ATOP the bright silver tray to the right of Calypso sat a wine-colored cylindrical container no bigger than her hand. It was frigid to the touch, unnaturally so, and beads of water had condensed along the outside of its metal container. An unsatisfactory ring of liquid had been left upon where it sat. Resting within its cold armor was, according to Percy, a liquid. A liquid that he had been begging for ever since realizing that Hera's blessing could provide almost anything one wished for at a divine request. After having listened to her hero's pestering for a sunrise or two, Calypso relented and informed her servants to obtain the foreign drink that he so desired.
The vast difference between what was expected versus what had been given shocked Calypso, and only stood to further remind herself that the outside world was changing.
"I did not realize it had changed so much that you could not have a garden."
Would I even recognize the world he knows?
It was certainly a vastly more complicated container to use than the simple chalice, requiring some innate understanding of how the modern world worked because for even a titaness the container remained shut off to her. There was no discernible cork from which she could crack into it nor any spout from where liquid could pour out from. All that existed upon the container was its solid mass of wine-dark silver.
While the desire to unlock the container was strong, Calypso had other priorities to worry about and the open and drinkable chalice of wine next to her was perfectly serviceable. As of this point in time, said priorities consisted of basic gardening across the meadow, tending to plants and trees that did not need as much care and attention as her coveted moonlace.
Thankfully, Percy's healing had advanced to enable him to walk, or, at the very least, stay upright for a longer time. The two of them had begun daily excursions outside to ensure her hero would not feel trapped or bored within her bedroom. Calypso learned quickly that Percy had a rabid curiosity and a body that refused to stay still.
He had been healing remarkably well, considering the state in which he had arrived. To compare his recovery to Odysseus would be laughable, as Percy had the divine blood within him that Odysseus sorely lacked, and while he was not as swift in recovery as Drake had been, it had been merely a gunshot, not a walk through fire. However, Percy still took well to Calypso's persistent care and attention, and she learned his complaints were rarely ever given with any real malice.
It was perhaps the most infuriating aspect of Percy. His innocent, boyish charm clashed with what she was used to and it consistently lured her deeper into her feared attraction. She realized all too late that the care she took to the boy while he was unconscious created a strong bond, the moment they shared the other night being the breaking point of her realization.
A belch echoed behind her, along with a soft "excuse me" from her hero, dragging Calypso out of her thoughts, and she turned around to look at Percy.
"Must you be so loud, Percy?"
He had the gall to look proud. Calypso glared at him, and Percy's impish grin withered before being replaced with flushed cheeks as he suddenly found great interest in the ground beneath him.
Calypso smiled; boyish charm, indeed.
Percy smiled back. A hint of his teeth came through, and his body moved in a fit of silent laughter. He grabbed the metal container next to him, crushed it in his hand, and threw it at Calypso. Thankfully, one of her servants had taken pity on Calypso and plucked it from the air before ever making it to her.
"Aw, come on! That's not fair!" Percy whined.
Calypso subtly waved her arm in the direction of Percy. "On the contrary, I find this is quite fair."
The container, still in the invisible hands of her servant, was then tossed at Percy. It bounced off his head. Percy sputtered indignantly and Calypso poorly attempted to conceal a smile that threatened to break across her face.
"You forget who rules this isle, my dear."
Percy huffed, before swatting at the air around him. "Traitors, all of you!"
Finally breaking at his proclamation, Calypso laughed loudly, a hearty and true sound of amusement that the residents of Ogygia were very rarely graced with. Their eyes eventually met, and Percy stared at Calypso with slightly tinted cheeks at the sound of her joy. He swallowed hard and mumbled something too quiet for her to hear.
She paused. Calypso's eyebrows furrowed, and she tilted her head to the side.
"What did you say, my hero?"
Percy's face burned bright with the color of his mortality, and he gazed at the ground while his right hand moved to the nape of his neck. "Uh, just that, um… that-your-laugh-is-really-pretty." His voice trailed off as he spoke.
"I beg your pardon? You are speaking much too hastily," she replied, positive she had misheard him.
"Your laugh is really pretty," he finally said, face now fully flushed.
Calypso's body stiffened — she had not misheard him then. Her face tightened before adopting a calm facade, smiling at Percy. It did not reach her eyes.
"Really? Thank you, Percy. That is very kind of you. Your laughter is quite melodious as well."
Except it was so much more than just melodious: Percy's silvery laughter was euphonious. It rivaled the greatest songbirds that Ogygia had to offer, and Calypso's heart fluttered every time she was graced by its presence. She cursed herself for allowing such a display of vulnerability around her hero. Calypso would not entertain the thought of Percy actually reciprocating any feelings she may have towards him, thus asking him to stay. And yet, Calypso would not force him to leave either. His decision to stay or leave must come of his own choice, no matter how painful it may be.
Percy's relationship with Calypso was as of now something wholly unique compared to either Odysseus or Drake, a fact that scared her deeply. With Odysseus and Drake, it was obvious that both would eventually leave, even though Drake so badly wished to stay. Percy being unique therefore implied something different, and her life had been built around the fact that life was on a set schedule, bar the occasional hero at Hades' feet. But even the occasional hero had so far been on a somewhat standard schedule: Calypso would heal them, Calypso would fall in love, Calypso and the hero would make love, and then Calypso's hero would abandon her.
Perhaps it was his innocence that had not yet been shattered by years of war and battle like Odysseus and Drake had seen. Perhaps it was his youthfulness, for Percy was still not beyond the age of maturity. Or perhaps it was that Percy was just kind and that any feelings Calypso had would never be reciprocated beyond a misunderstood friendship that he was too keen to preserve.
Calypso thought the latter was probably most accurate, for if he had realized his statement caused her any pain he did not make it known, save for a brief flash of something that ran through his face. Confusion? Hurt? Relief? Whatever it was, the ephemeral emotion was replaced by a wide smile, as Percy took in Calypso's compliment. Percy's face beamed in happiness from her half-compliment.
"Seriously? Thank you so much!" Just like that, the potential for awkwardness was assuaged.
Calypso smiled sadly. "You are welcome, my hero."
Turning around again, Calypso found her flowers once more and continued tending to the garden around her. A brief pop followed her turn, and Percy's sigh of satisfaction meant that her servants must have supplied him with another of his desired beverages. Yes, she had fallen for Percy, a hero who it seemed would not fall for her in return. Quite different indeed, but it certainly held the potential for an easier departure. If there was no mutual love then there was no use pondering on hypotheticals; no use crying over a thread of fate that had not even been spun.
Calypso held her hand out in the air while examining the lilac bush that sat in front of her. The white petals shone wonderfully in the sunlight and the bush had a marvelous shape to it, although there was still some minor work to be done. Near the left-hand side of the bush lay a new branch reaching for the sky at a less than desirable angle.
A soft weight was pressed against Calypso's open palm as her fingers slowly wrapped around the smooth wood handle of her knife. Reaching forward, Calypso grasped the stray growth and carefully ran her bronze blade across the branch, taking care not to excessively prune the otherwise immaculate bush in front of her. Another stray branch had begun to grow a little farther down, and that too was quickly separated from its friends. As soon as the branches hit the ground they were picked up and carried off.
A stray piece of hair landed in front of Calypso's face, tickling her cheek. Reaching up, she tucked the wheat-colored strand back behind her ear and gave Percy another glance. He was sitting upon a soft blanket of white fluffy wool, resting his back against a soft white pillow and languidly sipping from that wine-colored container. His head was leaned back, gazing up at the bright sky with a look of tranquility upon his face.
It was in these moments Calypso felt content to gaze upon her hero, moments where a glance could be stolen and a look into Percy's private life was permitted. Discussion between them was too straining on her heart, and as innocent and young as Percy was, he had a keen eye for Calypso's tendency to pull away; he genuinely seemed worried for her well-being. But she could never indulge in such niceties. No, it was much better to love him from afar than to make him privy to her true thoughts and wishes.
Calypso quickly cast her gaze to the silver tray next to her as Percy's head began to move down. Such was their game, a battle of gazes that neither wanted the other aware of. A game both had failed miserably time and time again. Calypso was well aware of Percy whenever his eyes would watch her form, few things could hide from the divine, but it did nothing to lessen her quickening heartbeat whenever it was felt. She selfishly wondered if he felt similarly when her eyes were on him. Rather than fret or potentially mess up more of her flowers as she did that one night to that poor moonlace flower (she had returned the following night to ensure it took to the ground), Calypso placed her attention to the wine-dark container that now lay in a pool of water.
The once large beads of condensation had instead been replaced by streaks of water left by the beads as they fell to the silver beneath them. Intent on finally cracking its armor, Calypso took the object in her hands and brought it to her face. She noted a piece of metal on the silver end of the can that was situated above the otherwise smooth plane. Percy's presence felt stronger on her now, his gaze heavy on her shoulders.
Percy called to Calypso in a teasing manner. "You still haven't opened it?"
"Percy, my brave one, do you wish to have another of these thrown at your head?" Calypso retorted.
Calypso grabbed the raised piece of metal in frustration and, to her surprise, felt movement from it. Was this minuscule piece of metal the proverbial cork of this container? Calypso's finger grazed against it, feeling slight movement akin to a hinge or lever. Placing her fingernail into the small cut-out, Calypso tried to rotate it. It did not move. This was not a failure though, not at all, this instead keyed her into her only logical conclusion, that it was a lever that moved up and down. But how to lift a lever with no room provided to hinge it on?
Placing the container upon the silver tray, Calypso took notice of her glistening knife on the ground. Grabbing a clean linen cloth, Calypso plucked it from the dirt and removed any excess earth left upon the blade and handle. She examined it closely. A sharp blade was also a thin one, and Calypso's knife was much sharper and thinner than her own fingers.
Calypso smiled and looked at Percy in triumph. "I do believe I have unlocked this container, my hero."
"Finally!" Percy said. "Oh, and make sure you shake it really well first. It tastes so much better!"
Calypso tilted her head to the side, a quizzical look on her face. "Sincerely?"
"Yeah! It makes sure all the flavors are mixed together. Modern stuff and all that."
Calypso saw no reason to not shake it then. The world outside of Ogygia had given Percy, Drake even, so many new objects of daily life and luxuries of food. She was excited to finally taste the beverage that sent Percy into a craze. And so, grabbing the container in her hand, Calypso gave it a firm, hard shake. When she was done shaking, the metal felt firm in her hand. She looked Percy's way, and he gave her a thumbs-up (one of the many new facets of life Percy had taught Calypso about his foreign world).
And so, grabbing the knife in her other hand, Calypso slowly began to work the blade beneath the small bit of silver metal. It quickly slipped underneath and, with an exclamation of joy, Calypso began to use the knife as a lever and raised the tab. She beamed at having solved the puzzle—
The tip of the knife punctured the metal as it pressed into the container. For the most minuscule amount of time, Calypso pondered if perhaps Percy had not been fully honest in his suggestions. In this small pause between happiness and rage, Calypso heard laughter bursting from her visitor, just as the container erupted in her hand. Liquid shot out of the puncture, spraying her form with a jet of foam and bubbling fluid.
Percy roared in laughter as the container finally began to stop spraying. Calypso had thrown it aside but it was far too late. Her face was soaked and her poor white cotton chiton was stained the dark color of dirt. Calypso felt sticky, betrayed, and enraged.
"Perseus? Were you perhaps lying to me?"
Percy only responded by laughing somehow even harder.
I wrote fluff, somehow!