Disclaimer: I do not own Percy Jackson and the Olympians or Heroes of Olympus. There is some dialogue in this chapter taken from 'The Titan's Curse', but this text has been italicized, and I do not claim to own any of this text. It all belongs to the beautiful mind of Rick Riordan. Additionally, I don't own the song that inspired the story title, 'Kidz', by Take That, or the song that inspired the chapter title, 'Sparks Fly' by Taylor Swift. Yes, my taste in music is in fact quite eclectic.
Story Title: Uphill and Against the Wind
Summary: A series of encounters over the years leave Percy Jackson desperately in love with Apollo, the Sun God, but when Hera switches her with Jason Grace, Percy is left in New Rome with only the vague memory of a boy that almost seems to glow gold. Fem!Percy
Rated: M, for language, and later in the story, lemons
AN: Okay, so in chapter 2 I said that Percy was 13, but she's supposed to be 14, so I've changed that. Also, a guest reviewer asked if Percy and Apollo are going to be 'dating' in this story. I very much doubt that 'dating' is the right word for it, but you'll definitely see them together in a romantic capacity, without a single doubt.
You guys! You're all so awesome! Thank you so much for giving this story the time of day!
.:~{+}~:.
III: Those Green Eyes
.:~{+}~:.
Get me with those green eyes, baby,
As the lights go down,
Give me something that'll haunt me when you're not around,
Cause I see sparks fly whenever you smile
-Sparks Fly, by Taylor Swift
.:~{+}~:.
She would've expected there to be a deep-rooted shock at the fact that Clotho seemed to have seen fit to bind her to a God other than her father. She would've expected to be distracted in her quest by this discovery that her life thread was inexplicably tied to the Sun God. She would've expected to feel the need to rebel against the seemingly foregone conclusion that Apollo would be a main fixture in her life.
But she didn't feel any of that. There was no shock, only a sense of discovery, as though uncovering something that had always been there from the very beginning. She was not distracted in her quest, but rather she felt motivated. She had to survive this, and find out how and why he was her destiny. There was no need to rebel, but instead a sense of relief, as though her soul now understood the path it was intended to walk, despite the fact that she'd never felt lost before this realization.
It felt like this was the way that things were supposed to be.
.:~{+}~:.
It was cold. That kind of cold that seems to slice through all the layers you bundle yourself in and cuts right down to the quivering bone. Percy pulled her new lion's fur coat closer. The rail yard looked discouragingly abandoned, with rows upon rows upon rows of freight cars piled high with what looked like years' worth of snow.
Percy saw him before the others did. A homeless man warming himself at a trashcan fire. She frowned slightly at the odd urge she felt to go to him. Like an invisible string attempting to tug her closer.
He smiled a toothless grin when the others noticed him. "Y'all need to get warmed up? Come on over!"
The others seemed hesitant, but Percy found herself walking over, packed snow crunching beneath her feet. They followed quickly, lured by the warmth of the dancing flames. Only the fire almost seemed too hot to be a normal fire. It was like it radiated the heat of the sun. She brushed it off. She'd obviously been thinking too much about the fact that Apollo was, apparently, her destiny.
"Maybe we should contact camp," Bianca said.
"No. They cannot help us anymore. We must finish this quest ourselves." Zoë responded.
Somewhere far from here, Annabeth was in danger. The Goddess of the Moon was in chains and from the looks of it, there were no trains. They were stuck here in this freezing cold rail yard, reduced to sharing a homeless person's fire.
"You know," the homeless person said, just as Percy's thoughts became dark, "you're never completely without friends. You kids need a train going West?"
There was something about that statement, something that struck Percy, made her tilt her head and think, like there was something she should be remembering, but at the moment could not.
"Yes, sir. You know of any?" she asked, unable to stop the lilt of hope in her voice.
He pointed, and suddenly Percy noticed a gleaming freight train, free of snow and looking brand-spanking new. It was an automobile carrier train, with a triple deck. The writing on the side read SUN WEST LINE, and to Percy, it looked just like salvation.
Thalia had started to thank him, but he was gone, and as the cold seeped back into Percy's spine, she saw he'd taken that wonderfully too-hot fire with him.
An hour later, as they rumbled West, she remembered Apollo's voice so vividly it was as if he was sat right next to her.
Ride only goes one way- West
What was it, that that homeless guy had said?
You kids need a train going West?
Percy thought of that strange, invisible tug she'd felt, the need to go to him. She thought of that fire, that searing, far-too-hot fire and the way it had felt so comforting. She thought of the way he'd pointed, and suddenly their train was just there. SUN WEST LINE.
She smiled.
.:~{+}~:.
He materialized into the passenger seat of a Lamborghini. Percy Jackson was curled up in the driver's seat, her jean-clad knees pressed tightly against the steering wheel and her head resting against the window, her breath making white clouds against the glass. Apollo was vaguely aware of the little satyr- Grover- asleep in the backseat, but his attention was on the daughter of Poseidon.
He cheated a little, and used his Godly powers to catch a brief glimpse of what she was thinking. She was afraid to fall asleep, afraid of dreaming of Annabeth, Athena's child. He attempted to stop his lip curling unpleasantly.
He didn't particularly like Athena any more than he liked Hera.
"Oh, don't be afraid of dreams," he said.
She turned her head to look at him then. Her green eyes were as vivid as ever, and piercing. Deep sea-green, a darkness to the color, and yet there was something behind them that made them paradoxically bright. He found himself noticing the way her top and bottom eyelashes caught and tangled briefly each time she blinked because they were so very long. She had a splash of freckles across her nose, likely from sun exposure, and her hair was very dark. A deep black, like spilled ink that twisted and waved wildly down her back, like the rolling of a tempestuous sea, reminding him of some long-forgotten mermaid princess.
Observing her, he remembered the tell-tale tug from earlier, the one that told him that Clotho had seen fit to attach this demigod's life thread to him. Uneasiness bubbled in him. He'd felt that tug before, though never so strongly. The only times that the life string of a mortal had ever tugged against him, they had always signified a future lover.
And his loves were always ill-fated.
How could the Fates tie him to Poseidon's child, of all the demigods? He couldn't even imagine the ramifications of fucking this up. Percy couldn't be like Daphne, who'd been so desperate to escape him, she'd called on Gaia to turn her into a laurel tree. Or like Cassandra, who he'd cursed after she'd promised to be his lover should he give her the gift of prophecy, only to go back on her promise. Or worse, Coronis, who'd been pregnant with his child even as she betrayed him with another man, an act for which he'd killed her in a regrettable fit of rage (though to his credit, he'd saved his son). Poseidon would not stand for his daughter to fall to the tragic fate of loves such as Hyacinthus, who'd been killed in jealousy by Zephyrus, the Western Wind, who'd wanted the boy all to himself.
Immortal though he was, Apollo was sure Poseidon would manage to find a way to make him deeply regret it should anything remotely similar happen to Percy.
"If it weren't for dreams," he continued, "I wouldn't know half the things I know about the future. They're better than Olympus tabloids." Though they had apparently failed to inform him of their connection.
He held up his hands. It was his warning gesture for 'I'm about to come out with a haiku'. He loved seeing everyone around him groan with exasperation whenever he made that gesture. Truthfully, he wouldn't have been so persistent with the poems and the limericks, had they not annoyed those around him so much.
If Artemis knew, she'd call him a child.
"Dreams like a podcast,
Downloading truth in my ears,
They tell me cool stuff"
Percy didn't look annoyed though, merely amused.
"Apollo?" It was a question, but she said it like a statement, as though she'd already known it was him.
He put a finger to his lips mischievously. "I'm incognito. Call me Fred."
A smile curved across pretty red lips, an eyebrow rose and those green eyes sparkled, sharing in his mischief. Something about her expression got him in the gut, and he felt like he was already bringing her to the ruin that his past loves had faced, because he could see quite easily, how he could fall for her in a few years' time, once she was older.
"A God named Fred?" There was a lilt of teasing in her voice, that was almost mockery, though it was not as malicious.
"Eh, well… Zeus insists on certain rules. Hands off, when there's a human quest. Even when something really major is wrong." Which was so damn stupid that Apollo didn't even know how to begin to express his frustration with the rule. "But nobody messes with my baby sister. Nobody."
The look on her face was more intent now, and she shifted in her seat to fully face him.
"Can you help us then?"
"Shh. I already have. Haven't you been looking outside?" He felt a little put out, that she apparently had not noticed the help he'd already given to her.
She soon dispelled that notion, however. "The train. How fast are we moving?"
He chuckled at the eagerness of her expression. A shaft of sunlight flew across her face briefly, and for a fraction of a second, the anticipation in her eyes was set alight, a bright, clear emerald.
"Fast enough. Unfortunately, we're running out of time. It's almost sunset. But I imagine we'll get you across a good chunk of America, at least."
"But where is Artemis?"
He scowled darkly at the fact that he didn't know the answer to that question. He said as much to Percy, who blinked quickly, and, barely fazed, moved onto another question.
"And Annabeth?"
"Oh, you mean that girl you lost? Hmm. I don't know."
He found himself surprised by the flash of irritation that swept across her gaze. He almost wanted to call her out for insolence in the presence of a God, but felt that that would be counterintuitive. It was, after all, her bold rebellion that had first attracted his attention.
She asked about the monster, and Apollo began to feel useless, as he did not know the answer to that question either, but then he triumphantly remembered some information that could be of use to her.
"If you haven't yet found the monster when you reach San Francisco, seek out Nereus, the Old Man of the Sea. He has a long memory and a sharp eye. He has the gift of knowledge sometimes kept obscure from my Oracle."
She looked confused, her dark eyebrows furrowing together. "But it's your Oracle. Can't you tell us what the prophecy means?"
"You might as well ask an artist to explain his art, or ask a poet to explain his poem. It defeats the purpose. The meaning is only clear through the search."
There was a moment of silence in which she eyed him very shrewdly, her gaze suddenly knife-sharp. She stared at him through narrowed green slits, her head tilting in thought.
"In other words, you don't know."
He made a quick attempt to deflect focus off of that statement. It felt like a weakness, somehow, that he did not have nearly as much control over the prophecies the Oracle spoke as others thought he did.
"I have to run. I doubt I can risk helping you again, Percy, but remember what I said! Get some sleep! And when you return, I expect a good haiku about your journey!"
That spark of rebellion was back in those green eyes, and with a snap of Apollo's fingers, she slumped against the seat, fast asleep.
With another click of his fingers, he was gone.
.:~{+}~:.
Percy tried to focus on only Blackjack's wings moving beneath her, instead of focusing on thoughts of how she must be insane, or suicidal, or both. No child of Poseidon should ever spend this much time in the sky, much less with so much rumbling, roiling thunder and quick licks of deadly, beautiful lightning.
Then they came to Olympus, and Percy relaxed even as the incredible scent of jasmine and roses and everything that was good in the world. Winter was a non-issue on Olympus, torch and firelight glowing brightly through early-morning darkness painting the mountainside twenty different colors, from blood red to indigo. Music drifted to her ears, the sounds of Ancient Greece, lyres and reed pipes singing to the open air.
And at the very top of the mountain was the white hall of the Gods, glowing in all its holiness.
The pegasi let her, Annabeth and Thalia down in front of the silver gates, and Percy was startled when they opened of their own accord. Anxiety built up inside her. She'd never seen all of the Gods at once, and she knew a lot of them didn't like her. Talk about being at risk of getting vaporized…
Side by side, the three girls began the trek to the throne room.
The thrones were enormous, twelve of them making a U-shape around a central hearth, their placement reflecting the layout of Camp Half-Blood. Constellations sparkled brilliantly above them, and Percy was briefly distracted by Zoë making her way across the heavens, bow in hand. Melancholy rose in her, but she ignored it, for now.
The Gods and Goddesses were, of course, nothing short of intimidating. For one, they had declined to shrink down to human size, so they were all about fifteen feet tall. It didn't help that they all turned as one to observe the trio of demigods.
"Welcome, heroes," Artemis said, but Percy's attention was quickly diverted from the Goddess she'd saved.
With a loud "Mooo!" Percy was focused on Bessie and Grover.
Percy felt herself smile fondly at Bessie, who was swimming happily away in a little water-bubble-sphere-thing that Percy didn't know what to call. Grover knelt at Zeus' throne, but any maturity or professionalism that could've been found in the scene was swiftly shattered when Grover called out excitedly upon their appearance.
"You made it!"
As Grover joined them, Percy found herself scanning the faces of the Gods. She felt a modicum of reassurance upon seeing her father's familiar, weathered, suntanned face, a pair of deep, sea-green eyes that she knew very well staring back at her. He gave her the faintest of smiles, and nodded as though to say that everything was going to be okay.
Grover hugged the girls, and as he spun her slightly to the side, she saw her destiny over his shoulder.
Her was staring straight back at her, with blue, blue eyes, so clear and honest-looking that anyone could believe he was the God of Truth, even though she got the feeling that it was more along the lines of him being able to detect lies, rather than preventing him from spewing them. His blond hair was just like sunshine and, again, she felt the urge to touch it, just once, just to see if it was as smooth and soft and silky as it looked.
That's when she realized Grover was talking to her.
"They can't do it!"
She refocused on her satyr friend, confusion crossing her face.
"Do what?"
Artemis slid from her throne and walked towards them, shrinking until she looked like that twelve-year-old girl again, silver shimmering as though she had moonlight itself draped around her.
"The Council has been informed of you deeds. They know that Mount Othrys is rising in the West. They know of Atlas' attempt for freedom, and the gathering armies of Kronos. We have voted to act."
She went on to outline the actions that the Olympians planned to take, explaining that she and Apollo would hunt the most powerful monsters, shooting them down with bow and arrow before they could join the enemy cause, while Percy's father would do everything possible to sink the Princess Andromeda.
She turned to face the other immortals.
"These half-bloods have done Olympus a great service. Would any here deny that?"
Percy carefully analyzed the expressions of the Gods, trying to figure out where they stood, which ones liked her, which ones she needed to watch her back around. She blinked in surprise when Hermes winked at her. Her father hadn't noticed, but Apollo scowled at Hermes, despite the fact that he seemed distracted with a set of earphones in. Then he turned to look at her, and when he gave her a covert thumbs up, she couldn't help returning the gesture with a smile.
"I gotta say," he started, breaking the silence. "these kids did okay." He cleared his throat and did his hands up haiku gesture.
"Heroes win laurels-"
Percy found herself disappointed when he was interrupted by Hermes, who hastily cleared his throat, anxious to avoid Apollo's poetry.
Percy didn't know whether to be frightened, astonished or insulted when the Gods proceeded to have a talk, right there in front of them, about whether or not they should kill her, Thalia and Bessie. After a moment she settled on indignant. When she'd look back on it in the years to come, she was still a bit confused as to how Thalia managed to become a Hunter of Artemis in the middle of that particular conversation, but it happened regardless.
The argument finally ended when her father said in her defense, "I will build an aquarium for the creature here. Hephaestus can help me. The creature will be safe. We shall protect it with our powers. The girl will not betray us. I vouch for this on my honor."
She felt her faith and trust in her father skyrocket at the fact that he was willing to defend her, though she found herself wilting a little at being referred to as 'the girl.'
Zeus appeared to contemplate this course of action for a moment, before looking at the other Olympians and asking, "All in favor?"
Percy felt herself practically quivering in relief when all but three hands went up. She watched as her father's was the first hand in the air, followed closely by Apollo.
"We have a majority," Zeus decreed, looking relieved that that business was over with and nobody had vaporized his daughter. "I suppose we should now honor these heroes. Let the celebration begin!"
.:~{+}~:.
A week later, Apollo found himself in the throne room. He would be the first to admit that it was childish, but he found himself endlessly amused by the antics of the Ophiotaurus. He shook his head and snorted, still unable to believe that Percy had named it Bessie, of all things.
The doors opened with a loud bang, but Apollo didn't look away from the sea creature, happily mooing in his aqua home. Sometimes, Apollo wished his life were so easy and free of responsibility.
He heard footsteps coming towards him, but it was only when Hermes smacked him upside the head with something that Apollo deigned to turn, a loud "HEY!" of protest escaping him.
Hermes laughed, and held out the thing he'd smacked Apollo with. A letter.
"Mind telling me why you're getting mail from Percy Jackson?" Hermes asked.
Apollo looked at the letter in surprise. Sure enough it was from Percy Jackson. Turning to Hermes with a bewildered expression on his face, he shrugged. "I don't know."
Hermes continued to eye him, as though trying to figure out whether or not Apollo was telling the truth. Of course, the only God that could ever really tell whether or not they were being lied to was Apollo himself, and even then he didn't always know for sure, but it didn't stop the others from trying.
Then Hermes shrugged and spun on his heel, apparently deciding he had better things to do. He left, throwing a careless 'whatever' over his shoulder. Apollo was left alone in the throne room.
Alone with the letter.
He quickly ripped into it, greedily sucking up the words on the page like a dry, brittle, dehydrated sponge.
Hey,
Hope you like the poem:
Cold, hungry and lost,
Apollo leading me West,
Here is your haiku
Thanks for the ride West, 'Fred'.
-Percy Jackson
He read it several times, his mouth falling open in astonishment. He'd mostly been joking when he'd said he'd wanted her to write him a haiku about the quest. He couldn't believe she'd actually done it!
The fact that she had… it meant that she'd bothered to take him seriously. It had been awhile since anyone had taken him seriously.
It made him feel…
It made him feel.
.:~{+}~:.
AN 2: Phew! 'The Titan's Curse' was a whopper for Apollo/Percy transaction! Oh, there's a part in here where I mention that Apollo does not like Athena. I totally want to credit hopefulmemoir and their awesome story, Percy's Sleep (which I definitely recommend reading. It's a one-shot, but well worth the time). Anyway, the author derived Apollo's hate for Athena based on the fact that Troy was an sacred city to Apollo and Athena was one of the Goddesses against Troy. Anyway, I reiterate, that gem of an idea was not mine! And for anyone who was wondering, there are three Fates- Clotho is the Fate of Life.