Chapter 16: Where She Belongs

Whispering Storm Arc III

Thalia smiled as Percy turned and their eyes locked. For a heartbeat, everything else fell away—the distant cries, the smoke curling into the sky, the chaos surrounding them. He stood frozen, disbelief etched onto his face, as if he were seeing a ghost.

"Thalia..." His voice was barely more than a whisper, choked with emotion.

She took a hesitant step forward, her legs unsteady. Part of her feared that if she moved too quickly, the moment would shatter. But then the desperation broke through, and they both closed the distance between them.

Percy's hand trembled as he reached out to touch her cheek, brushing away a streak of grime. The simple contact seemed to confirm that she was real. "The explosion… it was so loud," he said, his voice thick with relief. "I thought... I thought you were gone."

Thalia swallowed hard, her throat tight. "I'm sorry," she managed, her voice barely audible. "I tried to get back. I—"

Before she could finish, he pulled her into his arms, holding her so tightly it was as if he feared she might disappear again. She felt his heartbeat against her own. Her fingers clutched at the fabric of his shirt, anchoring herself to this moment.

"I should have been there," Percy murmured into her hair, his voice strained. "I shouldn't have left you."

She shook her head against his chest. "No, Percy. You did what you had to. It was my choice to stay behind."

He pulled back just enough to meet her gaze, his expression conflicted but steady. "I missed you," he said simply, the words carrying the weight of all the moments they had been apart.

Thalia felt a flush rise to her cheeks, memories of their last desperate kiss flooding back. "I know," she said softly. "Me too."

Percy opened his mouth as if to say something more, his eyes searching hers, but a distant shout cut through the fragile moment.

"Percy!" a voice called from across the camp, sharp with urgency. The spell between them broke as they both turned toward the sound, the chaotic reality of the camp crashing back in.

Thalia glanced back at him, a small, almost teasing smile tugging at the corner of her lips. "We'll talk later," she said, her voice light but carrying an unspoken promise.

Percy smiled. "Yeah. Later."

The momentary ease between them was replaced by the weight of everything they'd endured. They turned toward the voice, but before they could move, Percy stopped her with a hand on her arm.

"Promise me something?" he said, his tone more serious now, his gaze steady.

She raised an eyebrow. "What's that?"

"Don't ever make me leave you behind again," he said.

"Only if you promise not to try and play hero without me."

"Promise."

As their conversation ended, Katie Gardner reached them, with a gash above her brow and dirt smudging her face. Relief flickered across her expression as her eyes landed on Thalia.

"You're back!" Katie exclaimed, her voice filled with genuine warmth. "We thought—well, it doesn't matter. You're here."

Thalia nodded, managing a faint smile. "I'm back."

Katie glanced around at the devastation. "Glad to see you in one piece. We could use the help. Check on the wounded near the armory. They took the worst of it."

"Of course," Thalia replied.

Katie gave her a quick, grateful nod before hurrying off to assist another group.

Thalia and Percy moved through the wreckage of the camp, heading toward the armory as Katie directed. The initial relief of their reunion gave way to the grim reality surrounding them. The air was thick with the lingering scent of smoke and the metallic tang of blood. Thalia's eyes swept over the familiar landscape, now marred by deep gouges in the earth.

She turned to Percy, the question slipping out before she could stop it. "How long has it been since… since we were separated?"

"About two weeks," Percy replied, his voice low but steady.

She blinked, momentarily stunned. "Two weeks? No, it couldn't have been that long."

"It has," he said. "It's felt longer."

Thalia shook her head slowly, struggling to reconcile the time that had passed. "I thought… I don't know. It felt like days. Maybe a week."

Her gaze fell on a shattered shield emblazoned with the symbol of an owl, lying partially buried in the rubble. Bending down, she brushed away the dirt, her fingers tracing the fractured owl. A memory surfaced of the camper who carried it—a sharp-witted girl who always had a book in hand. Thalia's chest tightened. "I should have been here," she murmured.

They reached the armory to find a group of campers tending to the injured. Thalia knelt beside a boy with a bandaged leg, offering him water. He stared at her with a mix of awe and disbelief. "You're Thalia," he whispered. "You're back."

"Yeah," she replied, giving his shoulder a reassuring squeeze. "And we're going to make sure you're okay."

As they continued helping, several campers approached her, expressions brightening despite their fatigue. Their gratitude was evident, but so was the unspoken question of what would happen next. Each interaction drove home the reality of how much the camp had endured—and how much they were relying on her return.

As the immediate needs were addressed, Thalia and Percy found themselves near the battered Big House, its walls scorched and windows cracked from the recent fighting. The sight made Thalia's chest tighten.

"We should see Chiron." Percy said, trying to distract himself from the awful scene. "He'll want to hear everything."

They made their way up the creaking steps of the Big House, the familiar porch now scarred with scorch marks and deep gouges. As they stepped inside, the air was thick with the scent of herbs and antiseptic. Voices murmured, low and tense, as campers moved about with purpose.

The infirmary, normally a place of quiet care, had been transformed into a scene of controlled chaos. Every available cot was filled, some occupied by demigods barely older than children. Bandages stained crimson were piled in a corner, and the constant hum of healing magic mingled with pained groans. Thalia's eyes swept the room, noting the way the healers moved with a practiced efficiency that spoke of grim familiarity—this wasn't their first wave of wounded, and it likely wouldn't be their last.

A young camper, his arm wrapped tightly in blood-soaked cloth, caught sight of them and tried to sit up, wincing. "Thalia…" he rasped, his voice thin. "You're back. We're going to be okay!"

Thalia's smiled as her eyes moved over the crowded infirmary, taking in the sheer number of wounded campers, some barely conscious, others fighting to hide their pain. She turned to Percy, her voice low, disbelief and worry evident. "Is this… all from today's attack?"

Percy shook his head, his expression grim. "No. This is from weeks of attacks. It's been building up. Today was just… the worst of it."

Thalia felt a chill run down her spine as she absorbed his words. The reality of what their camp had endured hit her like a punch to the gut. "Weeks," she repeated, the word heavy on her tongue. She glanced back at the cots and the pale faces lying upon them. "It's been like this for weeks?"

Percy nodded, his jaw tightening. "We've been holding on, barely. Every attack leaves more of us like this. We patch up, regroup, and then it starts all over again." He gestured around the infirmary. "This… this is what it's become."

Thalia's fists clenched, determination hardening her features. "It can't keep going like this," she whispered, more to herself than anyone else. "We have to find a way to stop it."

"We will," he said quietly. "Chiron's waiting."

They moved deeper into the Big House, passing more makeshift treatment areas—tables turned into operating stations, corners turned into triage points. The place they'd once gathered for counsel and celebration had become a stronghold of survival, each room bearing scars of battles fought and battles still to come.

They found Chiron in the war room, his human torso leaning heavily over a map of the camp and surrounding areas. His eyes were rimmed with fatigue, lines etched deep into his face.

Chiron's eyes widened as he took in the sight of Thalia, his normally composed demeanor cracking for a moment. "Thalia?" he whispered, as if saying her name too loudly would make her disappear. He stepped forward, his hooves clattering softly against the wooden floor. "Is it really you?"

Thalia nodded, her throat tightening at the raw emotion on the centaur's face. "It's me, Chiron."

He took a steadying breath, his eyes searching hers for any hint of illusion or trickery. "We thought… we feared the worst," he admitted, his voice heavy with the weight of weeks spent believing she was lost. "The Labyrinth… no one expected you to make it out."

"I know," Thalia said softly. "It almost didn't happen. But I'm here now."

Chiron's gaze flicked briefly to Percy, gratitude and relief mingling with the lingering shock. "You have no idea how much your return means," he said, turning back to Thalia. "The camp has been… we've been barely holding on. Where have you been?"

Over the next few minutes, Thalia recounted her journey—confronting Luke, her desperate attempt to destroy the scythe, and the events that led to her conversation with Artemis.

Thalia took a steadying breath, her voice low but resolute. "Artemis told me that destroying the forge did more than we realized. It stirred Typhon."

Chiron paled, the weight of the revelation settling over him. "Typhon… If he fully awakens, it would spell disaster."

"I didn't know. I thought I was stopping something worse. But now it feels like I've made things even more dangerous."

"Never mind that, Thalia," Chiron started. "You did all that you could, and at the end, that is what matters." He paused, a thoughtful expression crossing his face. "Your conversation with Artemis has reminded me of something important. In times like these, we often find strength in places we may not have expected."

Before Thalia could respond, Chiron's eyes caught on the bracelet wrapped around her wrist. "That must be the bracelet the Fates gave you," he said, his voice thoughtful. "Percy mentioned it when he told me what happened."

Thalia glanced down at it, the familiar weight suddenly feeling heavier under Chiron's scrutiny. "Yeah. They gave it to me right before everything… before we were sent into the Labyrinth."

Chiron studied it for a moment longer, a mix of curiosity and caution in his gaze. "The Fates rarely offer gifts without purpose. Have you noticed anything unusual about it since then?"

Thalia stared down at the bracelet, her fingers tracing its intricate thread as the memory washed over her. "When I tried to destroy the scythe," she said, "this bracelet… it started pulsing with energy. It got so hot, like it was burning me. It felt alive, reacting to what I was doing."

Chiron's eyes darkened with concern as they settled on the bracelet. "Burning?" he murmured, as if trying to grasp the implications. "For it to react so strongly—especially when you confronted the scythe—suggests a connection. Perhaps it was meant to counter the scythe's power… or perhaps it is something more complex."

Thalia's fingers tightened around the threads. "So you think it's tied to the scythe? Or… to Kronos himself?"

"It's possible," Chiron admitted, his gaze growing distant as he considered the possibilities. "The scythe is no ordinary weapon; it's a fragment of Kronos's essence—a symbol of his strength and influence. For the bracelet to react in its presence could mean it is somehow linked to that power. But whether it was meant to protect you, to bind you to it, or… to serve some unknown purpose, I cannot say with certainty."

Thalia stared down at the bracelet. "Figures," she muttered, a mix of frustration and bitterness in her voice. "The Fates hand me something that might just be here to screw me over in the end."

Chiron's expression softened, though uncertainty lingered in his eyes. "We do not know for sure, Thalia. The Fates are not known for making their intentions clear. Artifacts like this can be blessings—or burdens. They may guide, protect, or test those who bear them. But they can also be tools to entangle one's destiny further with forces beyond comprehension."

Thalia clenched her jaw, feeling the weight of Chiron's words sink in. "Great," she muttered. "Just when I thought I was finally starting to get a grip on things…"

Thalia took a steadying breath, forcing herself to meet Chiron's gaze one last time. "Thank you," she said, her voice steadier than she felt. "For everything. But right now… I just need to clear my head."

Chiron nodded, understanding reflected in his eyes. "Of course. Take whatever time you need."

She turned and quickly walked out of the room. As she exited the Big House, the weight of the bracelet on her wrist felt heavier with every step, almost mocking her uncertainty. For a fleeting moment, she considered ripping it off and throwing it as far as she could—letting it sink into the earth where it could no longer bind her to the Fates' twisted game. The thought lingered, tempting and wild, but her hand hovered over the bracelet without moving.

She couldn't bring herself to do it. As much as she hated it—hated the mystery, the possible trap it might be—something deep inside whispered that she needed it. That it was part of her path, whether she wanted it or not. With a frustrated exhale, Thalia clenched her fists and kept walking.

"Thalia!" Percy called out as she left the Big House, quickening his pace to catch up.

She stopped, her back to him for a moment before turning, her expression unreadable. "What?"

He hesitated. "Just wanted to make sure you weren't about to punch a tree or something."

A corner of her mouth twitched, but it didn't reach her eyes. "Not yet," she said dryly. "But the day's not over."

Percy shifted, the weight of unspoken words hanging between them. "Look, I know… everything's a mess. But we'll handle it."

Her eyes flicked to him, steel-hard but with a hint of something deeper. "I don't need a pep talk, Percy."

"Good," he replied, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips. "I'm terrible at them anyway."

Thalia's lips quirked into a small, genuine smile. "I'll give you that," she said, a touch of humor cutting through the tension. She took a breath, the weight on her chest lightening just a little. "I just… need a moment."

"Of course," Percy said, his tone more serious now but without pushing further.

Thalia turned away, and started walking.

Percy stayed where he was, watching her retreat. His silence followed her, and for a moment, she thought he might actually let her go. But something about the thought felt... wrong. She slowed, her steps faltering as she glanced back at him.

He was still there, hands in his pockets, his expression calm but watchful. Waiting. Thalia hesitated. The thought of walking away from him—after everything—left her feeling hollow.

"Hey, Percy?" she called, her voice softer now.

His head lifted, surprised. "Yeah?"

She shifted her weight, suddenly feeling a little self-conscious. "Do you... want to go for a walk? Maybe find some place to just… be together?"

For a moment, Percy just blinked, as if he hadn't expected the question. Then his lips curved into a warm, genuine smile. "Yeah," he said, stepping toward her. "I'd like that."

Thalia nodded, and without another word, they started down the path together. The camp was quiet, the distant murmur of voices fading into the rustle of leaves and the steady rhythm of their footsteps. As they walked, Percy's hand brushed against hers, and she took it without a second thought. His fingers curled around hers, steady and warm, and they continued down the path together, the silence between them as natural as the sound of their steps.

Thanks for reading! Let me know what you think!

Review Responses

SD2901: Yes they are finally together, it's about time!

KaidoFett: Interesting approach, that would be devastating haha!

anaklusosdude16: I appreciate it! I see what you're saying about Kampe. Hope the cyclone isn't too bad

merendinoemiliana: As always thank you!

Guest: Thank you guest!

magrocrat777: Totally! The fates suck haha