Smut Warning
The Forgotten One
Chapter Fifteen: Battles
Aita bit back a gasp as Hemera ran her lips over his cock, tongue running up and down his shaft. They were on her bed (though it could now be called "their bed" since they hardly ever left it), clothes strewn about the room in various places. (Aita took a particular pleasure in seeing her black bra hanging off a lampshade.)
Hemera pulled her mouth away with a loud smack as she pumped him. "You gonna cum, baby?" she asked, lips turning up in a smirk as she continued to stroke him.
"Not if you don't get your mouth back to work," he said, taking a hold of her head and forcing it toward his shaft. She smiled and took it all in, slurping. She brought a hand down to her core and began to lightly play with her lower lips, moaning sweetly as she did so.
After a few minutes Aita felt something rumble within him. "I'm gonna—"
He pushed her head to his base, keeping her from pulling away. "Swallow it," he commanded, looking down at her. She hummed in acknowledgment and swallowed, her throat working. "All of it?" he asked.
She pulled back and stuck her tongue out, showing him the contents of her mouth. He smiled and said, "Keep your tongue out." He pulled her up and crashed his lips against hers, tongues battling for dominance. Hemera hooked her legs around his waist, and he buckled under the sudden weight. They fell onto the bed, Aita on top.
He reached down and took a nipple in his mouth, rolling his tongue over the hardened bud. Hemera said "Mmm" in pleasure and began running her fingers through his hair. Aita moved to her other nipple, biting into it softly, eliciting a startled gasp from the primordial under him.
"Okay, big boy," she said, "it's my turn." She flipped them over and straddled Aita. With a seductive wink, Hemera lifted herself onto him, sliding down his length. She slowly began bouncing up and down, her breasts rising and falling with the rhythm of her body. Aita grips her hips and began to push and pull, making her go faster.
She reached down and lifted his head to hers, entwining their lips in a passionate dance that tasted as sweet as honey; she ran her hands through his hair, pulling it painfully when he hit a particularly sensitive spot. Her nipples were pressing against his chest, and Aita reached down and cupped one of her butt cheeks with his hand.
She gasped and bit his lip as their orgasms came, and they collapsed on the bed. She curled into him, letting out a tired—yet happy—sigh. "You ready for part—" She sat upright quickly.
"What's wrong?" he asked, looking concerned.
"It's starting," she said seriously. "The giants have awakened Gaea. The gods are there, and they're fighting."
Aita sat up straight. "Then let's go."
-o-
Below him, the gods and giants were fighting in the middle of Athens. There were dozens of giants and just as many gods, each battling away to their heart's contents. Demigods fought with them. At Poseidon's side, Aita saw Percy Jackson, fighting against two of the smaller giants. With Athena was her blonde daughter, fighting with a sword made of bone. The Fates were bludgeoning an old giant with large brass clubs. Aita fought down the urge to laugh when he saw that.
Soon the battle was winding down; Father was fighting with his son, same with Ares and Hephaestus. The daughter of Aphrodite was beating back a female giant with a hunting knife while the goddess of love floated around on a cloud. Then, from across the acropolis, Aita saw her.
Hecate was fighting with the daughter of Hades. Pluto, he reminded himself. She wore a dark black dress that hugged her figure perfectly. She danced gracefully between the giants, setting them aflame with her torches. A small smile was gracing her face, and Aita felt himself grow tense.
She cheated on us! he told himself. She abandoned us! We hate her! He felt a lump form in his throat. No, we don't, he realized. We love her. We love her more than anything. Right then, he wanted to go down there, grab her, kiss her, hug her, fuck her, he didn't care. He didn't care that the world could very well be ending, he didn't care that the entire Greek pantheon was down there.
All he cared about was having her again.
Not far away, his brother and sister were firing arrows into every giant that crossed their path. Artemis looked resplendent in a silver gown, while Apollo was adorned in a golden toga, a crown of laurel leaves in his hair. If he could get to them, he could help them. They'd be a team again, as they had in the old days, with Apollo laughing and joking with him and Artemis teaching him how to be kind and just and hunt.
"No, Aita," Hemera said from behind him.
"Why not?" he asked childishly. "The giants are gone and all that matters is Gaea, and the demigods will take care of her shortly."
"Python," Hemera reminded him. "He still lives, and if given the chance, he'll escape to some other part of the world and he'll be gone for good."
He scoffed. "Please, my sister is the greatest tracker in the history of the world. She'll find him, and when she does, I'll kill him."
"No, Aita, "she said with a shake of her head. "Once you return, they'll never let you out of their sight again. The gods don't care for Python; they consider him an inconvenience, not a threat. Only you and Apollo truly understand how dangerous he is."
"Then he and I will kill him together."
"No. This must be something you do on your own." She put a hand on his shoulder. "But once that's done, I promise you, you may return to Olympus." She looked down below. "We must go. Gaea has risen, and the demigods are on their way back to their camp."
Aita closed his eyes, hands clenching into fists. Soon, he promised, turning. "Very well."
Hemera gave a nod. "Good. Come."
The last he saw of his family was when Father was over a hundred feet tall, smacking a wooden ship across the planet.
-o-
The Greek and Roman demigods were united on the crest of Half-Blood Hill, surrounded by a sea of monsters; two-headed men, ogres, centaurs, and others. At the head of the Greek lines was a boy with dark hair, slashing through monster after monster with a dark sword. Near him, Praetor Reyna was fighting on her Pegasus, bellowing orders left and right.
The seven were there too, fighting alongside each other. The Argo II was a smoking wreck in the middle of the woods. Aita didn't see the son of Hephaestus, but he was certain the boy was still alive.
"How much longer?" he asked, not looking away from the chaos that was broiling below him.
"Soon," Hemera said from beside him. "Are you three ready?"
The Fates murmured in confirmation, huddled together. Then, they silently approached the god, held out their hands, and held out the string, scissors, and needles of Fate.
"One shot is all it will take…" said Clotho.
"…to send the Earth Mother back to her sleep…" continued Lachesis.
"…but the shot must reign true, for if you miss…" said Atropos.
"…then the world is doomed," they all said together.
The instruments began to glow white, nearly as bright as the sun. Then, they seemed to fuse together, turning into a long, elongated piece of wood, with a pointed head and string fletchings.
"A Fate Arrow," Aita said in wonder, taking hold of the arrow. Such a weapon had seldom been used, and only for emergencies.
Hemera nodded. "Capable of completely wiping a being from existence. If you can manage to hit Gaea—"
"—then there's no chance of her ever returning."
"Exactly."
"Very well, then."
He summoned his bow and notched the Fate Arrow. For several more minutes they watched as the forces of the Greek and Roman camps battled together against the onslaught. Suddenly the ground all around them seemed to rumble and shake, staggering the camps and the army of monsters.
Awake, a voice boomed from all around them.
"She's coming," Hemera said, pointing to the hill where the Athena Parthenos glittered gold. Next to it, a massive woman took shape from the earth—dress made of grass blades, quartz-white skin, tangled brown hair like tree roots.
"She's here," Aita said, readying his bow.
"Little fools," Gaea said, opening her eyes; grass-green as springtime. "The paltry magic of your statue cannot contain me." She spread her arms, and the entire hill—perhaps the entire world—rippled like waves on the ocean, knocking down demigods, monsters, and machines. The heroes tried to organize themselves, but Gaea was more than they could handle. "The whole earth is my body. How could you possibly fight the—"
Just then, a massive golden dragon snatched up Gaea in its claws, taking her to the skies. Separate her from her source, Aita thought. Smart, little heroes. Two more shapes took to the air in hot pursuit of the earth goddess and the dragon.
"Aim carefully," Hemera warned. "If you miss, the son of Hephaestus will cease to be."
"I won't miss," Aita said. He closed one eye and held his breath. My brother and sister are the greatest archers this planet has ever seen; I can do this.
When the dragon was barely a spot amongst the clouds, Hemera said, "Now!" and Aita let the arrow fly.
A second later, a second sun exploded into existence over Long Island Sound.
Now only one remains.
-o-
The chambers of Delphi were a shadow of their former selves—broken stones, cracked floor, rubble there and there, an utter disgrace.
Apollo must be disgusted.
The massive snake was in the center of the room, his yellow eyes staring ahead intently. "Who goes there?"
"Your death, snake," Aita answered, hammering the ground with the butt of his spear. "I killed Nero, Commodus and Caligula. I killed your mother. Surrender to me now, and I'll grant you a quick death."
The snake hissed—or was it laughter? "You cannot stop me, forgotten one. Apollo barely survived our fight. What hope do you have?"
"Simple," Aita said. "I have a weapon that can kill you. Apollo's bow was made to deliver plagues to mortals, not kill gods. This spear"—he twirled it in his hands—"was made to do just that. So, come, try your luck."
The serpent lunged, teeth flashing. Aita sidestepped and raked the great snake's side with his spear. When the snake moved away, the wound didn't heal. The snake hissed in anger and charged again, faster than before.
Aita dodged, slid sideways, and sent his spear at the great yellow eye. Python moved, and the spear passed over a chunk of scales under his lip. Python came on again and again, faster and stronger than the time before. Aita increased his power to match him, and pretty soon he was fighting with every ounce of godly power within him.
The stone roof above them cracked and fell debris on them; the floor shook and broke apart; the walls shuddered and parts of them fell away. Python's breath was enough to make Aita flinch, and he just barely managed to move aside in time.
Again and again they battled; for hours, days, minutes, seconds, Aita couldn't be sure. He was bleeding from his stomach—a result of Python's teeth. The snake was bleeding as well and was getting slower.
"Enough!" he snarled, eyes murderous. "I'll end this now!"
He raised his great head and rushed towards Aita, mouth unhinging as if to swallow him. Almost too late, Aita raised the spear. It broke through the serpent's top jaw and out through his skull. Python sputtered and gasped, and Aita removed the spear, only to stab it through his head again and his torso—right where his heart should have been.
The snake fell sideways and twitched once or twice before going still, dissolving into shed skin and two teeth. Aita claimed the teeth and a piece of the skin—nice souvenirs for later.
"Hemera," he said aloud, "it's done. Python is dead."
"Well done," she said, suddenly behind him. "Not many could have done it. Take comfort in that." She walked over and pressed a glowing hand to his wound, healing it in a matter of moments.
"It's done," she said when he was healed. "Python was your last challenge. Our debt is settled."
"And so it is." There was a pause. "What now?"
"Now"—Hemera smiled—"we're off to Olympus."
-o-
Olympus was largely unchanged, Aita noticed—gold temples, silver shrines, glittering mansions and plazas, fountains, gardens, and parks; though there were a few new things, like several coffee shops, a gym, a grocery store, and something called an "arcade" that had over three floors with flashing lights and beeping sounds.
"Gods of Olympus," he muttered. "It's been so long, yet…"
"…it all looks unchanged?" Hemera finished.
"Mostly," Aita admitted.
"You Olympians are creatures of habit—if you feel comfortable, you won't change."
Aita hummed in agreement. It seemed that Olympus was in the process of readying itself for one of its famous parties—minor gods and spirits rushed around, setting up streamers, confetti, and large poster that read Muse Concert Tonight! Don't miss it!
"Probably for the giant war," Hemera said. They were walking up the stone street that ran from the entrance to the Hall of Thrones. The minor deities ignored them, which Aita was grateful for; he was as nervous as possible already—if old friends started stopping him on the street, he might have been tempted to run.
"We're almost there," Hemera said, smiling softy. "When we get there, stay out of sight while I go in first, then you walk in when I give you the signal."
"Why can't I just walk in with you?"
"Because you look like you're about to collapse; this way you'll have a few extra minutes to gather your strength."
He smiled. "Sounds good."
"Oh, and so you can do one of those cliché reveals and be all like, 'Hey everyone' and they'll all be super confused."
He laughed. "Seriously?"
"Oh, definitely. This is like one of those cheesy soap operas, only, like, real. Just humor me."
He snorted. "Fine."
"Yes!"
Even from a distance, Aita could hear the council meeting—lightning bolts, yelling, ground shaking.
Typical day on Olympus.
"Wait here," Hemera said, gesturing to the columns that lined the interior of the throne room.
Aita took a deep breath. "Yeah. Okay."
She gave him a smile. "Wait for my signal."
"I can do that."
Inside, Father was furious. He gripped his Master Bolt in his hands, ready to smote whoever was groveling at his feet.
It was with great surprise that Aita realized it was Apollo.
"Please, my lord," he was saying, voice weak. "How was I supposed to—"
"SILENCE!" Zeus thundered. "You issued the prophecy before the time was right. It is your fault that Gaea rose before we were ready."
"But, Father," Artemis said, "that is not fair. Apollo had no way—"
"Hush, daughter," he said. "Do not forget that you are also at fault. You kept in contact with your Hunters, even though I ordered Olympus to be sealed."
"Brother, please," Hestia whispered. "He is your son."
"That does not matter," Zeus said. I must be impartial. As it happens, I have already decided on an adequate punishment. Apollo!" The sun god cowered. "This is your fault! Your mess! You fix it." He raised his bolt, ready to strike down Aita's wonderful brother.
And that was when Hemera made her move.
"That will not be necessary, my lord," she said, striding into the crowded throne room.
"WHO DARES TO—Lady Hemera!" Zeus was so surprised he dropped his bolt. "What do—why are you—what is the meaning of this—" By now everyone assembled was looking down at Hemera with wide eyes and open mouths. Aita guessed it wasn't everyday that a primordial showed up on Olympus to disrupt a council meeting.
"I'll make this quick. Apollo here isn't to blame—you must understand that. You're simply looking for a scapegoat for your own mistakes." Aita would have laughed at Hemera's boldness if he weren't so surprised. "However, you'll need to look elsewhere; the three emperors are dead, and the oracles are safe."
"But how—did you—"
"Oh, no, not me. My champion, however…"
"Your champion?"
"Yes, my champion." She glanced back over her shoulder: that's your que.
Taking a deep breath and steeling his courage, Aita stepped out of the shadows.
Looking at the assembled gods, friends and families, he said the only thing that came to mind: "Hey everyone."
A/N: Okay, I know I said this was the last one, but since the reunions are going to be a big part of the finale, I wanted to do them justice. This was just a little something to whet your appetites a little bit. Final one (I promise!) will be out less than a month. Leave a review telling me what you thought.
Bye!