Part Two
The Snow Queen: Blizzard
Percy only brought his sword with him. As he tore through his meager bag of belongings, he cursed himself with every colorful decree he knew for his lack of foresight. There was no time to run back to the castle; he would have to make due. He stole a hunting knife that laid unattended in one of his fellow guard's bags, strapping it to his thigh as he finished tucking rope into his bag. Behind him, the carriage driver whimpered softly.
When the driver took Percy to where the Arendalle princesses were supposed to be housed, the first thing he noticed was that Hera had taken charge, keeping a tight fist on the bubbling panic that threatened to descend upon the Arendalle entourage. For the first time in his life, Percy was proud to call her his princess. She was pale, her hand trembled ever so slightly, unperceivable to anyone but him, but she held her head high and voice controlled.
"Send a guard ahead to warn the queen. Speak to no one else. Make haste. You there, I want you to go speak to King Kronos. Make no mentioned of the kidnapping or anything else…unusual. Just tell him that our princesses were attacked last night. We are very sorry but we will be unable to attend to him today, and that his invitation to the palace has been temporarily suspended. Go."
"Shouldn't King Kronos know of the danger he is in? The Snow King is real, and he is vengeful," someone boldly put forth.
Percy slung his bag over his shoulder, turning around to find Hera standing before the guards. Her back was straight, her eyes flashing; she almost appeared to be carved of stone, hardened and unyielding. Strong. Powerful. Princess Hera.
"Be silent." Hera's voice was even, calm, yet the gathered men shivered at her tone. "You have your tasks. I expect you to stick to them. Until word returns from the queen, you will do as I say. And believe me, the Snow King will be the least of your worries if you disobey."
With that final warning, Hera strode forward. Percy thought she was going to sweep by him, but to his surprise she caught him by the arm and dragged him into her personal study, slamming the door behind them.
"I don't know what happened," she said shortly, while Percy looked around the room in mild alarm, trying to understand what was happening. "The storm grew worse. Persephone and I waited in the carriage while the guards secured the house. Snow was everywhere, it was so cold . . . It looked like a whirlwind at first, a whirlwind of snow and ice, unlike anything I had ever seen. Persephone stepped out of the carriage to calm the horses and I moved to follow. Only I couldn't open the door, it was frozen shut. I tried to break it down, I took my knife to it and everything . . . but it wouldn't budge. I told her to run, but she didn't move. Maybe she couldn't. The ice mass grew closer, and suddenly a man stepped out of it.
"He looked exactly as the tale always said. He was tall, and dark. The snow clung to his very person, frozen in his hair, in the folds of his clothes. He wore only a light tunic yet he did not shiver. He didn't say anything, didn't give anybody a chance to react. He just…raising his hand… and the snow replied. It wrapped around my Persephone and himself. Then the storm cleared…and my niece was gone."
Hera's voice grew progressively quieter, her eyes staring unseeingly out the window.
"The Snow King is real. He is not made from snow and ice, for all he seems to command it. Rather his body is made of flesh and blood. That means we can hurt him. We can defeat him."
She cleared her throat.
"I cannot command the army. The guards will do as I say, but my word only holds so much sway. They will not storm the mountain without the queen's orders. It will take an entire day to reach her, a day to return, and several more to assemble a team to brave the mountain. All the while, my little niece is in the hands of that . . . that monster."
"That'll take too long," Percy objected, his heart clenching at the thought. "And it's easier for one person to scale the mountain."
He was going to scale the mountain. It didn't even matter if Hera forbade him; she may have restored his faith in her, but nothing would come between him and rescuing Persephone. He was not going to leave her in the hands of that…whatever kidnapped her. His princess was strong, but he wasn't going to gamble her life. Not with something so infinitely precious.
"What do you need?"
"Huh?"
Percy blinked at the queen's sister, certain he had misheard. Hera frowned at him, that really irritated and displeased one where her eyebrows crinkled and her jaw dropped a little. It was a familiar expression; the familiarity of it put him more at ease.
"I know you are nowhere near the simpleton you pretend to be Perseus, so tell me. What do you need to rescue my niece?"
"Oh," Percy said stupidly. Hera's eyebrows rose.
Twenty minutes later, Percy swung a bag over his shoulder, renewed with favor from the princess, tightening it around his shoulders and taking his time to make sure his sword was secure at his side and unlikely to skewer him on his climb up the mountain, all the time uncomfortably aware of Hera's unwavering gaze burning a hole in the side of his head. He finally straightened and met her hard eyes.
"You packed light." Her voice was level; Percy could almost believe she was her usual harpy-like self if it weren't for the hand that was twisted in her skirt.
"I have to climb a mountain, Her – princess," Percy said, correcting himself halfway through. She was helping him out, and she loved Persephone almost as much as Percy did, she deserved her proper title. At least for today.
Hera simply nodded. She turned, her eyes gazing over the mountain in the distance.
"Take a horse, ride as far as you can. She'll find her way home."
"They always do," Percy agreed as one of Hera's personal guards brought a white mare out to him. He took her reigns, twisting the cold leather between his fingers, hardly able to distinguish between the worn, rough material and his own callous skin.
He put one leg on the stirrup, hesitating just a moment. "Will… will you be okay, princess?"
Unless he was mistaken, Hera's eyes softened the slightest bit. "I've got my guards, Perseus, you're hardly the only one we brought. Besides, you aren't even my guard."
"Persephone had guards with her," Percy reminded her softly.
Hera's fingers clenched, the white of her knuckles visibly trembling at her side. "I know."
"Okay," Percy said because there was nothing else he could say. If the Snow King wanted to take her, he probably would have taken her when he took Persephone. If not…well the guards didn't do much the first time.
"Bring her back Percy," Hera whispered.
"I will." Percy promised because coming back without Persephone was not an option. He wouldn't entertain anything less. Hera nodded, which Percy took as his cue to leave. In one fluid movement, he swung himself up and onto the saddle.
Hera had no encouragement to give him, none that would ring with any sincerity or offer any real courage; he didn't need it anyway. The fire that burned in his heart, always kept so carefully tamed and controlled behind self-deprecating quips and ridiculous jokes, flared to life, curling across his chest; spreading through his veins until his entire body, his very blood, sang with it. He didn't need any encouragement.
The snow didn't get bad until the foot of the mountain. Percy's horse galloped with speed and grace, hurling fences, snow banks, and anything else that stood in its way with ease as she spirited her charge away. They were forced to slow as they approached the mountain, the mare's footing endangered by the icy ground and increasing steepness of the land.
"Easy girl," Percy soothed lowly, patting the mare's flank. He let the mare drink from a slowly trickling stream, carding his fingers through her mane as he watched the sun sink low in the sky. It was the first time they had stopped since leaving Hera in the morning, the mare deserved a rest.
Percy leaned against a tree, keeping one hand on the mare as he gazed up at the mountain, upon whose threshold they lay. Already the snow grew thicker, the air colder; Percy knew the mare couldn't carry him much farther.
"What do you say, girl, think you can carry me a little further?" Percy murmured, turning his attention back to the horse. "For Persephone?"
The mare tossed her head, snorting. A faint smile flickered across Percy's face.
"Atta girl," Percy softly praised. "I promise I'll give you all the sugar cubes in the entire kingdom when we get home."
As if she understood the incentive, or perhaps felt the urgency of their situation, the mare plowed forward, cutting through the ice and snow like she was born too. In hindsight, a sled and team of dogs would have been a much more effective way to scale the mountain, but then again Percy didn't have time to race back the castle, assemble a team and return. Besides, at that point he may just as well have joined the search and rescue party the queen was putting together; neither he nor Persephone had the time for that.
The snow fell thicker, the air colder, the higher up the mountain they climbed, until the world around them was nothing more than a frigid flurry of white. With near numb fingers, Percy dismounted his brave mare. He kept his face hidden in her hair, relishing the warmth of her body and the strong, deep heartbeat that echoed in his ears.
"This is as far as you go. Think you can find your way down the mountain girl?" He murmured against her hid.
The mare whine, rearing up on her hind legs, fiercely kicking the arm with her gleaming hooves.
"Whoa girl," Percy cried, his voice torn away by the wind and lost in the elements.
He grasped at her reigns, but the cold leather burned his palms, slipping through his fingers. He fell backward, caught by the relentless wind, unwilling and unable to cling to the horse for support.
If Percy thought the world was white before it had nothing on the cloud of absolute colorless mass that now filled his vision. Snow found its way into places snow had no place to be, but Percy's body was numb; he felt neither the shock of the impact nor the bite of the cold. Instinctively, he tucked and rolled, arms protecting his face and neck as he came up to his knees. He kept low, for fear of the horse's panicked disposition, as his mind worked furiously to discover the cause of her distress. His eyes were quick in their assessment; snow still flurried upon the land, but there were no sudden upheavals, no gusts of wind and snow, no slip of ice or caverned ground before the horse, no sign of anything that could have spooked the horse. Except –
Movement drew Percy's attention and he realized that what he previously had assumed to be a mound of snow was moving and that it wasn't a mound at all. Before his very eyes, and those of his spooked and crying mare, the snow changed, smoothly and seamlessly weaving together like a great patchwork of elements until it took an almost woman-like form. The snow creature, whose skin or surface or whatever, was quickly smoothing and solidifying into pure ice, had great wings sprouting from her back. They looked tough, their texture almost like that of leather, but were clearly made of cold ice. The creature flexed her hands, long thin appendages from which sharp icy talons extended. Her mouth twisted, her smirk sharp enough to cut, revealing a mouthful of wicked daggers. As Percy watched in morbid fascination, she held her hand out and the swirling snow around her condensed and formed a whip in her grotesque hand.
"Who is this?" She cackled, teeth bared and cold, dead eyes flashing in uncontained glee. "Who dares encroach upon my lord's domain?"
"What?" Was all Percy managed to say in reply, the cold and sheer impossibility of the situation addling his brain.
The creature didn't bother replying. In a flurry of blindingly quick movement, she was before him, her terrible talons slashing at his face as her whip cracked against his body. Percy recoiled, numb fingers pulling at his sword as he instinctively ducked, narrowing avoiding another up close and personal demonstration of the effectiveness of her ice whip as he stumbled backward. His back stung from the first crack of her whip, a sharp pinprick of pain in his otherwise numb body. The creature cackled in delight again, pressing forward and forcing him to continue to stumble backward, ducking and throwing himself to the side to avoid her talons.
He rolled in the snow, fighting back a strong and disorientating wave of déjà vu as he scrambled to his feet.
"Whoa wait just a – " he tried to gasp, coughing as the bitterly cold wind assaulted his throat.
The creature didn't give him the courtesy of even considering his words. She was upon him again before the words even left his throat, but this time Percy had freed his sword from its scabbard. He brought it up just in time parlay her talons, sidestepping in an attempt to sweep her feet from under her. The ice creature was having none of that. She danced out of reach, her whip cracking behind her and cutting across his cheek when he couldn't react fast enough.
"I don't even know – " Percy gasped, jumping back to avoid another crack of her ice whip as blood trickled down his face and into his mouth.
He spat, twisting as the creature darted close, her whip attacking his ankles as her talons lurched towards his venerable face. But Percy wasn't the prodigy of the guard's barrack for nothing; his sword twisted with his body, catching the end of the whip and diverting its path, then moving with his body as he barred her talons, and as he neatly twisted away from the ice demon, tangling the whip that still was caught in its unforgiving steel with the creature's outstretched fingers.
" – who, or what, you are!" Percy finished as the creature cursed loudly. Her hand melted and the whip fell through, the fingers reforming a second later as she once again threw herself at him.
"Oh come on, that's not even fair!" Percy exclaimed, ducking and slashing as she darted in close.
"Can't we just – talk about this?" Percy panted, wincing as her whip curled around his calf, cutting through fabric and skin alike as he swung and cut the ice in half. The whip fell to the floor, useless, but the creature pressed on.
"You talk enough," she hissed, "too much. No one shall get passed me and disturb my lord."
"Your lord? Who is your lord?" Percy demanded, his momentary lapse in concentration costing him as the creature's talons sliced across his shoulder. He didn't feel the pain and he spared a minute to worry if that was due to the adrenaline of the fight or the cold that pressed around them.
"The Snow King?" Percy gasped when she did not answer, landing a kick square to the creature's stomach and sending her backward. "Sorry lady, but I need an audience with his kidnapping self."
The creature's face twisted, and boy he thought it was ugly enough before but this was something else. "Speak not of what you cannot understand, fleshling."
"Then explain to me," Percy snapped back. "Just who does this 'Snow King' thinks he is and what makes kidnapping okay?"
"Foolish mortal," the creature hissed instead, her icy fangs on frightening display as she leapt forward.
Without thinking, Percy swung his sword. The creature left herself exposed in her flight, the thin wing-like appendages on her back fluttering and lifting her off the ground in a feat he hadn't even considered a possibility. Perhaps she thought her flight would stun him or in her anger forgot about her vulnerability, but Percy swung and his sword sliced through her icy center.
The creature's eyes widened in disbelief, and a second later erupted in a shower of snow.
Percy sputtered in surprise, stumbling when the follow through of his swing was met with zero resistance in the open air, causing him to fall forward and kiss the ground. He flipped over, drawing his sword up in defense. He vividly remembered her fingers melting and reforming, his body tensing as he waited for her to reform.
He held the sword tightly as he scrambled to his feet, his breathing harsh and heavy. The pile of snow where the creature once stood shifted lightly in the wind, tendrils of snow catching the current and getting carried away in its gentle breeze. Percy waited.
The wind blew.
After a minute of oppressive silence, Percy crept forward. The snow sparkled innocently at him. He poked it experimentally with his sword.
Nothing.
"Oh 'Seph, what have we gotten ourselves into?" He murmured into the mountain air. The wind whistled in response.
The mare fled during the flight. Percy didn't blame her one bit; he only hoped she would be able to find her way safely down the mountain and back into the gentle hands of Queen Demeter. It would have been great if he had, you know, gotten the bags off her saddle before she turned tail but that was the ice demon's fault. No use being angry at the horse.
No use being angry at an elusive ice demon who disappeared in a cloud of snow either, but it gave him a target for his ire. And it made him feel slightly better to slice his sword through the snow ever once in a while, cursing angrily under his breath.
A dozen or so steps from the site of the fight, Percy took stock of his injuries. Her whip had cut clean through his pants and left a matching slice along his thigh. His left shoulder was a bloody mess from where she sank her talons in. He wrapped his shoulder the best he could with the tattered remains of the sleeve. His inner coat was still intact, but the night grew ever colder and there now was a gaping hole in his pants. He needed to find shelter or he would freeze to death.
Squinting at the path ahead of him, Percy could just barely make out a shimmering light. The ice palace. Well, maybe. That's what the story said anyway, that the Snow King lived in an ice palace at the top of the mountain. Percy didn't believe old wives' tales to begin with, but apparently the Snow King was real and ice demons could appear out of thin air so what did he know? It wasn't like he had anything else to go on, so until proven otherwise, he was going to assume there really was an ice palace at the top of this mountain.
He needed to reach the palace, or else freeze to death. Or find a nice cave along the way, but he doubted that would be possible. Besides, he hadn't any flint to start a fire. He really was up the creek without a paddle. Hunching his shoulders, Percy plowed on. His leg ached dully, but it was his shoulder that caused him the greatest discomfort; it burned and itched and protested every moment he made. He gritted his teeth but kept moving.
Persephone needed him.
The sun had long since vanished from the sky by the time Percy could make out the glimmering light. In its stead, the moon rose high in the sky, a sliver of hope and shimmering light that cast a faint glow upon the snow, as pure and white as a dove's downy feathers. Persephone would appreciate the view, but Percy was cold and numb and the pain from his wounds was starting to fade which he knew wasn't a good sign.
The moon did afford him enough light to make out the land before him. There was indeed an ice palace at the top of the mountain. It towered high into the night, a silent gleaming structure made entirely out of the frozen elements. Around the castle, in a sparkling imitation of a moat, lay a frozen lake. Shards of ice were scattered across its dark, glass-like surface.
Percy wandered along the edge of the lake, squinting up at the imposing palace. Persephone was in there somewhere. The thought alone was enough to bring his blood back to life, enough warmth flowing through his veins as he surveyed the frozen water. It was unavoidable, he would have to cross it. He stepped forward, setting one of his feet squarely on the ice and slowly letting the frozen surface take his weight. The lake didn't so much as creak. At least, not when he stepped on it.
It did creak a second after, when Percy was smiling and starting to lift his other foot to take his first real step across the lake. The shards of ice leapt into the air, the lake groaning in protest, as something large and heavy bounded across the slick surface. Percy tensed, going for his sword as another snow creature loomed before him. Unlike the ice demon, this abomination was huge, easily three men high from the bottom of one giant paw to the top of one of its…three heads.
Percy blinked at the manifestation before him and the vaguely dog shaped creature blinked back at him. This creature looked to be solely made of snow, as opposed to the ice of the she-demon, packed and confined by some unseeable force. It had the general form of a massive dog, four great snow paws half the size of Percy's body held it upright. But from the creature's shoulders three necks sprouted, and at the end of each white neck three large canine heads emerged. The leftmost and rightmost head growled, a low menacing sound that caused the very ground to vibrate and reverberated inside Percy's chest. The middle head's lips were pulled back in a silent snarl as massive eyes examined the frozen man below.
"Hey buddy," Percy said weakly, taking a step backward.
As he spoke, his hand went to the sword at his side. The middle head followed his movement and as Percy's fingers closed around the hilt of his sword, it howled and one great paw was suddenly hammering into his side. Percy tried to lurch out of the way, but the snow beast was quicker than he anticipated and he couldn't get out of the way fast enough. The corner of the paw caught him and send Percy flying backward. As he tumbled, once more unable to control his body as he was thrown through the cold, he had a terrifying image of the edge of the mountain and himself plummeting over it. Luckily, the trees he forgot to take into account prevented this. His shoulder scream in protest as he came to a crashing halt – and actually that might not be his shoulder but his vocal cords instead. Or maybe both. Who knew?
All Percy knew was that his entire body hurt and, deep in his half frozen bones, he knew that this was not a fight he could win. The ground vibrated, great tremors that shook even the trees, as the snow beast stalked near. Snow shook from the barren branches of the trees, tumbling over onto Percy as he struggled to his feet.
"I don't suppose we can talk about this?" Percy asked, the coppery taste of blood obscuring his senses. He couldn't feel his hands, couldn't tell for sure if he was reaching for his sword so he tore his eyes away from the glowering snow mutt to paw anxiously at his side.
His sword was gone.
He must have managed to unsheath it before the creature swatted at him. Percy's breath was a tangible thing, a cloud of white desperation with every exaggerated huff of air he greedily took in. His sword could be anywhere, lost in the snow or thrown far by the creature's great strike. He was going to die on the top of this gods' forsaken mountain at the hands, paws, of a damned three-headed snow dog while his princess was trapped in the shimmering castle just beyond his reach.
Percy clenched his jaw, reaching for whatever weapon he could, any means of protecting himself. The mutt's middle head followed his movement as the other two snapped, impatient, bloodthirsty, ready to strike. Head number three dove forward, icy fangs bared as Percy swung the nearest object, a tree branch, over his head.
The head stopped inches from his face, pulled up sharp as its giant hindquarters suddenly plummeted to the ground with a rumble that shook every last flurry of snow from the trees, those tenacious few who survived the creature's first assault. The movement caused the third head's gaping jaws to snap shut with a sickening crack on thin air as it was suddenly jerked backward. The third head looked confused, snapping its jaws a second time as it blinked at him, unable to believe he was standing and not being ground into dust in it powerful jaw. Percy shared the sentiment, his heartbeat resonating in his ears with more force than the snow beast's own fall.
The snow beast sat half in the snow, half on the frozen lake as though one of the heads thought this was a good time and place for sitting. It clearly wasn't the third who was slowly coming out of its daze, murder returning to its eyes as it hungrily eyed Percy, who couldn't compel his frozen limbs to action. Not that it would've done him much good, the creature would be able to catch him in no time and chew him up like a human chew-toy. If he didn't freeze or bleed to death first.
The first head snapped at the middle one, who seemed to be the perpetrator of the sitting offense. The middle head paid it no mind, its cold white eyes instead focused on something above Percy's head. Percy licked his lips, hesitantly daring to glance up. He wasn't exactly sure what he expected to find. The trees above his hair were bare, flurries blowing idly in the wind under the bright crescent moon. Blood sluggishly ran down his arm, bright pinpricks of color in the otherwise barren landscape. His fingers were wrapped tightly around the branch held over his head, a light blush of blue spreading across the tips that would be a greater cause of concern were it not for the three-headed snow beast before him.
The third head growl; the middle head whined.
"I don't – " Percy gasped, in exhaustion and pain, his arm trembling enough to bring the branch at level with his eyes. The middle head's eyes zeroed in on the movement, licking its icy chops.
"What are you waiting for?" Percy demanded. He was tired, he was cold, he was irritated and frightened and furious and guilt churned sickeningly in his stomach at the thought of dying and leaving Persephone and why was the damned mutt hesitating?
The branch fell to his side and the mutt shuffled its feet, the first head turning to watch with the middle as its empty twigs swayed in the wind. Percy followed their gaze, blinking at the branch in surprise. He slowly raised it, ignoring the way his arm trembled in exhaustion. Their gaze followed.
"Oh my god," Percy breathed, just this side of hysterical. "Oh my god. It's the stick, you want the stick, you want to play fetch."
He waved the branch in the air and the middle head made a grab for it, whining.
"No," Percy commanded, the cold and exhaustion and pain of the day clearly addling his mind as he held the branch behind him and out of reach. "Wait." His insanity was sealed with an outstretched hand, palm held up.
All three heads stilled, at attention.
"I can't believe I'm doing this," Percy gasped, pulling his arm back. "Alright beastie, fetch."
And with that he threw the stick with all his (admittedly diminished) strength. The branch arched into the air, its silent flight cutting through the silver path of the moon as it spiraled deeper into the sky. Its miraculous flight, soaring with Percy's renewed hope, was brutally killed in the cold and cruel jaws of the beast's middle head. Percy flinched, as though the frozen teeth chomped down on his own flesh instead of the branch.
The other two heads whined and growled, snapping at the middle one as they tried to get in on the action. Little pieces of bark fell from the beast's middle head, fluttering onto the snow like strange, burnt flurries.
"Stop!" Percy shouted, panicked. Three pairs of icy eyes turned to him.
"I mean, drop it!" Percy amended, putting as much authority into his voice as possible. The middle head tilted, snowy ears perking in confusion.
"I said drop it," Percy repeated, hands on his hips as though reprimanded one of the stray mutts at the merchants' dock.
The heads all whined, but a second later a slobbery and half decimated branch fell at his feet. It was all Percy could do not to recoil in surprise. The great creature sat again, the great thump barely even registering in Percy's brain as he saw himself lifting the branch up off the ground to hold it over his head again. Each of the beast's heads were trained on him, cocked to the side with icy tongues hanging out.
"Oh my god, you're almost cute," Percy hysterically giggled. "Okay, okay," he swallowed back his giggles as he looked up at the barely put together branch above his head. It wouldn't survive another round with the super snow mutt.
"Good boy," Percy called. "Alright, this one's going long okay? So, ah, fetch."
Percy wasn't entirely sure he could even make the branch go long, but he wound his uninjured arm back, a little awkwardly since he wasn't used to using it, and threw it down the side of the mountain. It didn't go very high, not enough to allow any of the heads to make a mid-air snatch, and its brown splendor was quickly swallowed up by the white, little rivers of snow coming to life and running down the mountain.
Tail wagging and with a great bark, the beast leapt after it.
Percy took this as his chance, and, this time, he didn't hesitate to take advantage of it. He forced his frozen limbs to move, stumbling forward towards the inky black of the lake. The second his feet touched its smooth surface he went down, a tangle of limbs and pain and adrenaline that got him back onto his feet a second later and skidding across the icy surface. The millions of ice shards across the surface sliced his hand to ribbons, his palms always managing to break his falls as he lost his footing on the dangerous surface and sent him hurtling towards the unforgiving ice. But he didn't stop, he couldn't stop. He kept glancing over his shoulder in panic, so sure that the beast was going to be bounding back towards him, the branch forgotten or chewed to smithereens and the heads would maul him instead.
It never reappeared. Percy slipped and skidded his way right up to the palace doors, his one track mind not leaving enough room to admire the splendor and detail of the impossible ice walls as he crashed against it.
"Let me in, let me in, let me in," Percy chanted, clinging to the icy walls (which provided very little support honestly who thought being totally surrounded by ice was a good thing?) as he tried to find a point of entrance.
Percy searched frantically, his blood pounding in his ears, leaking out of his shoulder, freezing to his leg, pounding against cruel, uncaring ice just let me in before suddenly he was flat on his face, arms sprawled out to catch himself and staring uncomprehendingly at the ground. He blinked, unsure if the black that encroached on his vision was because he was staring into the icy abyss of the frozen lake, or if blood had crept into his eyes, dizziness stealing his sight away, the three-headed beast's jaws closing around him, the ice demon's laughter ringing in his ears, falling, tumbling, down down down . . .
"Percy."
"Percy?"
"Can you hear me, my darling Perseus?"
"Open your eyes, Percy, let me see the light that shines within. Please…for me?"
"….'Seph?"
The angelic voice that sung in his ear, each word dripping with sunshine and warmth, felt like a dream, an ethereal goddess beckoning him home. The gut-wrenching pounding in his head and scorching pain in his shoulder, on the other hand, told him that he was very much alive.
Besides, as he forced his eyes to open, whining against the on slaughter of painful light, that sounded like Persephone. And his princess was a thousand times better than any ethereal goddess. He'd take the pain. As his eyes focused, Persephone's pale face did come into view.
She was leaning over him, holding a damp towel to his brow, her other hand, pale and gentle, resting against his cheek. Her dark hair fell like silken curtains around his face, tickling and sweet. Golden eyes were half-filled with tears, glistening like unadulterated pools of eternity and righteousness, cleansing and healing his soul so his lips turned upwards of this own accord and his dark, dirty hand reached for her pure, haloed face.
"Shh," she whispered, rather nonsensically – he hadn't even managed to get her enough name out. Instead of batting his hand away like she should, she reached out and took it in both of hers, her pure fingers encasing his unworthy ones until they were completely covered, hidden from view.
"You should save your strength, my dear, darling brave knight. You gave me quite the fright."
Percy's brow furrowed in confusion, his brain working lethargically – it was hard to think when Persephone was holding his hand. But come to think of it, this wasn't the Queen's infirmary. In fact, as he banished the sleep fog from his brain and began to catalog his surroundings, he realized the walls were made of ice.
The ice palace.
The Snow King.
Percy was upright in a heartbeat, the hand Persephone wasn't holding reached for a weapon as his eyes darted feverously around the room, hyper-vigilantly assessing every threat and escape route.
"Percy! Please – do not move so quickly, you are injured and – "
"The Snow King," Percy interrupted, turning his sharp attention to his princess and cataloging her for injuries. The only time Percy felt comfortable objectively staring or defying his princess was when her life was in danger and right now that definitely applied. His own health was irrelevant.
"Yes, this is his palace and the Snow King roams these halls, not as a myth or legend but as man of flesh and bone. Do not be alarmed – "
Percy snorted, fighting with the blankets that were wound tightly around his torso as he tried to get out of bed despite his princess' gentle prodding. "Don't be alarmed like hell. He kidnapped you 'Seph – are you alright? Are you hurt?"
"Perseus, your injuries," Persephone softly exclaimed, exasperation, fondness and worry all coloring her tone as he patted her down.
"I'm fine," Percy dismissed, the twinge his leg and burning pain in his shoulder blissfully ignored.
"Perseus Jackson, as your princess and future queen, I demand that you cease this foolishness at once and listen to the words I am saying!"
Percy froze, startled, blinking at Persephone's stern face as she softly glowered at him. Persephone never pulled the rank card, not with him. Before a hole of pain and despair could open up inside of him, Persephone's face relaxed and she brought his hand up to her lips, kissing his knuckles gently.
"At peace, my Percy, forgive me. I am well and wholly uninjured. And I was not kidnapped."
"You weren't?" Percy repeated incredulously, brow furrowing as he squinted up at Persephone. "What are you talking about? Did you hit your head? 'Seph, Hera saw him kidnap you—"
"My aunt saw the snow converge around me," Persephone corrected lightly, tapping him on the nose like this entire conversation was okay, which it wasn't.
"Persephone what did you do?" Percy demanded, not quite believing what he was hearing.
"It's him, Percy," she said, squeezing his hand, her wide eyes earnest and that set off alarms in Percy's head. "The Snow King. He's real and I knew as soon as I saw him that I could not let him disappear. I had to speak with him, Perseus, you must understand."
"Nope, not understanding," Percy said shortly, shaking his head firmly as if to shake off the insanity of this conversation. Persephone's mouth turned down. "Because that's crazy."
"Hush," Persephone said. "It is not. He's an all-powerful being living above our very shores, Perseus, one who can control the weather. Tell me, is it not advantages to speak with him?"
"So you let yourself get kidnapped?" Percy asked furiously, rage burning in his chest as he tried to sit up.
Persephone sighed, looking put upon as she pressed her hand against his chest to hold him down. "I was not kidnapped Perseus, I asked if we could talk—"
"Do you have any idea what an uproar your not-kidnapping caused?" Percy furiously demanded.
"I admit the manner in which he agreed left something to be desired—"
"Left something to be desired?" Percy repeated scathingly. "Persephone the entire kingdom is in an uproar! Hera was frightened. Frightened Persephone! She asked me for help! I almost died scaling up this mountain because I thought you were in danger—"
Finally, something akin to guilt flickered over Persephone's face as she squeezed his hand tight and it shut him right up.
Her eyes were mournful and infinitely sad as she said, "Oh my Perseus. I am sorry. I am truly, horribly, sorry for all the trouble it caused. I never wished for any harm to come to you, my dearest friend. I did not know what the Snow King would do. I simply wished to speak to him, to know if this sorcerer was friend or foe to my people. I did not know he would take me to his castle to speak, nor that my sudden departure would cause such an uproar. I did not intend that."
The fight fled from Percy's bones as he slouched back in his chair.
"I guess an all-powerful sorcerer hanging over our heads is kind of scary," he allowed, mostly to try and get that awful guilty look to disappear from Persephone's face. "Relax, 'Seph, I'm not mad. You couldn't have known he was going to whisk you away. But dammit 'Seph, he could have killed you."
"I shouldn't have been so rash and idealistic," Persephone said softly, leaning forward to press a kiss against his forehead. "My actions have consequences beyond me and I have to remember that. I acted rashly, forgive me."
"I forgive you," Percy said, because how could he do anything else?
"He has awaken, I see."
Percy didn't jump at the deep voice that joined them, a figure appearing in the doorway, but it was a near thing. He stiffened on instinct, fully prepared to launch out of bed, but Persephone's strong grip on his wrist held him in place.
A man stood in the doorway.
He looked a few years older than Percy, with the bone structure and complexion of someone of higher birth. He was tall, the top of his head almost level with the door, with a build not unbecoming a knight. His shoulder length black hair looked a touch oily, like he wasn't entirely sold on the merits of shampoo, complete with bangs that hung over his eyes. Eyes, which by the way, were creepy as hell. Literally, like hell. Like, they held the same intensity of darkness and soul-crushing despair Percy would classify hell as having. His clothes, however, were the strangest part of this picture.
Wrapped around him in a flawless imitating of a royal suit, black ice flared across his frame. A cape trailed behind him, a patchwork of ice that was crisscrossed with thousands of hairline fractures and cracks, as if it were woven together from millions of shards of ice. Atop his head sat a crown of ice, tendrils of frozen water sloping in the twisted imitation of the crown that sat upon Queen Demeter but gleaming heartlessly in the cold air.
"You know, they really should call you the Ice King," Percy said. Which, ugh, was not what he planned on saying, damn you filter-less mouth. He wanted to say something snarky and aggressive, like why did you think whisking the princess away to your remote castle was a good idea, what are your intentions?
The Snow King blinked, his eyes briefly flickering to Persephone, who was making hushing sounds at Percy as she pushed hair out of his eyes. Which, Percy wasn't going to lie, was very nice but very distracting and kind of the wrong time.
"He just woke up," she scolded, frowning at the Snow King.
The Snow King scowled in return, slinking into the room like a shadow or some other cliché, his cold eyes, eerily similar to the ice ones of the snow demon or the snowy ones of the three-headed beast, trailed over Percy.
"You gave us quite a scare," Persephone told Percy. "You fell right through the front door, half frozen and in shock. Oh, I do wish you wouldn't frighten me so."
Percy huffed, mouth twisted down to immediately counter that ridiculous statement, him frighten her, honestly, after what she pulled? She didn't give him the time, plowing on.
"You did not lose as much blood as I first feared, but the cold took its toll. Your shoulder should heal perfectly with time," her fingers ghosted over his shoulder, removed from the warm skin by a layer of wrapping he failed to notice before, "so do not fear. I know it is your sword arm. Your leg as well needed binding, but the damage there was less pressing and should not give you any trouble, not even now."
Percy heeded her words, taking stock of his body for the first time as she shook, nodding along. His shoulder did hurt quite a bit, but he trusted Persephone's opinion and resolved not to worry about it. His leg barely ached so he concurred with her assessment of that.
"Yes, he's fine, are you finished?" The problem himself grunted from the corner, because he couldn't stand in the middle of the room like a normal person but instead slunk away to dramatically hide in the shadows.
Persephone seemed to think about it, humming softly as she pursed her lips. Percy saw the Snow King twitch and felt a rush of pride for his princess, grinning.
"I am," she conceded finally, turning just enough so she could see both Percy and the Snow King. "If it would please you know to introduce yourself."
The guy looked like he didn't know if he wanted to scowl or smile at that and in his deliberation his face twisted oddly instead. Percy didn't bother to withhold his snickers. If this was the Snow King of legend, the one who created the ice demon and ferocious snow beast, Percy felt kind of cheated.
The Snow King detached himself from the wall, drawing himself up to his full height as he stalked out of the shadows.
"Are you sure he isn't the Drama Queen and we took a wrong turn somewhere?" Percy asked.
"Perseus," Persephone softly admonished, gentle laughter ruining the effect. The Snow King's face contorted.
"Hold your tongue, peasant," he demanded, eyes flashing. "You know not to whom you speak."
"I am the master of this castle, the towering walls and slopping ceilings are born of me. The lake which surrounds, and the snow that abounds, are of my very will. Ice are my veins and cold my breath, for winter ever lingers within my breast even when the earth rejects the frigid blanket of darken nights and adores herself in the season of light. I am the curator of that lifeless season, of the cold and the snow and the ice. They live in me, and I in them. I am the Snow King."
"That's nice," Percy said absently in the wake of that dramatic speech that the Snow King obviously wanted to let ring in the silence for dramatic effect, but he was a little too peeved and reckless to give him that satisfaction. "I'm Percy Jackson, knighted guard of Queen Demeter's court, sworn protector of the crown, childhood friend to Princess Persephone. You're not the only one who can make up fancy titles. Nice to meet ya'."
The Snow King glowered at him in a mixture of disbelief and fury. He got the feeling that Persephone was sitting smugly beside him but didn't break eye contact with the 'curator of that lifeless season' to check.
"So, did you create that ice demon and the snow mutt? Because I gotta say – "
"Alecto and Cerberus," the Snow King's eyebrows rose, his expression settling on incredibility.
"Man those are some awful names, I feel bad for your future children," Percy winced.
"You fought - ?" The Snow King looked at Percy in open disbelief now, which was highly insulting – Percy found his way to the guy's esteemed towering walls and slopping ceilings didn't he?
"Yes," Percy huffed, crossing his arms in offense and ignoring the twinge in his shoulder. "The demon lady – Alecto? God that's awful – kind of disappeared into a cloud of snow? But, in my defense, she was trying to kill me."
"She's not dead," the Snow King dismissed with a wave of his hand. "It just takes some time for them to reform after being injured. She'll reform. What about Cerberus?"
"We played fetch," Percy said, unsure if he was being purposefully blithe or if the insanity of the situation was contagious. At both the Snow King and Persephone's disbelieving look, he added, "No seriously. I thought I was going to die and he wanted to play fetch. Threw a stick a few times, all three heads loved it. You really outta play with him more."
"I believe we have strayed off topic," Persephone said as the Snow King continued to glower at Percy. "To return to my earlier thoughts; Perseus there has been a grave misfortune committed – "
"Yeah, you thought talking to an all-powerful sorcerer by yourself was a good idea," Percy grumbled, crossing his arms.
Persephone ignored him – "you do not know who he is."
"Ugh, you too? He's the Snow King 'Seph, the, how did he put it? It was very dramatic and unnecessary – "
"He is King Kronos' lost son, Prince Hades of Weselton."
"Wait what?"
Percy gaped at Persephone's open and earnest face, turning to survey the stone cold one of the Snow King. He wanted to disagree, to tell Persephone she was mistaken, but as his horrified eyed scanned the frozen menace he found the square jaw and broad shoulders of Kronos, the way he stood, one leg half bent at the knee like Prince Poseidon, scowl and almost exact replica of Prince Zeus' . . .
Prince Hades, brother of Princes Poseidon and Zeus, son of King Kronos and rightful heir to Weselton's throne, the Snow King, lifted his chin and determinedly met Percy's gaze.
A/n Not exactly a dramatic reveal, most of you knew who the Snow King was (but boy do the Big Three love to be dramatic). Yes I know Percy climbed the mountain in an impossible time frame. Let's just assume that it's a smaller mountain, or that in this magical world of fiction where there's a man who can literally create furies and giant three-headed dogs out of snow that it's possible. I had a lot of fun with Cerebus, but it was kind of an unnecessarily long scene so I hope it wasn't boring and instead you found it as entertain as I thought it was to write? Also, this was supposed to be posted on Friday, but the Group Project from Hell got in the way and I didn't have the time to edit this chapter, and I still don't really have time? But I got impatient so I didn't look this chapter over as much as I normally would have so please forgive me for any mistakes. Thank you to everyone who's supported me this far, you're all fantastic, and I hope this chapter was enjoyable none the less. Please tell me what you thought ~ *