Ogygia, a percy jackson and the olympians fanfic

The pain is like nothing Percy has ever felt before, worse than the pit scorpion, worse thanholding the sky, even.

He felt like he'd been deep fried, then stomped on then friedagain.

He's in and out of sleep like a wave rolling on the beach, he's barely conscious each time he comes to but he remembers the pain, the overwhelming burning sensation in his arms and legs, as if he were still in that volcano, his throat as dry as sand.

A girl appears in his vision sometimes, caramel hair and large, almond eyes staring down at him, her pink lips pulled up into a fond smile as if this girlknewhim. She caressed his cheek with a tender palm, brushed her fingers through his hair and murmured soft-spoken words that Percy couldn't remember afterwards but cringed at the memory of her lips brushing his ear as she spoke.

When he finally comes to he's blinking up at the stone ceiling of a cave above him. The faint sound of a fountain gurgles in the background and he can smell juniper and cedar, and a bunch of other sweet scents that Percy couldn't name in his half-delirious state. He could hear waves, too, crashing against the rocky shore.

Percy wondered if he were dead, but no. The pain was still there, and besides, he'dbeento the underworld before. Itdefinitelyhadn't smeltsweet.

He tried to push himself up into a sitting position, groaning as the bandages wrapped around his chest pressed into the inflamed skin, his muscles felt as if they were melting.

"Stay still," the girl's voice commands, causing Percy to flinch, he hadn't realised she was there. "You're still too weak to rise." The girl's lips quirked playfully as she pushed him gently back down onto the cot he was lying on, Percy blinked at her dumbly, wetting his dry mouth.

Gods, how long had he been asleep?

The girl waved a hand and a damp cloth appeared in her hold, Percy was almost too exhausted to clock the magic, but still, it made him nervous.

Goddess, his mind helpfully supplied, instantly becoming guarded.

Percy clenched his fists as she laid the cool cloth against his forehead, either oblivious to, or choosing to ignore the way he leaned away from her touch as she held a bronze spoon above his mouth.

She pressed it against his tight lips, as one would do to a stubborn child, refusing their dinner, raising her delicately arched eyebrows at him. He pressed his mouth tighter, tilting his head away from whatever she was trying to feed him.

"It's nectar, silly. It'll make you feel better." She rolled her eyes exasperatedly and Percy swallowed, parting his lips and letting her dribble the golden liquid into his mouth, the offer of nectar to soothe his burning skintoogood to turn down.

The nectar managed to soothe his throat enough for him to croak out a question.

"Who?" He asked intelligently, earning a giggle from the caramel-haired girl. The spoon previously in her hand was gone now. Instead, she'd pressed a hand against his cheek, eyes tender.

"Shush now, brave one," she said. "Rest and heal, no harm will come to you here. I am the goddess Calypso." As if compelled by her words Percy drifted back off into sleep.

The next time Percy awoke the goddess-Calypso, was nowhere to be seen. The cave ceiling above him glittered with crystal formations - white and purple and emerald green like he was inside one of those cut geodes you'd see in souvenir shops. The walls were smoothed down and lacking any jagged edges like the typical cave, and as far as caves go, well, this was far from the worst he'd been in.

The cave was divided into two sections by gleaming silk curtains. Against one wall stood a large loom and harp, golden threads glistening in the faint rays of sunshine gleaming through the entrance. Against the other wall were shelves upon shelves of neatly stacked jars of fruit preserves. Dried herbs hung from the ceiling: rosemary, thyme and a bunch of other stuff his mom would've been able to name.

There was a fireplace built into the cave wall as if it'd always been there, though it wasn't lit with any flames. Percy was glad, he wasn't sure he wanted to be near any more flames anytime soon, and his damaged jointsachedat the thought.

Percy looked down at his arms, trying his best to ignore the throbbing in his head and grimaced at the scarred skin he found there. Burn scars covered a good portion of his right arm, though the left seemed to have been lucky with only small burns around his wrists. Hedreadedto think of what his torso looked like under all of those bandages.

He noticed, a little uncomfortably that hisclotheshad beenchangedto a white cotton t-shirt, and drawstring trousers that hung around his waist (though he supposed his original clothes must've been burnt in the lava.. )His feet were sockless underneath his silk sheets, the material feeling terrible against his bare skin.

It occurred to him too late to check for riptide. (Annabeth's disapproving voice sounded in his head, "Really, seaweed brain? You wake up on a random island and don't even think to check for your weapon?") his fingers found the plastic of the pen-sword in his pocket and he slumped in relief, there was his pen where it always returned, burnt in lava or not.

His fingers found a second item, this time cool metal and his heart sank a little. He pulled out the Stygian-ice dog whistle, somehow it'd survived Mt Saint Helens and followed him. The thought wasnt particularlyreassuring.

Percy pulled back the sheets and swung his legs off the bed with difficulty, wincing as the motion pulled at the new padded scars around his ankles and knees. Slowly, he stood, using the bed frame for support.

He turned and found himself staring straight into a polished bronze mirror, he let out a startled intake of breath at the sight of the boy staring back at him.

"Holy Poseidon," Percy muttered, poking at his jutting cheekbone. He looked as if he'd lost ten kilos that he couldn't afford to lose, his cheekbones more prominent and collarbones jutting out unhealthily.

His face had thankfully gotten out of the eruption scar-free though the same couldn't be said for his shoulder blades, and the rough purple-red scars snaking up his neck. His curly hair looked dry and frizzy, sticking up in every direction, the ends singed and frazzled like Hephaestus's beard. He pulled at a lock of his burnt hair, he needed a haircut.

Percy grimaced, turning away from the mirror. He padded across one of the fur rugs decorating the cold floor, the cave entrance was to his right, sunlight streaming through the opening.

He left the cover of the cave, jaw-dropping as he glanced around the beautiful scene before him. A green meadow stretched out before him, groves of cedar surrounded the area, the grass was a bright healthy green and the air tasted like sea salt and florals on his lips. Around him grew wildflowers at various stages of budding and bursting with petals.

Fountains gurgled, each shooting water up from the pipes of stone Saytrs. Ahead, the grass sloped down to a rocky beach and Percy felt that familiar frill of excitement at the sight of waves lapping up against the rocks, coming up further and further on the shore, as if the water wasreachingout for him. Percy reached back with his powers, feeling a prickle of disappointment when he realised it was fresh water, a lake then.

The sun shines down on his back though it wasnt the horrible sweaty kind, it was as if the island's temperature was controlled. The scenery around him was perfect which immediately put him onedge, it was like a paradise.

Anybody who had dealt with the mythological world would know that paradise was usually code forsuper dangeroustrap that is probably gonna kill you.

Calypso stood at the beach, her caramel hair and white dress were being ruffled by the wind. She was talking to someone, Percy realised, catching sight of the man who stood in front of her.

Percy couldn't make him out well from over here with the shimmer of the sunlight and water reflection but he could tell they were arguing. (years of living with Gabe had taught him how to read body language)

He tried to remember any myths about Calypso, Percy couldswearhe'd heard that name before, but couldn't seem to place it. Something to do with Odysseus, he thought,orwas it Theseus?

Did she trap heroes and kill them? It wouldn't exactly be a far-fetched assumption going off the other myths of the gods. Though Percy figured if she was seriously evil he wouldn't be alive right now, he'd give her the benefit of the doubt.

He walked towards her slowly, limping a little as his new scars pulled at the muscles in his legs, when he reached the sand he had to look down to keep his balance, feeling a wave of dizziness overtake him for a brief moment. When he looked back up, however, the other figure had disappeared, leaving Calypso standing alone on the beach.

She wore a white sleeves ancient Grecian-style dress, with a low circular cut neckline, trimmed in glittering golden thread. Percy caught her eye as she turned to him, hands brought up to her face, wiping as if she'd just been crying.

"Well," she said shakily, though a smile curled onto her face "looks like the sleeper finally awakens."

"Who- who were you talking to?" He asked croakily. Calypso frowned, glancing over her shoulder as if the man may reappear. She shook her head, a sour look overtaking her face for a brief moment, gone so quickly that Percyalmostmissed it.

"Oh… just a messenger." She said dismissively, the soft smile returning to her face. "How do you feel?"

Percy frowned, not missing the quick change in subject. "How long have I been out?" he asked instead of prodding.

Calypso hummed "Time," she said, "time is always difficult here. I honestly don't know, Percy."

"You know my name?" Percy asked uneasily, hand slipping over to where Riptide lay in his pocket.

"You talk in you're sleep." She explained with a laugh that sounded like tinkling bells.

Percy felt his face heat up,ugh, first drooling now talking? "Yeah… I've been, uh, told that before."

"Yes." The goddess laughed again. "Who is Annabeth?" she asked, an odd tone to her soft voice. Percy frowned, fiddling with the drawstrings of his pants.

"Oh, uh, a friend. We were together when…" he trailed off, running his fingertips over the rough, healed padding of the scars around his wrist.

"Wait- how did I get here? Where are we?" He asked urgently, looking around again. He wasn't in Washington anymore,thatwasfor sure.

Calypso sighed again, taking a step forward to run her fingers through his ruined hair. Percy grimaced uncomfortably, stepping away from her reach.

The smile on her face dropped and she retreated her hand, cradling it to her chest as if it'd been burnt. Percy almost felt bad. "I'm sorry," she said, "I've just grown so used to caring for you. As to how you got here? You fell from the sky," she laughed, the smile returning to her face.

"Like a gift from the gods," she said wistfully before continuing, "You landed in the water just over there." she pointed across the beach.

"I don't know how you survived but the water seemed to protect you, it must have cushioned the fall. As to where you are, you are in Ogygia."

"Is that near Mt saint hellens?" Percy asked hopefully, who knows?Maybethere were plenty of tropical islands around Washington, Percy never claimed to begoodat geography.

Calypso laughed again, hiding her mouth behind her hand like she was trying not to embarrass him. "It's not nearanywhere, brave one," she said as if it was common knowledge.

"Ogygia is my phantom island. it exists by itself, anywhere and nowhere, you can heal here in safety, never fear." She assured and Percy frowned. There was just something about the way she spoke…

!ed with a laugh that sounded like tinkling bells.