Chapter 9: Thalia Grace

Reviews:

Gamelover41592: Thank you and I hope you're ready for Jaune to have some dad moments!

GeneralSparda: I believed that it would have been an interesting way for the PJOverse to go if it turned out the Greek gods would be replaced by their own kids which would make Zeus very paranoid and history repeating itself for a 3rd and possibly final time with the kids destined to replacing their parents realizing their mistakes and flaws and trying to be way better then their godly parents.

Monster King: Thank you and here's the next chapter!

X3runner: Jaune replacing Kronos is a possibility~! But he also might be replacing another God or Goddess~!

Pedro Alonso Buby Huayanay Zam: Jaune's for sure gonna be acting and being a dad to some of the campers whose certain godly parents show little interest in them, and with that, some other Demigods along with most of the Major cast will get some character development.

Glmo11: Yes, but he's fine with it being gone with it since he just used it to kill Penny, so he doesn't want to wield it at the moment.

The Project Artemis: Ah, no worries, man, always good to have someone translate things in case I get too lazy to do so or forget!

A/N:

Whew! Sorry for the long wait! But I'm back! I know it took me forever, but I just had to make sure this Chapter was what I wanted it to be and so I kept making sure I liked it and that everything made sense for what was going to happen between Jaune and Thalia

I will admit, that updates for this story might be a little slow around these chapters focusing on Jaune building relationships with the campers because I wanna make sure that they make sense.

Anyway, thank you all for waiting and I'm glad this story has made it to 2025! But enough of my yapping, get to the reading, otherwise, why else are you here!? I know it's not listening to me talk!

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Thalia barely had time to react as Clarisse's fist slammed into her right cheek, the impact forcing her to stagger to the left. She stumbled, her boots scuffing against the training ground as she fought to steady herself. Shaking off the ringing in her ears, Thalia straightened her posture, her piercing blue eyes locking onto Clarisse with a fiery determination.

"Come on, Grace! That all you got?" Clarisse taunted, her voice dripping with amusement. She rolled her shoulders, her smirk widening as she casually cracked her knuckles. "I thought you were supposed to be tougher than this!"

Thalia wiped the corner of her mouth with the back of her hand, feeling the faint sting of the punch but refusing to give Clarisse the satisfaction of seeing her falter. Her jaw tightened as she balled her fists, a spark of lightning briefly flickering in her eyes, betraying her desire to retaliate with more than just her hands.

She took a deep breath, forcing herself to remain grounded. Jaune's instructions rang in her mind like a bell:

"No weapons, no powers—just fists,"

The thought of disappointing him—or worse, giving Clarisse any ammunition to mock her later—steeled her resolve.

"Alright, you asked for it," Thalia growled, her voice low and laced with grit. She shifted her weight onto the balls of her feet, falling into a ready stance. The daughter of Zeus was more accustomed to wielding her spear or summoning storms, but this was a new battlefield, one where she needed to prove her worth.

Clarisse, ever the embodiment of Ares' ruthless confidence, held her ground with an easy grin, clearly relishing the challenge. The sunlight glinted off the sweat beading on her forehead, a testament to the intensity of their sparring session. She was in her element, and Thalia knew she had to match her or risk humiliation.

The training arena buzzed with faint activity in the background, but all Thalia could focus on was her opponent. Every muscle in her body tensed as she analyzed Clarisse's stance, her breathing, the way her hands flexed in anticipation of the next exchange.

This wasn't just about learning to fight—it was about proving to herself that she could hold her own, even against someone as battle-hardened as the daughter of Ares.

With a sharp exhale, Thalia surged forward, determined to land the next blow and wipe that smug grin off Clarisse's face.

Thalia surged forward, her boots kicking up dust as she threw a quick left jab aimed at Clarisse's face. The daughter of Ares, however, was faster. With a swift tilt of her head, she avoided the punch, her movements fluid and precise. Before Thalia could recover, Clarisse ducked low under her extended arm and retaliated with a sharp punch to Thalia's left side.

The impact forced a yelp from Thalia, the pain radiating through her ribs as she stumbled back a step. She winced but quickly steadied herself, her hands instinctively moving to guard her face and torso.

Clarisse straightened, a confident grin spreading across her face. "Come on, Grace," she teased, her tone practically daring. "You're gonna have to do better than that!"

Thalia's jaw tightened. She was determined not to let Clarisse get the better of her. Spinning on her heel, she faced her opponent once more, her fists raised and ready. Without hesitation, she lunged forward again, this time aiming a wide right hook at Clarisse's head.

But Clarisse was prepared. With her left forearm, she blocked the attack, the force of the blow reverberating between them. Taking advantage of Thalia's overextension, Clarisse drove a right jab into her stomach. The air was knocked from Thalia's lungs, and before she could recover, Clarisse followed up with a sharp punch to her face.

The blow sent Thalia stumbling backward, her boots scraping against the dirt, before she lost her balance entirely and fell hard onto the ground. Her palms caught her fall, stinging as they scraped against the rough surface. She let out a loud, painful groan, her head pounding from the relentless assault.

Clarisse crossed her arms, looking down at her with a mix of amusement and tough-love instruction. "You need to be ready to defend or dodge when one of your attacks gets blocked or dodged," she said, her tone matter-of-fact. "And if you can't? You better learn how to take a punch without falling apart,"

Thalia sat up slowly, pressing her hand against her aching ribs. She wiped at the blood trickling from her nose with the back of her hand, glaring up at Clarisse. "Oh yeah? Is that why you're beating the crap outta me?" she snapped, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

Clarisse smirked, clearly unbothered by the jab. "Sorta," she replied with a shrug. "But you also need to learn to take advantage of your size, you're quick, but you fight like someone twice your weight," She cocked her head, an almost curious look crossing her face. "Why do you use a spear anyway?"

Thalia blinked at the question, caught off guard. "What's that got to do with anything?"

Clarisse crouched slightly, leveling her gaze with Thalia's. "Everything," she said firmly. "The spear works for you because it's all about precision and distance, you're not gonna overpower someone like me in a straight brawl, but you don't need to, you're faster, leaner—use it,"

Thalia frowned, her mind racing as she processed Clarisse's words. She hated to admit it, but the daughter of Ares had a point.

Clarisse tilted her head, raising a brow as she spoke. "We both fight with spears, sure, but tell me this—what happens once you throw your spear and miss? Or even if you hit your target? What do you do then?"

Thalia crossed her arms, frowning slightly as she thought about it. "You have a secondary weapon," she answered after a moment, her voice confident.

"Exactly," Clarisse replied with a nod, her tone carrying the air of a teacher guiding her student to a hard truth. "I always have a backup—a dagger, a sword, something, but you? You don't," She gestured to Thalia with a sweeping motion.

Thalia frowned, defensiveness creeping into her voice. "I'm fine with a sword or a dagger,"

Clarisse let out an exaggerated sigh and rolled her eyes, the way one might at an especially stubborn student. "Sure, Grace, but let me ask you this—when was the last time you actually carried one into battle? Never, right? So what's the plan when you're empty-handed? Wrestle someone for their weapon mid-fight?" she teased, her smirk growing.

Thalia opened her mouth to respond, but the words died on her tongue as the weight of Clarisse's point hit her. Her eyes widened slightly, realization dawning. She wasn't prepared for that scenario, and she hated to admit it.

Seeing Thalia's expression, Clarisse chuckled, the sound laced with a mix of amusement and triumph. "Exactly, which is why you need to know how to fight with your hands, you need to know how to disarm an enemy, how to use their weapon against them, and how to keep fighting even if you've got nothing but your fists and your powers, because let's face it, Grace—there'll come a time when you don't have anything else,"

Thalia's mind worked over Clarisse's words. She hated being caught unprepared, but the blunt honesty made sense. "So right now, you're just teaching me how to fight without relying on anything else, huh?" she asked, her voice quieter but filled with understanding.

"Bingo," Clarisse said with a grin, pointing at her like she'd just won a prize. "Once you've got a decent grasp of fighting with your fists, we'll move on to the fun part, disarming your opponents," Clarisse said with a sharp grin, her tone filled with a mix of promise and challenge,

Thalia raised a brow, brushing some stray strands of hair from her face as she caught her breath. "Disarm them? Like, just take their weapon?"

Clarisse let out a low chuckle, the kind that sent a shiver of anticipation through anyone who knew her. "Not just take it," she clarified, her voice carrying a certain edge. "I mean, you make them regret ever thinking they could hold onto it in the first place! Disarming someone isn't just about grabbing their weapon—it's about turning their strength into their weakness, you leave them empty-handed and off-balance while you're ready to strike,"

Thalia tilted her head, still skeptical. "And you think I can just... what, snatch a sword or an axe out of someone's hands mid-fight?"

Clarisse smirked, rolling her shoulders in a relaxed shrug. "With practice, yeah, you're fast, Grace, and speed's your greatest asset, pair that with technique, and you'll be surprised what you can pull off! The trick isn't just going for the weapon—it's knowing when and how to strike, timing is everything,"

Thalia crossed her arms, eyeing her with suspicion. "And let me guess—you're gonna make me practice that by trying to disarm you, aren't you?"

Clarisse grinned, her eyes glinting with mischief. "Oh, you bet! And don't think I'll go easy on you, either, if you can get past me, you can get past just about anyone,"

Thalia let out a small laugh, shaking her head. "Great... Looking forward to getting my ass handed to me even more,"

"You'll thank me later," Clarisse said with a smirk.

Thalia rolled her eyes, a mix of frustration and determination flickering across her face as she pushed herself back to her feet. Dusting off her hands and brushing dirt from her pants, she looked at Clarisse with a resigned nod. "Alright, fine, let's do this," she said, her tone laced with resolve.

Clarisse's grin widened into something almost predatory, her sharp teeth on full display. "That's the spirit," she said, planting her feet firmly on the ground and raising her fists. "But don't think I'm gonna let you skip ahead, first things first—let's see if you can actually land a clean punch, Grace, you're still not done with step one,"

Thalia groaned loudly, throwing her head back in exaggerated annoyance. "Ugh, you're like a broken record," she muttered under her breath, though she didn't hesitate to drop back into her fighting stance. She flexed her fingers before curling them into fists, shaking out her shoulders as she prepared for yet another round. "You're enjoying this way too much, you know?"

Clarisse chuckled, the sound deep and filled with amusement. She bounced lightly on the balls of her feet, her confidence radiating from every movement. "Damn right I am," she shot back, her grin widening even further. "Now stop whining and come at me!"

Thalia smirked despite herself, narrowing her eyes as she focused on Clarisse. "Alright, but don't say I didn't warn you," she said, channeling the frustration into her stance as she readied her next move.

As the day wound down and the intense sparring session between Thalia and Clarisse came to an end, the two parted ways, heading back toward their respective cabins. Thalia, drenched in sweat and her knuckles still aching from Clarisse's relentless punches, allowed herself a moment to take in the surroundings as she walked. The sun dipped lower on the horizon, painting the camp in soft orange and pink hues.

As her eyes scanned the campgrounds, she noticed Penny again. The ginger-haired girl was seated near the edge of the woods, surrounded by wood nymphs. Laughter echoed faintly through the air as Penny twirled in carefree circles, her dress billowing around her as if it had been designed to follow her every move. Thalia almost assumed, for a fleeting moment, that Penny was one of them—a nymph born of the forest's magic, so naturally did she blend with the woodland beings.

But what really caught Thalia's attention wasn't Penny. It was Jaune.

Standing a good distance away, his back pressed lightly against the trunk of an old oak tree, Jaune watched Penny with a small, bittersweet smile on his face. His posture was relaxed, but his gaze spoke volumes. It wasn't just protective—it was pained, almost haunted, as if the scene before him was both a source of comfort and a reminder of something he couldn't forget.

Thalia slowed her pace, her brows furrowing slightly as she observed him. She had always found Jaune's presence at camp a little... mysterious. He seemed nice enough, even likable in his own awkward way, but there was a weight he carried—a burden she couldn't quite put her finger on.

Watching him now, the same nagging questions began to bubble to the surface of her mind.

Why did he care so much about Penny? Why was he so protective of her?

And, most importantly, what exactly had happened to her?

Thalia's memories flashed back to the day they found Penny. She had been so happy and estatic at seeing Jaune that she quickly clung to him, as if he was some sort of anchor that grounded her, as of he was the one visible thing in nothing but dense fog. Thalia could feel the tension radiating from Jaune when they stumbled upon her. The guilt in his eyes had been unmistakable, and Thalia could swear she had felt it—the crackling, raw energy of his regret, like a storm brewing just beneath the surface.

He blamed himself.

She knew that much.

But why?

The thought wouldn't leave her alone, no matter how many times she pushed it away. Did Jaune do this to her? Was he the one responsible for whatever had happened to Penny that left her in this state? And if so, why? What had he done—or failed to do—that had caused such a dramatic shift in the girl now dancing so joyfully with the nymphs?

The questions swirled in her mind like a relentless storm, refusing to dissipate.

Thalia tightened her grip on her jacket and glanced back toward Jaune. His head tilted slightly, his expression softening as he saw Penny laugh at something one of the nymphs had said. There it was again—that small smile, tinged with sadness.

Enough.

She'd had enough of not knowing. Whatever secrets Jaune and Penny were keeping—or whatever secrets Jaune was keeping from Penny—she was going to find out.

Thalia turned on her heel, her determination sharpening into resolve. This wasn't just idle curiosity anymore; it felt like something she needed to know. Whatever had happened between Jaune and Penny, it was clearly eating at him. She wanted answers—answers about Penny, about Jaune, and about the weight they both carried.

And tonight, she was going to get them.

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The night air was cool and crisp, with stars twinkling faintly in the dark expanse above Camp Half-Blood. The arena was quiet, save for the faint rustle of leaves in the distance and the occasional crackle of torches illuminating the sparring grounds. It was early in the night—7, maybe 8, Jaune guessed.

Under the soft glow of the moon, Jaune moved with precision, his blade cutting through the cool night air in swift, practiced arcs. His muscles tensed and relaxed in rhythmic succession, each swing of his sword followed by a calculated block, as if he were fighting an invisible enemy. His breaths were controlled, his footwork steady—experience and instinct guiding his movements.

The quiet solitude of his training was soon broken by a familiar voice, laced with its usual sharpness and amusement.

"Ya know... the air can't fight back,"

Jaune smirked mid-motion, the comment pulling him from his focus. He turned to find Thalia standing at the edge of the clearing, her hands stuffed into the pockets of her worn leather jacket. Her smirk mirrored his, her electric-blue eyes gleaming under the moonlight.

"You volunteering to be my sparring partner?" Jaune teased, twirling his sword once before casually shifting it back into the form of a pen. With a quick tap, his shield followed suit, retracting back into the bracelet on his wrist.

Thalia snorted, shaking her head without hesitation. "Hell no, I've already had my ass handed to me enough for one day, thanks," she said, rolling her shoulders as if still feeling the remnants of her earlier training session.

Jaune chuckled, running a hand through his messy blonde hair. "Fair enough," he admitted. "How's training with Clarisse going?"

Thalia let out a groan, tilting her head back dramatically. "As well as it can when your opponent is a literal child of a war god who enjoys knocking you on your ass every five seconds," she said.

Jaune smirked. "Sounds about right, at least you're getting stronger,"

"Or concussed," Thalia muttered before shaking her head. "But enough about my suffering, what about you? What are you doing out here this late?"

Jaune shrugged, glancing briefly at the big house before looking back at her. "Needed to clear my head, training helps,"

Thalia hummed in response.

"You?" He asked her.

Thalia's smirk faded as her expression turned more serious. "Actually... I was looking for you," she admitted.

Jaune arched a brow. "Oh?"

She took a deep breath, her body straightening as she locked eyes with him. There was no more teasing in her voice, only determination. "I wanted to talk to you... About what happened before you ended up here, about Penny,"

Jaune stiffened.

His grip on the pen tightened slightly, his fingers instinctively clenching before he forced himself to relax. His usually easy-going expression faltered, replaced by something more guarded. He held Thalia's gaze, searching for any sign of insincerity, but all he saw was genuine curiosity—mixed with something else. Concern? Frustration?

For a long moment, he said nothing. The night stretched between them, heavy with unspoken thoughts.

Finally, Jaune let out a slow breath. "...You're not gonna let this go, are you?"

Thalia crossed her arms. "Nope," she said firmly. "Not until I get some answers,"

Jaune sighed, rubbing the back of his neck as he looked away. "Alright," he muttered. "Let's talk,"

The two walked in silence toward a nearby bench, the only sound between them the distant crackling of a small campfire. The flames flickered lazily, casting their warm glow against the cool night air. Shadows danced across the ground, stretching and shifting as the firelight wavered. Jaune sat down first, exhaling slowly as he rested his forearms on his knees. Thalia followed suit, crossing one leg over the other as she studied him.

For a moment, neither spoke. The weight of the conversation loomed between them, unspoken but heavy.

Jaune finally turned his head toward Thalia, his cobalt eyes reflecting the firelight. "Alright," he said, his voice quieter than before. "What exactly do you want to know?"

Thalia didn't hesitate. She met his gaze head-on, her expression firm yet questioning. "What happened to you and Penny before you fell from the sky? Before you ended up in our world?"

Jaune's shoulders tensed slightly at the question. He expected it, but that didn't make answering any easier. He let out a long sigh, running a hand through his hair before looking toward the fire. "Before Penny and I ended up here... we were in a battle," he started, his voice carrying a weight that made Thalia sit up a little straighter. "It was me, Penny, and some of our friends, we were up against two dangerous women, one of them named Cinder Fall,"

Thalia frowned. "What did she want?"

Jaune's jaw tightened. "She wanted the Staff of Creation—one of four relics that hold incredible power in our world, but more than that... she wanted Penny's power,"

"Her power?" Thalia echoed.

Jaune nodded. "At the time, Penny had the abilities of the Winter Maiden—real magic, That's something that shouldn't exist in my world, no one is supposed to be able to use magic anymore, but Maidens are an exception," he replied before continuing retelling the events. "During the fight, things got... bad, Three of my friends—Yang, Ruby, and Blake—fell into the void, and another girl, Neo, fell too, but that was because Cinder betrayed her,"

Thalia's brows shot up in surprise. "Wait, so it wasn't just you and Penny who fell out of your world?"

Jaune shook his head. "There were others,"

Thalia leaned forward, her mind racing. "Then... does that mean they could be here too?"

Jaune exhaled through his nose, his grip tightening over his knees. "I don't think so," he admitted. "If they were, I think Hestia or Rhea would've said something by now,"

Thalia bit the inside of her cheek, trying to imagine what it would be like to suddenly lose half her friends to a void, not knowing where they landed—if they landed at all. That was a kind of pain she didn't think she could stomach. But as she glanced at Jaune's expression, she realized he wasn't just recalling that moment. He was reliving it.

After a beat, Jaune continued, his voice lower. "After they fell, it was just me, Penny, and Weiss against Cinder, and we were losing," His hand curled into a fist as he spoke. "Cinder managed to wound Penny badly, and I—I tried to heal her, I tried to fix it, but Penny..."

He trailed off, his throat working against an unseen lump.

Thalia's expression softened. "She wouldn't let you, would she?"

Jaune shook his head. "No... She refused, she knew time was running out, that Cinder would come for her again if she survived, so instead of letting me heal her..." He swallowed hard, his breath growing unsteady. "She asked me to do something else,"

Thalia watched him carefully, noting the way his hands clenched, the way his whole body seemed to shrink under the weight of his own words. She didn't press him, but he knew the question was still there.

Jaune closed his eyes briefly before forcing himself to continue. "She asked me... to end her life,"

Silence.

Thalia's breath hitched slightly, and for the first time, she didn't have a response ready.

Jaune let out a shaky exhale. "She didn't want Cinder to take her powers, If she died on her own terms while thinking of someone, the magic would go to someone Penny trusted—someone Cinder couldn't control, but if Cinder got to her first, the power would be hers, Penny knew that," His voice wavered, but he pushed through it. "She made her choice... and I carried it out..."

Thalia's hands gripped the edge of the bench. She had expected something tragic, but this? This was something else entirely.

Jaune's laugh was quiet, but hollow. "I keep telling myself it was the right thing to do, that it was what she wanted, but no matter how much I try to justify it, it doesn't change the fact that I..." He hesitated, then shook his head. "It doesn't change what I did,"

Thalia swallowed, her throat dry. "Jaune..."

He finally turned to look at her, and for the first time since this conversation started, he looked tired. Not physically, but soul-tired. The kind of exhaustion that sleep couldn't fix.

"I can't ever forgive myself for it," he admitted softly. "No matter what anyone says... I was the one who held the sword, I was the one who—" He stopped himself, shaking his head. "Doesn't matter... It happened. And now, Penny's here, but she's... not the same. And I don't know if that's a good thing or just another punishment for what I did."

The fire crackled between them, but neither moved. Thalia's mind was spinning, trying to process the weight of what she had just learned.

And for the first time, she realized that Jaune Arc wasn't just some skilled warrior who fell into their world.

He was a man carrying a ghost.

Just like she was.

Thalia swallowed hard, her throat tightening as the weight of memory pressed against her chest. She sat stiffly on the bench, her hands clenched into fists on her lap. The words felt like shards of glass in her throat, but she forced them out anyway.

"I... I lost my brother," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.

Jaune turned to her, his expression shifting from quiet contemplation to concern. His brows furrowed slightly, confusion flickering in his cobalt eyes.

Thalia let out a shaky breath, willing herself to keep going. "It was 1996, I was nine, and my baby brother, Jason, was only two," She bit her lip, staring into the fire as if she could see the past within its flames. "Our mom... she wasn't exactly the best, But that day—just that one day—she actually tried, she took us on a picnic, it was one of the only times she actually felt like a mom,"

Jaune stayed quiet, letting her speak.

Thalia's hands trembled slightly as she continued. "At some point, I ran back to the car to grab the picnic basket, it was only a couple of minutes, but when I came back… Jason was gone," Her voice wavered, and she sucked in a breath. "My mom was just sitting there, crying, and she just kept repeating it over and over—"he's gone, he's gone, he's gone" Like that was all she could say,"

Jaune's stomach twisted.

Thalia let out a bitter, broken laugh. "She said he was taken, just like that, no explanation... No fight! No nothing! Just gone! Forever!"

Jaune opened his mouth, but the words caught in his throat.

Thalia's shoulders shook as she clenched her fists tighter, her nails digging into her palms. "I couldn't take it anymore! It was the last straw! She was supposed to watch him! She was supposed to protect him! I was supposed to protect him!" Her voice cracked, raw and filled with years of unspoken guilt. "And I... I failed!"

Her breathing hitched, her whole body trembling now. She squeezed her eyes shut, willing herself not to break, not to let the dam burst, not to—

Before she could spiral any further, she felt warmth.

Strong arms wrapped around her, pulling her into a firm embrace.

Thalia's eyes snapped open in shock. Jaune had pulled her against him, holding her tightly just like he used to hold his little sisters whenever they cried. His grip was steady, unshakable, as if trying to ground her, to shield her from the storm raging inside her.

"It's not your fault, Thalia," Jaune said, his voice gentle but resolute. "You were just a kid, there was nothing you could have done,"

Thalia's breath shuddered as she clenched his shirt in her fists. "I still could've—"

Jaune shook his head, tightening his hold. "No, you couldn't have," His voice was firm, unwavering. "You didn't know it was going to happen, you weren't supposed to be the one protecting him, she was, your mom should've done something, she should've fought, but you? You were nine, Thalia, it wasn't your responsibility, It never should have been,"

The dam broke.

Tears slipped from Thalia's eyes, silent but unstoppable, soaking into the fabric of Jaune's shirt. She hadn't let herself cry about this in years. Had always shoved it down, buried it under layers of anger, of resentment, of defiance. But here, in this moment, she let herself grieve.

Jaune didn't say anything more. He just held her, letting her lean into him, letting her shoulders shake as years of guilt finally spilled free.

And for the first time in a long time…

Thalia didn't feel so lost.

Jaune exhaled slowly, his arms still wrapped securely around Thalia as her quiet sobs faded into deep, shuddering breaths. He didn't rush her, didn't try to force her to speak. He just let her be.

Then, after a long pause, he spoke.

"I know what it's like to lose someone, Thalia," his voice was soft, steady, but laced with the weight of his own grief. "Before Penny… I lost someone too,"

Thalia stirred slightly against him, not pulling away but listening.

"Her name was Pyrrha," Jaune continued, his grip unconsciously tightening just a little. "She was my teammate, my best friend… the first person who truly believed in me when no one else did, without her, I don't think I ever would've made it this far,"

He swallowed hard, his throat tight with memories of green eyes filled with warmth, of a voice that always carried encouragement, of a hand reaching out to help him stand every time he fell.

"She taught me how to fight, how to be stronger… how to believe in myself," he said, his voice almost distant, as if he were speaking to a ghost rather than Thalia. "And just like that, she was gone,"

Thalia shifted, lifting her head slightly to look at him. The firelight flickered across his face, illuminating the quiet sorrow in his eyes.

"I know the pain, Thalia," he said, finally meeting her gaze. "The anger, the hatred—for the world, for the people who should've done something, for yourself, I've felt it all, I still do,"

Thalia inhaled sharply, her grip on his shirt tightening. She understood that. She felt that.

"But there's something you have to know," Jaune said, his expression resolute. "And something you have to remember,"

Thalia blinked at him, waiting.

"Jason wouldn't have wanted you to give up, he wouldn't have wanted you to spend your life blaming yourself, he wouldn't have wanted you to die holding onto this guilt..." He then broke the hug and placed a hand on her shoulder, his grip firm, grounding. "He would've wanted you to live, to keep moving forward,"

Thalia let out a shaky breath, her chest rising and falling unevenly.

Jaune softened his expression, giving her a small, reassuring squeeze. "That's why I keep fighting, even now, Pyrrha believed in me, and even though she's gone, I carry her with me, I fight for her, and whether you realize it or not, you've been doing the same thing for Jason,"

Thalia bit her lip, looking away as fresh tears threatened to form. But this time, it wasn't from guilt. It was from something else entirely.

Hope.

Thalia quickly wiped at her eyes, brushing away the forming tears before they had the chance to fall. She took a steadying breath, pushing back the emotions still swirling inside her. When she looked at Jaune again, there was a soft smile on her lips—not forced, not out of habit, but real. "Thanks, Jaune," she said, her voice quieter, but filled with genuine appreciation.

Jaune chuckled, letting his hand drop from her shoulder before reaching up and ruffling her messy black hair. "Ha, no problem, Thalia," he said with a grin.

Thalia let out an amused huff, swatting his hand away half-heartedly. Normally, she'd have shot back a snarky remark, but… for some reason, the gesture felt oddly comforting. Familiar, even. She remembered doing the same thing to Annabeth back when they were younger—back before everything went to hell. Before she had to grow up too fast.

Jaune leaned back against the bench, stretching his arms. "Now, you better get back to your cabin before someone catches you sneaking around this late," he said, smirking. "Besides, you've still got all that training with Clarisse tomorrow, pretty sure she's looking forward to kicking your ass again,"

Thalia groaned, throwing her head back dramatically. "Ugh, don't remind me." But despite the complaint, she still had a smile on her face.

With a resigned sigh, she pushed herself up from the bench and stuffed her hands into the pockets of her jacket. She turned, making her way back toward the cabins, the night air cool against her skin. However, after a few steps, she stopped. Something was still nagging at her.

She glanced back over her shoulder, her expression thoughtful. "Jaune?" she called.

Jaune, who had been staring into the fire, looked up at her. "Yeah?"

Thalia hesitated for a moment before asking, "Are you trying to make up for what happened to Penny? Is that why you're so focused on protecting her now? The way she is?" She paused before adding, "Is that why you're hoping grandma can convince Hecate to help?"

Jaune's smirk faded. He held her gaze, the firelight flickering across his face. For a moment, he looked like he might deflect the question, but then, after a long pause, he gave a slow nod.

"Yeah," he admitted, his voice almost too quiet.

Thalia tilted her head slightly, her brows furrowing as she studied Jaune. "And you're trying to redeem yourself… for something she chose?" she asked, her voice carrying a tone of confusion.

Jaune's expression didn't change. He simply nodded. "I am," he said, his tone firm, resolute.

Thalia frowned, crossing her arms. "Why?"

Jaune inhaled slowly, staring into the fire as if searching for an answer he hadn't already replayed in his mind a thousand times. "Because even if it was her choice… I still made the choice to go through with it," he admitted, his voice quieter now. He clenched his fists slightly, as if the weight of that moment still sat heavy on his shoulders. "She asked me to do it, and I did. And no matter how much I tell myself it was what she wanted, I can't forgive myself for being the one who carried it out."

He exhaled through his nose, his jaw tightening before he continued.

"Not until I can actually bring her back to how she was,"

Thalia blinked, slightly taken aback by his words. She wasn't sure what she had been expecting, but the raw honesty in his voice caught her off guard. A part of her still didn't fully understand—was Jaune really carrying all of this guilt because he had honored his friend's dying wish? But another part of her, the part that understood grief all too well, recognized that sometimes guilt didn't care about logic.

She let out a quiet sigh before slowly nodding. 'I think I get it,' she thought.

Jaune offered a small, tired smile, appreciating that she didn't push further.

Thalia turned away, stuffing her hands back into her jacket pockets as she started heading toward her cabin. "Try to get some sleep, Jaune," she called over her shoulder.

Jaune chuckled lightly. "You too, Thalia,"

With that, she disappeared into the night, leaving Jaune alone with the flickering firelight.

Or so he thought.

A moment after Thalia was out of sight, the flames in the nearby fire pit stirred, twisting unnaturally. The embers shifted, stretching outward, moving away from the burning wood until they rose into the air. Then, with a gentle flicker, the flames settled beside Jaune on the bench, morphing into a woman.

Jaune didn't flinch. He barely reacted at all, only glancing to his side as Hestia, the goddess of the hearth, took shape beside him.

The Goddess's warm, steady presence soothed the air around them, and she gazed in the direction Thalia had gone with a small, knowing smile. "Her inner pain has lessened, thanks to your words," Hestia said softly. "You should be proud of that."

Jaune let out a breath, leaning back against the bench as his shoulders relaxed. He offered a small, almost sheepish smile. "I am," he admitted. "Though, all this talk about grief and redemption has made me really tired."

Hestia chuckled, her warm, ember-like eyes twinkling. "Heavy hearts make for weary souls," she mused.

Jaune chuckled softly, his head tilting slightly as he slowly nodded. "I suppose so," he murmured, his voice laced with exhaustion. Another yawn forced its way out, and he blinked sluggishly, his heavy eyelids struggling to stay open.

He knew he should get up. Should at least make it back to the Big House before he collapsed. But the warmth radiating from Hestia was unlike anything he had ever felt before—it was comfort in its purest form, the kind that made the coldest nights bearable, the kind that whispered you are safe.

It reminded him of sitting by the hearth back home, of lazy mornings wrapped in blankets, of fleeting childhood memories where, for just a moment, everything felt right.

His body, battered and weary all the fighting, couldn't resist. Sleep was winning, and no matter how much his mind told him to stay awake, his body had already made its choice.

Jaune felt himself begin to sway, his exhaustion pulling him to the side. Before he could catch himself, strong yet gentle hands steadied him, guiding him down. The last thing he truly registered was the sensation of warmth surrounding him as Hestia caught him, cradling him as if he weighed nothing.

His head came to rest upon her lap.

Slowly, Jaune's weary cobalt eyes blinked up at the goddess, his vision blurred by fatigue. Hestia's amber gaze met his, her eyes glowing like embers in the dim firelight, deep and endless, holding within them the kindness of a mother and the wisdom of eternity.

She smiled softly, brushing a strand of golden hair away from his face. "Hush now," she murmured, her voice like the crackling of a gentle hearth. "Rest,"

Jaune tried to reply, but words felt distant—like echoes in his mind. Instead, he simply gazed at her, his drowsy thoughts lingering on one undeniable truth.

She was beautiful.

Not just in the way gods were expected to be. Not in the way of celestial radiance or divine perfection.

Hestia was warmth itself.

She was the soft glow of candlelight in a darkened home. The scent of burning wood in winter. The steady, quiet presence that made a place feel like home.

And in that moment, in the first true moment of peace he had felt in what felt like years, Jaune allowed himself to surrender.

His eyes fluttered shut, his breathing slowing as he drifted into sleep, his head resting comfortably against the goddess of the hearth.

Hestia watched him for a long moment, her expression serene, as though the sight of this mortal—this tired, wounded, burdened knight—finding peace in her presence was something infinitely precious.

A quiet hum escaped her lips as she slowly ran her fingers through his tousled blonde hair, her touch as light as the flicker of a flame.

Even a warrior needed rest.

And tonight, under the watchful glow of the fire, Jaune Arc was finally home.