Chapter 2: The Night Everything Changed
The night had wrapped Camp Half-Blood in a chilling embrace, the kind that seeped through the walls of even the sturdiest of cabins. Inside the one belonging to the children of Zeus, Thalia lay awake, her bed a makeshift raft on a sea of shadows. She had been tossing and turning for what felt like eons, the blankets twisted in a mess of linen as if to mirror her convoluted thoughts. It was the night of her sixteenth birthday. Each tick of the clock was not just a heavy footstep in her mind; it was a tolling bell marking the approach of midnight, marching her closer to a destiny she never asked for.
She resented the constant reminders of who she was, who her father was, and what it meant for her. The cabin felt less like a sanctuary and more like a gilded cage, ornamented with the trappings of Zeus's realm. There lay a model of the master bolt on her dresser, an image of an eagle carved into her bedpost, and the subtle scent of ozone that always clung to the air. To Thalia, these were not comforts but markers of a lineage that demanded an overwhelmingly taxing future of her—a future that was written in the stars before she even drew breath. These walls, with their divine insignia, pressed upon her, and the air was heavy with the weight of expectation.
Tonight, the cabin was shrouded in darkness, feeling tighter than the sky just before a storm. Its vast hollow spaces, now devoid of even the faintest glimmer of light, amplified the profound solitude that enveloped Thalia. Not a breath whispered from the neighboring bunks—no rhythm of a fellow demigod's sleep to break the stillness. She was utterly alone, the lone occupant in a shrine dedicated to a lineage that felt more like a burden than a birthright. The darkness seemed to press upon her, enhancing the oppression of silence that hung thickly, so tangible that Thalia could almost hear the echo of her own heartbeat against the divine emblems that adorned her quarters.
The whispers of her own turbulent thoughts were relentless, and enveloped her in a profound sense of solitude. This prickling solitude, this restlessness that seemed to stem from deep within her core, finally became the force that propelled her out of bed. She sought an escape from the suffocating destiny that the four walls of the cabin represented, an escape from the prophecy that wove an uncertain future around her very being.
With a sense of quiet urgency, Thalia slid out from under her tangled covers, making a silent vow with the night—she would find respite, however brief, beneath the indifferent stars. She wrapped a cloak around her shoulders, not so much to ward off the night's chill but to give herself the illusion of comfort. Resolved, Thalia stepped away from her bed, her feet finding the cold floor, and moved toward the door with deliberate steps. The icy chill of the night air beckoned, promising a temporary remedy for the restlessness that burned like a hidden flame.
As Thalia's hand pushed open the cabin door, a cold gust of air rushed to greet her, so sharp and sudden that it snatched her breath away. If the cabin had felt like a cage, outside was the wild, untempered domain of the elements, not acknowledging her divine parentage or her mortal fears. The chill gnawed through her cloak and kissed her skin with a briskness that was almost a reprimand for daring to venture out on such a night.
But even as her body recoiled, her spirit leaned into it. She wouldn't allow the cold to drive her back into the stifling loneliness of the cabin. Closing the door behind her with a soft click, Thalia embarked into the night. The crisp sound of her footsteps on the frost-covered ground accompanied her wavering resolve. Every sound seemed heightened, each crackle of frost underfoot a loud mark in the hushed world.
As she walked, she hesitated momentarily, contemplating her direction—towards the sheltered woods, the familiar training grounds, or the none of these felt right. Instead, Thalia found herself drawn towards the seashore, its open expanse a reflection of the vast uncertainty that lay before her.
Moving with a purpose, Thalia was acutely aware of her surroundings—the whisper of the wind through the leaves speaking the language of change, and the distant hush of the sea like a lullaby for the looming end of her normalcy. She knew that beyond tonight, the sounds of the camp might take on new meaning as the prophecy's child. Each step became a memorization, an attempt to capture the moment before the world would know her not as Thalia Grace, but rather the catalyst upon which fate would turn.
The shoreline unfurled before Thalia like a vast, dark canvas painted over with frothy streaks of silver. The air was rich with the scent of the ocean. Above, the full moon hung heavy, a solitary eye watching the unfolding of the mortal dramas below with a celestial detachment that bordered on indifference.
This seascape, eternally caught in the push and pull between the moon's pull and the earth's embrace, seemed an unmoved spectator to the unfolding human narratives. Yet to Thalia, standing there, it felt as though the world had paused on the very brink of some great, looming disclosure. Each thunderous crash of water on the shore was like the drumbeat of destiny, marking the time until her inevitable entwinement with the threads of fate. She tried to match her breathing with the rhythmic coming and going of the tides, seeking to calm the storm of foreboding that raged within her ribs.
For a fleeting moment, she let herself imagine that she could cast her fears into the depths, allowing them to sink beneath the waves and be swallowed by the abyss. Tonight, she thought, the shores of Camp Half-Blood were her confidants, the only witnesses to her soliloquy of doubts and silent pledges. So lost was she in her communion with the sea that the sudden appearance of a silhouette down the beach sliced through her introspection, bringing her sharply back to a reality where destiny was not something to be cast away, but confronted.
A jolt of adrenaline shot through her; her muscles tensed, and her hand instinctively reached for a weapon she hadn't brought along. Could it be that the threads of the prophecy were entangling her sooner than expected?
She approached cautiously, the silhouette growing clearer with each tentative step. Its movements were too calm, too familiar, to belong to the mythical forces that she half-expected to be unleashed upon her. Then, the moonlight revealed a softness around the edges of the figure.
"Percy?" she called out, her voice mingling with the wind, seeking confirmation.
As they drew nearer, the shadows fell away from the figure, and the features of Percy Jackson came into view, his posture relaxed yet his eyes reflecting the tumultuous sea before them. Relief washed over her, cool and swift as the waters, and she let out a small laugh—a laugh that sounded more like a release of the tension she'd been carrying. Whatever the night held, whatever the prophecy demanded, it hadn't begun yet. Here, now, it was just Percy, caught out in the night like herself.
"Thalia? What are you doing out here?" Percy's voice cut through the silence, tinged with the kind of weary curiosity that only another sleepless soul could understand.
Thalia managed a half-smile, resisting the chill that urged her to wrap her arms even tighter around herself. "I could ask you the same question," she retorted with a hint of her usual fire.
Percy's gaze lingered on the horizon where the sea met the sky in a dance of darkness. "I couldn't sleep. I just needed to get away from everything." He sighed, turning to look at Thalia, his eyes a storm that matched the night's tension. "The sea always helps quiet everything down for me, you know? It's just a part of who I am." A pause hung in the air as the sound of a crashing wave echoed throughout the shoreline. "I take it you couldn't sleep either?"
Drawing a deep breath, Thalia's reply seemed to mingle with the sigh of the tide. "The cabin was just... echoey tonight. Too much space for one person and too many reminders of . . . you know."
"The prophecy." Percy finished.
Thalia gave a defeated nod. She wrapped her arms around herself, but it was clear that the cold wasn't the only thing she was trying to fend off. "Turning sixteen isn't supposed to be this... awful," Thalia continued, the edge of humor in her voice as brittle as ice. "I'm supposed to worry about normal things like... I don't know, driver's licenses, prom, or even a math test for gods sake. Not about some stupid prophecy."
A small, understanding smile passed between them, a shared moment of dark comic relief amidst the gravity of their conversation. "Yeah," Percy agreed, "not many people have to worry about their birthday triggering world-changing events."
After Percy's acknowledgment, silence enveloped them. In that quiet, Thalia's unease crystallized; her worries, fears, and the heavy weight of the her approaching fate hung suspended in the chilly air around them. The light-heartedness that had momentarily eased the tension dissipated as quickly as it had appeared, replaced by the stark coldness of her reality.
The numbing cold enveloped them, and as Thalia looked out over the water, the frigid night seemed to press around her, and along with it the realization of her own fears.
As these fears circled around her, she began to hold upon the thought that the shoreline upon which she was standing with Percy felt like a preordained meeting place. A crossing of paths that was almost too timely to be mere chance. It was as if the elements had conspired to bring them together at this moment, providing a silent space for confessions and uncertainties. Thalia pondered the idea that perhaps their encounter wasn't just coincidence, but an act of fate. Maybe it was fate that drew her out of her cabin, the same force that nudged Percy to the beach: the same fate that now waited for her words to escape her mouth.
She trusted Percy, but opening up about such intimate fears felt like surrendering a piece of her armor, like exposing a vulnerable piece of herself. And yet, were they not both here together, a chance meeting on a night with such weight as this?
Her mind wrestled with the decision. To expose her hidden fears of dread that raged beneath her stoic exterior meant acknowledging them out loud, giving them form and sound: making them as real as the sand she stood on. But as she stood there, something shifted within her. If fate had truly brought them on this collision course tonight, then perhaps there was strength to be found in that vulnerability, a chance to share the burden that had become too heavy to carry alone.
"Percy," Thalia's voice broke the silence, stilling the night. There was a tremor in it, betraying the usual steadiness she projected. She looked at him, really looked at him, her electric blue eyes searching for an anchor of support. "I'm scared," she simply said, "about the prophecy, about turning sixteen. All of it. I don't think I can do it." the confession stark against the backdrop of darkness and roaring waves. The winds seemed to carry her words away, but Percy heard them—clear and raw.
His expression, solemn in the face of Thalia's vulnerability, softened as he offered her a small but affirmative nod. "I've been right next to you ever since you came back from your pine, Thalia, and this prophecy won't change that," he reassured her, his voice steady and confident against the symphony of the waves. "We've been through a lot together since we first met. This is just another page in that story. I know you can do it."
Thalia relaxed a little, the tension that had been coiled within her unwinding just a little as she absorbed the sincerity in Percy's assurance, knowing that whatever came, she wouldn't be alone.
"The prophecy... What exactly does it say?" Percy's question, simple yet weighted, hung in the air like their misty breaths in the cold. "Whatever it is, we'll face it together. But to help you, I need to know, Thalia, what exactly are we up against?"
Thalia hesitated, her eyes momentarily closing. She inhaled deeply, the cold air filling her lungs. "It's too much to say out loud right now," she admitted, opening her eyes to meet Percy's concerned gaze. "speaking them out loud right now would do me over."
Percy nodded slowly, understanding the weight of her silent burden. "You don't have to say it now. Whenever you're ready, I'm here," he said, his voice gentle and supportive.
Thalia's shoulders eased a bit more at Percy's acceptance. "Thank you," she murmured, feeling a warm flicker of solidarity amidst the cold. She took another deep breath, allowing herself to lean on the strength Percy offered. The silence between them was laden with unspoken understanding.
Percy's and Thalia's eyes met again, "How long have you known the words?" He asked.
"Chiron told me shortly after I came back from being a pine tree," Thalia responded. "It's been on my mind ever since."
"That's a long time to have that on your shoulders," Percy acknowledged, his voice full of empathy. He knew the burden of the relentless weight of a prophecy hanging over one's head, his eyes were filled with compassion as he watched Thalia look out over the dark ocean.
Thalia looked towards the sky, to her fathers domain. "I guess I always thought I'd find a way around it," she confessed, with the faintest hint of irony. "Joining the Hunters, or... something else. I don't know. I thought I could outrun it, outsmart it. That's why when Artemis asked Annabeth instead of me I was...shocked. Like my life had just ended."
Percy's reply came with a heavy sigh, resonating with a similar sense of resignation. "I guess that makes two of us." he acknowledged.
Thalia, despite her burdens and the ever-present shadow of her fate, saw the pain in Percy's eyes. It was a quiet kind of suffering, one that perhaps only those who had similarly loved and lost could recognize—a look that seemed to reach beyond the ocean's horizon.
"Hey," she started, her tone softer, shifted from her own woes to the empathy she held for her friend. "I'm sorry, Percy. You know, I could see how much you cared about her. I can only imagine what you're feeling." She paused, giving space for her words to settle.
"It must feel like the grounds been ripped out from under you," she continued, acknowledging the weight of his unspoken grief. "Annabeth made her choice to do what's best for her. But that doesn't make it sting any less. I miss her a lot too. Just knowing that she's not here. It hurts." Thalia's gaze locked with Percy's, mirroring a mix of compassion, pain, and understanding.
Percy's features showed deep regret, his eyes losing their usual spark as he confided in Thalia, "I should have told her to not do it before we got to the throne room. I should have tried to convince her before Artemis even asked. I knew she was thinking about going through with it. Maybe I could have changed her mind. "He sighed, the weight of his unvoiced words seeming as burdensome as the prophecy hanging over Thalia. "I really thought we'd have a future together. But now that's never going to happen."
Percy's admission hung heavily in the cold night air between them, his sense of loss nearly tangible. Thalia, keenly aware of the weight of his words, allowed silence to linger for a moment, giving respect to his feelings. Then, with a measured sigh that seemed to borrow warmth from a far-off summer, she spoke.
"I don't know how, Percy, but it'll be okay. It's okay to grieve over what happened. It's devastating, to see something you care so much about slip away just like that and not being able to do anything about it. I'm so sorry." She scanned his face, noting the way the moonlight played across his features, casting shadows that seemed to deepen his frown. "Just know that I'm here for you, Percy. Whenever you need help. Just like you're here for me."
Percy met her gaze, "Thanks, Thalia. Really." he said, with a sincerity in his tone that spoke to the depth of his gratitude. In turn, Thalia felt a warm flicker of solidarity amidst the cold, acknowledging not just Percy's gratitude, but the comfort she drew from his presence by her side.
Silence once more came upon them like the waves receding from the shore. It was the kind of silence that spoke volumes, the kind shared by those who understood each other's pain without the need for words. Above them, the stars provided their distant comfort, but below, the chill of reality wrapped tight around them. They were two figures, silhouettes against the vastness of the ocean, bound together by shared grief.
As Thalia looked out over the tumultuous waters, she realized that they were both shivering, not just from the emotional turmoil, but from the literal cold that had settled into their bones. They had been exposed to the elements for too long, the cold seeping through their clothes, edging into their skin with insistent fingers.
"We can't just stand here all night," Percy finally said, his voice barely above the sound of the waves. "The cold's only going to get worse." It was an acknowledgment, a concession to the elements, but carrying an undercurrent of reluctance to let their connection fade into the night.
Thalia felt it too, the backdrop of the frigid tide echoing the chill that had settled in her core. The thought of retreating into the solitude of Zeus's cabin, confronting the quiet loneliness of empty walls, was more than she could bear. Her thoughts danced on the edge of hope, toying with the idea of extending this unexpected solace further into the night.
"Hey, so..." Thalia's voice was tentative, as if she were testing out the waters to see if they were cold. "I don't want this to come out the wrong way, but we don't have to go back to… to our emptiness. To being by ourselves." Her suggestion was an invitation to continue finding solace in each other's company, to ward off the solitude that threatened to amplify the troubles in their minds. The subtle shift in Percy's posture, a loosening of his shoulders, perhaps, emboldened her to speak her mind. "I just... I don't think I can go back to Zeus's cabin right now. Its just too much for me. Its cold, and empty. It reminds me too much of a fate I'm not ready to face."
She saw in Percy's eyes an echo of her own need for companionship amidst the storm of their lives, a subtle understanding that neither of them was quite ready to say goodbye. She could see him slowly processing what her admission truly meant. The silence stretched between them. In that quiet moment, she hoped he would grasp her unspoken wish.
Thalia watched Percy struggle momentarily with the implications of her suggestion, his mind working to catch up with his heart. "So you want to..." His words trailed off as he grasped the meaning behind her words. Realizing what she was asking, he gave a small, sheepish smile and said "Yeah, we can... uh, Poseidon's cabin is warm. We could go there, together, if you want."
Thalia nodded, a wave of relief washing over her as she mirrored Percy's small, sheepish smile. "That sounds good," she replied. Together, they turned away from the shore, their steps measured and synchronized, heading toward the shelter of Poseidon's cabin.
The path was lit by the soft glow of the moon and the stars, their light casting gentle shadows on the ground. The sounds of the ocean gradually dimmed as they walked away, replaced by the quiet rustling of leaves. Despite the solemnity of the night, there was a subtle excitement in their movements, a shared anticipation of the warmth and further companionship that awaited them.
As they walked, Thalia and Percy moved in gentle silence, their shared presence offered as much comfort as words. The crunch of gravel underfoot provided a steady rhythm to their steps. Occasionally, the stillness was punctuated by the snap of a twig or the rustle of branches as nocturnal creatures moved through the vegetation. Thalia's breath fogged in the cold air, creating brief wisps that quickly dissipated. She glanced at Percy, whose features were softened by the gentle light, and felt a surge of gratitude for his presence on a night like this.
The cabin came into view, its structure more modest than Zeus's, yet it radiated a welcoming warmth that Thalia found immensely comforting. Unlike the imposing columns and vast expanse of her father's quarters, Poseidon's cabin had a cozy, inviting charm, The outer cabin walls, crafted from rough gray stone embedded with seashells and coral, looked like the bottom of the ocean floor, adding to its unique and inviting feel and creating an atmosphere of warmth and comfort that seemed to embrace them as they approached.
When they arrived, Percy opened the door, the hinges creaking softly in the quiet night, and gestured for Thalia to step inside. When Thalia entered the cabin, she immediately felt the difference. The air was warm, wrapping around her like a gentle ocean breeze on a summer's day. It carried the unmistakable scent of the sea—salt, seaweed, and the faintest hint of something floral, like kelp washed ashore. This comforting aroma filled her lungs, pushing away the chill that had settled deep within her bones.
The cabin's interior was a harmonious blend of nautical charm and inviting warmth. Blue and green hues decorated the room, reflecting the colors of the sea and creating a serene, calming atmosphere. In one corner, a beautifully crafted fountain emitted a warm mist, filling the air with a gentle, soothing touch. The sound of water trickling added a constant melody of peace to the space. Hidden within the fountain were delicate lights that cast a soft, shimmering glow throughout the room, mimicking the gentle dance of sunlight filtering through water. The dim yet warm light from the fountain wrapped the cabin in a comforting embrace, making it feel like a cozy underwater haven. The warmth and serenity of the space made Thalia feel as though she were wrapped in a protective hug, far removed from the cold night and the heavy burdens that awaited outside.
Thalia chose one of the beds on one side of the cabin and sat down, sinking into the soft mattress as the warmth of the room began to chase away the lingering chill. Percy settled onto the bed directly across from her. Thalia let out a big sigh as she sat up on the bed, "It feels like we've been going nonstop since Westover Hall," she said.
Percy nodded, sitting up on his own bed across from her. "I hadn't even thought about that, but you're right. It feels like it was forever ago, but it's only been a few days," he replied, his tone reflecting a mix of disbelief and weariness.
Thalia smirked, a hint of her usual fire returning. "Only a few days since we almost killed each other during capture the flag," she quipped, her eyes sparkling with a touch of humor.
Percy let out a little laugh, the sound lightening the mood and easing some of the tension that had settled between them. "Yeah, a lot has changed since then," he agreed, his tone becoming more reflective. "We've all been through a lot. You more than any one."
Thalia shook her head slightly, her smirk softening into a more serious expression. "I don't know about that, Percy. You literally held up the even half a day ago. I mean... that's incredible. Most people would have been crushed instantly."
Percy's face grew solemn as he acknowledged Thalia's comment, his eyes distant as if he were reliving the experience. The weight of that moment seemed to settle over him again, a reminder of the immense burden he had carried.
Thalia, sensing the gravity of his thoughts, leaned forward slightly. "What was it like? To hold up the sky?"
Percy took a deep breath, "I... can't explain it. It was like... every muscle in my body burst into fire. Like... all of my bones were being melted right there. It was awful."
"But you did it." Thalia said with awe before Percy could get lost in the painful memories of the experience. Her eyes looked intently at him. "What kept you going?"
Percy took a deep breath, his eyes reflecting a mix of determination and vulnerability. "Knowing that I wasn't alone. That you, Annabeth, or Zoë would have taken my place in an instant if you had the chance. Knowing that you were all counting on me and needed me. Just as much as I was counting on all of you."
Thalia's eyes softened. "That's so selfless, Percy." She looked down, her voice tinged with uncertainty. "Honestly, it would be better for everyone if you were the child of the prophecy. I'm not as selfless as you are. That's what I'm worried about—that when it comes down to it, I won't make the selfless choice. And that wrong choice will cause the fall of Olympus."
Percy's eyes filled with unwavering support, "Don't say that, Thalia. You're more selfless than anyone in this camp. Who was the demigod that made a final stand so her friends could cross the camp border safely?"
Thalia's mind flashed back to that fateful day, remembering her sacrifice so that Luke and Annabeth could get safely into camp. She had put herself in harm's way to protect her friends. The memory was vivid, as if it had just happened.
Percy continued, his voice steady and reassuring. "You've already proven your selflessness, Thalia. You've made hard choices before, and you'll do it again if you have to. I don't doubt that for a second. I'll be right next to you the entire way, from when you turn sixteen until the prophecy is over."
Thalia's eyes widened at the mention of her turning sixteen. She had been so engrossed in her unexpected reunion with Percy and their heavy conversation that she had completely lost track of time. The weight of their words and the comfort of their shared presence had made the timeslip by unnoticed.
A sudden urgency gripped her, and she glanced around the room, searching for a clock. Her eyes darted from the nautical decorations to the soft glow of the fountain, but nothing indicated the time. She stood up, her movements quick and almost frantic, and moved to where she could see Percy's digital clock on his nightstand. The glowing red numbers stared back at her, and to her astonishment, it was 12:17. The realization hit her like a tidal wave, a mix of emotions flooding her mind. The prophecy, the fears, the expectations—all of it converged in that moment. She felt a shiver run down her spine from the gravity of what the time on the clock represented.
Thalia Grace had turned sixteen years old. The prophecy was now in motion.
She stood there for a moment, frozen, as the significance of the time sank in. The prophecy had always been a distant, looming threat, but now it was here, real and immediate. Her heart pounded in her chest. She took a deep breath, trying to steady herself, but the enormity of the situation was overwhelming. She could almost hear the ticking of an invisible clock, each second a reminder of the prophecy's impending fulfillment.
"I'm sixteen years old." She said to herself in disbelief.
Percy noticed her distress and quickly moved to her side. "Hey, hey," he started, his voice calm and soothing. He placed a gentle hand on her shoulder, trying to anchor her in the present. "It's okay. You're going to be alright."
Thalia's eyes met his, wide with uncertainty. "Do you feel any different?" Percy asked, his tone soft but urgent, hoping to calm down her racing mind.
She took a breath, her mind still reeling "I... I don't know," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. "It's just... it's real now. The prophecy, everything. It's happening."
"But not right now though," Percy reassured her. "Whatever the prophecy says, it doesn't mean it'll happen right when you turn sixteen. You'll have time to process everything. To prepare. Your birthday, it just confirms something you've known for a while. You'll be alright."
Thalia took a deep breath, feeling the weight of his words sink in. The racing thoughts that had gripped her began to ease, replaced by a sense of calm. The tightness in her chest started to loosen. Percy noticed the change in her, the way her breathing steadied and her eyes softened. He gave her a reassuring smile and said, "You're still Thalia Grace."
"You're right, Percy." Thalia let out a small, relieved laugh. "Are you sure you're not the god of therapy's son?" she asked, her tone slightly joking. "Because you've been a huge help tonight."
Percy chuckled, shaking his head. "Nope, just the son of Poseidon," he replied with a grin. "You haven't been too bad yourself."
Thalia smiled, the tension in her shoulders finally easing. She felt a renewed feeling of warmth spread through her, not just from the cabin's cozy interior but from the comfort of Percy's presence. They both moved back to their beds. As they sat down, the weight of the prophecy seemed a little less daunting to Thalia. She glanced over at Percy, her smile lingering, grateful for the unexpected encounter on the beach.
They continued to talk for a while longer, but the conversation shifted to lighter topics. The heavy weight of destiny and prophecy faded into the background, replaced by small laughter and the comfort of friendship. They found themselves engrossed in their conversation, the words flowing easily between them. Time seemed to fly by as they talked, the minutes slipping away unnoticed. Every now and then, their eyes would meet and linger just a moment longer than usual, a subtle connection that neither fully acknowledged but both felt. Even though they were both exhausted, they stayed awake, unwilling to let the night end so they could continue to enjoy the moment of peace and connection. This newfound sense of connection was surprising, something they hadn't expected to experience with one another that night, and it carried a hint of something more, a subtle undercurrent of unspoken feelings beginning to emerge from their hearts. The warmth of their bond made the time pass quickly, leaving them both feeling a little more at peace.
Eventually, Thalia let out a small yawn and stretched. "I really need to get some sleep," she admitted, her voice tinged with reluctance. "But I... don't want to go back to Zeus's cabin. It's freezing outside... And I don't want to ruin all the comfort I've felt tonight by leaving."
Percy nodded, understanding her hint. Their eyes locked, and for a moment, the room seemed to grow even quieter. The connection between them felt palpable, a silent understanding passing between their gazes. Percy felt a flutter in his chest, a mix of protectiveness and something deeper.
"You can stay here," he offered, his voice gentle. "There's plenty of room, and it's warm."
Thalia smiled, her eyes reflecting gratitude and a hint of something more. "Thanks, Percy. I appreciate it. Everything. This night was going to be the worst one of my life," she admitted softly, "I'm thankful you were here for me."
She settled back into the bed. The warmth of Poseidon's cabin and the comfort of Percy's presence made her feel safe and at ease.
Percy watched her for a moment, his heart swelling with a mix of emotions. "I'm thankful you were here for me too," he said quietly, his voice filled with sincerity.
They both lay down, adjusting their positions to get comfortable. The room was filled with a peaceful silence, broken only by the gentle sound of the fountain. Percy turned off the lights, and the room was enveloped in darkness, except for the soft, sea-like glow emitted by the fountain, casting a serene light over the space As they settled in, the warmth of the cabin and the presence of each other provided a comforting blanket, allowing them to feel more at ease than they had in a long time.
"Oh, and Percy?" Thalia's voice broke the comfortable silence.
"Yeah?" Percy responded, turning his head slightly in her direction.
"Could you set the alarm for 4:45?" she asked, her tone a bit hesitant.
"Why so early?" Percy asked.
"I don't want anyone seeing me come out of your cabin in the morning." Thalia explained, her voice dropping to a whisper.
"Right," Percy replied, understanding dawning on him. They couldn't see each other, but they both blushed at the implication.
As Thalia closed her eyes, a sense of safety and warmth enveloped her, and she felt a quiet happiness settle in her heart. The night had brought unexpected comfort, and as she drifted off to sleep, the burdens of the prophecy seemed just a little lighter, the future just a little less daunting. As long as the green eyed son of Poseidon was close to her, she thought as she drifted off to sleep, everything would somehow be okay.
I had a lot of fun writing this chapter, as it was challenging but rewarding trying to balance the heavy weight put upon Thalia and Percy while at the same time allowing their romantic relationship to start to take place. I think the mutual reliance they both have on each other will go a long way to make their relationship meaningful throughout the story. This chapter is inspired in part by CommanderDuck14's oneshot titled, "Sweet Dreams," which involves Thalia constantly sneaking into Poseidon's cabin at night to snuggle with Percy. It's a cute, short read if you're looking for a good Perlia fic, and you can find it in my favorites.
Don't forget to favorite and follow if you're enjoying this as much as I am. Let me know what you think by dropping a review! As always, thanks for reading and see you next chapter, where things might get a bit rough for everyone at Camp Half-Blood (that's all I'm saying!).
- pjowriter27
Review Responses:
SD2901:
I'm glad you're liking it! I'm doing my best to make the characters act like how they normally would while at the same time exploring the chemistry between Percy and Thalia. I think the vulnerable position both of them are in allows them to open up in ways they normally wouldn't have in the originals. It's been a lot of fun!
Luq707:
I appreciate your comments! I've modified the previous chapter to implement them :) Thank you for caring enough to offer suggestions!
JoJo 'Perlia' Jesus:
Thanks for believing in this! I hope it gets big too, and I'm happy you're liking the story :)