There's Nothing Sweeter
Disclaimer: I own neither 'Harry Potter' or 'Percy Jackson'. All recognisable characters, content or locations belong to their respective owners. No copyright infringement intended.
Chapter Three:
True to Gwen's words, a storm raged over Camp Halfblood through the night, but in the morning, the sun shone, the ground was dry, and there was nothing to show for it but the presence of a new camper, infirmary bound and victorious against Pasiphae's son. Apparently he was just a kid, twelve or something, but then Gwen reminded herself of all the antics she and Neville had gotten up to before that age, and thought better of doubting the boy, whoever he was. After all, there was nothing like desperation and mortal peril to determine a person's strength and courage.
Whatever the case, Gwen had some far more interesting things to occupy her piss poor attention span than contemplating just how the newest camper killed the Minotaur. She'd woken at the arse crack of dawn for her usual morning run, but today, she'd opted to run along the soft sand on the beach that bordered camp, which made everything infinitely more difficult, and by the time she'd run three laps between the two mile markers, she was hot and sweaty and exhausted, her face flushed and throat parched. Regardless, she then proceeded with her usual Tai Chi routine, mentally thanked Su Lee for teaching it to Gwen, and returned to the Hermes cabin, ready for a shower and breakfast.
Over a continental breakfast of fruits, and yoghurt, and chocolate mousse and jam lathered pastries, Gwen bickered with Connor and Travis to her heart's content, was informed by Luke the plan for that day, and then instructed to eat up, because apparently she'd need the energy. And unsurprisingly, Luke was right.
Throughout the morning, Gwen had been passed through a series of activities, and the camp quickly learned a number of things about one of their newest campers.
1. Gwen was fast, though after a childhood of being habitually hunted by her ogre of a cousin and his brutish friends, that was nearly an inevitability. She couldn't out run the tree nymphs, or anything like that, but she could most certainly out run the fastest of the Hermes campers, much to Gwen's satisfaction.
2. Gwen did not like water. She loathed it, in fact, and only ever enjoyed it while in the shower, or during a thunderstorm. This was observed when, rather than try out canoeing, she absolutely refused to step foot onto the dock, let alone into a 'flimsy piece of plastic'.
3. Gwen had a disturbing appreciation for weaponry, no matter what form. She was most proficient with twin daggers (for an amateur, anyway), but if a person put a bow and arrow in her hand, or a sword, or a spear, or anything else sharp and pointy, Gwen would not hesitate to put her all into learning everything she could about handling it.
4. Gwen was competitive. Winning was her favourite pastime, and she would not hesitate to use any means necessary to achieve such an end, dirty tricks and all. This was observed when she kicked Luke Castellan in the shin to gain the upper hand in her introductory beatdown.
All in all, it had been a rather entertaining morning, and there was yet more to come, but before then, Gwen had a lunch of stuffed bread, and souvlaki, and Greek salad to look forward to, with a side of lemonade and good company.
Most of the conversation over lunch revolved around Percy Jackson, but as Gwen enthused about the climbing wall and riding the pegasus, Travis and Connor spent most of the meal teasing Gwen about her epic defeat by Clarisse in the wrestling arena.
"I should have groped her knockers," Gwen mused, "That would have surprised her well enough. Heh. I should remember that for next time."
There was a brief moment of uncertain silence, broken by Travis. "You are a depraved one, aren't you?"
Connor pretended to wipe a tear from his eyes. "I'm so damn proud."
Gwen shrugged, drained the last of her lemonade and answered, "I do try."
After she'd finished up her lunch, Gwen was called to the big blue house, where she was introduced to a blonde girl named Annabeth, informed her Greek lesson was cancelled for the day and was then invited to meet Percy Jackson, whom apparently had just woken up. Gwen wasn't really sure why she was taking Greek lessons, since she'd already learned it in her third year at Hogwarts, but she'd refused the offer to meet Percy Jackson, returned to the Hermes campers and then proceeded to reach the top of the (standard) climbing wall with a pleased grin and the question of when she could try the flame throwing one.
"Not for a while, Shorty," Connor answered, "You'll have to work your way up to that one."
Gwen blew a raspberry, thus stating her opinion on that declaration. "Poo."
"Yeah, yeah, we all suck," Travis answered, "What'd Chiron want, anyway?"
"Just told me my Greek lessons were cancelled for the day." She tilted her head, somewhat confused. "Why do I have to take Greek lessons? I can already read, write and speak it fluently."
"You'll take an aptitude test," Connor answered, "Once you've proven you can do all of that, you won't have to take the classes."
"Goodie," Gwen acknowledged, "More time for fun things."
As she said this, Chiron walked by with a wide eyed kid with turquoise eyes and curly black hair. He looked flummoxed, and rather out of his depth, and Gwen supposed he was that Percy Jackson runt who'd killed Pasiphae's son without training.
"Wonder whose spawn he is," Gwen mused.
"You don't even know who your dad is," Travis deadpanned.
"I do so," Gwen protested, "I'm just not allowed to say until I've been claimed. So suck on that, mate."
"Oh, do tell," Connor insisted.
"Nice try, chap, but you're not getting a word from me."
Connor blew a raspberry, Gwen laughed, and she wondered what their next activity entailed.
Apparently, it was arts and crafts, but Gwen had always been abysmal at anything artistic, so she mainly just wound up lobbing chunks of clay into Connor's hair while Travis attempted to smother his laughter behind too many coughing fits to be at all believable.
"Gods, you're a menace," Connor exclaimed as they left the art studio, but the amused grin on his face belied his honest opinion, "Can't take you anywhere, Shorty."
"Please," she scoffed, "Now that you know me, you're life would suck without me. Coz we belong together, yeah, forever united here somehow, yeah."
"Oh Gods, shut up," Travis groaned, "You're not even singing it and that song still sounds awful."
"You wound me, Travis," Gwen declared, hand to her heart, "Excuse me while I go hide in a corner and cry."
She pretended to storm off, but with their longer legs, Travis and Connor caught up with her easily enough, hoisted the girl between them and more or less dragged her back to the Hermes Cabin for their session of free time before dinner.
"You're both wankers," Gwen declared, deposited back on her feet in the doorway, "I hope you both eat shit and die."
They grinned as they followed her inside, but as Gwen flopped gracelessly onto Travis' bed, she noticed the new kid settled on the floor in a corner, silently fiddling with the spoils he'd received for his efforts the night before. Gwen contemplated approaching him, thought better of it - after all, she wasn't nice - and instead opted to withdraw a bag of MnM's from her satchel to munch on until dinner.
"Care to share, Shorty?"
Gwen gave Connor a squinty-eyed glare. "Fuck off, Stoll. These babies are imported from the MnM's factory in London. They're mine."
"That's so bullshit," Travis laughed and Gwen's grin was entirely unabashed.
"Besides," Gwen continued, "Doubtless you two have nicked enough sweets from the camp shop for all of us, you heathens."
"Ah, you wound us with your baseless accusations," Connor exclaimed dramatically, swayed backwards and hit his head against the frame of someone's top bunk bed.. Gwen stared for a moment, absolutely uncomprehending, then laughed, loud and boisterous, and accompanied by Travis, who was nearly in hysterics. "Ow, motherfucker. That shit hurt."
"That's what you get, dumbass," Travis chortled, "Now go shower. You still have clay in your hair."
When Connor was gone, Travis turned to acknowledge the boy, whom on closer inspection, simply looked lost and alone. Gwen sympathised, really she did, but she'd never been good with the emotional things, or the people things, really, and Gwen didn't really have a clue of how to go about cheering him up.
With a shrug, she rolled onto the floor, approached the boy and offered her bag of MnM's. "Want some?"
The boy looked at the bag, and then at Gwen, and accepted a handful of the chocolate sweets with a smile that only widened at the sight of their blue shells. "It's my favourite colour."
"Really? Mine too. Can I sit?"
He nodded, shuffled over on his sleeping bag and watched as Gwen settled herself against the wall, legs shoved beneath someone's bed and hands rummaging through her bag of MnM's. She didn't speak, because she doubted Percy wanted to hear anything Gwen had to say, and Travis had fallen asleep, so the silence lingered until the remainder of the Hermes Cabin piled in, led by Luke in high spirits and what have you.
"Better sort yourselves out," Luke called over the din, "Dinner's in half an hour."
Gwen looked herself over and shrugged indifferently, heedless of the fact her brand new Camp Halfblood shirt was splattered with dried clay and whatever else. All the same though, she pulled her hair into a more presentable braid, reapplied some deodorant and chapstick, pulled on a pair of flip flops and brushed her teeth, eager for her dinner of peta, and musaka, and other such delicious things Hogwarts would never dream of serving.
When she was ready, Gwen fell into the slowly forming line, directly in front of Percy, but behind everyone else. The boy smiled at her, but his eyes were sad, and Gwen figured his thoughts were still with his mother, who'd died protecting him. Luke led the way out of the cabin and to the dining pavilion, where Gwen helped herself to all the servings of food present, gave an offering of grapes and strawberries to Zeus and Hermes respectively, and settled back at the overcrowded table, once again wedged firmly between Connor and Travis.
"So what did you think of your first real day?" Luke queried, several seats down.
Gwen shrugged, a neutral expression on her face. Luke was nice enough, but he gave Gwen an unsettling feeling she couldn't name, like oil on her skin, and the discomforting sensation which told Gwen that Luke was a threat that she couldn't handle. "It was alright, thanks."
"I've organised your timetable with Chiron and Mr D," Luke continued, and handed over a folded square of paper.
She opened it up curiously, and scanned the contents within. It was, fortunately, in Ancient Greek. "Battle Magic?"
"For the magical campers," Luke clarified, "You can ask Alabaster about it."
Alabaster Torrington was a brown haired, green eyed son of Hecate, with a scowling disposition and an unapproachable demeanour. He lived in the Hermes cabin because Hecate didn't have one of her own, but he was a wizard, and apparently as the son of Hecate, the best in camp. In the two or so days she'd been there, Gwen had also learned that he was also an asshole, and Gwen wasn't particularly enthused about approaching him, but she supposed she'd have to sooner or later.
"Sucks to be you, Shorty," Connor laughed."
Gwen socked him in the arm for his trouble, finished up her dinner in silence and contemplated her timetable again. Aside from Battle Magic, her scheduled activities included archery and swordsmanship, hand to hand combat, the climbing wall, Ancient Greek, volleyball and scheduled free time, but as Mr D got to his feet, rattled off a series of notifications and then introduced Percy as 'peter Johnson', dismissed them all to the campfire and stalked off towards the big house, Gwen opted to put off concerning herself with her schedule until the following morning. After all, she and her new friends had some stargazing to look forward to.
Author's Note: Okay, really, I'll be easing off the stoner chapters after Chapter Four. I promise. That's when shit starts getting real, you know.
#dontdodrugs.
Reviews are love.
I was six years old in 2001. I have no memory of September 11th, because I lived in a third world country on the other side of the globe at the time, but I'll give my respect to the men and women who died that day, to the families who lost loved ones, to the friends and lovers who never got to say goodbye. Rest in peace to those heroes, and to the civilians, and I hope their sacrifice will never be forgotten.
-t.