The clock struck midnight on December 23rd, and Silena Beauregard smelled snow.
It was late this year, for New York, but that was fine—she'd started to think there wouldn't be any at all. She tiptoed out of her bunk, slipping on a thick robe and slippers over her thin silk pajamas, and grabbed the box of chocolates she'd received from her dad that morning on her way out of her cabin. She walked as quietly as she could over to the Big House, determined to be wrapped in a blanket and in front of a warm fire by the time the snow started.
Clarisse was already inside when she got there, wrapped up in a jacket that Silena knew belonged to Chris. They'd been spending their days together, Silena knew, and bits of nights when the other senior counselors could put off bed checks long enough to give them some privacy. Only recently, some of the life had come back to Chris's eyes and Clarisse's old fire had found new life in hers. Tonight, though, no Chris. That was good, Silena guessed—if he wasn't here, he was asleep, maybe even making it this far into the night without nightmares.
Clarisse nodded at the box of chocolates in Silena's hand. "Gifts from Daddy Dearest?"
"Yup. He's happy to send gifts and chocolates and… well. Anything to keep me at arm's length." Silena shrugged, pretending as usual that it didn't hurt, even though of course it did.
"Damn good chocolates, though," Clarisse said, patting the spot on the couch next to her.
"It'd be a shame to waste them," Silena agreed. There was a small blaze already flickering in the fireplace. Silena gently set a couple of logs in place next to it, patiently waiting for the flames to catch before sitting down next to her friend and passing her a chocolate.
It didn't take long before the snow began to fall.
"I knew it," Silena said softly, nudging Clarisse. They both turned to watch big fat flakes fall in dizzying spirals towards the ground, slowly but surely covering camp in a blanket of white. "I just knew it would snow today."
They sat there in the quiet for a few minutes, slowly eating their way through Silena's dad's guild chocolates.
A few minutes later, Annabeth and Malcolm crunched their way through the snow and up the steps of the House to join them.
"We were doing rounds and saw a light on," Annabeth explained. "Oo, are those chocolates?"
Silena responded by tossing one at Annabeth's head. Annabeth caught it easily and popped it in her mouth.
"Oo, caramel." She blinked. "So, we're the parentless kids this holiday season, huh?"
"This year and ever year," Malcolm agreed.
"Hey, what if we did something this time, though?" Clarisse suggested. "Like, for the whole camp. The little kids who don't have anyone around for them."
Silena, Annabeth, and Malcolm all stared at her.
"If you tell anyone that doing something was my idea, I will stab you. Annabeth's boyfriend might have broken my favorite spear—"
"Literal years ago, Clarisse. And not my boyfriend," Annabeth noted.
"But," Clarisse continued, "I am not above injuring any of you to prove a point."
"It's a good idea, though." Silena said. "I'll tell Chiron in the morning."
"You mean ask, right?" Malcolm frowned. "You'll ask Chiron."
It turned out SIlena had not meant ask after all.
Over breakfast, Chiron made the announcement. Each cabin would have a white elephant gift exchange. To avoid potential issues of religion, or one person feeling left out based on their mortal heritage, the event was officially a new-years-and-solstice party, which worked well enough. Curfew wouldn't be until two hours later than usual on New Years Eve, when the party would take place, and all of the senior counselors were chipping in to ensure that there were drachmae available for any camper who needed to place an iris-call to a family member or loved one.
The dryads wouldn't allow for any of the huge fir trees near camp to be chopped down, but they did wave their hands over a fake (recyclable, all eco-friendly) tree and make it smell shockingly like the real thing. The Hephaestus cabin committed themselves to making ornaments, and the Apollo kids spent a few days stringing together magical lights that quietly chimed like bells whenever the wind blew through the tree's needles.
The next few days were full of the usual sounds of camp—prayers muttered over the braziers by the big pavilion, the clash of swords on swords and quiet curses in ancient Greek, the ringing of hammers on anvils from the Hephaestus cabin, the sounds of music from the Apollo kids, the occasional angry thump of someone walking past the tetherball in a bad mood.
But this week was full of new sounds, too.
From the Iris-message fountain, kept active for nearly the whole week:
"I love you mom. I'm glad you picked up."
"Percy, finally… no, Seaweed Brain, the cheerleaders at your new school aren't going to be evil. Even if you start mid-semester."
"No, dad, I'm still into girls… no, boarding school is not a conversion camp. Nope, still not Christian either. Sorry, not sorry."
"Happy Hanukkah, Mom. I lit candles last night. I'm sorry it's so dangerous when I come home."
"Charlie! You'll be here on the thirty-first before midnight, right? To start the new year off on the right foot? Yay!"
From the corner of the Big House, where Argus had set up a table hastily decorated with little illustrations of red trucks hauling trees:
"No, Mr. Stoll, I will not instruct Argus to steal something for you."
"But is it really stealing if you do it very, very obviously? Surely it's just, like, the company's fault at that point."
"Travis, I will kill you if you give me a cursed object this year."
"The Amazons aren't very nice about refunds, but do you think they'll gift-wrap things?"
"Don't you just mean… Amazon?"
"Whatever."
From the Demeter cabin, who had decided that the entire camp needed matching sweaters, and the combined forces of the Aphrodite cabin, the dryads, and the satyrs who had all decided to pitch in:
"No, you knit one, purl two. And then the sleeves have to be matched to the holes, you can't just do this with no pattern to it."
"This would have been easier if we'd just asked Argus."
"Has someone said a prayer to Hera yet? This is like, housework and family stuff, right?"
And from behind the Hermes cabin:
"No, that's not how you wrap a gift. No, it isn't."
"First you fold it like this. Then you loop it around your feet like that."
"Your feet?"
"Yes, your feet. Or like, a fork, if your gift is really little. Is your gift really little?"
"I mean, it's not big, but…"
"Okay, so you tried to cheap out. It's fine, it's a stocking-stuffer…"
"I spent money on this!"
"Oh, that's sooooo much better, you're just besmirching our dad's legacy…"
Finally, New Year's Eve came around.
At sunset, Chiron led the satyrs around the grove and the horseshoe path that held the cabins, and they lit little beacons that fed into lights strung across the whole camp. Fireflies that must have somehow been enchanted or coaxed into hanging in the air flitted from cabin to cabin. Each of the tables by the pavilion groaned under the weight of the gifts—some wrapped more expertly than others—that had been piled atop them.
Just before Chiron was about to announce dinner, two tall figures appeared at the top of Half-Blood Hill, by the tree that used to be Thalia's.
Silena gripped Annabeth's arm. "Is that—"
"No way," Clarisse scoffed. "No way those two dummies made it here on time."
"Hey, sometimes people surprise you," Chris said in a moment of lucidity, pressing a kiss to Clarisse's cheek.
Clarisse blushed and promptly shut her mouth.
"It is!" Silena squealed, jumping up and waving. "Charlie, over here! We haven't had dinner yet!"
"Seaweed Brain!" Annabeth cried simultaneously, taking off at a run. She collided into Percy only half a second before Grover did, the three of them hopping around in a many-legged, extremely undignified hug.
"You got taller," Annabeth's words were somewhat muffled by how tightly Percy was hugging her into his chest.
"You didn't," he responded.
"I can still kick your ass," she returned.
"Well then," Mr. D intoned from his spot by Chiron at the high table. "If everyone is here…"
"We've got two more, actually," Percy interrupted. "Sorry, Mr. D."
"Peter Johnson, I will turn you into a reindeer or some other seasonally appropriate mute animal if—"
Mr. D fell momentarily silent as he saw who else had just crested the hill. "Castor, Pollux. I'm glad the two of you made it."
Chiron cleared his throat.
Mr. D took a long swig of his Diet Coke before continuing. "Right! Let the festivities begin!"
By the time midnight struck, most of the campers had headed off to bed. But a few still clustered around the campfires, eking out the last bits of the night before curfew came back into effect.
Annabeth and Percy had their heads bent together, comparing whose streak of gray hair was more obvious (Percy's, though he tried to argue that Annabeth's was longer and thus more impressive).
"Mine just looks like that new Disney princess," Percy argued. "Yours looks like… a fashion statement."
"Percy, I haven't had a TV since I was six. I remember exactly one Disney princess and she annoyed the shit out of me."
"Well, there's this new one, and the whole story is about her and her sister, and the sister has ice powers…"
"That doesn't sound very original."
"Yeah, but the whole thing about true love not having to be romantic… it'd really resonate with you!"
"Whatever, Seaweed Brain."
"Oh, shush, Wise Girl. Sometimes I get to know more about things than you, and Disney is one of those things."
"The only thing."
"No, I also knew more about video games. You've never even played one!"
"Whatever. I bet I can throw a knife further than you. Hey, no dipping the knife in water—that's not fair!"
Clarisse and Chris were playing cards, somehow making Solitaire into a team game—a not particularly solitary one at all. After a little while, Chris shifted his weight, pulling Clarisse into his lap.
"This is nice," he said.
"Which part?" Clarisse asked. "The part where all of the numb-nuts kiddos have gone off to bed and it's mostly just us out here, or the part where we both mostly have our brains still intact?"
"I love you," Chris said, almost without thinking. The words flew out of his mouth faster than anything he'd said in the months since he'd turned up.
Clarisse was quiet for a moment.
"I can… we can pretend I didn't say that. If you need." He backpedaled, loosening his arm around her shoulders.
"No, it's… I love you, too." She grabbed his arm, fiercely putting it right back where it had been, and pulled him in for a long kiss.
"That's a pretty bracelet," Charles Beckendorf told Silena, absently playing with the collection of beads and hair ties strung about her wrist. The bracelet in question was a silver charm strung on a bronze chain, a tiny Greek kappa engraved into it.
"Thanks," she said, leaning up to kiss his jaw. "It was in the white elephant haul earlier."
They were sitting on the other side of the knoll by the campfire, close enough to hear bits of chatter and smell burnt marshmallows but far away enough that they were out of sight from everyone else except maybe Chiron, who was turning a blind eye to the older campers anyway.
"Hey, speaking of gifts, I got you something," Beckendorf told Silena. "A while ago, and I wasn't sure it was right, but…"
"I trust you." Silena's wide blue eyes crinkled at the corners. "I'm sure it's perfect."
Beckendorf took a deep breath. "I hope you still think that once I show you."
"Why?" Silena frowned as Beckendorf stood up. "What are you doing?"
"Silena," Beckendorf said, voice shaking just a tiny bit. "I love you. And even though it's a holiday and it's sparkly and gorgeous—and in case I didn't say it today, you're sparkly and gorgeous tonight—there's a war. And I don't know if we're going to both make it out. Some of the reports we keep getting—what happened to Chris, what happened to some of the others who didn't come back…"
"Charlie, why are we talking about that? Why can't we just—"
"Silena." Beckendorf knelt, pulling a small square box out of his pocket. "I made you this. And I don't know if we're going to make it out of this war alive, but if we both do… will you marry me?"
"Charlie." A single tear dripped down Silena's face. "it's not an if, it's a promise. I'm promising you here, right now. When we make it through this war, yes. A thousand times yes."
"A thousand times like a thousand ships," Beckendorf said, grinning from ear to ear.
"Ships like they sent for Helen?" Silena asked, extending her left hand, which barely shook as Beckendorf slipped the diamond ring he'd made onto her fourth finger.
"Ships like I'd rally for you."
Further up the hill, Chiron and Dionysus sat by the campfire, slowly watching the embers cool from white to red to shimmering coal that occasionally spat sparks into the night.
"They're just children," Dionysis said, his tone betraying for just one moment his age.
"They've always been children, the ones who fight in your wars," Chiron agreed.
"But these ones… they still have it in them to be children." Dionysus waved a hand at the cabin that bore his own emblem. "Look at my boys. They opened stockings in Massachusetts last week and got on two trains to be here today, and they spent the whole journey bickering about a pack of cards in their stocking."
"I didn't know you looked in on them so often." Chiron raised his eyebrows in legitimate surprise.
"Bah, I look in on them when the mood suits me." Dionysus waved a dismissive hand.
"They fight for you anyway," Chiron observed. "They're going to war for the gods as much as anything else."
"We don't deserve it." Dionysus sighed, voice heavy. "Them. Sacrificing their childhoods like this. We don't treat them well enough to deserve what they devote to us."
"He was my father, too, you know." Chiron reminded his old compatriot. "We prevailed once. We can do it again."
"I wish we didn't have to. That prophecy…" Dionysus shook his head. "They're children." He repeated.
"And it's my job to train them." A note of steel entered Chiron's voice. "They'll be ready. And if they're not…"
"Then at least they'll have the memory of tonight." Dionysus raised his cup, filled to the brim with sparkling cider. "Happy New Year, old cousin."
Chiron raised his own cup and clinked it against the god's. "Happy New Year."
Dionysus took a long sip, then shouted across the meadow. "BECKENBLUFF AND SPARKLE GIRL, I CAN STILL TURN YOU BOTH INTO DOLPHINS IF YOU DON'T GET TO YOUR CABINS BY CURFEW."
Happy holidays :)
For those still keeping an eye out, I've got a few chapters of What Kind of a Day Has it Been ready to drop, but I wanted to put this out into the world for some softer, sweeter holiday vibes first.
~ GT