Percy Jackson and his Lady of the Moon

by NobilBright

Percy Jackson must navigate the treacherous waters of Olympian politics and relationships as he ascends to become the 15th Olympian, the Lord of Change. he must balance his role as a leader, hero, and lover while preparing Olympus for future threats. He becomes the power behind the throne. Wild and unpredictable, The Laughing Storm rises.

6. (FBF) Chapter 5: His Lady of the Moon

Chapter 5:

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Jason's POV ~ Delos:

The crew gathered in the command room of the Argo II, the table cluttered with maps, charts, and notes as we prepared for our next destination: Delos. The goal was Apollo, but we'd also heard rumors that Artemis was there too.

We were divvying up who'd be going where when Percy spoke up, "Artemis and I are friends. I'll go and talk to her myself."

I glanced at Annabeth, and for a second, I saw her bristle at Percy's comment. It was subtle, but it made me pause. Why would she be upset? I mean, if he had said he was friends with, say, Aphrodite or some other goddess who hasn't sworn off love, marriage, and… well, you know, other things, then maybe I'd get it. But Artemis? She's like the ultimate goddess of not having to worry about someone stealing your boyfriend. If anything, she'd be more likely to turn him into an animal than steal his heart.

Still, I couldn't figure out Annabeth's reaction, so I pushed it aside for the moment.

"Sounds good," I said, trying to keep things moving. "Leo and Frank can go to Apollo. Percy, you want someone to go with you? Maybe Hazel and I?"

Percy nodded. "Sounds good, man."

"Okay, so Piper and Annabeth keep the ship safe. Is that alright with you guys?" I asked diplomatically, hoping to avoid any more tension.

Surprisingly, it worked—at least 50%. Piper nodded in agreement. "I think that's a good idea as well. We'll keep the ship safe, just... be careful, Jason. And the rest of you too."

I smiled at her, feeling that familiar warmth whenever she looked at me like that. "Of course. You'd kill me if I did anything stupid, right?"

She chuckled and nodded, and with that, the conversation shifted back to our plans.

The teams were set. Percy, Hazel, and I were headed to talk to Artemis. Leo and Frank would take Apollo. Piper and Annabeth would hold down the fort here on the Argo II. Everything was as organized as it could be.

As we prepared to head out, I couldn't help but steal one last glance at Annabeth. She seemed calm now, back to her usual self, but something about her earlier reaction still bugged me.

But there wasn't time to dwell on it. We had work to do.

And with that, we set off.

---

Hazel POV ~ Delos:

As we walked along the path toward Delos, I couldn't help but feel this heavy weight in my chest. Guilt. Pure, undeniable guilt. It clung to me like the humidity back home in New Orleans, and no matter how I tried to shake it off, it stayed.

Jason and Percy were just ahead, talking quietly, and I kept my eyes on the ground. Percy… he was like a big brother to Frank and me. He mentored us, protected us, and guided us when we didn't know where to turn. And what did we do in return? We were blind, utterly blind, to the depth of his suffering when he came back.

I only figured it out by accident, overhearing Jason and Leo talking one evening. Leo, bless his heart, said some not-so-flattering things about Annabeth that I won't repeat. Not just because a lady shouldn't speak like that, but because I like Annabeth. Always have. I don't agree with a word of what Leo said. Still… Leo was right about Percy. We all failed him, didn't we? Failed both of them, honestly.

That realization had kept me up one night, my mind swirling with guilt. I couldn't sleep knowing I hadn't done anything to help him. So, I gathered my courage and made my way to Percy's room. I wanted to apologize, to tell him I'm sorry and that I'd do whatever it took to help, but when I reached his door, I heard it.

I'll never forget the sound of his voice, low and broken, calling out in his sleep. "Annabeth," he muttered, and then, clearer than anything else, I heard him say "Akhlys" and "Nyx."

It chilled me to my bones. I walked in, and there he was, thrashing in his bed, drenched in sweat, trapped in the grip of a nightmare. I tried to wake him, but it was like he couldn't hear me. So, I sat beside him, doing the only thing I could think of—being there.

I put my hand on his shoulder and whispered that it would be alright, though I wasn't sure he could hear me. I just wanted him to know someone was there. He kept twisting and turning, fighting some unseen terror, and my heart ached to see him like that.

When he finally woke up, looking dazed and apologetic, I… well, I'll admit it. I cried. I couldn't hold it in. I hugged him, and told him it was alright, that I'd always be here for him. He didn't deserve to carry all that pain by himself.

That was last night, and we haven't spoken about it since. But I sat with him for an hour, just holding his hand in silence. Sometimes, I think just knowing someone's there is enough. At least, I hope it is.

I just want to help him. In any way I can.

As we continued walking across Delos, My thoughts were still caught on Percy, on how much guilt I'd carried these past few days, but hoping that I'd finally helped him, even just a little, eased some of the trauma he'd been facing.

I glanced over at him and decided to break the silence. "Percy, how was your night?" I asked softly.

He gave me a tired but genuine smile. "I slept well, actually. After we talked... thanks for being there, Hazel."

His words made me feel a lot lighter like that heavy weight that had been hanging around my heart was starting to lift. Jason glanced at Percy, looking like he wanted to ask something but decided against it. Instead, he just fell into a comfortable silence beside us.

After a while, I took a deep breath, feeling like maybe I could speak now without that lump in my throat. "Percy, how do you know Lady Diane so well?" I asked, curious.

Percy chuckled. "Artemis, right? Well, I and a great friend—and legendary hero named Zoe Nightshade—went on a quest together. Jason, we went with your sister, Thalia, too. We had to free Artemis from Atlas's curse."

"Wait, Thalia?" Jason asked surprised and excited to learn more about his big sister.

Percy nodded, his expression softening a little as he remembered. "Yeah. That was the quest we fought the Manticore and these unkillable skeletons only Bianca could kill. It's also where we met our resident oracle, Rachel. I swung my sword through her on accident" Percy said laughing before adding at our horrified expressions. "She's 100% mortal, so it didn't hurt her!"

Percy's expression got serious then. "Both Bianca and Zoe died on that quest. Bianca was Nico's big sister, she was kind and strong beyond belief, a true huntress, and a true daughter of Hades. Zoe became my friend on the quest, she's why I hate Hercules so much." Percy said, before pulling out riptide.

"This was her's, it was her immortality, as much a part of her as your heart or soul. Hercules was supposed to steal a golden apple for his 13 labors. He wouldn't have been able to do it without Zoe, her knowledge of Landon, and….. This" Percy finished raising riptide. I gasped,

"She gave him the equivalent of her soul?! I asked my hand over my mouth.

Percy's eyes got dark, "Yes, she thought he loved her, she gave up more than that, she knew she'd be disowned for helping him, that she'd lose the only home she'd ever known. She did it cause she loved him, or at least thought she did. He used that to get what he wanted, and then he left her. Told her it'd be to dangerous for her to come with him. That he only ever loved one woman and it wasn't her. He kept her sword and abandoned her."

Boom

I was startled not realizing what happened, but then I looked forward and saw a tree had been struck by lightning,

"Boy!" I said disgusted, as Jason was far to angry to be embarrassed at losing control.

"Um Hazel, you might want to look down," Percy said with a small grin. As I looked down I noticed gold and gems pooling at my feet. "Oh," I said embarrassed.

"Rotten embarrassment of a 'hero', stupid jerk" Jason said, putting a contempted emphasis on the hero part.

"Anyways that quest cost us a lot. After everything... we all shared this grief. I became friends with Artemis during that time. We talked during the party the Olympians threw after everything was over."

He paused for a moment, his voice lowering. "I told her about her best friend's final weeks... Zoe. She made me realize I couldn't blame myself for their deaths. That it would be a disservice to both of them. And for that... I'll always be grateful. I owe her for that."

The way Percy spoke about Artemis made me think of her in a whole new light. He wasn't just talking about some distant, cold all powerful goddess. He was talking about someone he trusted. Someone who'd shown him kindness when he needed it most.

"She's one of the kindest souls I know," Percy added, his voice quiet.

I smiled a little to myself, feeling like I'd just learned something new about Percy. And as we kept walking, I felt better. Like maybe, just maybe, we were all starting to heal in our own ways.

---

Artemis POV:

I was freaking out. There's no other way to describe it. When Percy had fallen into Tartarus, something inside me had shut down. I had become… inconsolable. I locked myself in a deep, somber silence, retreating so far inward that even Apollo couldn't get through to me. No one could.

And yet, Percy did what he always did—something impossible. He came back. He survived the pit that no one should have been able to escape, and now he was walking toward me.

Me.

I paced in my tent, my mind racing faster than it should for a goddess. Apollo had actually been more helpful than I would ever admit—playing the role of 'elder brother' as he liked to call it. I'm older, dammit! It didn't matter that he was born in an 'older' form; I was born before him, I was the older one. How couldn't I be if I helped Mother deliver the idiot!?

But then, something else gnawed at me. Something foreign. I felt giddy. My heart raced at the thought of seeing Percy again. For Hades' sake, I even summoned a mirror and checked my reflection—me, goddess of the Hunt, checking my appearance like some mortal girl. I'll deny it to the end of my days, but there it was, undeniable in the pit of my stomach.

Then I heard him.

He was walking toward me, flanked by two demigods. I strained to catch their conversation, my sharp senses picking up fragments of Percy's words. He mentioned needing help. Help? A strange, uncomfortable pang shot through me—was it worry or… jealousy? The thought of Percy needing someone else, someone I didn't know, gnawed at me.

I reached out with my senses, brushing against the girl's aura, trying to understand her connection to him. What I felt was… familiar. Strong, protective, but not romantic. It reminded me of the bond Percy shared with my lieutenant, Thalia—deep, loyal, but strictly sibling-like. The girl had helped him through something dark, that much was clear. She carried the same weight Percy did, the same shadows lingering in her aura.

Another daughter of Hades—Pluto, if we were speaking in Roman terms. Just like Nico. Just like Bianca. I exhaled, feeling a touch of relief, but also curiosity. This girl wasn't a threat to me, She was family, in a way, another child of the Underworld who understood Percy's burdens in ways few others could.

But the worry stayed with me. How much help did Percy need? What scars did Tartarus leave on him? Was he the same man as the one he was the last time we had met?

Suddenly, a sharp pain exploded in my head. It hit me like a tidal wave—Diana was taking control.

---

Diana's POV:

Oh, fantastic. Of course, Percy had Roman demigods with him. Artemis was ready for this moment, but I? Not so much. If I messed this up, I would never hear the end of it. I could already feel Artemis watching me, waiting for me to screw up.

Goddess of the Moon and the Hunt. Feared by men. Terrified of a man who wasn't even fully grown yet. Great.

"Just be his friend, dear." That voice again. The one I couldn't stand, and we still hadn't figured out who it belonged to. It wasn't Aphrodite. At least, we knew that much. Whoever it was, they were getting on my last nerve.

"Concentrate, dear. They're almost here," it purred, that ever-so-annoying hint of smugness dripping from every syllable.

I looked out and saw Percy explaining Zoe Nightshade and Bianca di Angelo's story to the others. His words struck a chord. The anger they all felt, hearing about Zoe's fate. Of the damage done to her by my bastard of a brother Hercules. I could feel it rolling off them like a storm. Zoe's downfall, her sacrifice—it was still bitter in my chest.

I straightened, trying to collect myself. It wasn't often I was the one in control when meeting with Percy; usually, I had Hestia or my Father watching over my shoulder, and I couldn't let him see how rattled I was. I am a goddess, I reminded myself. Get it together, Diana.

But as Percy came closer, there it was again. That light in his eyes, the hint of a smile. He made it impossible to maintain my cold, distant composure. He always did.

"Just be his friend," the voice whispered again.

I could do that, right? I could just… be his friend.

Couldn't I?

Diana's POV:

---

Jason and Hazel were standing before me, their postures rigid with formality. Hazel's eyes flickered nervously between me and Percy, while Jason, ever the leader, dipped his head in a respectful bow. "Lady Diana," he greeted, his voice steady, though there was an edge of tension behind it. Hazel quickly followed suit, mimicking his formality, and though their respect was clear, my focus was solely on Percy.

He stood a little behind them, his usual casual confidence slightly tempered by the situation. And then there it was—that familiar nervous habit. Percy reached up and rubbed the back of his neck, his fingers brushing through his dark hair. He always did that when he was unsure of something, and the gesture made my heart skip for a brief moment.

Jason and Hazel introduced themselves, their voices filled with awe and tinged with fear, but it was Percy who finally broke the silence. He stepped forward slightly, curiosity evident in his demeanor. "They called you Diana, and I'm guessing that's more than just semantics. Is that why you seem different, my lady?" His question made my heart clench unexpectedly. Despite all the moments I had shared with Artemis during their encounters, I was not her. And he knew it.

"Please," I said, my voice softer than I intended, "just call me Diana, Percy." His name felt strange yet comforting on my lips. I silently berated myself for behaving like some mortal girl meeting her crush for the first time. I'm a goddess. I shouldn't be feeling this way. But all my scolding vanished the moment he smiled.

"Sorry, Diana," he said, genuine warmth in his tone, "just making sure you were in on that deal." He hesitated, choosing his next words carefully. "If you don't mind me asking—just out of curiosity—how does it work? Are you and Artemis the same person, or is it more like a... mood swing? Are you a completely separate person? If so, were you there every time I met Artemis?"

His question was respectful, but I could sense the curiosity behind it. I nodded quickly. "We are two entirely different people. It started when we moved to Rome—just slight differences at first because the Romans viewed us differently from the Greeks. Belief is a powerful thing. Over time, it changed more dramatically. Artemis resisted, but within the first five hundred years of being part of the Roman pantheon, we developed separate consciousnesses. Our thoughts, actions, and feelings became our own."

"So…" Percy spoke slowly, as if carefully weighing his words, "do you share her opinion of me? I don't want to offend or upset you... Would you consider me a friend?"

For a moment, I regained my composure. I straightened, my voice firmer than before. "That depends on you, Percy," I said, meeting his gaze. "Do you consider me a friend?" I paused, the weight of my words sinking in before I added, quieter this time, "I'm not Artemis. I hope you know that."

He looked at me, thoughtful as ever, before he responded with a sincerity that caught me off guard. "In that case, I hope we get to know each other, because I'd love to know you, Diana, just like I know Artemis."

A genuine smile tugged at my lips then, and I could sense the other demigods watching in quiet amazement. They stood respectfully to the side, giving Percy and me our space, but I could feel their awe. Perhaps it was out of reverence for their friend, who was clearly having a moment with someone important, or perhaps they just didn't want to risk upsetting me.

Either way, it didn't matter. For the first time in what felt like centuries, I was simply Diana. The last few centuries had been hard—Artemis was the better-known aspect, the dominant form. I was often locked away, summoned only to drive the moon chariot or offer advice in battle or council. It wasn't Artemis's fault; it was the nature of our shared existence. Still, every time she looked at him, I couldn't help but share her intrigue, her growing longing. Yet, I knew his eyes would always be for her.

It was hard enough for Artemis to watch Percy with that mortal girl, but for me? He didn't even know I existed. I was invisible to the only man I had ever desired, a secret he would never uncover. He would live out his life happily with his lover, and I would endure, knowing he never once saw me.

But now? Now he sees me. He knows me. And that silly girl? She's not here—she's pushed him away. I watched it unfold, torn between fury at the way he was treated and the thrill of opportunity. Many long nights, Artemis and I have whispered about him, our plans, our shared thoughts. It felt like we were on the cusp of a dangerous and thrilling hunt, chasing prey too valuable to lose.

And now, this quarry is within reach. I intend to make sure he doesn't slip away.

---

Artemis POV:

I was there.

Well, in a sense. I watched everything unfold from within Diana, my Roman counterpart, as she spoke with Percy. It was a strange feeling, being present yet not in control, like watching a play with no power to intervene. But what made it worse was the anxiety gnawing at me, a constant buzzing beneath the surface.

I could feel Diana's emotions as she gazed at Percy—his nervous habit of rubbing the back of his neck, the way he smiled whenever she spoke. He had that effect on people, drawing them in without even realizing it. I should know—I've seen it happen enough times.

Jason and Hazel were standing by, clearly trying to be respectful, though I could sense their unease. They had introduced themselves formally, but Diana barely acknowledged them. Her focus was solely on Percy. It was almost endearing, watching her struggle to maintain composure, and I could feel her frustration as she berated herself internally.

Then Percy asked that question—about how Diana and I worked. How we were separate yet the same. The way he phrased it, polite and curious, made me smile despite myself. He was always so careful not to offend. But as Diana answered, explaining the complicated nature of our existence, I felt it—that sharp, irrational stab of jealousy.

He wasn't speaking to me, not really. It was Diana he was engaging with, Diana he was trying to understand. And for a moment, I found myself grappling with the thought: What if he liked her more? What if the Roman aspect of me was more appealing to him?

Ridiculous. I chastised myself harshly. Diana was me, and yet—there was that knot in my chest, tightening with each word exchanged between them. They were having their moment, and I was merely an observer.

"Do you share her opinion of me?" Percy asked, his voice soft yet sincere. "I don't want to offend you or upset you… Would you consider me a friend?"

Diana hesitated. I could feel her uncertainty, her need to respond carefully. And when she answered, "Depends on you. Do you consider me a friend? I'm not Artemis… I hope you know that," I could practically feel her heart racing. Mine raced with her. Damn it all, why was I reacting like this? Diana's composure faltered—Percy had that effect—and once again, I was reminded of just how much influence he wielded without even knowing it.

Then Percy's response—simple yet honest—"In that case… I hope we get to know each other, because I'd love to know you, Diana, just like I know Artemis." The sincerity in his words hit me hard, and I felt an odd mix of relief and frustration.

He wasn't mine.

Not yet.

That was the bitter truth. As aggravating as it was to admit, Percy and I were just… friends. And even that term felt too loose, too undefined for what I felt. But he wasn't mine to keep—he wasn't even mine, period. I couldn't worry about losing him to Diana or anyone else because I hadn't earned his affection in the first place.

I would have to win him over before I could even think of sharing him with myself. That reality hit me harder than I cared to admit.

I focused back on Diana, who was smiling—smiling like I hadn't seen her do in centuries. Percy had that effect on her too, it seemed. Damn boy.

Jason and Hazel, meanwhile, stood back in awe, like they were witnessing something too important, too private, to interrupt. They probably were. I could sense their respect for Diana's power, but more than that, they respected Percy. His presence among gods and goddesses seemed natural to them, which only made me more aware of his importance.

As they watched, I caught Hazel glancing at Percy with an expression I couldn't quite place. Was it admiration? Or perhaps concern? She, more than anyone, knew the weight of Tartarus, the burden Percy carried from those dark depths. Jason, on the other hand, looked both proud and confused, as though he still didn't fully grasp why Percy had volunteered for this meeting. But neither of them said a word, choosing instead to give their friend the space he needed.

I exhaled, feeling the tension ease slightly in my chest. Diana was doing well. Better than I expected. But still, the jealousy lingered, a quiet whisper at the back of my mind. It wasn't just that she was talking to Percy—it was the way Percy looked at her. He wasn't guarded. He wasn't hesitant. He was open and trusting, like he had been with me so many times before.

But that wasn't me standing before him. Not really.

It was absurd to feel this way. Absurd to even think I had any claim over Percy. He wasn't mine—not yet, at least.

But I would have to fix that, wouldn't I?

---

Jason's POV

Watching Diana and Percy interact was... eye-opening.

At first, I thought it was just the usual nervousness of mortals meeting gods, especially when it came to Diana. She was intense, all eyes on Percy. Then I noticed something more. The way she reacted to him—the soft smile, the hesitations in her voice. It wasn't just respect or formality. It became clear she was barely holding herself together.

It hit me, like a bolt from the sky. The Maiden Goddess definitely has a crush on my friend.

I almost laughed at the absurdity of it, but the realization froze me. Diana—Diana, the goddess who had sworn off love and marriage—was acting like a mortal girl trying to figure out how to talk to her crush. And Percy, the lovable fool, had no clue. He was asking her questions, smiling that easygoing smile, completely oblivious to the effect he had on her.

I glanced at Hazel, who was standing beside me, observing the scene with her usual calmness. When our eyes met, she gave me a look that said it all—You're seeing this too, right? I nodded slightly, confirming that, yes, we were both thinking the same thing.

Percy didn't realize it, but he was navigating dangerous waters. And I knew what I had to do.

As a son of Zeus, I was used to watching over my friends. Flying and controlling winds had given me an affinity with birds, but in this situation, I needed to be a different kind of bird—a wingman. Not in the romantic sense, though. Percy didn't need help figuring out that part, at least not yet. No, he needed something else. He needed someone who could talk to him about Tartarus, someone who could help him work through what he'd been through. And Diana—whether she realized it or not—was probably the best person for that.

But they wouldn't have that conversation with me and Hazel standing around.

I took a deep breath, steeling myself for what I needed to do. Interrupting a goddess in the middle of a heart-to-heart was a risky move, but it had to be done. I just had to approach it delicately—and fast, before Diana decided I was better off as a small furry animal.

"My lady…" I began, my voice steady but respectful.

Diana turned her gaze on me, and instantly, I felt the weight of her attention. Her eyes bore into mine, and two things became very clear. One: I was making the right decision. And two: I needed to get this over with quickly if I didn't want to end up as a rabbit.

"I can see that Percy doesn't need our help or support here," I continued, my tone as polite as I could manage. "Is there any way you could point me and Hazel toward your brother? We'd like to see if we can help our friends in convincing him to support us on our quest."

I held my breath, hoping she would understand what I was really asking. It wasn't about finding Apollo or helping the rest of our crew, though those were important too. I just wanted to give Percy some space. Space he desperately needed, and privacy that would allow him to talk about the one thing none of us could really help him with—Tartarus.

I threw in a silent prayer to Diana, hoping she would hear it. "Please help him. He needs someone to talk to about the pit, It was bad down there, and we've tried to help as best we could. But you… you seem to be closer to him than anyone else here. Please, help him. He needs it."

Diana's gaze softened, and I could see the understanding in her eyes. For a brief moment, I thought I saw something else too—gratitude, maybe. She knew what I was doing, and she wasn't going to turn me into a squirrel for it.

"Of course," she replied, her voice calm but layered with meaning. "You and Hazel should find Apollo. He will be expecting you."

I exhaled, relief washing over me. We had our opening. With a quick glance at Hazel, who nodded in silent agreement, we turned to leave.

As we walked away, I couldn't help but glance back at Percy one last time. He needed this. He needed someone to pull him out of that darkness—someone who wasn't afraid of gods or monsters or the horrors he'd seen in the pit. Someone who had enough experience to give him the confidence in his actions and undo the damage done by Annabeth's knee jerk reaction to her fear. Diana was exactly the person for that, even if she didn't fully realize it yet.

And maybe, just maybe, Percy would start to see what I was seeing. Eventually.

---

Percy's POV:

As Jason and Hazel walked away, I turned back to Diana, but something strange happened. In front of me stood not just one goddess, but two. They looked like twins, yet subtle differences set them apart.

One was Artemis, the goddess I had known for years. Her beautiful auburn hair was braided, cascading down her back like a fiery waterfall. Her silver eyes glowed with an otherworldly power, sharp and piercing, making me feel both awed and intimidated in her presence. She was a huntress, a goddess of wolves and violence, embodying a beauty that was both austere and unattainable. Her cold beauty mirrored the moon—always there, always radiant, yet forever out of reach, never to be mine, no matter how deeply I desired it.

But as I looked closer, I saw something more beneath that icy exterior. There was a timid uncertainty, a gentle vulnerability that belied her fierce reputation. It was the kind of fear of rejection that anyone could relate to, the kind that often lurked beneath the surface of those who seemed untouchable. Her true self felt as distant as the stars on a cloudy night—visible yet obscured. I could sense the walls she had built over millennia, meant to protect herself and those who relied on her.

And then there was Diana. She stood beside Artemis, a reflection of her twin yet distinctly different. Diana was more outwardly honest, wearing her heart on her sleeve. While she exuded a wild beauty—uncontrollable and far less conservative than Artemis—there was also a loneliness and insecurity in her that captivated me. I felt an instinctive desire to show her that she wasn't alone, that I'd never abandon her. She wore her long auburn hair down, flowing freely, framing her face and giving her a more free-spirited appearance. She didn't hide beneath the ice; she was the wild, the untamed huntress on the ground, grounded in reality rather than the moon goddess soaring with the stars.

"Wow! How'd you do that!?" I asked, genuinely impressed.

But as they both swayed slightly, each helping the other to steady herself, I instinctively stepped forward to assist. I stopped short, though, not wanting to disrespect them. Even if we considered each other friends, they were still goddesses. I caught a flicker in their eyes that almost looked like disappointment at my hesitation.

"With great difficulty," Artemis said, her voice strained and her expression serious.

"With your friends leaving, Artemis was able to return," Diana explained, glancing at her sister. "But we couldn't decide who would continue our talk, so…"

"We split. The first time in centuries," Artemis finished, with pride in her voice.

"You two are extraordinary," I said earnestly, and both their faces turned a shade darker, as if blushing at my statement.

"We want to talk to you about some things," Artemis continued, clearing her throat as the mood shifted.

"Of course, what's up?" I asked cautiously, a knot tightening in my stomach. I feared I knew what this talk would entail.

"Where is the blonde?" Artemis asked firmly.

"Oh, uh, Annabeth is back at the ship," I replied, my heart racing. I was really worried now. Surely they would agree with her. Was she ending our friendship? Did they think I had gone too far? Did they think what I did down there was monstrous?!

"Why?" Diana asked softly, her tone coaxing but insistent.

I sighed, the weight of their gaze pressing down on me. "You already know why. I did what I thought was right. I'm sorry, but I won't apologize for protecting her. I know she's probably done with me; she obviously doesn't trust me anymore. All I can do is follow my heart and do what I think is right and needed."

Artemis frowned, but before she could speak, Diana cut in. "Don't presume what we may think or not think, Percy. You've read about the things we've done in the past, and what we're capable of when protecting our own. We don't know what happened down there, but we trust you. Now trust us enough to believe that."

I looked up, astonished, my voice barely a whisper. "Thank you."

Artemis nodded at me, her expression softening, and gave Diana a look that conveyed her approval. There was a warmth in the air, a strengthening of trust between us. I felt as if a heavy stone had been lifted from my chest.

"Now, tell us what happened down there," Artemis said firmly, her silver eyes searching mine. "Not one detail left out."

I took a deep breath, feeling slightly cornered, but still, I had to trust my friend right?

"Alright," I began, glancing at both goddesses. "It all started when we fell into Tartarus. I was with Annabeth, and the place is… worse than I can put into words. It's like a living nightmare, where your worst fears come to life. The ground was broken glass, the air was acid and poison. The monsters were everywhere, but they were nothing in comparison to her…."

Diana leaned in, her expression pained as I continued. "Who did you face down there?"

I hesitated, then forced myself to speak, the words feeling like jagged glass in my throat. "I fought Akhlys," I began, my voice hollow. "The goddess of Misery and poison." Just saying her name made my skin crawl, like I could still feel the venomous presence of her shadow lurking over me. "She wanted to drown Annabeth and me in her poison—slowly, painfully. Every drop of that toxic mist burned like acid, and I could feel it eating away at me, inch by inch."

I swallowed hard, my hands trembling as the memories surged back. "At that moment, I was desperate, filled with a fury I didn't even recognize in myself. I couldn't let her win, couldn't let her take us. So I fought back. I used her own poison against her, twisted it around her like a weapon, turning her cruelty on herself. I grabbed her—felt her squirm beneath my grip—and I drowned her in her own venom. Her screams echoed in the air, but I didn't stop. I couldn't."

My breath hitched as I remembered Annabeth's voice, frantic, begging me to stop. "Annabeth pleaded with me, told me to let her go, but… I couldn't. Something inside me snapped. I just kept going. When Akhlys was finally weak enough, I didn't feel relief—just a cold emptiness." I paused, my chest tightening as I relived the moment.

"I hardened the poison—turned it into chains, sharp and unforgiving. I bound her in those chains, watching as they sank into her skin, binding her tightly. Then… I cast her into Chaos itself, banishing her to the void." I finished, fully expecting a reprimand, my hope was there, that she'd agree with Leo, Nico, Jason, and Reyna. All of whom assured me in the rightness of my actions. I've yet to breach the topic with Frank and Hazel as I feel this need to shield them from the darker aspects of being a demigod, at least a little while longer. I remember the conversation with Reyna, right before she left with Nico. She was stern in her assurances. Annoyed I'd even entertain such notions.

"You are a Praetor of Rome, it will not do for a Graeco to slander your name as such. Romans destroy their enemies utterly, so they may never rise again to threaten you. We have survived and thrived because of this. Do not doubt your instincts, they are what won against the Titan King, what saved us against your Father's bane during the attack on New Rome." She finished by saluting me in Latin.

"Te sequimur propter causam. A latere tuo pugnamus propter fidem nostram in te. Ne fidem in te ipso perdas, alioquin omnes peribimus."

With that memory and the hope it brought me I looked up at Artemis and Diana, and the fire in there eyes were not one of anger but awe, Or atleast I hoped so.

"You faded a primordial?!" Diana asked, exasperated.

Please be awe, I prayed, If she wanted to smite me, there was very little I could do. Trust me as I trust you, she had said. I sighed.

"Yes," I said cautiously.

Artemis whistled. "That's spectacular. The only other time in history that was done was with Ouranos. It took Kronus, Hyperion, Iapetus, Crius, and Coeus—five Titans—with the help of the Earth Mother herself. And you, out of your element, on her home turf, in the Pit no less, did it alone. You destroyed one of the most ancient evils our world knows, all to save a girl you fell into literal hell to protect. And you think—no, worry—that I'll what? Hate you? Fear you? Despise you? I knew that blonde was foolish, but really, Percy, you don't have to worry about that with me."

Her smile melted away all the little restraint I had left. I breathed deeply and said, "Thank you. You have no idea what that means to me."

"Now tell us everything else. We want to help you. Let us be there for you," Diana continued. They were finishing each other's sentences; it was oddly endearing and cute… No! Bad Percy! Not even Hestia and your dad together would save you from that blunder.

So I continued with my story, trying not to think about cute redheaded friends who also happened to be the goddesses of maidenhood.

"We were given a 'tour' of the House of Night by Nyx herself. She said she was impressed with my sacrifice to her mother, even if it was her daughter who I slew." They both looked at me, exasperated.

"You met the most ancient of the Primordials, the mother of all terrors, and she helped you?!" Artemis asked incredulously.

I nodded. "Yeah, she was very interested in me for some reason. Another reason Annabeth doesn't trust me—more proof that I have darkness in me," I continued, feeling saddened.

They both scowled at that, strangely it wasn't at what Annabeth had said but rather at Nyx's interest in me, though it deepened when I revealed Annabeth's reaction. They said nothing though, only placing one hand on each of my shoulders. I just realized I was sandwiched between two all-powerful goddesses.

"After that, we met back up with Bob."

Artemis looked at me strangely.

"Oh, yeah, sorry—Bob is Iapetus. During the Second Titan War, I erased his memory and left him with Uncle. He befriended Nico and came to Tartarus to protect me. He became my friend and my guardian. He and another, Damasen the giant, are the reason I'm here. When we reached the Doors of Death, Tartarus took form."

Artemis's eyes went wide.

"No," Diana whispered.

I nodded. "Yes," I said.

"They fought him and held the doors so we could escape." I choked on the next part. "I abandoned them. Zoe's grandfather sacrificed himself to save me. All he asked was that I tell the stars hello."

"Tell Zoe hello… that's what he meant…" Artemis said softly. But Diana was staring at me.

"You did not," she said slowly. "Abandon him, Jackson!"

I looked at her, then down at the ground. But she did something that surprised me. She leaned forward, grasped my face, and tilted it upward.

"You didn't abandon him," she continued. "What would you say if you had saved someone at the cost of your own life, and the one you saved said what you have just said?"

"I'd tell them they were wrong," I said slowly.

"Well, there you have it, Percy. You're wrong to think that way. He saved you. Now honor it by living a good life. Tell the stars hello. Tell his granddaughter hello. Live for them, Percy. Can you do that?" Diana finished.

I nodded and smiled. "Thank you, Diana." I noticed a flicker of something on Artemis's face—something I couldn't quite put my finger on.

Diana looked at me carefully, her expression softening, yet a hint of something more anxious flickering in her eyes. "Is that all?" she asked gently.

I hesitated, my throat tightening, the memories flooding back. Shaking my head slowly, I murmured, "I don't know if it's real or not but..."

Artemis and Diana shared a worried look, their concern visible in the way their eyes locked for just a brief moment before turning back to me. "Talk," they both said in unison.

I swallowed hard, feeling the familiar dread well up inside me. "It's the dreams," I said, the words tumbling out like a confession. "They've been worse lately. Demigod dreams are terrible normally but ever since I got out of Tartarus, sleep's been... different. When I close my eyes, I'm back there. It's like it never ended. Like I never escaped, sometimes I worry that all this" I pointed to the world around me and to both of them sitting beside me. "Is just a dream of a soul on the verge of flickering out of existence."

Artemis's expression tightened, a frown forming as she studied me closely. Diana's eyes softened, and she leaned closer, her hand already on my shoulder squeezed harder as she leaned in. "What happens in these dreams?" Diana asked, her voice low but steady, though I could feel the fear beneath it.

I took a deep breath and began explaining. "I wake up in Tartarus. Akhlys is there. She stands over me, mocking me, telling me I never escaped. Her poison is everywhere, choking me, drowning me. I... I try to reach Annabeth, but she's always just out of reach. The poison won't respond to my will, I can't control it and I die…" Both Goddesses flinch at the bluntness of my statement.

" Then the giants come, and I'm running. It's always the same. Bob is gone nowhere to be seen, it's always the same, the poison, the darkness, the giants laughing... they catch me every time. I feel the first strike and the second but by the third, the darkness comes again. After that it gets worse Akhlys returns and taunts me, and then Tartarus himself appears."

Artemis inhaled sharply, and Diana's grip on my shoulder tightened slightly, her eyes wide with concern.

"I can't fight him," I continued, my voice trembling. "I can't save Annabeth. Tartarus grabs me... crushes me. Every time, it's the same. I feel my bones breaking, the pain so real... like I'm still there."

Artemis's usually composed expression cracked, her silver eyes filled with a mixture of concern and sorrow. Diana's eyes glistened with unshed tears.

I swallowed hard, my throat tight as I began to speak again. "But that isn't what truly bothers me," I said, my voice barely above a whisper. "I can deal with fear, with pain. I've lived my whole life knowing I was going to die. Surviving the Great Prophecy was a miracle in itself. I was raised to be a soldier, and a good soldier is ready to make any sacrifice."

Artemis and Diana both bristled at this, their eyes flashing with disapproval. Before they could speak up to berate me for not valuing my own life, I continued, and what I said next sent chills down their spines.

"What bothers me," I said, my voice hollow, "is that I always end up with her. With Nyx. At the shore of creation and annihilation. I can hear the primordial ocean whispering to me. I can almost understand it. It speaks in a language I almost know. And I feel its desire, its hunger for me… and its gratitude for the sacrifice I accidentally gave it."

I paused, watching their reactions, before continuing with a deep breath. "It wants me to jump in. To swim in it. Nyx tells me every night that it's not yet time—that I must wait to claim 'her.'" I made air quotes, feeling a chill crawl up my spine. "I don't know who she is. But Nyx tells me she's chosen me to 'claim her.' Every time I get to that shore, my memories are scattered—broken. I have to put myself back together, piece by piece. And each time, when I finally remember everything... I wake up. The last thing I see is Nyx smiling at me as I fade away."

Artemis and Diana were staring at me, their expressions shifting from concern to something more serious—something darker, true terror. They exchanged a glance, their faces taut with tension.

"Do not tell anyone else this, do you understand?" Artemis said sharply, her voice suddenly laced with urgency.

"What?" I asked, confused.

"Swear it!" Artemis insisted, her silver eyes burning with intensity. "On the Styx, swear that until we tell you it's safe, you will tell no one else. Only Hestia and your father. Anyone else would be disastrous."

"What? Why? What's happening?!" I asked, feeling panic well up inside me. Their reactions were scaring me more than anything I'd faced in Tartarus.

"Swear it, Percy!" Diana begged her voice firm but tinged with desperation. "Swear you won't repeat this to anyone but Hestia and Poseidon. You could be betrayed, imprisoned, and even killed. Thank the Three Sisters Delos is warded from eavesdropping."

Their fear and urgency unsettled me. I couldn't understand what I'd said that could be so dangerous, but I could see how serious they were. "Okay," I said quietly, swallowing my unease. "I swear on the Styx to your terms."

Thunder boomed in the distance, sealing the oath. The two goddesses looked at each other before turning their gaze back to me, their faces pale, filled with both terror and awe.

And then, they revealed the most absurd and terrifying thing I had ever heard in my life.

---

Artemis POV:

I can't believe it! The likelihood of this happening is astronomically small. I shouldn't be surprised, though. The impossible and improbable always seem to swarm Percy like moths to a flame! But still, In all our history…

I look at Percy, my mind reeling, but before I can begin to explain I must do something important first.

Without a word, I raised my hand, my fingers deftly weaving through the air. Silver light gathered at my fingertips, and I began crafting a ward, an intricate bubble of protection. The magic shimmered, responding to my will as I shaped it, ensuring no sound could slip past its boundary.

Diana glanced at me, understanding immediately. This was a conversation we couldn't afford to let fall into the wrong ears.

I concentrated for a moment longer, pulling the protective bubble tighter around us, sealing us off from the outside world. The air within the ward became softer, almost muted, while everything beyond the glowing barrier felt distant—like echoes of another realm.

"There," I said quietly, satisfied with my work. The ward hummed gently, a near-invisible shell of shimmering moonlight surrounding us. "No one can hear us now. We're shielded from prying ears."

Diana gave me a nod of approval, her gaze flicking around the perimeter of the bubble before settling on Percy. "Delos is warded, but we can't risk being overheard," she said softly. "This... conversation needs to remain between us."

Percy nodded slowly, though I could see the tension in his eyes. He was beginning to understand the importance of whatever we were about to reveal. I watched him closely, knowing that the world was about to shift for him in ways even he couldn't predict.

And so, with the ward in place, we began.

"Why are you so powerful? Why are my demigod siblings so powerful? Why was Bianca?" I asked, my voice steady despite the excitement I was feeling.

He scratched the back of his neck, his face a picture of confusion at the direction of my questioning.

"Because we're children of the Big Three, right? They're the most powerful of the gods," Percy said cautiously.

"Exactly. But why?"

"Because they're the oldest, right? The original six are ridiculously powerful. The first generation is much stronger than the second and third."

"Yes and no," I coaxed, leaning closer. "But why are my father and my two uncles so much more powerful than the other three children of Rhea?" I paused, offering a hint. "Here's a clue: what do pegasi call you?"

Percy's eyes widened in surprise. "I never told anyone about that! How do you even know that?" he asked, incredulous.

I sighed, understanding the insecurities of having a king for a father. "Because all children of the Big Three face similar treatment. I do. Many respect me more because I'm Zeus's daughter than for the fact that I'm an Olympian. So, answer me, Percy, so we can move forward."

He rolled his eyes, exasperated. "They call me Lord. Or Prince. Some other royal title or honorific."

"Exactly. And that's why they're so powerful."

"Because they got to carve up the universe after they defeated their father?" Percy asked, his indignation clear. "Why didn't any of the others get a shot at that?"

I couldn't help but smile at his sense of fairness. "Because," I said, "the myths aren't entirely accurate."

"What?" he asked, his confusion deepening.

"They didn't choose, Percy. They were chosen. And no, not by their sisters, but by the beings they would later rule. Personifications are as alien and beyond the gods as we are beyond mortals. They can take human shape and 'walk among us,' but it's uncomfortable and unnatural for them. The Earth Mother isn't the goddess of the earth… she is the earth."

Percy's face paled slightly as he whispered, "The pit, his blood was the rivers... the ground…. The ground, Hades! We were walking on him!"

I shuddered at the thought, and without thinking, I scooted closer to him. "Don't dwell on that, okay?" I said softly, trying to offer some comfort.

As I did, Diana also pulled Percy close and hugged him, and I couldn't help but scowl, before quickly masking my reaction and continuing.

"You were only partly right about the power levels," I said, forcing myself to focus. "The first generation is indeed more powerful than the second and third combined... except for one."

"Who?" Percy asked, his curiosity piqued.

"In the third generation, a god was born—one like you in many ways. He was loved by all, rebellious, and powerful beyond his peers. But he didn't just surpass the second-generation gods; he ascended even further, surpassing all of the first-generation, save the Big Three. He became their equal. He made the Big Three into the Big Four."

Percy blinked in surprise. "Who was it? And why don't I know of him?!"

"He was a son of Hermes," I explained, "and you do know him. You've even met him. Percy, think—can you recall any other god who was designated as a monarch?"

Percy thought for a moment, his brows furrowing, and then his eyes widened in realization. "Pan?" he asked.

"Yes, Percy. Pan, the 'Lord of the Wild.' Each king derives his kingdom from an aspect of reality. My father is the king of the sky, inheriting it from Ouranos. Your father is the king of the seas, inheriting them from Pontus and Thalassa. And our uncle, Hades, rules over Erebus—the lord of darkness."

"What about Pan?" Percy asked, still processing. "I mean, it's kind of obvious, but… I can't be right, can I?"

I smiled gently, nodding. "Yes, Percy. Pan was the king of the earth—the Earth Mother herself. As long as Pan was with us, my great-grandmother, Gaea, remained asleep. Her kingdom and her powers were ours to command. But in our hubris, in our carelessness and foolishness, we forsook Pan. We allowed humanity to ravage his kingdom, to exploit and destroy the wilds, until one day… he disappeared. As he weakened, the Earth Mother began to stir."

I watched as my words sunk in, and Percy's eyes lit up with realization. "That's why she's waking her children and waging war? For revenge? But wait, how was she able to create the Giants? She moved against Olympus during the first Giant War, right?" he asked curiously.

"Timing, Percy," I replied. "After the original six Olympians defeated the Titans, they doled out severe punishments. Harsh ones at that. Gaea was furious, still very much awake, and she began her plan for revenge. But just before it could bear fruit, Pan was born—born of Zeus's line. She was smitten with the child, and fate seemed to favor him. He was born more powerful than any other of the second- and third-generation Olympians. Right before the war with the Giants began, Gaea chose Pan, and he ascended as the Lord of the Wild. The Giants lost the backing of their mother, and the only Primordial left supporting them was their father, who preferred to sleep and had little influence on our world. We lived on Gaea, and now her chosen fought for us."

"So now that Pan's gone, we have a rematch of the first war, but now we're fighting the Earth Mother herself, on her home turf?" Percy asked, his voice laced with apprehension.

"Yes," I replied carefully, "but fortunately for us, the satyrs kept Pan just enough alive to keep Gaea dormant, buying us valuable time. That's why my father allowed the search for Pan to continue for so long. It broke his heart to keep his grandson and friend in a state of perpetual undeath, but it was a sacrifice we needed him to make. It gave us time—time to prepare for her inevitable return. Because she would return, Percy. And when she does, her wrath at the loss of her chosen and favorite would tear this world apart, root and stem."

"Wait," Percy said sharply, his voice rising, "you knew what state he was in? And you knew he could have found peace if the satyrs had stopped their search? Please… tell me you didn't know where he was?"

Diana looked away, unable to meet his gaze. I, however, met his eyes proudly. "I was a good friend of Pan. My domain of hunting fell into his kingdom. He was one of the few males allowed near my Huntresses... but yes, we knew. And he knew we knew. It was necessary, for the good of the world."

Percy's face darkened with anger. "And the satyrs who died looking for him? I almost lost Grover on his search for Pan. That's... That's evil."

"A necessary evil, Percy," I said firmly. "I will not engage in moral philosophy with you now. We have little time. You must listen to me. Only my father and uncles understand what it means to rule an aspect of reality itself, to control the very foundations of existence. The only others who could explain it are the Primordials themselves, and they aren't exactly easy to find. But you found one—or rather, she found you."

I studied his face, seeing the fear and confusion growing in his eyes. "I think... I hope... I fear that you've been chosen, Percy. Chosen by Nyx, by something far beyond us, to rule a personification. It sounds too familiar to what Pan explained to us. He was sworn to secrecy by my father, but he told us what he could. The reason you're having such a nasty reaction is surely due to your mortality. The fact that you weren't utterly destroyed—mind, body, and soul—is a testament to your unnatural willpower and strength of spirit. From what you've told me, you should have been atomized. But do you understand what this means?"

Percy's eyes widened, his face pale. He stuttered, unable to fully comprehend it. "No, I don't," he said quietly, though I could see in his eyes that he did. He just didn't want to admit it.

"Percy," I said softly, my voice tinged with awe, "you've been chosen to become a god. Not just some minor god, created from siphoned-off power from our divine essences, but a god chosen by fate, by the Primordials themselves, by the pillars of existence itself."

---

Nyx's POV:

---

I am darkness. Not merely the absence of light, but the embodiment of shadow itself—the whispered fears that take root in every mind. I am the terror lurking beneath the horizon when the sun dips low, the creeping dread that festers in the hearts of mortals when they are alone. To exist as I do is to be more than just an entity; it is to become the primal fear that even gods cannot escape.

In my true form, I am boundless. I am the deep void of the night sky, stretching infinitely beyond sight. I am the darkness behind closed eyes, the suffocating pressure of isolation. I am the weight that fills the air when silence becomes unbearable. I am the fear that stirs when there are no distractions, when thoughts fall silent and all that remains is the awareness of my presence.

And yet, this is not a burden—it is bliss. Here, in the infinite expanse of my true nature, I am unchained. No form limits me; I flow and drift as a gentle hum of terror woven into the very fabric of consciousness. I fill the spaces between stars and worlds, inhabiting the silence between breaths. This is my waking sleep, a dream without end. In this state, there is no pain, no discomfort—only peace, only the darkness that cradles me as a constant companion.

But even this eternal peace must end when I am called to action. When I must take form.

The discomfort begins before I even start to condense my essence. A sharp ache, like pressure building behind the eyes, or the suffocating sensation of being squeezed into a space far too small to contain me. I know what comes next—the agony of confinement into a mortal shape. It is like forcing an ocean into a fragile glass jar—agonizing, constricting, and deeply unnatural. My essence rebels, but I push through the pain, shaping myself into something tangible, something comprehensible, though every inch of me screams with the wrongness of it.

This smallness—it is a necessary discomfort, one I have long since grown used to. It is the price I pay to interact with the world as it is.

And so, with a final surge of pain, I solidify. I stand at the shores of Chaos, in Tartarus. The air here is thick, swirling with creation and destruction, humming with primordial energy. The boundaries between worlds blur, and the churn of the universe echoes through the void. I look out over the abyss, my form now stabilized, the silhouette of a woman cloaked in darkness. But this shape is not truly me—merely a shell, a necessary echo of my true essence.

Every step in this form feels wrong, the ground beneath me too solid, too real. The weight of it bears down on me as if the entire sky presses upon my shoulders. I was never meant for shape, for flesh—but I endure, as I always have.

I wait, patient and eternal, at the shores of Chaos. I am darkness, the whisper of dread that no one can escape, and though this form brings me pain, I smile. For even now, I am still Nyx.

And so I wait, a daughter awaiting her mother.

---

I am darkness. The shadow beneath consciousness, the unseen terror that fills the void when light disappears. But I am not nothing. That is her.

Chaos.

My mother, the one who existed before anything else—the void, the true nothingness from which all things emerged. She is the source of all creation and destruction, the beginning, the renewal, and the inevitable end. Where I embody fear within the darkness, she is total annihilation, destruction incarnate, the force that tears down only to give rise to creation once more. She is everything that was, everything that will be—the endless cycle of existence, forever turning.

It is here, in the deepest reaches of Tartarus, that I call to her. I prepare myself for the ritual, knowing that to awaken even a fragment of her vast consciousness strains the very fabric of existence. But it must be done.

I close my eyes and let my form dissolve, merging with the thick blackness that coils and writhes around me. The darkness is my ally, my nature—but even it pales before my mother's nothingness. I begin the ritual, my voice slipping into the ancient language not meant for mortal tongues. The words distort reality, bending the very essence of the void.

Slowly, the world around me changes. The air thickens, twisting into strange, incomprehensible patterns. The ground beneath me dissolves, no longer solid nor fluid. It is as though I stand at the very edge of existence, where the boundaries between what is and what is not blur.

And then, I feel her.

Chaos.

Her presence is unlike anything in this world—or any world. She is not a force that can be measured or understood. She is the absence of all things. Where I am terror of the unknown, she is the crushing nothingness that predates all existence. She is destruction incarnate, the force that unmakes reality, yet from her, all creation is born.

My darkness recoils before her, and I too feel the weight of her presence pressing against me—an infinite void bearing down on my essence. Unlike me, my mother is not a force of fear or shadow; she is the nothingness that swallows all things, the primordial void from which even I was born.

Her consciousness stirs, slow and vast, seeping through the cracks of reality like a thick fog. It is not her whole being, just the faintest touch of her awareness. But even that small fragment feels like it could consume everything.

I kneel at the edge of the abyss as her presence overwhelms me. The primordial forces swirl like a storm, crackling with energy older than time itself. Her whispers fill the void, pressing against me like the weight of a thousand galaxies, though no mortal could hear her voice. It reverberates through me, into my very essence.

I bow my head in reverence, the shadows within me stirring. "So, mother," I begin, "the boy is learning the truth… or at least what little that foolish huntress knows. The Olympians... so small, so fragile."

I feel her power wash over me, her response heavy with divine command. My heart flutters with both thrill and unease.

"Yes," I say, my voice trembling slightly. "He must live, of course. I understand. I will not fail you. The discord will end with him... one way or another. I will make certain of it. Gaia will not harm him. She won't take him from you."

Her energy surges again, wrapping around me like a suffocating blanket. Her will is undeniable, and I fall silent as she silences me with a thought.

"Yes, of course," I whisper, my heart swelling at her acknowledgment. Her favorite daughter—it makes me feel whole, if only for a moment.

But doubt creeps back into my mind. "Why do you let her get away with so much?" I ask hesitantly. "After what she did to Chronos... Ananke has never forgiven her. Fate has favored the Olympians ever since."

Her response is slow, and deliberate, carrying with it a weight that makes me falter. She is not working only through me.

"Oh..." I murmur, deflated. "So you and Ananke have..."

The answer comes swiftly, and I bow deeper. "So that's how he came to be?" I ask, trying to keep the bitterness from my voice. "You created the perfect soul... and she molded him with perfect trials?"

Her affirmation ripples through the void, calm yet powerful.

"Eros," I mutter, understanding now. "He found him the perfect partner..." My jealousy flares momentarily, but I suppress it quickly.

"Mother, please..." I begin, daring to ask more. "Let me have him. He is... fascinating. I want him for myself."

Her reply is soft, but it makes my breath catch in my throat. I can almost feel her smile within the chaos.

"I understand," I say, trying to mask my disappointment. "Perhaps... one day."

I hesitate before asking my next question. "Why grant him such power? Gaia tried with Thoon, but this one... he will be beyond even that. And with your—"

A sharp wave of her power cuts me off, a silent command not to question her will. I quickly recoil.

"I would never question you," I say hastily, a chill crawling down my spine. "Never."

Her presence softens, her attention turning elsewhere. She speaks again, her words vibrating through my core.

"Yes, mother," I reply obediently. "He will come again tonight. After his time with the huntress, he will seek answers, and I will guide him. I will tell him of the Primordial Library, withing the land beyond the gods. And... I will send word to your son. I will tell him to prepare."

But doubt gnaws at me. "Mother... why do we need him? Alfodr... he is of lesser stock. Unworthy. Untrustworthy. He plots..."

Her response is swift, and I dare not question further.

"As you command, mother," I whisper, bowing deeply. "It will be done."

---

Artemis's POV:

We sat in silence, the air between us heavy. Percy's gaze drifted over the horizon, but I could see his mind wasn't there. It was elsewhere, wrestling with the revelations we had just uncovered. For someone who had faced countless battles, this new knowledge—his potential, his possible future—was something even he struggled to grasp.

I watched him, feeling that familiar tension rise in my chest. My fingers flexed unconsciously, the instinct to reach for something solid creeping through me. But there was nothing to grasp. Just him, just the moments slipping away.

This should have been enough, I told myself. The conversation had gone well. I had given him what he needed. Yet that restless itch, that gnawing sense of something unfinished, lingered. The waiting... it was excruciating. But this was my game now, and it had to be played with precision.

I shifted slightly, glancing at Diana from the corner of my eye. She met my gaze, and for a brief moment, we shared the same unspoken frustration. We had admitted our feelings for him to each other, but that hadn't made this any easier. If anything, it had made it harder. The pursuit had begun, but patience—the hunter's most necessary skill—was wearing thin.

Hunting was never just about waiting. It was about positioning, about reading the environment, knowing when to push forward and when to pull back. The prey never came to you—you had to circle, set the stage, and strike at the perfect moment. Too soon, and they'd slip through your grasp. Too late, and they'd vanish entirely.

And Percy… Percy was my prey, and he was incredibly elusive. Like a buck, eyes scanning the woods, aware of every twig snapped underfoot, alert to every danger. But his skittishness wasn't born of fear—it was loyalty. He would never betray the daughter of Athena's trust, never stray from the relationship they had built. For a long time, I had been forced to wait, to circle from a distance, watching and praying that she would make a mistake, that their bond would crack.

And now, I was so close I could taste it. That bond had begun to fray—the pressures of their trials, the heartache of hell, her pride and his loyalty. Their once unbreakable connection was under strain. I should have felt disgusted, maybe even ashamed, at the giddiness this realization brought me. But instead, I felt a serene sense of purpose. Like all hunts, this desire gave me direction. Yet, I had to be careful. One wrong move, one step too bold, and Percy would retreat—back to her, back to the safety of what he knew.

It was maddening. I'd never been in this position before. This was the first time in all my existence that I'd ever pursued someone. I was always the one who shooed away suitors, not the one doing the chasing. But here I was, unsure of myself, navigating something I had never allowed myself to experience. And now, I had to do it the only way I knew how: like the hunter I've always been.

What else could I do? Ask for advice? The thought was laughable. Who would I even ask? No one in my circle would ever believe it, nor support it. Even if they did, I had a reputation to uphold. Goddess of the Hunt, fierce and untouchable—how could I show vulnerability now, after everything? To forsake my maidenhood for a mortal? No. I need to win him, then the world can know.

With no experience to guide me, and an image to maintain, my choices were limited. I had to rely on instinct, on strategy. I couldn't afford to rush him, couldn't afford to let my impatience ruin everything. I had to circle, position myself, and wait for the perfect moment to strike.

The waiting… it was agonizing. But what choice did I have? Every step had to be measured, calculated. It wasn't enough to wait for him to realize what we felt—no, that wasn't how this worked. I was guiding him, drawing him closer without him even realizing it. But every move had to be perfect. I had never pursued before, and now, after all this time, I was closer than ever. So close that I could feel it.

I wouldn't let him slip away. Not now.

We sat in the stillness of the clearing, the air thick with unspoken words. Percy's eyes were on the horizon, but I knew he wasn't truly seeing it. His thoughts were somewhere else, far deeper—wrestling with shadows I had only recently come to understand. Tartarus and the fracturing of his relationship with the daughter of Athena had opened his eyes, yet I feared he had drawn the wrong conclusions.

To the world, Percy was a hero—confident, brave, always ready to face any challenge with sword in hand. But I had come to see through that. Beneath the surface, behind the easy smiles and impulsive decisions, lay something far more vulnerable, something even his closest friends likely hadn't noticed. A deep, quiet belief that he wasn't enough—not smart enough, not clever enough—merely lucky to have survived as long as he had.

I broke the silence gently. "Percy," I said, and he turned to me, his gaze questioning. "I've noticed something about you, something I don't think many others see."

His brow furrowed, and I could see the defenses coming up. Percy wasn't used to letting people see weakness in him, so similar to myself in fact. "What do you mean?" he asked, his voice cautious.

I took a deep breath, carefully choosing my next words. "You have a habit," I began slowly, "of deferring to others when it comes to making decisions. You let people like the daughter of Athena, your cousins, and others take the lead. But I don't think it's because you believe they're better suited for leadership. It's because you believe you're not smart enough to do it yourself."

His expression darkened, and he looked away again, his jaw tightening. "I'm not," he said quietly. "I know I'm not."

My chest tightened at the resignation in his voice. This wasn't just self-doubt—this was a belief so deeply ingrained that it had shaped his entire identity. "Percy, that's not true," I said softly but firmly. "You're far more intelligent than you give yourself credit for."

He shook his head, frustration and something like shame flickering across his face. "Artemis, I've always been like this. From the time I was a kid, my teachers said I was lazy, slow. Gabe—" He cut himself off, and I could see him wrestling with old memories, old wounds. "They all said I wasn't smart. I'm not like her. I don't think like she does. She's always been the one with the answers."

"And you've always been the one with the instincts," I countered, leaning forward slightly. I hesitated for a moment, feeling the anxious at what I was about to admit. It wasn't something I would ever say to anyone else—yet here I was, saying it to him. What was this boy doing to me? "Percy," I continued, my voice softer now, more vulnerable than I'd intended. "You saved lives not because someone told you what to do, but because you knew what had to be done. And you've done it before. Do you even realize you saved me against Atlas?"

He quickly tried to deny it. "You beat him, I just took—"

"Yes, you took the sky, Percy," I said, sighing slightly. His humility was endearing if not a little annoying at times. "That day, when Atlas had me bound beneath the sky... You didn't just fight with your sword. It was your heart, your mind that saved us. You saved us, not me. You saw what needed to be done. Taking the sky, holding it—that wasn't just strength, Percy. That was humility, knowing you didn't stand a chance. That was cleverness, quickly deducing a solution. And it was strength of will that no one else could have summoned. Not even a god. You saw that, you acted on it, and you saved everyone."

He was silent, taken aback by the intensity of my words. I could see him trying to process what I was saying, trying to reconcile the image he had of himself with the truth I was offering him.

"I never..." he started, then trailed off. "I never thought of it like that."

"Of course you didn't," I said, a small, almost sad smile tugging at my lips. "Because you've spent so long believing you're just a sword-wielder, that your value lies in your ability to fight. But, Percy, it was your mind—your heart—that saved me that day. No one else could have done what you did."

I could feel the truth of my words settling between us, the significance of what I had just revealed sinking in. I had never planned on telling him any of this. But this boy—this impossible, aggravating boy—had a way of drawing things out of me that I'd never imagined I'd say. What was he doing to me?

He let out a humorless laugh, shaking his head. "You don't get it. I can't do what they do. I can't sit down and plan things out, or figure out complicated problems. I just… I just react. That's all I'm good for."

My heart clenched at his words. For someone so capable, so vital, to believe this about himself was almost unbearable. But it wasn't something I could fix with a few words. This was something deeply embedded in him—this belief that he wasn't intelligent, that he had no place among the planners and thinkers of the world.

"Percy," I said softly, "you've faced trials that most could never imagine. You've made decisions in the heat of battle that have saved countless lives, including mine. That's not just instinct—it's wisdom."

He shook his head again, more forcefully this time. "No. It's just… luck. I've always been lucky. She's the smart one. I've always needed her to guide me."

I felt a surge of frustration—not with him, but with the people who had planted this poisonous belief in his mind. "Luck?" I repeated, my voice sharpening just a bit. "Do you really think it's luck that's gotten you this far? Do you think luck is what saved Hazel and Frank in the land beyond the gods? What tricked Phineas, outsmarted Gaea? Those weren't her plans, Percy. Those were yours."

He looked at me, his brow furrowing in confusion. "I was just trying to survive," he muttered. "I wasn't thinking like… like a strategist."

"You were thinking like someone who understands the world in a way that others don't," I said. "You've always been quick to act, yes, but that doesn't make you reckless or foolish. You've learned to trust your instincts because they're often right. That's a form of intelligence, Percy. And it's time you start believing in that."

He was quiet for a long moment, his eyes downcast. "But I'm not… I'm not like her," he said finally. "I'm not smart like she is. Why shouldn't I just follow her?"

"You're not meant to be like her," I said gently. "You're meant to be you. Her intelligence is different from yours, but that doesn't make yours any less important. You've been relying on her for so long because you've convinced yourself you can't think for yourself. But that's not true."

I could see the struggle in his eyes, the battle between wanting to believe me and the years of doubt that had settled like a weight on his shoulders. "I've spent so long thinking I'm just… the guy with the sword," he whispered. "The guy who fights, who protects. But I'm not… I'm not supposed to be the one with the answers."

"That's where you're wrong," I said quietly. "You've always had the answers, Percy. You've just been too scared to trust yourself."

He looked up at me, and I could see the cracks forming in that deep-seated belief, the faintest flicker of hope beginning to break through. "You really think so?" he asked, his voice almost hesitant.

"I know so," I replied with a soft smile. "You're stronger, smarter, and more capable than you realize. And it's time you start believing in that. Because the world needs more than just your sword. It needs your mind, too."

He was silent for a long moment, then finally nodded, though the uncertainty hadn't fully left his eyes. "I'll try," he said quietly. "I'll try to believe that."

"That's all I ask," I said, my heart easing slightly. The battle wasn't over, but it was a start.

He stood to leave, and my heart thudded heavily in my chest, tension coiling in my limbs. Percy reached out his hand to say goodbye, a gesture that should have been simple, ordinary—but nothing with Percy had ever been ordinary for me. This moment, this parting, felt like a test. A test of the delicate, unspoken bond we had begun to forge.

I had made my decision to pursue him long ago. I had chosen to break from the role I had played for millennia—the untouchable, the unapproachable goddess—and chase what I wanted. Him. But now, with him standing there, his hand extended, I felt the fear creeping in. Not the fear of rejection—I knew he didn't see me that way, not yet—but the fear of making a mistake. Of doing something that would push him away, that would ruin my chances before they had even properly begun.

I had never done this before. The weight of it was crushing. I could feel Diana's presence behind me, quiet but urging me forward. She had accepted this pursuit as well, but it was my move. It had to be.

But what if I miss stepped? What if this embrace—the one thing I felt I had to do—only confused him? What if it pushed him back toward the safety of what he already knew, the comfort of his familiar relationship with the daughter of Athena? What if I broke the fragile thread that connected us?

My hands twitched at my sides, uncertainty battling with the deep need to show him how much he meant to me. My mind raced, trying to measure every possible outcome. I wasn't used to this kind of vulnerability—this kind of risk. Hunting was about precision, control, but this? This was messy. Unpredictable.

I looked at Percy, standing there so unaware of the storm brewing within me. He was just… him. Steady, loyal, and oblivious to the way he had upended my entire world. The thought of letting him leave without showing him a piece of that felt unbearable.

I swallowed, my throat tight. I couldn't hold back. Not now. The fear of making a mistake was nothing compared to the regret I'd feel if I let this moment slip away.

I made my decision.

And then, before I could second-guess myself, I moved toward him.

---

Percy's POV:

I stood, brushing dirt from my hands, and reached out to shake Artemis's. But before our hands met, something shifted—a quick, almost startled movement. Her hesitation was brief, like a ripple in still water, before she stepped forward and closed the space between us.

Her arms wrapped around me, tentative at first as if she was testing the waters, uncertain whether this was right. But then, her grip tightened, pulling me closer. I felt her heartbeat, quick and strong, against my chest. Her breath was warm, and unsteady, as she rested her forehead lightly against my shoulder. She seemed to settle then, her body aligning with mine in a strangely natural way. My face heated as her breasts pressed against my chest, the realization sending a jolt through me. Thoughts I didn't want to entertain crept into my mind. Bad Percy, I scolded myself.

I barely had time to process the sensation when I felt a second presence behind me. Diana. Her embrace was softer but just as certain, her arms circling me from behind. Caught between them, I was surrounded by warmth. It felt as if they were both holding me with a kind of desperation, as though letting go wasn't an option—like they feared losing something that could never be replaced.

Their breaths ghosted along my neck, close enough to send a shiver through me. Artemis was the first to speak, her lips near my ear. Her voice, usually so composed and distant, trembled just slightly as the words tumbled out.

"Be safe," she whispered, each word delicate, almost fragile. Her tone carried something deeper—a quiet vulnerability that made my chest tighten. "Come back to us, Percy… We can't lose you…"

I barely had a moment to process that before Diana's breath brushed the other side of my neck. Her voice was barely audible like a prayer whispered to the night. "Please… return to us, hero. We need you…"

The words lingered in the air, but more than that, they sank into me—into my skin, my bones, like an unshakable weight. I couldn't find the words to respond. The weight of their embrace, the quiet intensity of their words, held me there, suspended in a moment that felt like it could stretch on forever.

Then, just as slowly as they had embraced me, they began to pull back. Their eyes lingered on mine, searching, communicating something that words could never fully convey. There was a thread between us now, fragile and delicate, yet strong in a way I couldn't quite grasp.

And then, the moment ended. The world resumed its rhythm as if it had never paused, but I could still feel the echo of their touch lingering with me.

The world seemed to settle back into its usual rhythm, but I still felt the warmth of their embrace lingering on my skin. I shifted awkwardly, glancing between them as I fumbled for something to say. My mind raced—how was I supposed to respond to that?

I rubbed the back of my neck, feeling my face heat up again. "Uh, thanks," I mumbled, staring down at my feet for a second before forcing myself to meet their eyes. "I—I mean, you both… you mean a lot to me too. I, uh…"

I trailed off, stumbling over my own words. How was it so easy to face monsters and gods, but so hard to say something as simple as goodbye? My voice caught again as I tried to find the right words, my thoughts tripping over themselves. "I guess what I'm trying to say is… I'll be safe. And… I'll come back."

Artemis and Diana exchanged a glance, their eyes twinkling with amusement. Then, unexpectedly, they both giggled, a soft laughter, like rain in a forest. It caught me off guard, hearing something so delicate from them—two goddesses who usually carried themselves with such seriousness and grace. The sound of their laughter was almost foreign, like hearing the wind sing, but at the same time, it was beautiful.

I found myself smiling, a bit sheepishly. And despite the strangeness of it, I realized I wanted to hear them laugh like that more often. The lightness in their voices was something I hadn't known I was missing until that very moment.

"Percy," Artemis said, her voice still tinged with amusement, "you've slain titans and monsters more ancient than humanity… and yet, one hug and you're speechless?" She asked teasingly.

Diana's eyes sparkled as she added, "You're quite cute when you stutter."

My face burned, and I cleared my throat, not expecting her to be so forward, surely she couldn't be flirting? Anyone else and it'd not even be a question, but this is Artemis and Diana, the goddesses of the Hunt and eternal maiden. "Well… I'll see you both later," I said, still fumbling for any semblance of dignity.

They exchanged another glance before nodding, still smiling. I turned, my heart racing for reasons that had nothing to do with battles or quests. As I walked away, I couldn't shake the feeling that their laughter would stay with me for a long time—and strangely enough, I hoped it would.