Aphrodite hadn't fallen in love in centuries. Not truly, anyway. Not powerfully.
She had had crushes, sure - trysts with beautiful mortals who caught her eye through proclamations of love or offerings of her favorite sweets. She has never been short on demigod children, because she always has love to spread. Connection does not always have to be earthshaking in order to be felt. Gentle, quiet loves can be just as impactful as love that is all consuming when they are properly tended.
She was not prepared for Philip McCaffery. She did not see foresee his theft of her heart until it was already stolen.
It had been a stupid chance encounter. Aphrodite had been lounging with a few of her favorite nymphs in a mountain spring. She was waiting for Ares to remember their 47,764th month anniversary and come charging up to romance her properly, so she was in a bit of a mood. Then, out of nowhere, a mortal man had stumbled through the bushes.
He was silly looking, wearing a hat much too large for him over squished dark curls and chipmunk-like sunburnt cheeks. It was clear the man could not see through the Mist. He did not acknowledge Aphrodite or the nymphs in her company. He merely waded clumsily into the spring and plucked a petal from a lily in the very center.
The nymphs had giggled at the man. They'd teased him, pointing out how easily he could have collected just the same flower from by the shore without getting himself all soaked in the process.
The action had...intrigued Aphrodite, though.
When the man exited the spring and the nymphs began to play again, she could not stop herself from following.
And follow him, she did. For weeks, Aphrodite watched this peculiar mortal. He did more things that intrigued her.
He climbed to the highest branch of a tree before plucking a leaf. He dove to the deepest level of a pond before scraping algae into a cannister. Then, he would spend hours examining each thing he collected. He would touch them so gently, so reverently.
A mortal who sought beauty. Who did not shy away from adversity in pursuit of it. Who cared deeply for its preservation. Who devoted himself to its cause.
Aphrodite is sure she loved him before she ever revealed herself.
She came to him as a mortal first. This is usually the way she does things. A first approach is typically taken better when the mortal is not aware she is an immortal being of pure energy. For some reason, that makes them feel nervous.
She adopted an alias and pretended to be lost in the wood. Ever a kind soul, Philip had jumped at the chance to assist her, prepared to drive her anywhere in civilization she needed to go to ensure she made it home safely. He even offered her what little food and water he had brought with him. And his "Blackberry cellphone."
Aphrodite believes those are valuable to mortals. That gesture had sealed the deal for her. She was smitten.
She showed him just how much before they ever reached his vehicle.
He enjoyed himself. Ha! Of course, he did. All mortals do. She is the Goddess of Love and Beauty. A night with her - well, afternoon in his case - is like nothing a human will ever experience again. Usually, after they are done, Aphrodite will tell her lover to close his or her eyes. Then, she will reveal herself as a goddess in a brilliant display of divine radiance and will be met with awe and worship.
Every human is flattered to have been chosen by a goddess.
She truly was not expecting Philip McCaffery to turn so...pale.
He had practically fled in fright. He had apologized as he did so - of course he had...He was a kind soul. The man had even left her his coat. Her. A goddess. Just in case she got a chill.
And then, he had leapt into his vehicle and disappeared.
Aphrodite was in shock. She was confused. She had not been spurned by a lover in...great Olympus, well unto a century. But one so soft hearted as well?
No. There must have been more to it. She was a goddess! What possible justification could a red blooded man have for refusing her affections?
She had to know. So, she set off in pursuit.
It took her a surprisingly long time to find him. A fortnight, in fact.
She found Philip McCaffery in Palm Springs, California. Where Demeter was awaiting her.
Her "champion," the other goddess had claimed him to be. Aphrodite was scolded for encroaching on Philip's quest to resurrect the Meliai dryads on Demeter's orders, as such was his birthright. Her aunt had been furious, prepared to have her hauled in front of the other council members and denounced for her actions.
But, Aphrodite had never meant disrespect. She had fallen in love. Such was her nature. And, Philip had loved her in return until she revealed her divinity.
So, she suggested an alternative.
Philip would choose a goddess to devote himself to. If he chose to leave Aeithales with Aphrodite, Demeter would release him from his quest. If he chose to stay...
Well, such a thing would not happen, but she would have to accept his choice.
She had been surprised at the time when Demeter so readily agreed. She had thought her plan to be a clever one - for what mortal man would deny the Goddess of Love after a taste of what she could offer him?
She had been even more surprised when Philip gave her his apologies and stepped back into the shadows of his ancestral home.
Demeter had banished her from the agricultural outpost. She had forbidden her from making contact with her champion ever again.
"He needs no distractions!" She had said.
So, Aphrodite had left. She had returned to the spring where they first met, and she had wept.
She wept for days. For weeks. Months. Until the leaves turned brown and the mountains were caked with ice. Until the winds blew away the frost, and her toes sat buried in fresh soil and soft green grass.
Her tears collected. One at a time, they stacked atop each other until they formed a nose. Then, a face. A neck. A stomach. Hands. Feet. Ten fingers and ten toes.
Aphrodite cried until her tears could cry for her instead, a small, pudgy bundle of mortal flesh gripping the grass beside the spring as it wailed.
For a moment...the goddess had stared down at the child in awe.
A baby. Her baby.
A girl.
A girl who was...beautiful.
For a moment - just a moment...Aphrodite had loved her.
But, then that girl opened her eyes.
In the green of them, all Aphrodite could see was rejection.
The rejection of her love. The rejection of her beauty. The rejection that came with realizing all those things she was intrigued by - all those seemingly peculiar actions of Philip's that she found so endearing...They were all in Demeter's service.
With those same green eyes, Philip McCaffery had torn her heart asunder.
She did not know why such a plain man, one with no great feats of heroism, no picturesque features, had managed to shake her so deeply into her core. But, she did know that those eyes...she could not spend one more moment in their presence.
Aphrodite returned to her palace that night and fell into Ares' arms a broken mess. She did not consider what might happen to the child. She did not care.
As long as those eyes would never find her again, Aphrodite would not think on it another moment.
And she did not.
It was not until fourteen years later that those eyes met hers across the throne room of Olympus, and Aphrodite realized...looking at them still hurt.
That isn't right. She made a Heartbreak. That isn't...
That is not how her domain is supposed to work.
She does not understand what happened. She just knows that Juliette Aster terrifies her. And, she would do anything to never see those green eyes again.
Juliette would do anything to see Jason Grace one more time.
That's what she's thinking when she stumbles through the metal door beneath the overpass and falls to her knees a few hundred feet downfield of a three story tall, golden scaled drakon in an Indianapolis Colts football helmet.
Next, she's thinking...What the fuck?
The squeaking of a mic going live echoes through the stadium, and the crowd falls silent. A man clears his throat. Juliette startles where she stands as every screen in the arena flashes gold to showcase the scantily clad form of Emperor Commode.
"My adoring citizens! It is my pleasure to welcome you to a HISTORICAL EVENT!"
The crowd goes wild once more, whistling and howling and making other monstrous sounds of celebration. Julie looks around, wide eyed. She thinks she can count the amount of human faces she sees on one hand. The rest are blemmyae, dracaena, earthborn, and more.
There is no way in Hades she's getting out of here right now, is there?
Commod-us (according to one of the enormous banners over the audience) continues his speech with a brilliant smile and a flex of his pecks.
"For decades, I have searched the earth - looking far and wide for a creature such as this. For decades, I have been eluded! But, NO LONGER!"
More cheering. This time, it startles the gold drakon. The beast stomps its lizard-like feet onto the ground and turns its head to the sky to let loose a geyser of flame.
Ohhh fuck, she thinks she knows where this is going.
Juliette begins to tremble, eyes wide and tearing. She can feel the heat all the way across the stadium.
Commodus accepts the applause with his hands wide like a showman. He soaks it in. Only once it has begun to fade does he reopen his eyes and snap his fingers.
Suddenly, his face on the screens is replaced by Julie's. She feels all the blood drain from her cheeks.
"Ladies and gentlemen, join me in welcoming - for her debut gladiatorial event - for your viewing pleasure," A drumroll. A drumroll during which Juliette tries to shuffle backwards out of the arena on three limbs only to be kicked back onto the field by the front row of monsters.
Drumroll.
Drumroll.
Drumroll.
Cymbals.
"THE CORDOLIUM!"
At the emperor's shout and the crowd's next eruption, the drakon sets its sights onto Juliette and roars.
The entire field seems to rumble as the beast starts heading her way.
Fuck. Oh, fuck. Oh, shit, bitch, dick, shit, fuck-WHAT IS SHE SUPPOSED TO DO?
"Better get moving, baby!"
Julie looks sharply to the stands. Lityerses is leaning over a railing above the dugout, grinning in amusement. When she just gapes at him in terror, he laughs and lazily rests his cheek in his palm.
"Y'know, if you want to live. No pressure."
Living sounds wonderful.
By the time she's fully transformed into her wyvern, the golden drakon is already on her.
She's used to being the bigger one in a fight like this. Even transformed, Julie is barely half this thing's size.
She manages to avoid the first snap of teeth, but ends up taking a front claw to the chest. It slices deep into her scales and ribs and sends her tumbling across the turf to slam into the field goal. The crowd makes a sympathetic "Ooooohhh" as she struggles back up onto three limbs.
Julie is bleeding. Badly. She's lucky that swipe of the drakon's claw didn't hit any lower and disembowel her. Spots are dancing in the green tint of her vision as she staggers back around to face her opponent.
Man, she's been getting her ass kicked these past few days. Did she do something to piss off Ares?
If nothing else, at least she wasn't the only one to take damage from that attack. The drakon is shaking its head back and forth and hissing in agony as the blood Juliette splattered up the offending clawed arm burns away at its scales.
While it's distracted, Juliette attempts to make a game plan.
...
Mhm.
...Yeah. Attempts is the right word, because she's got nothing.
The screech of rage the drakon releases as it charges once again sends thrills of adrenaline down all of Julie's limbs. This time, she dodges more successfully, managing to jump out of the way at the last second so the drakon runs face first into the field goal. The crowd screams its approval as the goal tips over and crashes into a section of the audience, sending up a plume of monster dust from the squished spectators. Julie really hopes they all signed waivers before buying these tickets.
The drakon is stunned for a moment, and Julie takes that opportunity to slash her own claws across the back of its neck.
That might not have been her most intelligent moment.
Ever accidentally raked your fingernails down concrete? Ever done it with the full intention of and strength required to gouge out part of said concrete?
Don't.
Juliette's claws on her right wing snap off completely. She has bitten off acrylic nails in past pinches. This is like biting off an acrylic nail, accidentally pulling off the entire nail bed, and then dumping a bottle of vinegar on the wound.
She lets out her own screech - but hers is one of pain. She's so disoriented by it that she almost gets cooked by the jet of fire the drakon turns its head around to spit at her.
Julie flaps her wings to lift off the ground and over the breath of flames. The slices Lityerses cut into the webbing of them are still there, though, and actual flying seems pretty out of the question. Instead, she hovers down to land onto the drakon's back, directly behind its head.
It hisses at her angrily and tries turning around to snap its teeth at her. Julie just squeezes as tightly to the back of its head as she can and digs in what few claws of hers still remain. It's like she's riding a mechanical bull. A mechanical bull that spews fire and will rip her throat out if she accidentally lets go - which is looking more and more likely by the second.
She's losing a lot of blood. She needs to end this soon, or she's going to pass out. She's already getting too dizzy to block out the annoying chants of the audience.
Half the crowd is chanting "DIE! DIE! DIE!" while the other half chants "BURN! BURN! BURN!"
It's very encouraging.
It's then that she notices the tone of the drakon's hissing change, though. It goes from angry spitting to a sort of high pitched whine. Juliette looks around to see what might have changed.
Oh.
Hades yeah, she's bleeding. And, now that she's jockeyed onto this drakon's back, she's bleeding right onto the most convenient place possible. It.
The damage it's causing has made Juliette an opening. She targets the weakened scales and sinks in her fangs, pumping venom into the veins of the drakon's neck.
Her opponent screams out a roar and throws itself backwards, intent on landing upside down to smoosh Juliette flat. She finally lets go of the beast to escape this, but, unfortunately for it, the damage is already done. Everywhere Julie bled, all down its neck and back, the drakon's 'impenetrable scales' are still corroding away, smoking a foul smelling odor as its flesh sizzles and pops. The puncture wounds her fangs left behind are emitting a purple gas, and the drakon is shaking its mighty head back and forth like the internal damage is taking effect.
Within moments, the pain must be too much for the creature. It falls onto its belly and crumbles into a hulking mountain of golden dust.
Juliette stares at the scene in awe as the crowd shrieks around her.
Did she just...?
No way...
"Incredible! Just incredible!"
Julie falls out of her transformation and right to her knees. It takes a moment before she can tear her eyes from the drakon-shaped sand dune in front of her. The emperor has lowered down from his golden box in the stands, still clad in just his gold speedo and sandals (a sight Juliette would very much appreciate if he weren't a raving psychotic murderer currently violating her human rights).
Lityerses is hovering tightly behind him, hand on his sword like the good little henchman he is. Commodus motions at the two blemmyae also accompanying him, and the creatures move forward to take either of Juliette's arms, lifting her off the ground to stand before the man. Julie nearly bites through her lip to keep from screaming in pain.
Commodus claps his hands together in delight, beaming. "I must say, I have been so looking forward to this. I never got to have a cordolium, you know? My father's colleague was the reason they fell out of fashion just before my rule. I was always so sour about never getting my own. And, now look at this one!" He turns to Lit, and Juliette realizes the emperor isn't even addressing her. "Isn't it magnificent?! Slaying a drakon! At-" He blinks and turns to her finally. "How old are you, dear? Answer."
The cuff on Juliette's left arm sears. She cries out and sags against the blemmyae's hold, choking out her response. "Sixteen."
"Sixteen! Incredible!"
Julie squeezes her eyes shut, shaking away the red tint in her vision. Gods, that order took control so quickly. She didn't even think before responding. She needs to figure out how to counter these cuffs. Fast.
"You said its name is Juliette?" Commodus asks Lit.
The swordsman nods. Commodus strokes his beard with a frown, pecks bouncing back and forth. "No, no, that's a terrible name..." He snaps his fingers and turns to Julie with a smile. "Cadmea! I'll call you Cadmea. After all, your predesessor, Achillea, got her name from reenacting Achilles' battle with the Amazons for Emperor Lucius. You just slayed me a drakon! Just like Cadmus! That seems fitting, don't you think, Cadmea?"
The emperor beams at her expectantly. Juliette has to take a moment for her brain to catch up with how quickly he just said all those words. Trembling all over, she eventually has to drop her head to stare down at the wound still oozing purple on her ribs.
She looks back up at Commodus.
"I think I'm about to bleed to death," She says flatly.
Then, she passes out.
Juliette dreams she's underwater.
Or...she thinks she is.
Her hair is floating around her in a reddish-gold cloud, some strands twisting in spirals while others wave gently. There are bubbles rising from her lips.
Yeah. Underwater must be right, then.
But, if she's underwater...why are there faces all around her?
She's surrounded. Blank white visages are staring at her. Twenty-no. Fifty in number at least. All around. Everywhere she looks.
Logic tells her she should feel wary of them.
She doesn't, though.
Floating, weightless, Juliette reaches out a hand.
Another reaches back. It winds their fingers together. It feels...familiar.
Warmth blooms in her. Around her. Juliette smiles.
She closes her eyes and loses herself in the patterns of the scars on the hand twisted with hers.
Something feels right about this. Even when her demigod instincts are screaming that it's wrong.
Still smiling, Juliette takes a deep breath.
And, she drowns.
Julie has woken up in some pretty shitty places over the years.
The bottom of a nymphaeum after nearly drowning to death. The sewers under Medea's fake shopping mall (still a heartbreaking disappointment). The Aphrodite Cabin on the day before Valentine's Day.
She thinks this cell is in her Top Five Worst BnBs. Maybe #2 after the Princess Andromeda. Although, Cabin 10 does get pretty feral mid-February.
Sitting up slowly to keep from screaming at the pain in her joints, Julie tries to use what little light is spilling in from the hall outside her cell to take inventory of her body. She looks down.
Whoever treated her wounds apparently decided she wasn't making much use of the rags her CHB shirt had been reduced to, but they mercifully left her navy blue sports bra on. Julie traces her fingers over the puckered, jagged white line she now has cutting across the left side of her ribcage.
Well. If nothing else, at least her new scar looks sick as fuck.
Doesn't it?
Haha.
Ha.
Jokes.
Funny jokes...
Julie might be losing her mind.
She scoots back on the cold concrete floor until she can lean against the wall. Juliette has been here 48 hours now.
'Oh no!' you say?
Why yes, voices in her head, it has been quite terrible. Would you like to hear about it, figment of her imagination standing in the corner holding a carton of eggs and a knife?
'Of course, I would, Julie! You're my bestest friend, after all!'
Aww, thanks, psychosis hallucination. She's a big fan of yours as well.
"Well, after the fight with the drakon, I did not bleed to death after all," She explains to the shadow demon smiling at her in the corner. "My lovely friend - you know Prince Charming? - he took wonderful care of me! Even brought me to this cozy crib!"
Julie gestures at the cell around her with a smile. It's, like, seven foot by seven foot and entirely concrete. Except for the bucket in the corner. The pee bucket. Her second bestie.
"I know I sound sarcastic, but I don't mean to hurt your feelings. You've been the highlight of my prisoner experience here-"
"Who the fuck are you talking to?" Lityerses asks sourly.
Julie gasps in surprise, turning towards his voice. Her teenage prison warden is leaned up against the wall opposite her cell. "Prince Charming! When did you get here?!"
"I've been here for five minutes."
"What?! No you haven't."
He stares at her. Julie can't tell if it's in bewilderment or disgust. Definitely the first one, actually. She has never been disgusting in her whole life. She's perfect.
"We just had an entire conversation."
Julie blinks. That doesn't sound familiar. Lit's eyebrows scrunch together in a disturbed kind of fascination. Like he's watching a firey car crash cook a family of five.
"Damn," He mutters, shaking his head. "Is this nectar toxicity, or are you just batshit?"
Julie replies by trying to see if she can pull her lower lip all the way over her chin. She can. This delights her.
"Did you come to see me?" She giggles.
Lit scowls. "I came to see if you were alive. You have another fight in an hour."
"You don't want to hang out?" Julie asks sadly, pointing at her shadow friend in the corner. "I can tell him to be nice."
"Babe, you're hot, but I would rather chew glass," He answers flatly. "Commodus wants you fed. I'm gonna unlock your cell, and if you try anything, I will stab you."
"Oh, you charmer, you. You can say you want to be friends, you know. I won't tell anyone."
He just rolls his eyes and motions at the blemmyae down the hall. Two come waddling up to him as he locates the key to her cell on his never ending keyring.
Julie has spent most of her time in Commodus' funhouse of asphalt and sewage drains just sitting in this cell and staring at the wall. Hearing that she gets to go out and about for a bit, even if it means she might have to fight another big scary monster in his football gladiator ring of death, is enough to make her a bit bubbly.
Which is perfect, because all her staring at the wall and thinking about how exactly she's going to take this royal douchebag down has only yielded one solid idea. And, it's one she's going to need enthusiasm for.
The moment the two blemmyae reach down to roughly snag her arms, Juliette beams at them.
"Thank you so much, Cheryl," She says sweetly, accepting the balancing arm from the blemmyae assigned as basically her mobile scooter (amputee things). "I really appreciate all your help."
The blemmyae pauses. She looks at her friend. Her friend looks back at her. Then, she turns fully to Juliette.
"You remembered my name?"
Julie tries to look confused. Yes, this is definitely a gesture of courtesy. She isn't manipulating them at all. "Of course, I did. It would have been impolite not to, right Johnny?"
Both blemmyae gape at her, actual tears forming in the corners of their terrifying, too wide eyes.
Okay, she feels a little bad now.
"You're welcome!"
"How polite! Thank you so much for your gratitude!"
Nevermind, this is perfect.
Juliette nods. "No, Cheryl, thank you!"
"No, thank you!"
"Thank you, Johnny!"
"Oh, but I have to thank yo-"
"Holy fuck, please shut up!" Lityerses bursts. He blinks rapidly in annoyance and turns on his heel, exiting the cell. "Now, let's go. The emperor is waiting."
Julie grins. "Of course. It would be impolite not to be punctual."
Cheryl and Johnny look at her like she's a gift sent from Olympus.
"You are a wonderful human."
"Oh, Cheryl, thank you so much. I think you're a wonderful blemmyae!"
"Thank yo-!"
Lit clangs his sword against the gold bars impatiently.
Juliette grins to herself when both blemmyae turn and give him sour looks. She grins even wider when Cheryl sweeps her off her one foot to carry her off to Commodus like a princess rather than dragging her.
Oh, yeah.
Juliette is a godsdamn mastermind.
She may be a prisoner right now, but give it a week.
Pretty soon, she's gonna be running this motherfucker.
When Jason is angry, he trains.
That's pretty normal for demigods. Most of the time, when you enter the arena at CHB, there will be at least one or two campers hacking away at a training dummy with the gusto of a warrior who has something to get of their chest. Without parents to rant to or a camp assigned guidance counselor, controlled, sanctioned violence is the most effective outlet any of them really have. It's not unusual.
There aren't any training dummies at Jason's boarding school, though. There aren't any monsters out lurking in the woods - there haven't been ever since Caligula started recruiting them all.
So, Jason runs instead. He runs, and he reads.
He runs the shorelines until he's seen and counted every one of the yachts and cruise ships in the emperor's fleet.
He reads up on Caligula's past - on the past of every emperor that could have any reason to be in the Triumvirate and plotting against the gods.
He runs circles around where the Burning Maze is located in Los Angeles to memorize every guard position and their rotation schedule.
He reads about the Pandai that Caligula has built the majority of his army out of, learning of their Indian ancestry and the extent of their unmatched strength.
Jason runs until he can't breathe anymore. Until he can't think. Until her face finally fades from behind his eyes. He doesn't know where she is. He doesn't know if she's hurt. His tether is as silent and still as a body in an unmarked grave.
He does know one thing.
Jason will never leave her behind. No matter what that means. No matter what.
And, that's a thought he can't bear to dwell on. So, he runs until it's gone.
