There are quite a few ways this chapter could have gone but I just decided on the most realistic, albeit boring, one. Enjoy :D

This one diverges from 'Daughter of the Titan Sol'.

On another fairly important note, while most of the chaps so far have been somewhat chronological that will change.

Luna leaned against the wall near the tall, arched, glass window as time resumed its natural pace.

She could feel the gazes of several upon her, but her eyes sought out one and one alone.

Apollo was looking at her with a fairly confusing expression upon his handsome, youthful face and in his deep blue eyes. She looked back at him, taking in the sight of his arched golden eyebrows, slightly hidden by his tussled sandy blonde locks, straight nose, shapely face, lightly tanned, flawless complexion, and oh-so-soft, slightly parted full lips.

She felt a shiver run through her at the memory of his burning hands cupping her face gently and his lips pressed against hers. She'd felt as if a blast of hot air had washed over her when his lips had first touched hers. She was sure that she'd blushed to the very roots of her hair when they'd parted.

Apollo was the one to break eye contact and she swallowed at the rising lump in her throat as she looked away reluctantly. The sound of soft whispers occupied her mind and she took a single step forward before stopping when another rippling of air caught her eye.

But this time it wasn't beside her…

Luna stood in shock as the very air on her skin thrummed and rippled, increasing in temperature before the air grew still. (As ever since she could remember she'd never been affected by natural decreases in temperature, she then had no idea if the air had gone back to its original temperature.)

But what followed that was enough to make Luna seriously fear for her life.

It wasn't the actual attire itself; it was who she was wearing it in front of.

Oh, what have you done? She thought with a growing sense of dread as she looked down at the armour that had replaced her toga. She was now clad in a fitting breastplate that was strapped over a tunic made of very light chainmail, an armoured pleated skirt that stopped below her knees, and on her back she felt two straps of leather, that were crossed to make a X, that could be used to carry weapons. (Quite similar to the sort of carrying straps that wizards had used to carry their broomsticks during the war, at times when they would have needed their hands to be free, she noted sadly.) Dark leather boots that were fairly light and similar to hunting boots replaced her sandals.

Luna was now wearing armour similar to those that the Titans wore in ancient times. In front of the Olympians.

Just as good as a claiming, she thought wryly.

She shifted upon her feet slightly and watched the way the armour reflected the sun's light. The breastplate and skirt fluctuated between warm shades of red, orange, and yellow as she moved while the chainmail tunic gleamed a silvery-grey. Just like his eyes. Or her own, if she wanted to acknowledge the mask that hid her true self.

Luna raised her hands, palms up and felt a familiar warmth spark across the tips of her fingers before a flicker of light and heat spread across her hands and they glowed.

As if by some unknown instinct Luna concentrated on her glowing hands then flicked her wrists upwards, like someone would before they served in volleyball.

Particles of light and heat rose in the air before lengthening into a long, thin shape, before the shape dropped from the cloud and into her hands. Luna's hands curled and then tightened around the weapon she held; a three-foot long spear that glowed softly. The shaft was still warm as Luna lifted the neck towards her face, trying to define the metal of the red-hot pointed blade.

Luna gave the weapon an experiment twirl in her hands and she smiled when she thought of how right this weapon was for her. Sword fighting and archery had never been her strong points, though she could wield a dagger if need called for it.

And this way she didn't have to rely on Hecate's gift; her wand. Hecate's blessing was a dangerous one, and now that Luna knew of the Titaness' part regarding the fading of her father, Helios, she was reluctant to use it. If ever Hecate saw fit to reclaim her blessing, not only would Luna be stripped of her magic but she could also lose her life, as Hecate's blessing had been one given at her birth Luna's magic was entwined with her soul. When she died her magic died with her, if it was taken from her she would die a death that was almost unheard of.

And yet she wasn't scared…

She knew, in her heart, that the only reason Hecate would reclaim her blessing would be if Luna angered her. And as Luna wasn't planning on 'getting revenge' any time soon her life was safe. For now.

Luna looked up and met the eyes of Demeter, her mother. The Goddess of Harvest was staring open-mouthed and there was a furrow between her dark eyebrows before she smoothed out her astonished expression after locking eyes with her daughter.

Demeter blinked and then her lips stretched into what was meant to be a comforting smile. Luna smiled back as she stepped towards the Olympians. Curtseying smoothly she excused herself.

Her eyes lingered upon Apollo but she turned away before she could think upon him anymore.

She avoided the eyes of Hecate and stepped towards the crowd that stood before an exit. She wondered if her expression - try as she might to keep it indifferent - spoke truth of her turmoil, and if perhaps her expression was more fierce than even a child of Ares' as no half-mortal seemed able to take their eyes off the floor, or the walls, or even the other Gods, and be able to look her way for more than a moment.

The demigods parted hastily when she walked towards them as the satyrs and nymphs looked on.

The other Gods stared and whispered to one another when she reached them, but she ignored them and walked towards the doorway only to have her path blocked.

Nemesis, Goddess of Revenge stood before her, blood-red lips curled into a cold smirk and brooding eyes boring into her own.

The Goddess swept a curl of her rust-brown hair out of her paper-white face with an equally white bony finger, as she continued to stare at Luna, before she said, "The scales are not tipped in your favour." Her voice was quiet but like poison. The very sound of her voice would have made Luna turn to strike down the wrongdoer, whose sorceress child was the cause of her most aching woes, if she had been anyone other than a child of two Immortals.

"I know." She said in a voice that betrayed no emotion.

Nemesis narrowed her eyes before her smirk grew more chilling, "That could all change. All you have to do is-"

"No." Interrupting a goddess would have been an instant death wish for any who weren't Immortal themselves. Yet Nemesis simply pursed her lips together, glaring slightly before continuing, "It does not have to be this way. She could get what she deserves. There could be justice."

Others would think that Nemesis was referring to Hecate but Luna knew otherwise. The Goddess of Revenge was the only Immortal who could see of all the wrongdoings that had been committed against Luna as it was in the Goddess' nature.

Luna shook her head; the timing was all wrong. If she made her move now it wouldn't end well.

"It isn't to be. Not yet… A few more years perhaps…" She saw Nemesis bite back a scowl, obviously displeased with her decision, before her dark expression cleared as she saw reason.

"Very well." Nemesis said icily, nodding curtly before disappearing into the crowd.