Hermês had not known what to expect when they made their way into the Throne Room. Perseus and Leaneíras dead? Krónos defeated? Olympos actually razed to the ground?
It was worse.
Much worse.
His beloved son, his beautiful boy. He stumbled backwards, Apóllōn and Dionysos taking hold of him as he felt weak at the sight. His Luke, dead upon the golden-floor of the council chamber, eyes forever unseeing of the world around them. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he took note of Perseus, Annabeth, and Grover standing over Luke's—his precious child—broken body, in the dim warm light of the hearth. Absently, he took note of his Leaneíras with eyes glowing with hint of burning divinity yet still so very mortal crouching over two bodies of broken half-bloods by his throne and yet...
"Percy," Poseidón called, awe in his voice. And why was there so much awe when Luke—his son—was dead? The world should not look so wonderfully hopeful. "What... what is this?"
"We need a shroud," Perseus announced, facing them but his eyes—filled with life while Luke was...oh Phanes, how was he... how was he going to face May?—his eyes were on Luke. "A shroud for the son of Hermes."
Hermês wailed.
His boy—his beautiful boy—gone from the earthly plains after being without the light of the gods for so long.
His siblings descended upon him, all reaching out to him in comfort. Persephónē, Eleuthyia, Bellōna, Hêbê, and Alêtheia joined them and yet, they were all pushed aside as their Father moved through their ranks to embrace him in his arms. Hermês clutched to his Father for strength. He knew how hard it was to lose a child and though he lost Pán just the year before, he still had hope that his Luke could be saved. More fool of him. Tis a bitter pain.
"My son," his Father murmured, pulling him away just enough to brush away the tears at his eyes. "Post tenebras spero lucem." Hermês knew that he wished to say more, but... his Father was a King first and foremost. The God of gods turned to gaze at them all, "Come. Let us finish this so that we may grieve in peace."
He felt the overflowing power of his Father, the resources of cosmic and mystical energies of Olympos, the sum total of Ζεύς Panellênios, pour into his very essence, giving him strength to get through the rest of this. It was inexpressible, the feeling. It was enough to make a blue whale feel like a paedophryne amauensis frog. It was equally terrifying to know that only the other children of crooked Krónos and Aphrodítē equaled him power and even then, Father still had an edge to them.
Be as it may his faux human heart ached as the Moirai appeared with Pepromene, Adrasteia, and Heimarmene at their sides. It was a good thing that they were the ones that wrapped in a white-and-green shroud to take him to the Underworld. Hermês doubted he would have had the strength to take him. He probably would have tried to steal his soul truthfully.
They gathered him up, and began to carry him out of the throne room before panic clawed its way through him.
"Wait," he said, having been changed by Aphrodítē and her retinue out of his battle armor. He was now dressed in his favored chlamys, sandals, and winged-leather petasos. The wings of his helm fluttered as he walked. Mártha and Geōrgios curled around his kērū́keion, murmuring, Luke, poor Luke.
He stepped close to his boy, seeing the child that he thought was long lost. It was hard watching him walk this path even if he knew from his first breath that this was his fate. Such was the way of life, but it was never easier to watch his children die. Mayhaps be why he sired so many to fill the void the previous one left.
Hermês unwrapped Luke's face and kissed his forehead. He murmured some words in Ancient Greek—a final blessing.
"O Anankê, whose mercies cannot be numbered: Accept my prayer on behalf of my son, and may Aiakos grant him an entrance into the domos Aïdao; may his memory be eternal." His hand cupped his face, thumb brushing against his cheek as he allowed himself to look over his darling boy once more. He thought of May, his sweet May, alone in her kitchen, baking cookies and making sandwiches for a son who would never come home.
Placing a golden drachma under his tongue, he murmured, "Farewell," nodded as the Moirai and their retinue carried away his son's body.
The next few hours were a blur.
The throne room was a mess, thrones tipped over and cracks and gouges within the ground. The imprint of Luke's face was in the marble walls. He heard his Aunt Hestia make mention of Perseus entering an almost berserker state when the Titan King attacked his Leaneíras with his scythe and the girl in question had no hesitation to rip the floor from the earth and smash it against titan's stolen body whenever Perseus gained ground to breathe.
He was soon joined by his divine offspring who gave their condolences for the lost of their brother; one who was favored by him and important enough to be apart of the Great Prophecy though he knew a few of them have their own beliefs of what accounts him as the hero. Hermês privately agreed. His son... Luke, his beautiful boy; reminded him dearly of Ahkilles. These past few years and most of his life, his Luke experienced near-constant sadness and rage. Although he had the capability to be kind, his pride and anger outweighed all else.
Hermês can admit to his blame and his shame for his role or well, lack of role in Luke's life. He was never like Apóllōn who has an ever-growing library of scrapbooks dedicated to his children; divine and mortal, noting all their accomplishments alongside a smaller alcove for his more favored legacies. Hermês loves his children, divine and mortal alike and he did his best by them, but as the mortal saying go, Sometimes doing your best is not good enough. Tis true. And now look, one of his beloved sons was dead before his life could even truly begin.
Did he ever have his first kiss? His first time with a female or a male or someone that was both?
He knew his boy was... well, not good, certainly, as he was pleasantly chatting with demons on a daily basis, but did he ever have the chance to be a child? He was nineteen when he left the camp. Did he spend anytime with the campers there that were attracted to him before the marks on their skins tore them away? Was he always longing after Thalia with no knowledge that she would ever return from marooning as a Christmas Tree? His poor child. And some would say that Luke's choices was his own and it was true, but it was... it was the hardest thing he ever done to allow him to face his destiny without any input from Hermês, but it was still so hard to do that for any of the other children he sired.
He said nothing when Peithō and Laranda appeared at his sides. The latter offering what measly comfort she could without her tongue to speak while the former tracked his Leaneíras around the room as Kírkē appeared to tend to her.
Around them, the other Olympioi, major and minor, appeared to repair the throne room with the four sentinels taking their places at the side of Father's throne.
He had needed to excuse himself when the kyklôps saved Thalia from the fallen statue, and she entered the room on crutches only for the Moirai to reappear with a special arrow to be intertwined with her silver tiara made from pine and electric blue thread. Even from a distance, Hermês could sense Luke's soul within and he had to escape lest he destroy the hasty restored throne room.
He returned soon enough, a bit confused as to why the Empire State Building was lit blue, but he took his seat upon his throne where his wives then flanked him. His eyes tracked the proceedings around him, watching Perseus and Grover care for the wounded nature spirits and minor godlings that were awaiting service from the Iatrikoi theoi. His younger mortal sons, his twins in everything but actuality, Travis and Connor, made it through with only minor injuries alongside his Cristóbal. Hermês sneakily placed sleep onto his child, Cecil's, mind lest seeing the death and destruction drove him mad.
His gaze landed upon Leaneíras and Perseus as the two of them sagged in relief as his sons told them that their mortal parents were okay. His khaos-mate walked away when they started speaking of Kheírōn, but not before she was assured that their pet tiger was alright also being attended to by Drew who was passing her over to her parents.
He knew that she felt his eyes watching her because she turned to give him a secretive smile and he notes the grief in her eyes. Peithō had taken offense as she so willed yet Leaneíras did not even blink in her direction though there was suddenly a small pterodactyl flying around her and he had to smother his amusement. Though the trio, he and his wives, all appeared a bit surprise at the increase in divinity that streams in her blood. She was not a deity, not yet at least, but it was getting there.
Oh, tis was almost as bad as the Ancient Romans deifying their leaders and the insane amount of paperwork that came from explaining to those souls that no, they were not gods and how in tartara did they even make it over to Elysium let alone the Isle of the Blessed?
Father had been just about foaming at the mouth so it wasn't surprising that Dionysos managed to convince him to make way for his monotheism.
She stood, alternating between smiling and grimacing as Kírkē scolded her for continuous used of her mageia when her mageia core, the seat of her power, was only one more spell away from shattering into complete khaos and also praised her for ingenuity alongside her defeat of Hekátē and Aeëtes and Alabaster. The goddess made sure to praise her quick thinking of utilizing Aeëtes' mageia that she had taken away as balm for her own while also utilizing her connection to both Hermês and Poseidón for the same.
Speaking of Aeëtes, he had to be rescued from the Statue of Liberty considering the concerning number of weapons sticking from his body that pinned him there which was more so embarrassing for the old king when Hēraklēs caught sight of his underwear that came from that horrid disney movie named after him. Neither god could look each other in the eye especially since it was a thong that the Aeëtes had been wearing.
His gaze moved back to Leaneíras, watching the sheer hatred that danced across her face at the sight of the king and the way that divinity sang within her blood. All the theoi look upon her, and he knew without a doubt that within a years time at least, she would ascend to godhood. Who would have thought that for all his plans that she would ascend through no power but her own? Hermês looked to his Father and his Brother and saw them both giving him secretive smiles. Ah, damn those seers. He looked to Aphrodítē and Hḗrē who both winked at him. Damn them too.
Still, he allowed himself a small smile.
His Uncle, Háidēs, entered Olympos, and the mountain sings in completion for all the heirs to the Heavens stand upon it and rejoice. A hero's welcome followed him and his son, and the theoi, even those that had never been truly comfortable with the khthonioi appeared before the God of Riches and clap him on the back when he grants them permission to move in close. His sisters press kisses to his cheeks, his brothers embrace him happily, and all the while, he holds his wife's hand as Persephónē led him to the obsidian throne that was only brought out when he attended banquets upon Olympos.
His gaze moved to the expansive view of the world below allowing him to observe mankind from the heights. The mortals were panicking and if Hekátē wanted to make amends and lessen whatever punishment the council doled out, she would immediately start with pulling the mist thicker around their feeble minds.
The golden tables and tripods within the room were automatons animated by Hḗphaistos, and trundled in and out of the hall as required. Instead of drinks and food, they carried tools and supplies as the gods returned. Those that fought the titans and traitorous gods; those that lent their assistance against Typhôeus. Olympos held no true prison for it was a place of celebration so Father took from their power and made them mortal, locked away in Árēs' quarters for he was the patron of ancient police forces and armed guards.
Hermês watched as Aphrodítē had to physically restrain herself from tackling the daughter of Árēs into her embrace. The slaying of such a beast was a fine gift indeed, but the purity of her love for Silena despite her being a traitor meant more. She embodied those feelings well; that line between love and hate and Hermês could see the children of Árēs and Aphrodítē holding themselves back from her even Deimos and Phobos, who he knew was incredibly jealous of the girl.
They could not say that she was not deserving even if Árēs preferred his daughters over all his children... she deserved the praised that befell her person.
And as she walked in, still shivering from the hyperboreans' attack, Árēs bellowed, with a smile so bright that it could blind Hḗlios himself, "There's my girl!" He ruffled her hair and pounded her on the back, calling her the best warrior he'd ever seen. Such high praise to come from him. He was hard to please in the names of warriors especially those of his children. Why, in the last two thousand years, Hermês can name only one child of the Twelve Olympioi Major that had gained his praise and none of them were granted his blessing. "That drakon-slaying? THAT'S what I'm talking about!"
She looked pretty overwhelmed. All she could do was nod and blink, but eventually she began to smile. And when they received the okay, her siblings moved around her, praising her for her actions. There was talk of what to do with the drakon's husk as it was hers to keep.
He overheard Father speaking with Dionysos that his probation was halved and a small warning to leave the nymphai alone. They do have alliances with the woodland spirits and even he could not stave off both Artemis and Dēmḗtēr's wrath.
Aphrodítē made her way over to her not-twins, Drew and Eliza, both who eyes were red and filled with grief. She wrapped them in her arms, speaking soothing words. He caught her eye, and he could see his own pain reflected. Twas hard to know that their children were both traitors and heroes and yet... there were those whom could only look at them is the villain. The road to hell paved with good intentions and all that.
"Oh, my little doves," she murmured, pressing kisses into their hair. "My little Drew-drop. I am so sorry, my dear."
"I had to fight him, Mother." Drew shook her head, fresh tears streaming down her face. "And Silena... she—" She crumbled and Aphrodítē sank to the floor with her and Eliza in her arms as they grieved together.
Conch horns blew. The army of Poseidón marched into the throne room.
"Percy!" Tyson yelled. "Lea!" He charged toward his with his arms open. Fortunately he'd shrunk back to normal size, so his hug was like getting hit by a tractor, not the entire farm though Leaneíras still wheezed as she was caught into the hug.
"You are not dead!" he said.
"Yeah!" Perseus agreed as Leaneíras gave a beautiful smile. "Amazing, huh?"
He clapped his hands and laughed happily. "I am not dead either. Yay! We chained Typhon. It was fun!"
Behind him, fifty other armored Kyklôps laughed and nodded and gave each other high fives.
"Tyson led us," one rumbled. "He is brave!"
"Bravest of the Kyklôps!" another bellowed.
Tyson blushed. "Was nothing."
"I saw you!" Percy said. "You were incredible!"
The satyr, pale and near faint in face of the ord-eyed beasts, somehow managed to steel his nerves and said, "Yes. Um . . . three cheers for Tyson!" Hermês gave a small smile. At least Pán's successor had some mean of courage for his son had never been afraid of the one-eyed giants.
"YAAARRRRR!" the Kyklôps roared.
The conch horns blasted again. The Kyklôps parted, and his Uncle Poseidón strode back into the throne room in his battle armor, his trident glowing in his hands from where he left to check upon his realm.
"Tyson!" he roared. "Well done, my son. And Percy—" His face turned stern. He wagged his finger at his child. "I even forgive you for sitting on my throne and dragging your sister in your scheme. You have saved Olympos!"
He held out his arms and gave his son a hug. When he pulled away, he smiled kindly at the boy where Hermês pretended that he did not see the boy tear up. Leaneíras stood at his side, and much like King Triton from that other disney movie, The Little Mermaid II: Return to the Sea, Poseidón cupped her face and brightened at her answering smile.
"Dad—"
"Shhh," he said. "No hero is above fear, Percy. And you have risen above every hero. Not even Hēraklēs—"
Said god drew his features back in offense.
"POSEIDÓN!" a voice roared.
Father sat upon the peak of Olympos, his mask of impatience firmly on in place as the mortals gazed upon them. None of them knew the true King of Gods and so long as they lived their pitiful lives, they never would. Luke never would. Father playfully glared across the room at Poseidón. Hermês turned to look around the council room, taking note that the cloistered courtyard where the full assembly of the gods was gathered—including all of the earth-, river- and sea-deities as well as nymphs. There was no Potamos who was not there, except only Okeanos, there was not any one of the Nymphai who live in the lovely groves, and the springs of rivers and grass of the meadows, who came not. These all assembling in the house of Ζεύς took place among the smooth-stone cloister walks which Hḗphaistos had built for Ζεύς.
He sighed as they were going to have to do this once more for those of New Roma.
"Well, Poseidón?" Ζεύς grumped. "Are you too proud to join us in council, my brother?"
Poseidón looked at his children and winked. "I would be honored, Lord Ζεύς."
The second son of Krónos strode over to his fishing seat, and the Olympian Council convened.
Leaneíras listened, one hand clutching Drew as the girl pointedly ignored the sight of Ethan and Alabaster being led from the throne room as Uncle Zeus gave his speech about the bravery of the gods. She tilted her head when she saw Annabeth walk in to stand next to her soulmates before turning her attention back to the proceedings.
Privately, Leaneíras still felt a bit weak and her ears were still ringing from the rant that Kírkē gave her once she had saw the state of her mageia core. The goddess stated that it was if there were shards of glowing color, like hundreds of broken prism splinters, lying scattered within her.
It sounded horrifying and she had not been alone long enough to check for herself. The recovery period would take awhile though she had been assured that the divinity in her blood would make it go by faster. Why the fact that she was marooning as ET meant anything but she left the questioning alone at the strange look that Kírkē had bore.
"As for my brothers," Zeus said, "we are thankful"—he cleared his throat like the words were hard to get out—"erm, thankful for the aid of Háidēs." He finished his sentence in a tongue so old that all those born in the twentieth century understood it in their hearts though not their ears.
The lord of the dead nodded. He had a smug look on his face. He patted his son Nico on the shoulders, and Nico looked happier, more like the kid playing with action figures at that school she had been kidnapped from. What was it named again?
"And, of course," Zeus continued, though he looked like his pants were smoldering, "we must . . . um. . . thank Poseidón."
"I'm sorry, brother," Poseidon said. "What was that?"
"We must thank Poseidón," Zeus growled. "Without whom . . . it would've been difficult—"
"Difficult?" Poseidon asked innocently.
"Impossible," Zeus said. "Impossible to defeat Typhôeus."
The gods murmured agreement and pounded their weapons in approval.
"Which leaves us," Zeus said, "only the matter of thanking our young demigod heroes, who defended Olympos so well—even if there are a few dents in my throne."
He called Thalia forward first, since she was his daughter, and promised her help in filling the Hunters' ranks.
Artemis smiled. "You have done well, my lieutenant. You have made me proud, and all those Hunters who perished in my service will never be forgotten. They will achieve Elysium, I am sure."
She glared pointedly at Hades.
He shrugged. "Probably."
Artemis glared at him some more.
"Okay," Hades grumbled. "I'll streamline their application process."
Thalia beamed with pride. "Thank you, my lady." She bowed to the gods, even Hades, and then limped over to stand by Artemis's side.
"Tyson, son of Poseidón!" Zeus called. Tyson looked nervous, but he went to stand in the middle of the Council, and Zeus grunted.
"Doesn't miss many meals, does he?" Zeus muttered. "Tyson, for your bravery in the war, and for leading the kyklôps, you are appointed a general in the armies of Olympos. You shall henceforth lead your brethren into war whenever required by the gods. And you shall have a new . . . um . . . what kind of weapon would you like? A sword? An axe?"
"Stick!" Tyson said, showing his broken club.
"Very well," Zeus said. "We will grant you a new, er, stick. The best stick that may be found."
"Hooray!" Tyson cried, and all the Cyclopes cheered and pounded him on the back as he rejoined them.
"Grover Underwood of the satyrs!" Dionysos called.
Grover came forward nervously.
"Oh, stop chewing your shirt," Dionysos chided. "Honestly, I'm not going to blast you. For your bravery and sacrifice, blah, blah, blah, and since we have an unfortunate vacancy, the gods have seen fit to name you a member of the Council of Cloven Elders."
Grover collapsed on the spot.
"Oh, wonderful," Dionysus sighed, as several naiads came forward to help Grover. "Well, when he wakes up, someone tell him that he will no longer be an outcast, and that all satyrs, naiads, and other spirits of nature will henceforth treat him as a lord of the Wild, with all rights, privileges, and honors, blah, blah, blah. Now please, drag him off before he wakes up and starts groveling."
"FOOOOOD," Grover moaned, as the nature spirits carried him away.
Leaneíras laughed lightly.
Athena called, "Annabeth Chase, my own daughter." Well, Leaneíras supposed it was Athena considering that she claimed parentage.
Annabeth squeezed her soulmates' arms, then walked forward and knelt at her mother's feet.
Athena smiled. "You, my daughter, have exceeded all expectations. You have used your wits, your strength, and your courage to defend this city, and our seat of power. It has come to our attention that Olympos is . . . well, trashed. The Titan lord did much damage that will have to be repaired. We could rebuild it by magic, of course, and make it just as it was. But the gods feel that the city could be improved. We will take this as an opportunity. And you, my daughter, will design these improvements."
Annabeth looked up, stunned. "My . . . my lady?"
Athena smiled wryly. "You are an architect, are you not? You have studied the techniques of Daidalos himself. Who better to redesign Olympus and make it a monument that will last for another eon?"
"You mean . . . I can design whatever I want?"
"As your heart desires," the goddess said. "Make us a city for the ages."
"As long as you have plenty of statues of me," Apóllōn added.
"And me," Aphrodite agreed.
"Hey, and me!" Ares said. "Big statues with huge wicked swords and—"
"All right!" Athena interrupted. "She gets the point. Rise, my daughter, official architect of Olympos."
Annabeth rose in a trance and walked back towards them.
"Eliza Thomas and Drew Tanaka," Aphrodite called. "My dearhearts." Her eyes gleamed with proud tears and Leaneíras managed to keep her shock away when she saw the tears formed pearls. "My Eliza, for your bravery and purity of your love and skilled with your song, the gods have agreed to award you tutelage directly from the Moûsai and a lead position in the Choirs of Heaven."
Leaneíras didn't think much of it, but she also knew how much the girl was in love with her violin. She had apparently been claimed while playing the damn thing. Her eyes were wide and her mouth opened in shock. Well, at least she could scratch winning a concerto competition off her bucket list. How many people could say that they played for the gods themselves?
She sank deeper into her bow. "Your praise and gifts humbles me, my Lord and Ladies. I swear to make you proud."
"You already have," her Mother smoothly countered before turning to look at Drew. "My Drew..." She stood from her throne, shrinking in size until she could stand before her daughter. "Oh, my darling, Drew, my daughter, you nearly lost yourself to the darkest love that has ever existed. How easily could you have sank into the bond on your soul that binds you to that boy and yet, you kept away from it, keeping yourself firmly within the light of the gods. My child, you are everything that is good and beautiful in this world. And tis why Apóllōn and I, why the gods and I offer you the chance to become unbind your soul from that boy. Tis not a choice we make lightly, my daughter."
Leaneíras stiffened as the other mortals gasped sharply. Who would have thought that a year ago Leaneíras would have been jealous of Drew and now, all she could do was hope that nobody was going to offer her the same thing.
Drew stared at her mother with wide-eyes filled with shock before she shook her head and looked away. "As my sister stated before, your praise and gifts humbles, my Lord and Ladies, but... but I am afraid that this is not a gift that I can accept. I still remember that night. How tired my eyes and heart were. I remember how I almost ran out of breath while I was crying and how difficult it was for me to even open my eyes as the world continued to turn. Loving him was like having a nice relaxing bath with scented candles and an invigorating face mask and all the bubbles with a nice glass of wine leaving you vulnerable to somebody deciding to throw a radio in it. And that's what he did. I shall never forget that pain and so I ask of you to allow me to keep it." Her gaze moved back to meet her Mother's eyes. "I love him even now that I know all his faults and my love for him is such a beautiful thing no matter how much it makes me bleed. No matter how much it pains me, but I cannot rid myself of this mark because when you love something, you protect it."
Leaneíras almost wondered if they were going to blast her before approving smiles appeared on all their faces.
"You have chosen well, my child," Aphrodite stated. "A test of purity of heart is not one to overlook. That said, your true gift is not to dissolve your bond, but instead elevate you from simply being the Champion of Apóllōn and instead, you shall become the official protector of ill-fated lovers."
Drew looked up at her stunned. Aphrodite and Apóllōn smiled at her proudly with Huákinthos winking at her. Eliza pulled her away as the girl was still in a trance to place her right next to Annabeth who gazing around the throne room as if she had already redesigned the entire thing and still found it lacking.
"Leaneíras Jackson," called Hermes. His eyes while still bright and filled with love had dimmed just a bit since he saw the body of his son on the floor. She hoped no one told of him of how she used Zeus' throne to break his back even if it had taken about thirty slams into the damn thing for it to even crack.
She walked forward, bowing at the center of the chamber.
"Leaneíras Alosydni," Hermes repeated, and she shuddered at the feeling that rushed through her at what she instinctively knew to be her name. "Daughter of Poseidón, my Khaos-Blessed. Rise, psichí mou."
Leaneíras stood to her feet and he, too, dropped from his throne to fly—showoff—over to her. He stood before her, curls framing his face in a way that she could not help, but to notice his emerald colored eyes. He had been so unfairly pretty, and she was a bit thankful that his eyes were so distracting that she could ignore the fact that he was essentially naked in front of her.
"By virtue of your magical knowledge and strength, you are said to be more clever than a million gods," he continued on and she ignored the glare that the Pterodactyl gave her. "Your words have gained wings and your worship moves throughout time." He casts his glance about the gods in the room. "Is there any here that can deny she who has great magic and skilled words of power?"
No one said anything and Hermes walked towards her slowly, moving almost impossibly closer.
And to think that she had tried her best to ignore any feelings pertaining to him and yet... the saying went that in love they found out who they want to be; in war they found out who they were. And she found that she raised him so high that every other man on earth and in the sea and in the heavens doomed to live in his shadow. And when she learned of all the horrible and terrible things he had done or what had been done in his name, she could not find any fault in him. Oh, she was a careless fool, and yet, she fell in love with him anyway.
She longed for him; she who usually longed without longing, as though she was unconscious and absorbed in neutrality and apathy, really, utterly long for every bit of him.
"My Leaneíras, Our Walker of Worlds, we honored you above all others. To you, Father Ζεύς, God of gods, bestow you honor in the starry heavens, honor within the everlasting waves, and honor in the bountiful earth. We do you no wrong and grant you the title as the Mother of Witchcraft for as many as were born of Earth and Ocean amongst all these you has your due portion."
He smiled at her, pressing a kiss to her hand.
"You honor me greatly," she murmured, turning her gaze to look at the Twelve Olympioi Major. "I thank you for your gifts."
And with that said, she stood upon her tiptoes to press a feather-like kiss on the corner of Hermes' mouth before bowing once more and taking her place at Drew and Percy's side, leaving the youngest divine-born Olympioi Major son of Zeus speechless in the middle of the council chamber.
"PERCY JACKSON!" Poseidon announced once Hermes found the strength to return to his throne. Leaneiras resolvedly ignored the blush on both of their cheeks and the playful nudging that Drew gave her.
Her brother's name echoed around the chamber.
All talking died down. The room was silent except for the crackle of the hearth fire. Everyone's eyes were on him—all the gods, the demigods, the Cyclopes, the spirits. Percy walked into the middle of the throne room. Hestia smiled at him reassuringly. She was in the form of a girl now, and she seemed happy and content to be sitting by her fire again.
First Percy bowed to Zeus. Then he knelt at their father's feet.
"Rise, my son," Poseidon said.
He stood uneasily.
"A great hero must be rewarded," Poseidon said. "Is there anyone here who would deny that my son is deserving?"
Not a single one protested.
"The Council agrees," Zeus said. "Percy Jackson, you will have one gift from the gods."
He hesitated. "Any gift?"
Zeus nodded grimly. "I know what you will ask. The greatest gift of all. Yes, if you want it, it shall be yours. The gods have not bestowed this gift on a mortal hero in many centuries, but, Perseus Jackson—if you wish it—you shall be made a god. Immortal. Undying. You shall serve as your father's lieutenant for all time."
Leaneíras' jaw dropped.
Percy stared at him, stunned. "Um . . . a god?"
Zeus rolled his eyes. "A dimwitted god, apparently. But yes. With the consensus of the entire Council, I can make you immortal. Then I will have to put up with you forever."
"Hmm," Ares mused. "That means I can smash him to a pulp as often as I want, and he'll just keep coming back for more. I like this idea."
"I approve as well," Athena said, though she was looking at Annabeth.
"I don't," Aphrodite sniffed, looking at her own daughter.
Percy glanced back, looking at his two soulmates, both of whom were trying not to meet his eyes.
"No," Percy said, looking back at the gods.
The Council was silent. The gods frowned at each other like they must have misheard.
"No?" Zeus said. "You are . . . turning down our generous gift?" There was a dangerous edge to his voice, like a thunderstorm about to erupt.
"I'm honored and everything," Percy said. "Don't get me wrong. It's just . . . I've got a lot of life left to live. I'd hate to peak in my sophomore year."
The gods were glaring at him, but Annabeth had her hands over her mouth. Her eyes were shining and Eliza was smiling bright enough to block out the sun.
"I do want a gift, though," Percy said. "Do you promise to grant my wish?"
Zeus thought about this. "If it is within our power."
"It is," Percy said. "And it's not even difficult. But I need your promise on the River Styx."
"What?" Dionysos cried. "You don't trust us?"
Who would? But considering the punishment for breaking an oath, Leaneíras understood why they were appalled by it. Though, she also supposed that since oaths on the River Styx fucked over them a couple of times. Dionysos' birth was a sore spot concerning the nature of that oath.
"Someone once told me," he said, looking at Hades, "you should always get a solemn oath."
Hades shrugged. "Guilty."
"Very well!" Zeus growled. "In the name of the Council, we swear by the River Styx to grant your reasonable request as long as it is within our power."
The other gods muttered assent. Thunder boomed, shaking the throne room. The deal was made.
"From now on, I want to you properly recognize the children of the gods," Percy said. "All the children . . . of all the gods."
The Twelve Olympioi Major shifted uncomfortably, but the minor? Oh, the minor all jerked as if they had been electrocuted.
"Percy," their Father said, "what exactly do you mean?"
"Kronos couldn't have risen if it hadn't been for a lot of demigods who felt abandoned by their parents," I said. "They felt angry, resentful, and unloved, and they had a good reason."
Uncle Zeus flared his nose. "You dare accuse—"
"No more undetermined children," Percy said. "I want you to promise to claim your children—all your demigod children—by the time they turn thirteen. They won't be left out in the world on their own at the mercy of monsters. I want them claimed and brought to camp so they can be trained right, and survive."
"Now, wait just a moment," Apóllōn said, but her brother was on a roll.
"And the minor gods," he said. "Nemesis, Hecate, Morpheus, Janus, Hebe—they all deserve a general amnesty and a place at Camp Half-Blood. Their children shouldn't be ignored. Calypso and the other peaceful Titan-kind should be pardoned too. And Hades—"
"Are you calling me a minor god?" Hades bellowed.
"No, my lord," Percy said quickly. "But your children should not be left out. They should have a cabin at camp. Nico has proven that. No unclaimed demigods will be crammed into the Hermes cabin anymore, wondering who their parents are. They'll have their own cabins, for all the gods. And no more pact of the Big Three. That didn't work anyway. You've got to stop trying to get rid of powerful demigods. We're going to train them and accept them instead. All children of the gods will be welcome and treated with respect. That is my wish."
Zeus snorted. "Is that all?"
"Percy," Poseidon said, "you ask much. You presume much."
"I hold you to your oath," Percy said and Leaneíras found her gaze moving to Hermes who gave her an assuring smile back. "All of you."
Her brother got a lot of steely looks, and she shifted just a bit. She would make them regret giving that title quick, fast, and in a hurry.
Strangely, it was Athena who spoke up: "The boy is correct. We have been unwise to ignore our children. It proved a strategic weakness in this war and almost caused our destruction. Percy Jackson, I have had my doubts about you, but perhaps"—she glanced at Annabeth, and then spoke as if the words had a sour taste—"perhaps I was mistaken. I move that we accept the boy's plan."
"Humph," Zeus said. "Being told what to do by a mere child. But I suppose . . ."
"All in favor," Hermes said.
All the gods raised their hands.
"Um, thanks," Percy said.
He turned, but before he could leave, Poseidon called, "Honor guard!"
Immediately the Cyclopes came forward and made two lines from the thrones to the door—an aisle for him to walk through. They came to attention.
"All hail, Perseus Jackson," Tyson said. "Hero of Olympus . . . and my big brother!"
Talk about favoritism.
WORD COUNT: 6568
WORDS TO KNOW:
1) Ζεύς Panellênios - Ζεύς Of All the Greeks
2) domos Aïdao - House of Háidēs | Dwellings of Háidēs
3) Psichí Mou - my soul
THINGS TO KNOW:
1) Post tenebras spero lucem ("After darkness, I hope for light")
GODS NAMED:
1) Pepromene is a goddess and being of fate/destiny in Greek mythology (a being of "the destined share", which implies a person's true calling and fate; in short, the idea that every man is tied to a destiny).
2) Adrasteia was the goddess of "inevitable fate", representing "pressing necessity", and the inescapability of punishment.
3) Moros is the 'hateful' personified spirit of impending doom, who drives mortals to their deadly fate. It was also said that Moros gave people the ability to foresee their death.
4) Heimarmene is a goddess and being of fate/destiny in Greek mythology (in particular, the orderly succession of cause and effect, or rather, the fate of the universe as a whole, as opposed to the destinies of individual people).
5) Ananke is the personification of inevitability, compulsion and necessity.
6) Aiakos is one of the three judges of the dead in the Underworld. He was originally a king of the island of Aegina who obtained his position as a reward from the gods. Individually, Aiakos is guardian of the keys of Haides and judge of the men of Europe
COMMENTS FROM THE AUTHOR:
1) Okay, I lied. It's another chapter for TLO before we're done with PJO.
2) Again, the fact that we hear nothing about May after TLO never sits right with me. Is she still waiting for her son to come home? Is she alive? Has her mental state been returned from madness now that the curse has been lifted? Like QTNA!
3) This was a bit more complicated in the sense that he's feeling fresh grief but Lea's also safe. He's a bit of a mess right now.
4) The biggest issue was how I was going to handle Luke dying and the whole aspect of Thalia being immortal because he was going to die either way it goes. I could have turned him into a tree, but even trees die. So for the most part, he has been turned into an arrow that always returns to her like how Riptide always goes back to Percy. It can break and it can shatter, but as long as Thalia lives, it will never actually be destroyed.
5) Yooo, did y'all know that a mosaic to Medusa, temple to Hekátē, and a temple of Aphrodítē have been found? The gods are making themselves known!
6) Off screen while Lea was fighting Hekátē and Aeëtes: Drew fighting Ethan and trying to literally rip his heart out and also trying to get him away from the Titan's side.
7) It was sooo hard to find something to reward them with especially since only 5 people said to rewarded when over 40 ppl fought and that's not including the Romans so who knows if anyone got rewarded over there.
7A) So everyone received an award!
8) Canonically, Annabeth was just made immortal also. Rick literally says in HoO that Aiolos was made King of the Winds and he was immortal. Ganymēdēs is the Cupbearer of the Gods. And now she's official architect of Olympos. She was just made immortal. Here, still mortal. For now, dun dun dunnnn.
8A) Me sneakily finding away to make all them partially immortal.
8B) All of them are more like the Norse gods. They can have their own hero-cults, and worshippers, but they can still die. So still mortal for now... :)
8C) I know someone thought that I was going to elevate her to become Hermês' wife, but like Lea just realized that she loved him. An official marriage was a little bit too much even if they were already spiritually married by the virtue of their marks.
8D) Also, the HoO plot is up next and I can't have them as gods when I need to do that, you know.
8E) AND YES! PERCY IS INCLUDED IN THIS BUT LIKE... I COULDNT TAKE AWAY HIS OATH SO YEAH! HE MIGHT NOT HAVE A FANCY SMANCY TITLE BUT HE'S A PART OF THIS.
9) Annabeth and Percy mouthing off at the gods that could kill them with a snap of their fingers — Eliza and Octavian as their soulmates being the most respective little shits to ever existence except in the case of Athḗnē because I can't make Octavian like her.
QUOTES:
1) "I long for you; I who usually longs without longing, as though I am unconscious and absorbed in neutrality and apathy, really, utterly long for every bit of you." ― Franz Kafka, Letters to Milena
2) "I raised you so high that every other man on earth is now doomed to live in your shadow." ― Ranata Suzuki
3) "If I have learned anything in this long life of mine, it is this: in love we find out who we want to be; in war we find out who we are." ― Kristin Hannah, The Nightingale
4) "And then I was a careless fool, and I fell in love with you anyway." ― Casey McQuiston, Red, White & Royal Blue