So I know I haven't updated in like FOREVER. I'm not even kidding. Jeez, I know, I'm so sorry. I was planning to update for a Christmas present, but life took over and yea. I feel bad now. But I am determined to bring you lovely readers a new chapter! Shoutout to my BFF KitKatWei, whose stories are awesome. Go check them out. :)

HESTIA

The goddess of the hearth and home was minding her own business—as usual.

Though the other gods would probably have found her little fireplace lonely, in the cold throne room of Mount Olympus, Hestia didn't mind. She was used to the solitude, and it was nice to have some peace and quiet to sort out her troubles. She didn't have any herself, but the gods did—and their problems were her problems.

Hestia sighed as she shifted her sore legs. Deciding to leave her fire for now, she closed her eyes and pictured the fire at Camp Half-Blood.

When she could feel cool wind on her face and grass under her hands, she reopened her eyes and observed the camp. One thing she liked about being overlooked was that people talked in front of her. They didn't mind her learning their secrets, and she didn't mind keeping them. Hestia kept many secrets, though none of them were hers. She had nothing to hide from the world, and some of its inhabitants confided in her as a result.

But when Hestia looked around the camp, she could see no demigods at all.

That troubled her. There were always demigods around. Some even saw her, and stopped by for a chat, a cup of hot chocolate, or just to have a shoulder to cry on or someone to let it all out to. Hestia had seen it all before, and she remembered with sympathy the many demigods who had come to her seeking aid. She'd tried to give them that aid, and hoped she had succeeded.

Where were those demigods now, she wondered? Where were all the demigods?

The camp was silent. Well, not quite. There was noise coming from the mess hall, and Hestia waved a hand at the fire in front of her. It glowed brighter, shifting and changing colors until she beheld the view out of the fireplace in the mess hall.

Chiron was making an announcement. Hestia watched curiously as he explained that Gaea had been defeated.

Hestia felt an overwhelming surge of relief. She had feared for herself, and for the earth; Gaea had been dangerous, and now she had been conquered by the Seven. Hestia remembered Percy Jackson, who had come to her and entrusted her with Pandora's pithos. Ever since, she had held a special affinity for the young demigod.

Then Chiron said that two Greek demigods had died.

Hestia sighed with sorrow. Any death, no matter how insignificant the person might have been in their life, was worth mourning. She firmly believed that loss of life was a horrible thing, and she tried the best she could to preserve it and nurture it. She was the goddess of the home, and of an extent, family. Hera didn't have the heart to really be that goddess. Hestia knew that she herself at least tried.

Chiron said it was Percy and Annabeth who had died, and the room fell silent.

Hestia felt as if her heart had cracked a little. Percy had been a brave demigod, full of kindness, loyalty and strength beyond his years. He had deserved a little while longer on earth, though Hestia suspected he would be happier in Elysium. At least he would be with the girl he loved.

Annabeth was an interesting demigod. Wise, clever, and strong, too; Hestia held pity for her after what Luke had done. His intentions had been good, but his methods had not.

Now they were dead, and Hestia took a private moment to mourn the loss of two such amazing lives, now snuffed out forever by the atrocity that was war.

Hestia hoped that the camp would be able to cope without their two heroes. Percy and Annabeth had become legends to the demigods. But life would move on, of course. As on Mount Olympus—some of the gods would no doubt be less happy than others, but they would move on. Life would move on. Life always changed, dreams disappearing and hopes dying out.

Hestia hoped that the world would be alright again.

She would try to help, but for the meantime Hestia was willing to simply sit contentedly at the hearth.