Chapter 17: Harshness Overload: Love and War
"Ugh!" She raised a foot.
"Thalia!" a Hunter by the name of Camille, who was a daughter of Demeter, stumbled forward and snatched the poor snake from the ground. It looked at the daughter of Zeus and hissed in protest. Camille looked at her lieutenant with the face of a reproving mother. "You know you can't just kill it. We need it to lead us to Annabeth." Her face soured at the mention of the name.
"But that snake's just—ugh." Thalia gritted her teeth, glaring at the reptile. "We're taking forever. I'm almost positive it's leading us in circles." They've been walking around Memphis for days, following the snake. Now she was starting to notice that she was seeing the same tree every other day.
"He," the same Hunter who recognized the snake corrected her. "He's a he."
To which the temp-leader simply rolled her eyes. "It's not like he can talk. Worse than a boy." She swiftly plucked the serpent from the tree-hugger's grasp and dropped it to the ground carelessly. "Lead the way, o' mighty Jörmungandr." The sarcasm was unmistakable.
The animal did not move.
"Oh come on, just move it already." She prodded the snake with her foot, and it merely hissed at her, still refusing to take a step. A crawl.
Suddenly, a snap flew in from the nearby woods. The Hunters had their hands on their bows instantly. "What was that?"
Another snap. Then a rustle. Their ears perked up as faint footfalls resonated softly from around them. The lieutenant growled from the back of her throat. "Cowards," she muttered contemptuously. "What a goof."
God the Serpent let out a hiss. His head spun to a direction, stayed, as if expecting someone.
An arrow volleyed over the clearing, right by Thalia's foot. Silver. Her eyes widened in realization.
"It's a trap!" she declared in mild horror, whirling on the snake. It stared back at her innocently. "Keep your eyes op—!"
Her warning was cut short when a scream pierced through the air, cutting through any sound in the forest they were in. She turned. A silver bow was on the ground, where a Hunter used to be minutes ago.
"Shit," cursing, she gripped her bow tighter, letting out random shots, as one by one her sisters were taken the same way as the first. Fortunately and unfortunately, none made contact with the hunters, but she wasn't able to figure out where the kidnappers came from, either.
Until, Thalia was the only one left. Her hands clenched around her bow, securing it taut within her fingers. "Come out, come out, wherever you are..," she beckoned cautiously, later adding as an afterthought, "chicken."
Before she knew it, a celestial bronze net was thrown over her, encaging her like a wild animal. The holes were too small for her to shoot through, but big enough for her to see properly. She gritted her teeth in frustration, growling.
Annabeth appeared in a second on the other side of the net, staring guiltily. She picked up the snake without a second glance. "Very good."
The daughter of Zeus glared daggers at her former best friend. "Traitor," she spat, as though it was her first time truly realizing it.
"Thalia, you have to understand," the girl replied, her eyes the only things moving to look at her. "If you loved someone the same way I did, you'd do the same."
"But not so much a stupid idea as yours," the lieutenant grumbled. "I can't believe this."
"You have to," Annabeth retorted, looking down on her somewhat smugly. "Nine long years of your search for me, and you're the one captured. Your skills are getting rusty. Percy's still nowhere to be found." Her eyes became even stormier. "But better do this while your mistress is gone, yes?" Without waiting for a reply, she trudged out into the dark.
Thalia exhaled deeply as two Ordian dracaenae slithered in to bring her. They were hissing in delight when they saw the demigod caged up. "Morossss' name is alwaysss sssso effective," one was saying, carefully taking the net off of her while the other secured celestial bronze cuffs to her hands.
"Being ssssstupid as they are, they fell for it." The monsters let out a series of choppy hisses and low, almost inaudible croaks, which could be comprehended either as a grunt or as an ugly laugh.
"Wait, Moros? The god of... doom.." She broke off, her eyes widening. God. G-O-D. God of Doom. How could she be so stupid? The snake was leading them to their doom. Needless to say, it worked. Even though Annabeth was being used by Order, she was, of course, still very clever.
Speaking of whom, the girl emerged from somewhere, walking alongside the dracaenae as they dragged her off to who-knows-where. "Thalia, I have an offer for you."
"I'll shove that 'offer' up your throat when I get the chance," the daughter of Zeus snarled in response.
"If you don't want any of the Hunters dying, join me," the traitor continued, as if she had never spoken. "Let's fight for Percy together."
If only you knew, she thought irately. "I'm not as selfish as you," she replied, narrowing her eyes and turning away. "I'm already fighting for him while we kill monsters. Monsters who killed him." Well, not really.
For a moment, she saw a flash of guilt at the corner of her eye, which quickly changed into sympathy. "You're going to see your mistake soon enough, Thalia." She walked off, ahead of them.
The lieutenant scoffed. Oh, the irony of it all.
She refused to pray for help to her mistress again. For the last nine years, Artemis made it clear that they could pray to her whenever they needed help, if it was absolutely necessary. Thalia assumed that she didn't really mind, even though she was on a solo hunt, since Thalia knew that her mistress could be a good old rule flouter sometimes, be it Zeus' favorite daughter or not.
These nine years, they have come close to this situation a few times before. At one time, they were in Canada. One of them had prayed for help before they could be captured. Another, they were in San Diego, and the same thing happened. Across the continent, it happens, every few months. Foolishly, they didn't kill the snake, thinking that the thing could be useful after all since it'd led them so closely to the enemy.
Their biggest and most pathetic mistake, for a bunch of experienced hunters.
But they had to get out of this on their own this time. Thalia was determined to get the Hunters out singlehandedly. The only problem was that she didn't know where they were. With any luck, they were still breathing.
Oh, yes, the chains also. She forgot the freaking chains on her.
She staggered out the tree line. Lo and behold, before her was the Mississippi River, roaring and flowing like what all lively rivers do. She eyed the cold water warily, an idea coming to her. Dangerous, but effective, hopefully.
The monsters prodded her forward with metallic marble-colored spears. "Go."
Thalia looked at them incredulously. "Are you crazy? You want me to cross a deep fucking river?" She noticed more monsters come out of the woods behind them, with her hunters by the neck. If this plan would work, then they would have to run for it.
"No and yessss," the one assigned to keep her chains in check replied. The other leveled her spear to her neck. "Now get going."
"What're you gonna do, drown me?" the daughter of Zeus challenged them defiantly, but deliberately took a step towards the water. Two more and she'd be flowing away with the current.
The nearest bared her teeth angrily. "Wisssh to, but it'ssss not part of ordersssss."
Thalia glared at the monster, her hands shaking. She tugged them apart, but the chain link was dutifully preventing her from doing so. Her pocket felt heavier, where her mace canister was resting. If only she could reach down to it..
"Hey snaky, could you reach down into my pocket..?" she said as politely as she could, trying to keep the sarcasm from her words.
The monster looked suspicious. "Why ssssshould I do that?"
"Uh, you see.." The lieutenant racked her brain for something; something a snake would kill for. "I have a rat in—"
Quick as lightning, a scaly hand slipped into her pocket, grasping the head of the Mace canister tightly. The Ordian dracaena hissed with excitement, her forked tongue briefly seeing the light of day between her fangs, before disappearing back into her mouth. She pulled it out.
Discreetly grinning at the stupidity of the monster—be it Ordian or ordinary, they were still stupid—she channeled lightning into the Mace canister, instantly sending powerful electric shocks into the monster. It convulsed, and her spear grew, its tip elongating to pierce the monster's skull. It dissolved into silvery dust. The other monsters stepped forward.
Thalia caught the shaft between her palms. She turned to the Hunters frantically, mouthing, Go!
They spun, smashing their bronze cuffs into their captor's heads. Some hit so hard that the heads exploded on impact, while the luckier monsters staggered back, dazed. Black blood and white dust ousted everywhere. The Hunters took off at a run, sprinting to safety beyond the woods.
The daughter of Zeus took another step back toward the water as the best of the monsters charged her, while the rest took off after the Hunters. An empousa snarled at her, brandishing her celestial bronze claws. It slashed at her, and she lifted her wrist to its level—the chain link shattered and her hands were free again. She smirked.
The lone huntress stabbed the monster with her spear while the next wave closed in on her. Gritting her teeth, she ducked and evaded their attacks, mindfully watching her footwork, and raised her spear to the heavens. The call upon lightning was answered; the sky thundered, and an arc of lightning spread into many, smaller volts, whizzing into the ground with a sharp crack.
The shockwave sent every monster flying. A few of them fell unceremoniously into the river, drifted away. She knew she had no match for all of those that chose to stay and fight her, so she withdrew her spear into the canister and dashed into the forest. The rest of the monsters followed after her.
Thalia ran, the adrenaline too much for her to feel the cramp in her legs. Her eyes darted around restlessly, anxiously. Where had the Hunters run off to? Had they regrouped? Or were they separated, cold, and weaponless?
She pushed the thought out of her mind. Think positive. Maybe they were now back in the camp, packing, leaving this forest for the heck of it. Leaving her alone. Not that it mattered; a whole group living without her was better than all of them dying. On that happy note, she picked up her pace, hearing faint footfalls behind her.
The rumor about the treason had long before spread. Some wonder how the news got to them so quickly, but mostly they don't think about that.
Twenty-one years ago, she was hailed as a Heroine of Olympus, helping their very hero and savior overcome the trials of the Great Prophecy and live through the Second Titanomachy. Twenty years ago, she was again hailed as a Heroine of Olympus, but twice-over; again with their very hero to stop Mother Earth from rising, ending the Second Gigantomachy, but having great losses.
And ten years ago, she was hailed as the Traitor of Olympus.
They don't know which was more incredulous: her turning into a traitor after serving the gods in two great wars—or the fact that there is a new, more vicious and more destructive war looming over their heads.
Where was the help? The son and heir of Chaos? Should they wait for another decade?
The camps were tired, and they knew they would break, soon enough.
Their numbers were increasing too, of course. With the new and combined Greco-Roman Camp Perseus, named in honor of the greatest hero in the modern age and the Greek/Roman mythology world altogether, new demigods were coming in fast. Whether a child of Rome or Greece, everyone was accepted. Demigods were treated equally. Leaders were chosen democratically.
If only there wasn't a looming war, people were free to call it peaceful. There was not the least bit sense of normalcy when children, ages as young as six and above, trained with sharp blades and dangerous magic and played on killing fields. Once you find out you were a demigod, your childhood would've already been stripped from you. The later you find out, the better, if you were only thinking of that childhood of yours; but when we're talking about lives, the sooner, the better, if you don't want to encounter a monster without any training, and be killed earlier than many people would, and wasting this 'childhood'.
But of course, the best would happen if you wouldn't know in the first place.
The world gave a literal meaning to the saying, 'Ignorance is bliss.' Once you find out you're one, your scent would become stronger, and the monsters would come for you. Discovering yourself was safer in the last generations, since only normal monsters would come for you—the downside is you'll have to face two or three wars. But there was a better chance that you'd survive to train for these wars.
Until now; at this time, many newly discovered half-bloods barely live for two hours. Stronger, faster, larger monsters called Ordians are the ones pursuing you, and it takes more than just a satyr to protect you from a bunch.
But still, learning about the traitor heroine was a serious demotivation. The more determined ones train harder in order to live, wanting to be the hero or heroine to replace this turncoat. Some get to camp, and train just for the heck of it, but the weaker-willed ones try to kill themselves to escape the war. Thanks to friends and family, many attempts of that have been stopped.
Happy life, huh?
But the camp has methods to rile its kids up. The immortalized campers sit down on couches, stage some plays and enactments, all about the hero that the camp was named after. They inspire the campers to grow up like him: noble, just, and strong. Younger and older alike were impressed and awed with him. They treat him like a god. They try to live up to his deeds.
They don't fear death, just as he didn't. They give respect to those who earn them. They don't gloat about their accomplishments. They care for each other, like a big family.
Olympus is proud of them.
Arc was unhappy. His father was in the throne room again, talking to Chaos, but this time it wasn't about missions. He was almost positive that it was about him.
What had he done wrong? Unless it was about the sweets that he stole from his father's room a few hours ago, which had a note from a person named 'Moony'. He wasn't sure if it was special or anything, but because of his infamous obliviousness, he took it anyway. It's not like they couldn't make some with a snap of their fingers.
"Ugh, can't you stand still for a moment? I'm getting dizzy."
That was his cousin, Enkeli, daughter of Nyx and goddess of dark angels. Yeah, Nyx and angels made a weird combination. In Arc's opinion, her personality was also a weird combination. She was a masochist, a great healer, an obsessive fashion girl, and liked the color yellow. Sometimes she was scary; sometimes she was fun to have around. On his dumb days, he wondered if she was a menopause baby.
"This is my room, so," he grinned at her smugly, "my rules."
The girl rolled her eyes and dimmed the lights. "A guest should be treated with her rules," she retorted.
On instinct, he conjured up a ball of flame. Fire was always his favorite element. And besides, he couldn't use light right now since he didn't want his guest (despite the fact that she barged in the place) to get disconcerted. She could send a bunch of badass angel babies. He shuddered inwardly. "Fine by me," he replied, having summoned the flames for the mere fact that he was uncomfortable with the darkness. He sat next to her on his bed. "Can you hear them?"
"Um." She cocked her head to the side and leaned closer to their direction. "Not really."
"But you're a goddess! Can't you do it?" Arc hated saying that she was one. It was practically giving her the right to gloat about it. He wasn't jealous since he already had these cool powers and all—but it still annoys him.
Enkeli cleared her throat, looking slightly pleased. "I don't, except, of course, if you want me to come closer?" Her black wings flapped absently.
He frowned and shook his head. "Never mind. I'll just ask him."
She nodded, looking like she didn't care about it anyway. "Hey, I've been reading these books, and you know—"
He groaned inwardly. Books again.
"—they're talking about angels. Or half-angels, maybe. But yeah. There were also demons."
"A movie?" he asked, just to annoy her.
"No, duh. That's Angels and Demons. And I said a book. Dummy."
"A book-turned-motion-picture?"
She threw her hands up exasperatedly. "I'm not telling you anymore, whatever."
A knock came at the door. Arc stood up and pulled it open. His father stood there, looking grim. "Arc, Enkeli, my mother needs you both at the throne room. Now." And then he was gone.
The boy looked at his cousin, who was shaking her head in exasperation. "If he only went here to say all those, then left as soon as he could, he might as well call me a demon." They strode to the throne room with wide, fast steps. When they reached the room, they saw that only Chaos, Percy, and Nyx were there. That gave them a little hope that the matter wasn't as big as it seems.
Oh, how wrong they were.
"Good, you're here," Chaos said, looking impatient. "Now, there is something we need both of you to do. But, ah, where should we start?"
"Maybe we should explain what's happening first," his foster father suggested, tapping his foot agitatedly. His muscles on the arm were tense from where they rested, crossed in front of his chest. His jaw was clenched. Something bad is happening, Arc realized, and it has something to do with me.
Nyx provided them both with a long tale that must've lasted for half an hour (though he was sure that it was already a shortened) about Chaos' brother who wants to eliminate the planet called Earth of all evil (a.k.a. Chaos' creations) and replace them with his own. She told them of how he was going to wipe them out methodically: from demigods, to gods, to titans, to mortals, and to everything else. And she told them that Chaos had promised the help of her son and heir after his training.
"Why are you telling us this then?" Arc asked, frowning. "Unless you're telling us that Dad's leaving right now.."
"No, no, I'm not leaving." Percy shook his head. "Not yet, at least. Until Chaos says that I'm ready, then that's the time I would be."
"Then why?" Enkeli asked this time. "It's not like we're going to be a part of this war thing. I'm a goddess. Arc is Percy's son. I mean, sure, he has the right to know that his dad's going away someday, but if it's not now, then why?"
"Exactly," the heir of Chaos exclaimed, beaming at her. "You're not part of the war. That's what I've been trying to tell them. I like you." The daughter of Nyx grinned at her uncle.
"But Son, I've told you that we need someone to replace you from going—"
"And it's not going to be Arc!" Percy protested fiercely. "Mom, he's just a boy. He's too young. He can't fight a war by himself."
"You were his age when you fought in the Second Titan War," the creator responded. Even now, his father's achievements still astounded him. But wait—what were they talking about; a replacement? "And he's not going to be alone. You've seen Olympus build a camp of a mixture of Roman and Greek. Plus the separates. They'll fight with him, just as your friends fought with you."
Percy sighed, shaking his head persistently. "This is different. Order is stronger than Kronos and Gaea combined. You won't send him."
"Wait, what? What sending? Send me? Send me to a war?" the grandson of Chaos asked in bewilderment. He didn't like the sound of that, not one bit. He supposed that his father didn't too, and that was why he was so obstinate in convincing his mother to stop.
"I'm making sure she won't," his father answered him, not taking his eyes off his mother's.
"He can handle himself, Percy." The creator sighed wearily. "He is very powerful. Nearly powerful than you."
"I don't care how powerful he is; you won't send him down there." His father was awfully persistent. In truth, Arc wanted to go, if it meant going to Earth and meeting more demigods. He didn't know if he was strong enough, but he'd make sure.
"I want to go, Dad," Arc stated. Percy looked at him helplessly. "Dad, I want to see Earth. I want to fight with them. I'll fight for them, if that's what I need to do," he shifted his gaze to Chaos, "as the grandson of the creator."
The son of Chaos exhaled a shaky breath. "Arc, you don't have to do this—"
"I know," he replied quickly, smiling. "But I want to."
They had a stare-down, both willing to stand up to each other until the other would cave in. They were like that for maybe two minutes, when someone spoke up.
"You know Unc, if you don't want Archie to mess up here, I could always come with him." They turned. It was Enkeli who spoke. She smirked. "A boy always needs a girl to keep things clean."
For a moment, Percy wondered if she knew about his relationship with Artemis.
"Come on, Dad," Arc pleaded. "I train for something. I complain that training is hard, and you say that it's only the beginning. I know. The real world is where you can see how much you've learned, how strong you really are. I want to challenge myself."
"And what if something happens to you?" he retorted softly. "Arc, you're my first and only son, ever. Even though you're adopted, I feel a connection to you and I'd hate it if something happens to you. I won't be able to take it if you.." He left it hanging.
The boy knew what he meant. "I know that. But Dad, you have to let me do things on my own for once. I'm sixteen. I can do this," he said, his resolve firm. Then he directed a smile at his cousin. "But I want Kelli to come with me."
The girl beamed at him, and looked at her uncle expectantly. The son of Chaos frowned, running a hand over his eyes wearily. "I'll think about it," he murmured, turning to his mother. "You'll respect any decision, yes?"
The creator nodded. "Of course. You're free to choose, anyway." She shrugged, turning her back on him to go back to her throne. "Whether you let Arc go, and provide an immediate reinforcement for the poor camps, or you go yourself after your training, which could take after another year, and a possibility that the camps could be very well done for." There was a smirk in her voice. "Your choice."
The heir sighed heavily and closed his eyes for a brief moment, before padding out of the throne room, grumbling about exhaustion and lots of choices. It seemed ironic that a couple of years ago, he had hated not having to choose.
The three remaining occupants in the room stared after him. Arc blinked. "He does sleep a lot nowadays.." Remembering something, he looked at his grandmother. "Hey Grandma, who's Moony?"
Chaos choked, obviously trying to hold back a laugh. A shout came from outside, specifically at the Prince's quarters. "Who took my sweets?!"
Panting, Thalia fell to her knees by a creek. Once checked that the coast was clear, she dipped her hand. The soft, running water sifted through her fingers. She cupped a handful and drank.
She then splashed some into her face, washing off any more signs of weariness and grime. A branch snapped from her right.
She went rigid. Blinking the water from her eyes, she reached for her bow. A teenage girl emerged from the bushes, her hands up in surrender as Thalia leveled her bow to her. The daughter of Zeus would've put it down, but the girl was wearing a dark kind of armor that had a feathery look. Definitely not ordinary.
"Who are you?" Thalia asked mistrustfully.
The girl narrowed her eyes at her tone. Then, appearing to remember something, her eyes broadened back a bit, and a corner of her mouth lifted. "Angel um, Angel Night... shade."
Thalia's eyes widened in shock. "Are you related to Zoë?" she asked without thinking. Then she mentally smacked her forehead.
Angel's smile flipped in confusion. "How do you know her?"
"No, I'm sorry I wasn't thinking—" she stopped. "You know Zoë Nightshade?!"
The other girl had an expression like, duh, and was about to reply when a teenage boy leaped out of the bushes and slapped a hand over her mouth. The daughter of Zeus raised her bow again; she must've been subconsciously lowering it while she talked. The boy hissed some words into her ear, words she couldn't make out, and the girl looked shocked. She nodded absentmindedly.
The boy turned to her apologetically. "Um, sorry for my friend—"
An arrow whistled past his head, making his eyes widen to the size of saucers. The boy grabbed his companion's arm and ran, shouting back, "Sorry again but I think we need to run!"
Thalia stood there for a second, staring after them in disbelief. She glanced back at the arrow just as someone bent down to pick it up. It was Phoebe.
The daughter of Ares sent a suspicious once-over at the retreating forms of the two, and then smiled at her. "Glad to see you've escaped, lieutenant."
The lieutenant nodded distractedly. "Where are the others?"
"We've regrouped. They're at someplace in the forest," she replied, pausing. "Do you want me to get them?"
The daughter of Zeus glanced around the area. She hadn't noticed before that it would make a good camping ground. "Yeah. Set up camp here."
Phoebe nodded dutifully, turning, and was about to trudge off, but hesitated. "Are you sure you want me to leave you?" she inquired apprehensively. "You can come with me and I'll just retrace our steps."
Thalia shook her head. "No. I'll make sure it's clear," she answered firmly. "We don't want an ambush."
Convinced, the daughter of the war god took off without another word.
The lieutenant sat down, keeping a hawk's eye out for everything. She could use this time alone to think.
Who were those people? She never did get the name of the boy, but the girl's name was Angel Nightshade. The girl knew about Zoë, but she looked the same age as when Thalia became a Hunter. Sixteen (or one day from, rather). So should she be about thirty-nine years old, maybe, if she knew her personally? But no, she was sixteen, unless of course, she was at Camp Perseus..
But she'd never seen her before there. And she spoke of Zoë as though they were good friends, not someone to idolize. And who was the boy? How did he know that it was Phoebe who had shot him, not an Ordian monster?
A scaly hand clamped over her mouth and forced her head upwards. She protested as another pair of hands groped her wrists and tied them behind her back. She kicked out, and her foot connected. Some hisses came out, and there was a sharp sting in her right arm. A snake bite.
Thalia cried out, her screams muffled through the thick fingers covering her mouth. She could already feel the burning sensation the poison was bringing her as it spread through her system. The monsters did the weird laughing sounds, and then a blindfold came out of nowhere and settled itself over her eyes. The hand on her mouth retreated.
She gasped. "Where are you taking me?" she demanded as she stumbled on roots while the monsters ushered her forward through the overgrowth. She made a mental note that thinking of monsters was just as bad as saying their name.
"Base camp," a monster's husky voice said, not intent on saying more.
The lieutenant of Artemis quieted, trying to trace the path they were taking. It was hard, to say the least, and she couldn't fight back without seeing anything. The poison wasn't helping.
As if knowing what she was thinking, the monster with the husky voice scoffed, a sound of a terrifying bark. "Torture bite. Pains and weakens but never kills."
She shuddered. "What are you? Who are you?"
The monster didn't answer. There was a scuffle beside her, and another, furrier hand pressed itself to her mouth, cutting off her air supply. She thrashed, feeling herself dim into blackness, but not before a warm breath ghosted over her ear, making her shiver.
The last thing she heard before fainting was:
"Luke."
"I think I may have just made the worst mistake of my life."
"Which is?" Artemis asked breathlessly, tired for the first time after a long sprint with him. He was seriously getting better. And a part of her hated it.
Percy grinned at her. "We have kids."
Her heavy breaths turned into a coughing fit, making him sputter a laugh. She whirled on him. "What's so funny?" she demanded indignantly.
"I'm sorry, I was kidding—"
"Don't kid about those kinds of things!" She smacked him hard at the back of the head. "You nearly gave me a heart attack!"
"Sorry Moony," he apologized, though he didn't look like it despite the growing bump on his head. He was still grinning. "But yeah, I made the worst mistake of my life."
"What? You ate my sweets?" Artemis joked. The sweets were to make him fall hardly in love with more sweets to the point that he would crawl for more, and make him look stupid doing so in general. But of course, he didn't know that.
"No! I let them get stolen!"
"Who stole it?"
"Uh, Arc. You know? My adoptive son?"
"Yeah.." She nodded slowly, a mischievous smile forming at her lips as she thought of the possible scenes this boy could go through. It was still better if Percy himself got it, though.
Percy looked at her cautiously. "Are you planning something?"
Artemis shook her head, her smile fading. "Nothing," she said, sitting down. "Well, my hunters still haven't found Annabeth."
His expression turned serious at the sound of her name. "So I've heard."
"I'm getting her myself."
"What?" He sat up, alarmed. "It's too dangerous. You might get captured."
The goddess of the hunt winced at the memory. "If it's dangerous for me, it's even more dangerous for my hunters," she remarked, plucking some grass around her absently. "What leader would not look after her followers?"
"A good one, I guess," he answered. "Since she trusts her hunters to do as she would—"
"It's not about trust," she interrupted. "It's about safety, Percy."
Percy fell silent, looking down at his feet. The moonlight shone upon them as it always does, illuminating his hair into a silvery blonde. His multi-colored sea-green, silver and black eyes glittered, paling. His skin turned ivory, making his dark blue T-shirt look more like black. The lines of his body were more pronounced, which made his chin extra pointy, his muscles defined. A silver ring identical to hers gleamed on his left ring finger.
It only occurred to her then that she had actually never stared at him before.
Artemis had seen many good-looking men, even better looking than Percy does. There was someone who could match his dark windswept hair, and there was also someone who could match his eyes. Yet again, there was someone who could match his smile. But what attracted her to him was how he carried himself, how he acted contrarily from other men. It was his aura of humility and respect that made a difference.
If this were last time, she would've thought that men had no chance of redemption. That they were all the same: prideful, unfaithful, selfish, vile, and careless. She was sure she'd thought of this before, on how he was different; and she couldn't stop thinking about it.
"I'll send them help."
The goddess blinked. "What?"
Percy smiled at her patiently. "I'll send your hunters some help," he repeated. "That way, you won't have to go through all the trouble."
"I'm their leader," she protested. "I have the right to go through all the trouble, just to help them."
He frowned. "I won't stop you then," he replied. These days, he has gone very easily hard to convince. Sometimes it annoyed her, sometimes it helped. This was one of those times. "But you can't stop me either. The help is already there."
Her eyebrows lifted in surprise. "That fast?"
Chuckling, he shook his head. "I haven't instructed them yet, but they're already there. Helping with the war, in general," he explained, grumbling something afterward about danger and kids. "I'll tell them to go when we wake up."
"When we?" Convinced of his protective resolution, she asked flippantly. Her lips curled upward lovingly.
"Well, soon enough, when all is real, we'll be waking up. Like, side by side." He shrugged. She quirked an eyebrow. "How so?"
The heir of Chaos grinned at her, taking her hand delicately in his bigger ones. He lightly ran his finger over the metal band that surrounded her ring finger, as though thinking of many ways on how to make it look better in his eyes. "Next time I'm giving you one, I'm going to kneel."
Artemis flushed. "And when would that be?"
"As soon as I meet you in front of your dad."
She opened her mouth, and then closed it again. "W-what?"
He flashed her another blinding smile, even more blinding than her brother's, in her opinion. "Well, that way, I can show him that I'm worthy to be the husband of his beloved daughter, and.." He paused to think.
But the goddess wasn't in the mood to wait. Roughly, she yanked on the front of his shirt and pulled him to her, their lips meeting. He made a startled noise at the back of his throat, but eventually responded. His hands snaked around her waist, pressing her petite body against his muscular physique. She dug her thin fingers into his hair, smooth, tangled locks slipping through her fingers.
She loved it when he held her like that. Like she was a fragile thing, meant to be housed and protected. She loved it when their bodies pressed, their curves connecting perfectly like two puzzle pieces. It felt like they were two puzzle pieces. She loved the feeling of his strong arms around him, the warmth of his body, and the relaxing feeling he gives when—
Her insides jumped. She broke away, gasping; she glanced over him accusingly. So much for the relaxing feeling.
Percy frowned at her, wondering what was wrong. It was then when his finger twitched that he realized what was going on. He smirked at her mischievously.
"Jackson," Artemis said threateningly, padding back. "You don't want to do that."
He grinned at her, approaching her slowly, shoulders hunched like a predator. "But I do."
"You do not."
"What are you gonna do about it?"
"You'll regret it."
He said nothing more, but raised a finger. That was it. Artemis lunged at him, catching him by surprise. Oh, and his hand, too. They wrestled, rolling on the grass. It hadn't been long before Percy was lying on his back, his hands above his head, and her knees straddling him. She smirked. "I told you you'd regret it."
The heir blinked and tried to stupidly glance upward at his hands, knowing it was impossible. It was obvious that he was hiding his disappointment. The goddess rolled her eyes. "So what, I'll be your servant now?" he asked.
Artemis raised an eyebrow, mildly surprised that he gave up so easily. "Unless you do something about it."
His mouth curled upwards impishly. "Something." A pair of shining mass of black and silver slipped out of his back like two kids playing hide-and-seek. They extended up to ten feet on his either side, and folded themselves inward, like the blooming of a flower from adult to bud. It enveloped them both in a cocoon, and all those happened before Artemis could blink.
Her knees gave out and she fell on him, who secured her in his arms. She glanced cautiously at the wall encasing them. "These are your... wings, right?" He had made it a point when he first showed it to her that his wings were super duper ultra mega (and all that jazz) sharp. If he wasn't lying, then maybe she could've been torn into shreds had she not acted upon instinct.
Percy hummed into her hair, indicating a positive response. "This was all I wanted to do, really," he admitted.
The goddess frowned, though he couldn't see it as her face was buried in the crook of his neck. "You could have asked."
"And you'd let me? I don't believe you."
"I'm letting you now, am I not?"
"That's because I have my wings over you. Otherwise, I'm sure you're slapping me."
"Oh really," she remarked, smiling delicately.
"Kiss me," suddenly, he prompted, lifting her off him, "do it."
"Why should I?" she joked, although feeling a bit annoyed. "You're the boy. You lot like to do those kinds of stuff."
Percy smirked, looking away playfully. "Okay. Let's just see who caves in first when you're the one on top, eh?"
AN: Thank you for reading, have a nice day! ~SmartzyFan