Hi! Long time no see. I'd very much like to apologise to anybody who may have been waiting along time for this chapter but let's just say that my life went slowly down hill these past seven or so months and I'm just treading the surface of clear waters again, if you know what I mean.

I've trying to get back on what I refer to as my writers bench but I was so focused on my other story (The Other One: chapter 10, 30 pages in and only half way through… yikes) that I forgot about this one. However a reviewer recently PM'd me simply to ask for another chapter and it was so endearing I forced my scatter brained self to work.

So… thank you Alaijah, for making me remember why I started this story in the first place. This one's for you.

(Oh, if it's a little different to my usual writing please put up with it for a while. I'm only just getting back into the rhythm."

Disclaimer: I own nothing… except Lucine.

Chapter 5:

"Getting to Know you…"

"What's she doing here?"

That's what Lucine received the moment she entered the Big House. Welcoming huh? She pursed her lips and nodded to herself. Well, screw you too buddy.

She supposed it was to be expected: guys didn't usually appreciate their peers, especially the female ones, making them look like idiots.

And it made her feel just… peachy. Thanks for asking.

Well… it really did actually. She'd given as much as she'd received. Unfortunately crossing swords so to speak with the son of Poseidon wasn't necessarily the sanest of actions.

He didn't look happy to see her that's for sure; the boy could really scowl.

She smiled indifferently, simply to piss him off. It worked liked a charm.

Chiron now seated in the corner (yes seated: in a wheel chair… HOW? Or more appropriately, why?), rolled his wheels forwards as if physically sensing the decent in temperament of his favourite demi-god. "Lucine-Maximus." It was like an announcement or something. "Good of you to arrive on such short notice my dear."

Lucine scratched the back of her neck sheepishly. "Yeah, sorry I was taking to Hestia."

That seemed to throw the ancient teacher for a moment; his shaggy beard twitched and he open and closed his mouth. The great Perseus dropped the scowl to frown, momentarily diverted and looking inquisitively at the tall blonde girl standing beside him. Said girl just watched Lucine like a hawk… which didn't feel like a good thing at all.

Phil just picked at his front teeth.

"Yes, right er…" Chiron seemed to collect himself. "Percy, Annabeth, meet the newest edition here at Half Blood Hill."

Being who she was and nobody else Lucine simply rolled her shoulders and bobbed her head at the two aforementioned teens. "Hey."

"Hello." Annabeth replied courteously.

Percy mumbled something that sounded very much like 'whatever' but didn't say anything else earning a reproachful look from Chiron.

"Percy?" His brow crinkled in grandfatherly concern.

Seeing this and feeling bad for making the centaur worry after he'd been so hospitable to her Lucine waved a dismissive hand in the boy's direction. "Ah, ignore him; he's just being a grumpy puss."

Percy quickly dropped his puckered sulk to glare at the red head. "Excuse me?"

"Dirty water tastes like crap." She sniffed the air. "And we both reek."

"Yeah? And whose fault's that?"

She arched a brow. "I'm pretty sure it's yours."

"You started it!"

"No, you started it! And you finished it! I don't see what you have to complain about!" Big idiot.

She was right. He'd thrown the first and last metaphorical punch. She'd lost before she'd even begun.

Story of my life.

He didn't seem to know quite what to say in reply. Typical. She rolled her eyes.

Chiron blinked, looking to each teen. "I seem to be missing something here…"

"They got into a mud fight, not a clash of swords." Phil muttered; simultaneously unimpressed and disappointed which went completely against his outraged indignation at having missed such a sight just minutes earlier.

Thinking about it Lucine figured that if he'd have been there Philoctettes would have been found eating popcorn and taking wagers. Against me.

Chiron deliberated on this for a moment. "So in the space of time I left you alone Lucine, and the ten minutes or so after I spoke to you Percy, you both managed to engage in combat?"

Both teens feeling the reprimand coming a mile away gave stiff, stubborn nods in his direction. Surprisingly enough the kind teacher simply passed a look towards Phil.

The satyr smirked. "That's gotta be a record, right."

"Indeed." A sigh. Then he looked towards her as he gestured towards Percy. "Lucine, I wanted to introduce the two of you personally but it seems fate makes fools of us all."

Lucine wasn't quite sure she agreed with that assessment. I highly doubt that 'Fate' orchestrated the lamest fight in history, even if it was just for kicks.

Sighing she figured she should just get on with it already. "So you're Percy Jackson?" Lucine queried in an intrigued tone, as if she didn't already know. He stiffened; his arms a tight restraint across his chest as if he knew she was about to pull him to pieces. "You mean like, Thomas the Tank Engine's best friend?"

He clenched his jaw. "No. I mean like Perseus-"

"-Perseus, son of Zeus, the hero who married Queen Andromeda, saviour of Thessaly, Gorgon slayer, Kraken silencer, died by Dionysus's hand: the God of sex, drugs and rock and roll etc, yes I know."

Chiron arched a brow.

"Not bad kid." Said the satyr appreciatively, a mega-fan of sass.

"But we all knew that." Voiced Percy in confusion as his girl-friend remained strangely still as she quietly observed the scene.

Chiron worked his fingers into a steeple, his elbows resting on his covered knees. "Actually Percy, you'd be surprised by the rather large gaps in the knowledge that most demi-gods possess before they arrive here at camp. They have to be taught as I made sure you were."

Lucine smiled, ignoring the chagrined and somewhat annoyed dark haired boy in front of her and looked down towards Phil. "Did the history books get that one right?"

Scratching his rough chin he nodded. "Mostly. Oh yeah. Yeah. Sweet times."

She nodded a little fascinated but instead turned back to focus on Percy. "Isn't that a little… pretentious?" She said, continuing from where she left off with a quirked brow.

"What do you mean? I-"

Onto something she raised a finger to silence him. "But then again I did hear that you don't even like your full name which is why everyone calls you 'Percy'. You think 'Perseus' sounds ostentatious too." She gave a little head bob as if to say 'that makes sense'.

He frowned, wondering where she was going with this. "True, but-"

"And yet you were just about to use it to knock me down on my verbal ass." Lucine, so small in stature and yet she stood in front of Perseus Jackson with such unmovable conviction and interest that the rest of the inhabitants of the cabin didn't notice the difference.

"Hey! I-"

She butted in, smirking. "You know the only thing I like about you right now is your affinity for water. You couldn't possibly be as rigid as you are with a power that cool."

There was a small pause.

"From now on let's restrict any future conversations to hello and goodbye." Percy offered, irritated, grinding his teeth and looking down at her as if she were the spawn of Satan.

Thinking his reaction was a little much Lucine couldn't help but a blink up at him a few times. But then again she did have a way with making people just… not… like her.

Have it your way. She shrugged and smiled at him knowing it would further exacerbate his irritation. "Gladly Water Boy."

He jerked. "Water Boy?"

…And there; she was finished with her come back from having her face dragged literally through muddy water. Phil sniggered and Lucine swore she saw the blond haired girl, Annabeth who now stood against the wall next to Chiron, hide her mouth behind a hand.

The centaur cleared his throat looking askance.

Percy glowered.

Lucine shoved a hand through her short hair. "You know, like Happy Gilmore."

The livid glower melted off Percy's face. "Huh?"

"Adam Sandler?" She elaborated.

"Nu-uh."

"The longest yard?"

"Sorry?"

"Oh… never mind."

...oOo…

Chiron kindly gave Lucine a change of clothes: a replacement camp shirt and a pair of faded but well fitted blue jeans that she felt pretty positive about… until she was told they once belonged to a boy. Two years younger than herself. Wow, way knock down my already low self-esteem there. Just…Fantabulous. She'd always deluded herself into believing that she was a 'solid' 5 "2" but in actual fact she barely reached over 5 "1". That tiny step over the inch line gave her great pains as it hadn't moved a bloody inch. Not in several months. It was a sore spot for her. And for once, being skinny wasn't fashion forwards. It was simply a hindrance.

She found that the centaur trainer was seemingly very understanding and accepting of how quickly his students tended to need quick fixes around the camp. She'd even showered as the great Perseus Jackson had stomped off towards his own inhabitant free cabin to do the same.

Annabeth had disappeared to perform some camp duty or other or so Chiron had informed her when Lucine had turned to find both heroes had simultaneously disappeared. Apparently Annabeth Chase, despite being only fifteen was one of the senior campers who took charge over specific camping events. Percy simply tagged along with her.

Lucine pondered this for a full three seconds before dragging the clean shirt over her head.

Couldn't possibly be for the fun of it. He probably likes her.

Not that she'd ever tried her hand at precision reading the emotional dispositions of those around her but she found that Percy Jackson was very easy for her to deduce. At least when he was aggravated anyway, a response she seemed amazing apt at inducing. However Lucine found herself unable to even glimpse at the thoughts, intentions and machinations of Annabeth Chase. The girl had left her with the impression of a historian. A person perched at the edge of a scene; quietly observing but ultimately revealing nothing and quite possibly… judging her.

As if she were on inspection, except Lucine believed the act to be one completely free overall of any possible malice. Annabeth was simply a calm, careful and watchful kind of person.

Making her way down the stairs she immediately met with an impatient Phil who was leaning not so casually against the wall, close to the front door leading to the rather large porch. His tiny tail beat cantankerously against where he'd settled against, his arms were tightly folded, he was chewing on the inside of his cheek and for a satyr barely reaching three feet it was surprising how, for such a small person, his presence alone took up about as much larger surface area as the vestibule.

His eyes flickered to her as she descended the final step and he huffed. "Finally! Get a move on; I want to show you around the place." He gestured a hand for her to follow. "Come on kid. Daylight's wasting here!"

She came to a pause just south of the open door, frowning and raising a dead-pan hand in point. "Erm, it's just after twelve Phil."

"Time waits for no man! Or woman, heh, in your case girl." Stepping into sunlight his hooves clipped across the wooden beams outside. "You want me to make a hero out of you or what?!"

Needless to say she hustled pretty damn fast. And inside she squealed excitedly like the idiotic little fan-girl she was turning into. He's going to train me!

All thoughts of mud fights and perceptive grey eyes departed her mind in a flood of euphoria.

Until, that is, when he shouted up at her again from beyond the Big House front steps, arms twisting in aggravation and looking about as tall and imposing as a toddler. "Move it already!"

I can practically see the fume billowing out of his ears. She sighed. "Didn't you know patience is a virtue?"

"It is, but then it met you."

She rolled her eyes and followed him anyway; trying not to grin when he twitched at how quickly she caught up to him; in less than two seconds in fact.

They started their stroll equipped with a running dialogue provided voluntarily, even readily, by Philoctettes to which she gave rapt attention to. He pointed certain things out to her that she hadn't noticed before. In fact she figured it would have taken her several weeks at the camp before she did.

"Around back of that old utilities building you'll find the best blacksmith posting. Gotta get you a weapon. A son of Hephaestus is probably already working there… north of the canoe trail; you'll be training there, working on body strength. Can't wield a sword or throw a javelin without knowing how to distribute your strength. Oh and over there…" He pointed upwards east; a small podgy digit brushing over the landscape beyond the cabins. "…Back of there's an exercise track. I got Chiron to help build it decades ago. It's on its own so if you want some serious instruction on how to be a hero it's the perfect place."

She nodded eagerly, taking it in and soaking up the knowledge that though he hadn't openly admitted using the appropriate words that he would in fact train her, he was taking this seriously. And she was incredibly grateful, overjoyed, excited, and nervous as hell, genuinely petrified, heck yes…

They both moved past the field lines; the delicious smell of strawberries wafting in through the pleasant breeze was incredibly soothing. "You see that satyr over there?" Phil asked out of the blue.

Lucine blinked, shifting and searching the area until she found the aforementioned wild creature about a dozen metres to her left. "The one playing the reed pipes?"

"Yeah. If there's anything you need and can't get from camp, that one can definitely help you. He's a nice guy but damn if he's sly." Phil shook his head, smiling self-indulgently at some memory or other and Lucine watched him quietly, intrigued.

And then the reed player called out to them. "Philoctettes! You telling tales about me again?" His tone was enjoyable and lively but she was surprised to find that he, like Phil, also possessed a New Yorker accent. The smile on his mug stretched to a grin when he glanced her way, as if he were letting her in on a secret. "Don't listen to him. Half of them are fallacious."

Phil snorted, still smiling. "Which means half of them are true Nino."

Nino? Lucine blinked in bemusement. Sounds Italian. Like he's a member of the mafia or something. With a New Yorker accent. Pretty misleading.

"You playing poker with the guys later, Phil?" Nino continued and Lucine took a mental step back.

Poker? Seriously?! She gave herself an internal eye roll. Should have known, I guess. It is Phil after all, master of all things obvious.

She turned to look down at her right, finding Phil giving her a searching look. Finally he shook his head at his buddy. "Nah, I gotta take the green horn here for a test run. Might take a while."

With some measure of relief Lucine noticed how he didn't look remotely harassed or reluctant at the idea. In fact he seemed… settled. As if he was content or something.

Nino nodded in apparent understanding; if he knew Philoctettes well enough he probably completely understood the implications of what a 'test run' really was. But it didn't pose well for Lucine, not as anything one might term a 'fun' thing that is. "Well if you change your mind…"

Phil nodded, waving an absentminded hand both as a 'see you later' kind of thing and an amiable dismissal. "I'll know where to find you."

Teacher and hopeful student moved onwards and Nino continued playing his pipes. If she could describe the music streaming out from the instrument she'd say it was a 'fruity' kind of spell.

Unable to keep her mouth shut any longer she moved to query Phil when they were safely beyond the strawberry field. "Poker night?"

"Secret guy stuff." He responded gruffly without looking at her.

"Oh, come on Phil!" She almost whined, almost, because she would never deign to do what she'd witnessed the majority of girls at school accomplish with their tone deaf bellyaching. That is, making themselves unutterably intolerable to those around them.

He chuckled but kept his mouth closed in an attempt to stem it in a muffled sort of choke before giving up entirely. "Alright, alright." He pressed his lips together for a moment, thinking about how to best describe to her what poker night truly pertained to.

"Think… money. Lots of it. Gorgeous tree nymphs, Olympus' Best 70 proof Bacchus Wine sponsored and endorsed by the Muses themselves, and… some nudity. With videos. And various nefarious, clandestine, mixed gender games. And instruction manuals." Finished, he quirked an amused, self-satisfied brow at the expression of shell shock on Lucine's face. "Does that answer your question?"

"Ah, er… ahem, uh-huh."

Not expecting to stumble across the entire scope of this x-rated, fantasy fuelled, 'guy night' soiree particulars she decided to eat humble pie and leave well enough alone. At least until she experienced some of her own 18+ uncut episodes of insanity. She was more impressed that he'd used the word 'nefarious'.

Their route took them far past the currently empty amphitheatre (during which Phil rubbed his hands together with what Lucine swore was a disturbing amount of glee in his eyes) where open terrain led into heavy bush areas and onwards. She was surprised at how large the forest area really was. The trees were thick and close together, tall enough to probably block out the sun if you were to go inside. It took up about a quarter of the valley and looked (if you peered through the trunks and squinted your eyes) about as dark inside in the day as it would at night. At night it would probably look like a chunk of pure darkness.

Super creepy. With extra creepy whipped topping.

Phil noticed her stare and nodded carelessly "Yeah, we'll be training in there too." Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious. She decided to simply nod. "It isn't as dark inside as it appears out here but the trees are pretty close. Forces you into close quarters combat. Helps you focus and increases dexterity. You can only rely on your senses. Usually Chiron purchases a couple of Grecian monsters to roam the area for his monthly tests." He shrugged; his hands coming up beside each side of his head, upturned into a sort of weighing scale image suggesting he wasn't totally believing of what he was about to say. "Supposedly only the 'toughest'," Cue condescending quotation marks as his face pulled into a lofty but extremely sceptical scowl. "Or the 'best of the best' take part in it. Heh. Best of the best. If there's anyone here that I could rank best of the best, I've got a fur wedge."

Trying to rid her poor brain of that gross image for a moment Lucine frowned. "You don't think there are any capable heroes in camp Phil?"

The satyr rubbed the back of his neck with his left hand. "Aye…" He looked at her, his expression as moody and as irritable as before but this time it held beneath it a subtle trace of unease. "As a team there are probably a few who could work well enough together to a decent threat. But none of them, not one, could take down a hell hound by themselves."

She realised then that it wasn't unease exactly that he felt. It was concern. Concern over the welfare of the other campers.

She blinked. Wait, did he just… small, traitorous shot of pride sped through her chest when she realised his unintentional compliment, even though she'd promised herself to never become a conceited type of person. But Lucine had never imagined a time where someone such as Phil, someone who was so ancient, so experienced, who'd seen what the world had to offer and had instead chosen to spend his days in confinement at a brothel, who'd trained the most wondrous and legendary of heroes, who'd known and respected her father, who was in cahoots with Chiron the legend could ever possibly consider her, a skinny little nobody with no home, no parents and no prospects, with any kind of consideration.

The smile she gave him was tremulous and full of gratitude.

He actually blushed when he saw it; his short fur fluffed out and stood on end as he gave himself a not so subtle shake. Like a swift subconscious kick to the head, only less violent.

"Hmph! Don't go feeling special or anything! You're barely this much better than everybody else." The index finger and thumb of his right hand came together until they were about half a centimetre apart from each other. He dropped the limb and, with a sniff, trotted off away from her and her smile grew into a fond grin.

Practically glowing on the inside she caught up with him, looking at him side on once she stepped in line with his short stride. His blush wasn't receding. She cleared her throat. "So, you don't think Chiron is training them well enough?" The question posed was a tentative one; there was no insult behind it but she was confused as to Phil's claim.

He didn't take it as one. "Chiron's doing what he's supposed to be doing. The problem is that it might not be enough… if things are going to go the way he thinks they are."

"What do you mean?"

"Never you mind." He stated gruffly and by the tone of his voice she knew better not to argue about it.

Slowly, as he walked forwards, Phil's eyes took on an out of focus, pensive gaze. She watched as he cupped his chin, finger scratching absently at the ever present gruff there. His other hand grasped his elbow, keeping it steady: a practically honed habit. "Now that I think about it we should probably visit the armoury later." His eyes suddenly sharpened once more as they flickered over her lithe form. "You're kind of tiny. Probably a size five or six."

She quirked a brow. Armoury? Cool. "I'll get my own armour?"

Effortlessly his expression switched from neutral-pensive to patronising and disbelieving. "Are you kidding? It's standard issue fanfare for all new demi-gods! I mean, do you wanna get killed during basic training! And when I say basic, I mean basic. Well, that'd be a great way to go, during training. At camp. Probably the biggest embarrassment of all time. For you, I'm magic as is."

"This coming from the guy who whimpered in cowardly fear at the sight of those dragon women back at your store?" She queried acerbically.

"Hey, I'm a lover, not a fighter." He brushed none existent dirt off one arm and pointed at her with a finger from the other, squaring her a look of complete seriousness. "You're training under me now. My. Personal. Protégé. No half-assin' it Luce. It's all or nothing, so if I say you need a whole new wardrobe, then it means you're getting a whole new wardrobe. Capiche?"

His words were blunt but for some reason, to Lucine, they sounded so very comforting.

"I understand." She said with absolute respect and a soft smile.

Probably feeling like he'd somehow lost his second wind, with no adequate reason to keep it going he huffed before grumbling to himself. "You're definitely gonna need new threads. The training will ruin any of the clothes you have with you."

The right side of her mouth hitched up and she tilted her head sideways. "Nino, right?"

"You got it."

…oOo…

Eventually she and Phil seemed to gravitate towards the open Archery field. They could here the thuds of arrows hitting their targets as they approached and caught sight of a familiar blonde standing off towards the side of the range.

Annabeth was talking with Chiron who was in full centaur regalia: no clothes in sight but he was leaning his arms on a strong bow that was probably his own given how large it was. There were maybe three other students near to them, two of which were already taking aim at some very battered looking training dolls some twenty feet away from them.

Lucine sort of felt sorry for the inanimate effigies.

The area was rather large and wide open, enough to house a full platoon. Lining the back of the range was, of course, more trees and the grass was a mixture of rich green and hay yellow.

Once they were both in hearing distance Lucine watched as Annabeth gestured towards them, bringing them to Chiron's attention. His shaggy mane swished backwards and forwards around his head and he broke out into a wide smile. "Ah! There you both are."

Phil's ritual expression for casual greetings was in full effect; meaning he was half-scowling, half-smirking to his heart's content. "You were looking for us?"

"More like 'waiting' my old friend. I had a hunch that you would eventually reveal to Lucine-Maximus the various aspects of Greek warfare, and sooner rather later. With her penchant for the Bow and Arrow I considered this would be the first place you'd try."

For a moment Lucine stood stock still, eyes flickering to and fro from the centaur back to the satyr. Penchant for bow and arrows? What did Phil tell Chiron exactly that I didn't?

She was slightly confused as to the hype. I mean, it was only one Queen Cobra. Not a huge deal… right? She exhaled. I wish he wouldn't call me-

"Lucine-Maximus?"

Jolted, Lucine whipped her head around, finding herself within a few feet from Annabeth Chase who'd wandered over during her pensive probe. The two trainers of old were talking together, off to one side, seemingly in deep discussion about something the two girls couldn't hope to hear.

Why, oh why did it have to be Blonde?

It wasn't that she didn't like the girl. Lucine didn't know her from the antiquated Adam. However the curly haired teen gave off an air of composure; as if she were at one with herself in a way most youths weren't and understood within her soul her fallacies and flaws; human attributes Lucine was too frightened to explore quite yet. It left her feeling immature and awkward as hell.

Of course there was a good chance that Annabeth's careful countenance was also a symptom of her own inability to face certain realities that might be worrisome to her grey eyes. It could also be the result of years of study, or even simply a genetic trait passed down from her scarily smart mother: the Greek Goddess of Wisdom, Strategy and Tactics.

Add to this that she was uncommonly lovely with her flowing locks of hair, her athletic, almost womanly form and striking eyes (striking in the 'thou shall strike me down where I stand' kind of way), about five inches taller than herself and Lucine was pretty much intimidated as hell.

It was the comparison that she disliked, not the girl. The evaluation made by Lucine's own insecurity; her own uncertainty turned detractor. Just by sight alone, to Lucine's eyes, Annabeth was everything she wasn't and probably never would be.

Which means she's probably completely incredible all around: as a warrior, a girl, a teenager, or just a person in general. Outstanding.

Still… it also made Lucine want to know what Annabeth obviously drank to become so awesome in the first place. Thus, she immediately set about to becoming her friend. She had a feeling she wasn't the first to feel utterly worthless in the daughter of Athena's presence. It wasn't the girl's fault that she inspired feelings of inconsequentiality in the fairer sex and the more Lucine thought about it the more she respected said girl.

…Because Annabeth probably didn't have any friends outside of camp.

Three seconds was all it took for Lucine to decide all of this. She had promised her wonderful father that she would never again fall to the feeling of inadequacy brought about by the ignorance of others. It would be due to her own foolishness to allow such ridiculous reflections to prevent her from becoming well acquainted with a girl who could possibly teach her a great many things, who could maybe befriend and understand her more than most. In the absence of family, Lucine needed to make a new one, a new home…

Dad…

She cleared her throat before a genuine smile found its way across her lips. "Yeah. That's my forename. Hyphenated. Just one word really."

Annabeth almost laughed, head tilted to the side as her hair fell flawlessly about her shoulders. "Bit of a mouthful."

"Trust me; you don't know the half of it."

"You've got me interested."

"Let's just say that at certain schools it's analogous to crucifixion." She shrugged. "Call me whatever you want. There's a whole ream of names in there."

"If you'd like." Annabeth said. "You look like a Lucine… but I think the name Maximus gives you an edge."

Lucien shrugged. "To each their own. I love my name; the whole of it." Just not said all at once. "So either way you're respecting me. Thanks."

Annabeth watched her for a moment and this time Lucine didn't squirm internally. Then she nodded, as if confirming something she'd just witnessed. "Welcome to camp Lucine-Maximus."

She tried not to wince, she really did, at the use of her full name and figured getting to know Annabeth would take precedence simply to prevent it from being uttered ever again.

"Thanks." Lucine repeated.

"You're welcome."

Without much thought to it both girls turned to walk closer to the edge of the Archery course, closer to the other campers. Before they'd even reached their target Annabeth started talking.

"I'm sorry about this morning."

Lucine turned to look at her in confusion. "Huh?"

Wise grey eyes flickered towards hers for a second. "Percy doesn't usually greet people by drowning them in water."

A good natured snort rose out of her. "Yeah, I figured."

"He can be such an idiot sometimes." Annabeth sighed.

"He's a guy." Lucien replied simply, as if it were law.

Which made Annabeth smile slightly. Score. "True."

"I'm half to blame for what happened anyway. I didn't realise it before I came here but I think I'm more of a confrontational person than I thought I was." At least when it comes to guys anyway.

"I understand."

Over to their left, one of the students pulled back too far on their bow. It snapped; an audible crack that caused his arrow to whiz past the two girls and hit the tree where Chiron was standing conversing with Phil, not three feet from his head.

The centaur took a moment to glance at it without any apparent worry. He exhaled and called out. "That's the third time this month Tim."

The boy had been frozen in position with his mouth dropped open in horror until Chiron spoke to him. He dropped his arms looking mighty bashful and apologetic. "S-sorry Chiron."

"It's quite alright, but try to remember. When I suggested you extend your bow arm, I didn't mean for you to over-extend." He made a rudimentary illustration with his own bow of how it should be done. "Take it back as far as your arm allows you to feel comfortable."

"Okay. I-I will."

Lucine caught Phil giving both the boy and Chiron a look that warred between of sheer disbelief mixed in with a large dose of 'oh hell no' and hilarity. His face twitched as if it couldn't decide which expression would be more satisfying.

She brought her attention back to Annabeth who was watching the proceedings with a small frown. "So is Percy Jackson always such an idiot or am I simply special enough to earn his rancour?" Lucine inquired jokingly.

Still watching Tim, Annabeth replied. "Actually he's a pretty good guy. He's friendly with most of the campers, even the ones that annoy him. I don't usually see him loosing his temper like he did earlier."

This, to Lucine, could pretty much be translated as 'yes; he hates your guts, puny little new girl'. Yay, me, She thought. Although she had to admit that hadn't seemed all that angry earlier. More like… playful, in an extremely dominating and irritated kind of sense but…

Maybe I read him wrong. Lucine considered to herself quietly. Like Annabeth I don't him at all. I shouldn't just presume.

It took her another second to realise Annabeth was talking once again and on a guilty flash she turned back to listen.

"…he's somewhat of a hero now anyway."

Er, what? "Beg pardon?"

Annabeth glanced at her. "Last year, when Percy first came to camp he was framed for thievery."

Lucine found herself frowning surprisingly. "He's not the type."

Annabeth's stare continued without blinks to break it up. Or to decrease its intensity. Her eyes had a literal physical affect on their victim. Swell. Maybe it's something to do with her mother.

Eventually she spoke again. "No he isn't the type. It wouldn't have been that big a problem except for what he was thought to have stolen."

"What was stolen?" The girl's lavatory seat perhaps? Magic eight ball? Chiron's car keys?

"The Lightning Bolt."

It hit her in a flash.

The smell of ozone surrounding her, the sound of thunder and the smell of singed satyr hair…

Zeus's Lightning Bolt: his primary weapon and symbol of his overall power and authority. Holy…

"H-how does someone even go about doing something like that?"

Seeing her bafflement Annabeth shook her head. "It isn't what you think. In the human world such a weapon would shrink. The creations of the gods possess power to alter at will so that the eyes and ears of the public don't misconstrue the things they may see. And the gods are… arrogant. It would be insanely easy for them to drop their guard, for someone to sneak past them and take their treasures…"

She seemed to finish without finishing and oddly enough Lucine glimpsed what she thought was bitterness in Annabeth's features.

"Who actually stole it?"

She hit the nail on the head it seems. Annabeth's head almost fully turned away from her as she replied, seemingly calmly. "Another camper. He… Someone who believes that the gods are outdated and cruel."

Lucine wanted to ask for the thief's name but she had a feeling, more a gut intuition that Annabeth wouldn't answer. Maybe it was nothing but she swore she heard what sounded like understanding in the words Annabeth had uttered. As if she didn't quite disagree with them. As if the thief had been someone she'd known and that his ideas weren't necessarily spoken from the mind of someone cruel and greedy.

…That Annabeth might feel some empathy for those words and for the thief. That's were her sadness sprouted from. It was spread around her, thinly, barely noticeable. Maybe because Lucine was an outsider she was able to glimpse a hair of it.

And she'd said the word 'believes' not 'believed'. Not past tense. He was still someone Annabeth cared for… or possibly hated.

"What happened?" She dared ask.

"Percy found the Bolt and brought it back to the gods."

Her answer was simple and concise; nonchalant. Too steady and too straightforward, too neat to be considered the whole story. Sensing that Lucine was far too new to camp to further question Annabeth she took a different route.

"And that makes him a hero?" He'd retrieved something stolen and that had garnered him respect, sure, but hero worship? "Unless there's way more to the story." She frowned, struggling with the concept of Perseus Jackson as a hero; analogous to Heracles and Achilles… you didn't get labelled 'hero' for nothing. "I'm really trying to picture him in that light but…"

She caught Annabeth smiling in complete understanding, her funk over with and locked away for future introspection. "His attitude makes it almost impossible for most people to see him as such and I think he likes it that way."

"I suppose."

"Want to hear about it, the whole story?"

With various bits omitted of course.

Lucine nodded, game. "Hit me."

…oOo…

It wasn't long before the boy in question, now clean from a long shower, came wandering into the Archery grounds, as if by accident. A casual coincidence. Or at least it would have been to Lucine if she didn't know that Percy knew the exact layout of Annabeth's camp timetable. The way his green eyes lit up, even from a distance kind of spoke volumes about it.

His expression immediately soured when he spied Lucine scowling at him as if in disagreement with something he was wearing.

Annabeth was stood next to her, not quite leaning in but comfortable, as if she'd just finished a discussion on her favourite subject: graphic construction and its flaws. If there was one thing that Annabeth loved it was taking something that was good and making it better, making it great.

…Which was why it worried him ever so slightly to see her in cahoots with the tiny, red pain in the ass currently shooting flames at him.

He barely managed to say hello to Annabeth before the girl moved forwards to stare at him. She was still frowning; her strange eyes were giving him a thorough once over that made him feel slightly uncomfortable and they looked to be a little sceptical too.

And then she opened her mouth. "You. You had a sword fight with Ares?"

That came out of nowhere. He looked briefly at Annabeth who'd obvious gabbed about him and he was sure was trying not to smile.

"Yes?" He said his reply as if it were a question.

The red head's eyes flickered once again down his form and back up again. "The God of War?"

He had no idea where this was going. "Yes."

"And you won?"

"Last time I checked."

The frown on her face tightened as if she were fighting with herself internally. She bit her lip, eyes glaring incredulously at him and she nodded to herself but it seemed to be more of a forceful kind of thing, as if she were trying to convince herself he was telling the truth and that yes, he in fact had clashed with the War God himself. It wasn't impossible. It could definitely happen.

It seemed it didn't work.

"Right." She twitched before shaking her head in little sceptical jerks.

Then whirled around at speed. "PHIL!"

From across the grass the satyr whirled right back at her. "WHAT LUCE?!"

"IS IT POSSIBLE, EVEN IN THE REMOTEST OF CHANCES THAT THIS GUY COULD FIGHT IN A ONE AND ON BATTLE WITH ARES?! AND WIN! HANDS DOWN!?"

Even from where she was standing she could still see the spasm of absolutely shocked dubiousness freak out across his mug.

"THAT RUNT!?"

"YEAH!"

"BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!" Cue amazingly insulting storm of laughter from her teacher. "HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!"

And life made sense to her once again. She turned back to look at a fairly offended Percy. And smiled. "Ah… I feel better now."

He chewed on the inside of his cheek as if to keep from saying something he'd regret. Instead he said, "Go suck on a lemon."

Far commenting on the beyond lameness of his hurried comeback Lucine pulled a face, her nose involuntarily wrinkled. "Ugh, I hate lemons."

He stared at her. "That's kind of the point."

"Oh. Well then that makes sense." She nodded passively and by the look on his face he couldn't help but be completely perplexed by everything Lucine did. "So, hey!"

He blinked. "Er, hi."

She pointed her thumb to behind where Annabeth was standing. There was one kid left practising. "Want to have a go. Phil says I need the practise." He didn't quite but the implied suggestion had been there in, oh, everything he'd said to her.

For a moment Percy thought about it, looking from the training dummies to the red head before shrugging. "Sure."

"Awesome."

The words 'I'm going to have a go Phil' were barely out of her mouth before both he and Chiron were trotting over deciding for both youths that a bulls eye board would be much more efficient in determining her aptitude. There was the centre ring, the bull's-eye filled in with red, and the three subsequent rings outside of it surrounded in white. Having already retrieved a standard bow from a side unit Percy was already notching his arrow.

Lucine was watching him in intrigue. "It's supposed to be really-"

He let go of the arrow. It shot forwards and thudded into the second innermost ring.

"…Difficult." She finished disjointedly.

Chiron's smile was fond. "You are looking at the strongest young warrior at camp. This is only his second time practising Archery."

The pride in his tone was obvious.

With obvious ease Percy's arms settled down by his sides as he gazed at his own work. Then he looked back at her and just underneath his serious expression there was a challenge.

Oh, it's on.

I've decided not to be overly detailed in this story, at least not during this stage. Since I'll be going through the books my writing will automatically change into something more mature… or at least I hope it will otherwise I'm talking absolute bollocks.