Hera was quite proud of herself.
This was not unordinary. Frankly, she believed she deserved some sort of award for simply not murdering half of her fellow council members in their cribs. Oh, she tried with some. Herakles was not the first to thwart her snakes. But Dionysus remained breathing, did he not?
The occasion that called for such jubilation was the simple fact that she had not followed through on her promise to Percy Jackson. She had not visited him in ages, nearly a full month. Not "soon" at all, she thinks with satisfaction.
She thought of him, of course. She had given up any hope of being completely rid of him. His soft words and gentle eyes had invaded his way into her very dreams. Like a parasite.
Maybe…, she thought with abject horror. Maybe he had done something to her. Perhaps the energy she had felt flux between them when he had grabbed her hand was a spell or a curse. Hera herself was unfamiliar with Sea Magic, as were most denizens of Olympus.
But wouldn't any sort of sorcery be less… gradual? She could not honestly say that these thoughts of Percy Jackson were unfamiliar to her, and they had not been for some time. Petrifyingly enough, she was quite intimately accustomed to them.
And some of her thoughts were most intimate.
Revelation burns bright in her mind. Those thoughts were certainly new.
"Plague." She says aloud to herself. "Devilry." She affirms a second later. Yes, that must be it.
Well, Hera could not possibly let such a thing stand. Percy Jackson had bewitched her, in his own lovely, awful way. But any spell could be undone. And it was fortuitous that she had an expert on Sea Magic close at hand.
She would pay a visit to her brother, then. He would undo his son's work, and then Percy Jackson would die.
Laughing to herself, she sets on her way. Honestly, she could be rather dense, couldn't she? The explanation to her woes were staring her right in the face all this time. It made perfect sense.
Hera laughs again. As if she would ever be attracted to Percy Jackson.
Not every member of the Olympian council resided on Olympus. Demeter had her little cottage somewhere in Montana, Artemis was constantly on the move and Aphrodite preferred Paris. Which left Hera alone with, to her undying irritation, Zeus' immortal stains on their marriage.
Council members were, however, required to spend a designated amount of time within the city, and so they were given offices. No one was to remain unreachable in the case of an emergency, and such an occurrence seemed all the more likely as Percy Jackson continued to breathe.
Luckily enough, right now was during that designated period of time. And so she raps her knuckles against the bronze seashell knocker on Poseidon's door. "Brother?" She pushes the door ajar to find the sea god hunched over his desk, peering at a document.
He looks up to her with surprise, evidently not hearing her entrance. "Ah, Hera. How are you?" He smiles at her in a way that very few do, his son among them. It's inviting, warm and promises no judgement. Lovely, it's really quite lovely how Percy Jackson smiles at her, so unabashedly himself and-
And it's revolting and she hates him for what he has done to her and he will not ruin his father's smile for her, no matter what.
"Better than you, it seems." She responds, coming out of her own daze. His table is cluttered, papers flaring wildly across the surface with various heavy tomes bookmarked in a stack.
Poseidon drags a hand over his face. "I've no doubt about that." He leans back in his chair. "It seems our brother forgets that he is not the only one with a kingdom to run."
"What has he drawn you into now?" She frowns, well aware of his and Zeus' past disputes.
"Well, among Triton's invasions against Oceanus' rebel forces, riots in the agora and our ongoing economic crisis, Zeus has decided that our tariff agreement is no longer very agreeable at all." He says tiredly, and his words make Hera suddenly realize that her brother has been here for far longer than he is required.
"How long have you been here?" She asks, already knowing she won't like the answer.
"Oh, some forty hours or so. But you're a welcome distraction." He waves her closer to him. "What can I help you with, sister?"
"Bold of you to assume I need help." She says with a teasing smile.
"I have known you for a very long time, Hera. Long enough to know that you very rarely make social calls." He smiles back, and she finds that she has missed her brother. If only he weren't right.
"I-" She swipes her tongue across her lips, unsure of how to put her words. "I find myself needing someone of your unique talents."
"Definitely not a social call, then." Poseidon smirks. "I'm afraid you'll have to be more specific. I'm quite well-rounded, if I do say so myself."
"I seem to have encountered someone proficient in Sea Magic." She says, his humor unable to erase her embarrassment. "I fear they have… ensnared me."
"Hmm." Poseidon murmurs as his eyes shine an icy blue, looking her up and down. "You wouldn't happen to be referring to my son, would you?"
Reality breaks into a million little pieces, twisting themselves around her to bind her in place. "I- I-" She stutters, her mind reeling. "I-" No one was supposed to know. No one was supposed to know.
"Because then let me put your mind at ease, sister." His eyes return to their natural hue, but they may as well be shards of ice aimed directly toward her. "You are under no such enchantment."
The door is two feet behind her, but Posiedon is faster than most think, and more than adept in tracking her if she were to vanish. Trapped. Completely. "I didn't- I mean, I didn't mean to infer-"
"Sure you did," Her brother says, not unkindly, she thinks, but not enough to set her at ease. "Because you visit him. Consistently."
"How?" She asks, mortified. No one was supposed to know. "He told you. I knew he couldn't be trusted! I knew-"
"Percy knows nothing." He interrupts her again, crossing his arms as he shifts in his chair. "I know because I love my son."
"I'm sure he would like to hear that. It's not as if you ever see him." Hera snips tersely, defensively. Her natural combativeness was showing its face at the worst time.
Poseidon's eyes darken. "I watch over him. I love my son. From afar. As we all do." His frown turns sorrowful. "But I would not expect you to understand, nor would I fault you for it."
"What do you want?" She takes a step back, prepared to try to make her escape, even if she knows she'll be caught. "I have done nothing wrong."
"I never said that you did." He shifts again, crossing one leg over the other. "I just wanted to- Hera, stop that!" Her slow paces backward come to a screeching halt. Poseidon takes a deep sigh. "Thousands of years, and your first instinct to conflict is still to just run."
"I do not run. Not from you, not from anything." She says confidently.
"Only because you've been favoring your second instinct of total annihilation as of late. I know you, Hera." He shoots back, though somehow he remains calm.
"And I know you, Poseidon." She says, desperate to turn this conversation into anything but a discussion of her and Percy Jackson. "Tell me, do you still fear the dark? Do your knees still shake when you feel a shift in the earth, remembering how father would turn in his sleep and send you hurtling into his intestines?"
"I shift the earth." Poseidon snarls, and she feels herself beginning to gain ground. "Evoking bad memories of father will not let you escape this dialogue."
"Can you still smell the acidity in the air sometimes?" She continues, ignoring him. "Choking you, wrapping its acrid limbs around your body? Can you even bear the stench of lamb anymore? Does it remind you too much of father's banquets?"
"Cease this." Poseidon hisses. "Now."
But Hera cannot, even if she wanted to. "Do you still wake up in the middle of the night, covered in a cold sweat and shivering?" She whispers, the crooked smile on her face curling without a thought. "Having dreamt of drowning after father swallows another flagon of wine?"
"ENOUGH!" Poseidon shouts, holding out a hand. And then Hera finds that she can't move. More than that, she can't even blink. She tries to scream, but her mouth will not move. Her brother twists his hand towards his body, and Hera floats, just inches off the floor, closer to him.
It feels as if millions of tiny hooks are inside her, attached to invisible strings that hoist her higher. It is a kind of pain that she has never felt before. Every orifice, every pore oozes rebellion, her body no longer her own.
Poseidon drags her into an open chair across from him, dropping her gently. "You will sit, you will shut up and you will listen, you little nightmare of a woman." He seethes at her before taking a deep breath.
I am a goddess, she tries to say, but it seems her brother has quite literally taken back control of the conversation.
"Now," Poseidon takes another breath. "I did not intend to accuse you of anything, nor did I wish to start a fight. But I love my son, Hera, and so I must ask you what your intentions are with him."
Her mouth slackens, control of that part of her body given back, though she still cannot move her arms or legs. "I do not intend to do anything with him. I never planned on- On ever seeing him this much." And that much is true.
Her words only seem to sadden her brother. "Yes," He murmurs. "I'm afraid that is always how it starts."
"How what always starts?" Hera feels her pulse begin to quicken and she knows Poseidon feels it too.
"Don't be naive, Hera." Poseidon all but pleads with her. "Perhaps this is your own first experience, but you've been surrounded by other gods too long not to recognize it."
Realization dawns on her. "Oh." She says simply. "Oh."
Poseidon nods, a morose smile on his face. "A bit worse than a touch of Sea Magic, isn't it?"
"No." And she tries to shake her head as hard as she can, but her neck plants firmly in Poseidon's direction. "No. I would never- And certainly not with him- This is- This is ludacris, brother. It cannot be."
He shakes his head. "I might've once thought that, with your domains, you were simply immune to our godly… proclivities. But you still are a goddess, and more than that a neglected wife. It's not very hard to believe, is it?"
"It is blasphemy." She whispers. "Heresy of the highest order." Hera stares deep in her brother's eyes. "You must kill me. This must not happen, it cannot."
"Well," Poseidon looks shaken. "It's- It's really not as bad as it seems."
"Of course." She would slap a hand across her face under normal circumstances. The solution was obvious. "We have to kill him."
"No!" Poseidon yells. "Hera, it's- It's not a- A bad thing to have these feelings. I'm sure it must be confusing, but it's truly not so awful."
"Millions of years living, centuries of worship and sacrifices and gifts, never once have I- Have I felt this for someone other than Zeus." Hera says to herself. "This want, this craving, this madness." She wishes the universe would swallow her whole. "And all it took was for him to lend an ear and send me a smile."
Poseidon looks pityingly at her. "I always knew Percy would be special. But the prophecy never stated he would be this special."
"This has nothing to do with prophecy." She says. "And he's not special, not really. He's just- He's just…" She struggles to find the words.
"He's just Percy." Poseidon finishes knowingly. "And Percy is so much like Sally. No, the more we speak of this, I find I am not very surprised at this development at all."
"Then when you said that's always how it starts…?" She prods.
"I never intended to have Percy, never intended to see Sally again, let alone stay with her for a whole summer." He answers. "But you understand now, I think, that our intentions mean very little when confronted with something that we truly want."
"Did she charm you like this?" She says suddenly. "His mother? Did she say all the right words at the right time until every word became right and the time was always right?"
"Something like that." He responds.
Her body is finally her own again, and she stares down at the floor. "What do I do?" She whispers desperately.
Poseidon reaches across the table and grabs one of her hands, and she understands where his son got that particular move. "I wish I could say that you had a choice. You do, to some extent. But you cannot just ignore it." He stares at her with his son's eyes- No! They were his first and she must not forget that. "You cannot run, Hera. Not from this."
"Stop saying that." She snaps.
"Where were you when the Titans attacked?" Poseidon says sharply. "Were you with us, your siblings, fighting for our lives and freedom?" He glares at her. "Or were you in a cave somewhere in Argos, curled in a ball while we finished the job?"
"I do not like fighting."
"And I did not like slaughtering our father, aunts, uncles and cousins but sometimes, we do the things that we must do." He drives a stake in her heart with his words, his truthful words.
"What is your point?" Hera growls.
"That you will not be given that chance to run with this. I will not give you that chance." He grips her hand hard. "You will go to my son and you will end this or you will continue it. You will not vanish and appear in his life on your own whims. He deserves better than that."
"You want me to continue with him?" She says with tangible shock.
"I want you to be happy, Hera." Poseidon's grip slackens. "And if my son makes you happy, then so be it. I have watched my older sister, once so quick with a smile or a joke, be crushed down into nothing but a ball of anger and rage." He smiles sadly at her. "I want better for you."
"You speak of treason." She accuses him.
"I speak of nothing more than what your husband does every day." And he kills her with that, her pride and her theatrics vanquished.
"I don't even like him." She says, mostly to herself. And she doesn't. He's messy and his hair never stays down and his room is just filthy. He treats her like she's only human, like she's nothing more than just another person in his life. "I might even hate him."
"You hate what you don't understand." Poseidon says knowingly. "And you don't understand him because you haven't been letting yourself do so."
"It- It seems I have a decision to make." She says, slightly crazed.
"It seems you do." Poseidon says, equally as unsettled.
She stands shakily, getting used to her limbs once more. "I- I thank you for your wise counsel, brother. You have been most helpful." She nods at him and steps toward the exit.
"Hera." She turns back to her brother. "Whatever decision you come to, please, be gentle with him." Poseidon's eyes beg more than even his words do. "I- I fear that Percy is kind, too kind for this world we live in. I fear that he is inclined to withstand even the worst of punishments if he feels he might be able to help someone. He gets it from his mother." He says as if that explains everything.
"I will do my best." She says quickly, needing to leave this place immediately.
"That is all I can ask, I suppose." He says before she can close the door. She stands frozen in the hallway, her ichor burning her from the inside.
Hera had something she needed to do.
Perseus pushes through the door of his cabin, hair frizzy and clothes caked with mud. He notices her instantly and sends a tired smile to her. "Hey. I just had the worst day. I dropped the lake on Thalia and then she threw a lightning bolt at me-"
"I hate you." She says with no small amount of satisfaction.
"Yeah, I guess that's in line with how this day's going." He mumbles.
"I hate you." She says again, and it feels glorious. "I hate you more than I've ever hated anything."
"What happened?" He trudges toward his bed, unbothered by her insults.
"Shut up." She snaps. "You are nothing. A speck of dust in the cosmos, a mockery of life. I hate you."
"Okay," He says simply as he sits. "What happened?"
"I wish you were dead." She steps closer to him. "I wish the stars themselves would fall down to blot you out of existence. I wish the earth would burn to rid itself of your taint on it. Your continuance is Hell." He stares at her, expressionless, as she towers over him.
"What," He says, drawing out every syllable. "Happened, Hera."
She grabs him by his shirt and pulls him up to her. "You did." She snarls. "You were born and now nothing is right."
"I am so confused right now." He murmurs. Their lips are close again, possibly closer than ever before, though he does not dare close the distance.
"You're confused?" She whispers, outraged. "I'm confused, you miserable little wretch! You are-" She slaps her hands on his chest before regaining her grip. He's firm. "You are awful, and so, so infuriating."
"Where is this going?" And it seems he's grown bolder, as he leans a bit closer.
"Where do you think this is going?" She asks, partly curious and partly furious because he's making her drag this out for so long.
"I don't think you want me to answer that." He says breathlessly.
She presses her forehead against his, touching their noses together. "I quite think I would, Perseus."
"Percy." He corrects quickly before that terrible, yearning look in his eyes returns. "Maybe," He murmurs, coming even closer. "It's going somewhere like this…" He presses his lips to hers.
He truly is Hell personified, as deep tendrils of flame wrap themselves around her. It is painfully, sickeningly wonderful, the feeling of his body pressing against hers. But her instincts kick in before she can pull him closer, and so she slaps him sharply across the face.
"Wha-?" He stares at her bewildered as he stumbles back onto his bed.
"Sorry." She mumbles, and she cannot believe that she is actually apologizing to him. Does he even know what a privilege this is? She decides not to dwell on it and pulls him back to her. "Not used to this." She says before crashing back into him.
She cannot say for certain how much time they spend there, in a simple embrace with their lips together, but she would not be surprised if years had passed when she finally breaks away.
"I have to go now." She says, trailing her hands down his arms and squeezing his hands at the end. "I just- Well, I- I thought I ought to do something about all this."
"You did something, alright." He says- Percy says, she corrects in her mind. He looks dazed, completely mesmerized by her.
It is not a bad feeling to be looked at like that.
"Yes, well," And she thinks that no one has ever made her stumble over her words as much as he does. "I thought that showing you might be better than telling you."
"I am… not complaining." He says, playing with one of her fingers. "But that whole thing about you hating me and wishing the stars would crush me to death?"
"I was simply telling you I wished to continue this."
"Yeah, that's definitely the message I got." He mumbles to himself.
She smiles slightly, despite herself and despite this mess that she has gotten herself in. "I'll see you shortly." She promises, squeezing his hands once more before stepping back.
"Bye." He says, smiling crookedly at her.
"Goodbye, Percy." She says before she vanishes.
And so it was done.