced into marrying him. Also, most if not all of you hate Hercules. Good. I want you to hate him, because that's why I made him.
So, there's chapter 3, hope you liked it. Next chapter actually splices into the canon storyline with the Titan's Curse, so that'll be fun. Please remember to leave a review! Thanks.
