A/N: Merry Christmas everyone! Just giving you guys a Christmas present and to let yall know I am not dead, I am still writing, but it will be a while longer before I will officially start posting again. Also working on a couple projects yall will love. Anyways, have fun!

Percy awoke in the same room as before, the soothing crackle of firewood reaching his ears. He opened his eyes to find the room empty this time, much to his relief. He didn't think he could handle the Minotaur in his face again. He sat up on the bed, wincing as his sore muscles protested the movement. Percy was relieved of his armor, his damaged clothes changed out for more of the same. He really wished they would stop changing his clothes for him. Who was changing him anyways? Percy climbed out of bed, stretching the soreness from his muscles. He thought it odd that no one was present when he woke up this time. He would have been lying if he had said he wasn't miffed Artemis wasn't there.

His thoughts wandered back to the fight he had with Nasuag. The skiódes was certainly powerful, more powerful than he anticipated. But that wasn't what unsettled him. He had lost control. When the power overcame him… "I bet you are real happy aren't you, Kronos?" Percy asked the air.

As expected, a grating chuckle filled his mind. I do not know what you mean, the mad titan said before appearing across the room. He leaned against the fireplace; a smirk stretched across his face. "I warned you. If we had used our power sooner, you might have been able to control it. Instead, your stubbornness almost cost us everything."

Percy glared at the titan. He wanted to argue. He wanted to deny his words but couldn't find the words. "There was something… different about what happened," he said, looking at his palm. He felt different than he had before the fight with Pallas. He had been too distracted to notice before, but he felt… hot. Like he had a raging inferno barely contained beneath the skin.

Kronos hummed in thought. "Yes, I had wondered about that," he finally said. "We are in uncharted territory here, Perseus. Maybe our fusion opened pathways we have never considered. There may be other changes that we are unaware of."

"Well, that's just perfect," Percy replied, crossing his arms in annoyance. "Bad enough I have you along for the ride. I still don't even understand what is happening when we fight like that."

The mad titan raised an eyebrow. "Are you telling me you can not understand such a simple concept?" he asked, exasperated. At Percy's shrug he sighed. "Most of the power is just that, power. Everything about you is enhanced; your speed, strength, reflexes, everything. But that is not what has you concerned."

Percy was beginning to become annoyed at how easily the titan could read him. Didn't mean the titan was wrong. "We are controlling time. Aren't we?" he asked, already knowing the answer.

Kronos nodded. "In a sense, yes," he answered. "More specifically we are controlling our own time."

"What do you mean?" Percy asked, his eyebrows furrowing. "Isn't time kinda just… there?"

Kronos sighed. "Fate is not the only force that weaves their threads. Think of individual threads that weave together to form the fabric that is space and time. Nothing can escape its influence. We are capable of weaving those threads to our benefit. However, we are unable to manipulate anything beyond ourselves. I suspect that as we find more pieces of my weapon, your power and connection to my domains will increase."

Percy raised an eyebrow. "Domains?" he asked in confusion.

"I am still a Titan of the Harvest, Perseus," Kronos said in annoyance. He looked like he wanted to say more but was interrupted by someone entering the room.

The Minotaur entered the room, with someone much smaller than him coming in behind. Percy looked in confusion at his pseudo friend/bodyguard's outfit. The bull was dressed in a finely woven black shirt and pants. His fur had apparently been cleaned and combed, not that he looked pleased about that. Percy shared a look with Kronos who shrugged. "Alright, I'll bite," he began as he looked past Asterion to see a sheepish empousa trying to make herself as small as possible. "Why are you clean?"

The Minotaur huffed in irritation before moving aside, revealing the fair skinned empousa behind him. The girl monster gave a small eep before trying to hide behind the bull again. Asterion wasn't having it and held the girl by the shoulder where she couldn't move. Percy gave her a questioning look and she swallowed, moving her blonde hair aside. Percy wondered how old she was. A lot of empousa masqueraded as teenagers to trick demigods, but he was beginning to wonder if it wasn't an act for her. "Warmaster Varg has requested you and your companions join him for dinner, my lord" she informed him, her voice sweet, but lacking the seductive magic of Kelli and others.

Percy looked taken aback. He didn't know why the Warmaster would wish to have dinner with them, but it almost made him more nervous about meeting the massive wolf again. He didn't understand how their magic worked, but for Varg to pacify him with such little effort was… terrifying. "I'm assuming it is not actually a request, right?" At the empousa's nod, Percy sighed. "Alright, I guess. I don't have any nice clothes to wear. On that note, where did you get those Asterion?"

The empousa answered for him, "They were provided by the Stewardess, my lord. She said that no one dines with the Warmaster looking and smelling like a mangy mutt." Her cheeks turned a rosy pink as she realized what she had said. "I-I'm so sorry, my lord. I just mean-"

Percy interrupted her with a chuckle. "Slow down," he calmed the girl, holding out his hands placatingly. "It's okay. What's your name?"

"C-Calista, my lord" she said softly.

There it was again. He had ignored it before, but he didn't like being called a lord. He almost socked Prometheus when he called him that. "Hello Calista, I'm Percy," he said, holding out his hand.

The girl looked at his hand cautiously before she extended her hand, grabbing the top of his hand like a lobster claw and shaking it abruptly. "It is an honor, my lord," she said politely, the embarrassed pink climbing back up her cheeks. "Now, we must get you ready for dinner."

"Oh. Yeah. That," he said slowly, struggling to really accept the concept. The idea of someone as powerful and feral as Varg doing something as civil as dinner was such a strange concept that the thought was giving him a headache. "So, you are here to…"

Calista smiled sheepishly. "I was assigned by the Stewardess as your handmaiden for the duration of your stay. This includes cleaning and answering any questions you have," she informed him. At Percy's surprised eyes, she shrugged. "You are guests of the Warmaster, and he loves standing on tradition. What do you expect?" She paused before her eyes widened minutely. "… my lord," she added as an afterthought.

Percy folded his arms as he leaned away from her, amused. She was clearly not used to speaking to those she or others thought above her, not that he thought he was. This confused him though as, if she was a servant, she would have to interact with what they would consider nobility at some point. "You're doing fine, Calista," Percy assured her.

"My apologies," Calista said as she fiddled with the sleeve of her shirt. "This is my first time being assigned as someone's personal handmaiden." At Percy's questioning look she sighed. "We don't get many like you around here and the Stewardess said I needed the experience being so young."

"How old are you?" Percy asked with growing concern.

"Old enough," Calista answered, crossing her arms. "I was put to work a few years ago when I turned twelve. Everyone has to earn their place in the Warmaster's realm."

"Wait, so you're what, sixteen? Seventeen?" Percy asked in surprise.

Now it was Calista's turn to look at him confused. "Sixteen," she clarified. "What's the problem?"

Percy shook his head. "No problems, just, surprised," he explained. "I just didn't know monsters could…"

"Have kids? Or families?" she questioned him, cocking a hip in a sudden act of defiance.

Percy felt increasingly uncomfortable in this situation. "Uh… Well… I guess? Anyways so what do you need from me?"

X

Percy entered the dining hall with the Minotaur close behind, Calista closing the door behind them. After their rather awkward introduction, Calista had showed him to the baths where he was able to thoroughly clean himself for the first time in… anyways. After his bath, he found that Calista dropped by his outfit for the evening–probably this 'Stewardess' had picked them out, . It was similar to Asterion's attire, matching black shirt with pants and new leather boots. He wasn't quite sure where the leather came from but wasn't sure he wanted to know. His tunic was embroidered along the trims in gold threads, giving it wave like patterns that reflected his heritage. His belt had even more gold laced throughout, wrapped around his waist and holding his tunic secure. The outfit fit him perfectly, neither too tight nor too lose, almost as if someone had taken a walk in his body to test it out. Calistahad tried to tame his hair, but she gave up after half an hour, claiming she had had an easier time managing the Minotaur's fur. He shook those thoughts from his head as he took in the hall.

The hall was long, wide and surprisingly simple in design, given the rest of the castle. Chandeliers of bronze hung from the ceiling with green flames and a long table of dark wood and many chairs in the center. It reminded Percy of the dining halls written about in medieval times when kings would hold dinners with their nobility. At the far end, Varg sat in a massive black throne. The Warmaster was dressed in a blood-red tunic with a range of black patterns decorating the fabric. Varg sipped from a golden chalice, his haunting gaze affixed to the two as they entered. Irrational fear creeped into Percy's soul as he looked into those yellow eyes. The demigod forced the fear down. He couldn't show weakness to one who could probably smell it. Percy looked to find no one else in attendance, no guards or servants. Though, given the way Varg had subdued him so easily, Percy doubted the Warmaster was worried about them. Percy and Asterion walked to the end of the table, Percy taking a seat next to the Warmaster while the Minotaur sat opposite of Percy.

"Warmaster," Percy greeted the massive wolf before looking at the table. It was set up with five sets of tableware, making the rest of the table appear empty as it stretched out down the hall. "I must admit I am surprised you asked us to dinner."

Varg hummed, the sound vibrating the air around them. "You have staved off your execution, but you have yet to earn my favor," he began, swishing his drink in hand. "We are here so I may determine the nature of your usefulness to me."

Percy nodded along in understanding. "Seems like a lot of effort just for a meeting," he said as his eyes wandered the hall. "Not that I am not thankful for the bath, but you don't clothe us in these just for the fun of it."

Much to his horror, Varg gave him a ferocious grin. "That is precisely why," he said before the door opened at the end of the hall. Nasuag entered the hell dressed to match the Warmaster, his blood-red tunic belted with a golden belt. But he paled in comparison to who followed him.

Apparently, Percy and Asterion were not the only ones to have gotten cleaned up as Artemis followed the much larger wolf, her head held high with a glare so cold it would give Khione a domain space in Tartarus. And it would have been impossible to not see what had her so frosty. Gone were her plain tunic and pants and in was a midnight blue gown with silver detail creating constellations of patterns throughout. The bodice was fitted to her athletic frame while the skirt hung loosely from the waist down. Her arms were sleeveless, revealing her smooth, lightly tanned arms and shoulders. The edge of her skirt brushed the floor lightly as she moved. Percy noticed a slit that ran up the side of her skirt, though he didn't see any more as he looked up to her face. Her face had been scrubbed clean, revealing her natural glow that radiated a dull silver. Her auburn air had been brushed and tied in a ponytail which draped down her shoulder and over her chest.

Percy found himself rooted to his seat as Nasuag and Artemis split ways, Nasuag heading down the Minotaur's side and Artemis down his. Quit your gawping, Kronos said, and Percy could hear the smirk on his lips as he shut his mouth abruptly. He had obviously known he had been traveling with a goddess for several months, but for the first time she actually looked like one. Artemis' eyes found his own and Percy forced himself not to laughas her glare intensified, promising utter ruin if he said so much as a word. As she approached the seat next to him, Kronos entered his head again. You should pull out her seat for her, he suggested, the amusement in his voice poorly hidden.

Percy shot to his feet, not wanting to appear rude and pulled the seat out for Artemis. The goddess raised an eyebrow at him, her glare no less intense, before taking the offered seat. Percy pushed her to the table gently before retaking his seat. "Hello Artemis," he greeted her, keeping his eyes focused anywhere but her.

"Perseus," she replied, her tone as frosty as her gaze. Her gaze found Varg who met her terrifying glare with an amused grin. "Warmaster."

"Goddess," Varg returned, his grin growling wider. "I hope the dress is to your liking."

Artemis maintained her defiant glare in the face of Varg's amusement. "If you had hoped to woo me with extravagant displays, you will find yourself very disappointed."

A deep rumble, that Percy identified as a chuckle, emerged from the wolf's chest. "If I wished for a mate, goddess," Varg commented, taking a sip of his drink. "It would take a damn sight more than a spoiled brat to gain my eye."

Artemis seemed taken aback by his statement. She shared a look with Percy, the fierce glare replaced by confusion. "Then what is the meaning of forcing me into this… dress?" she asked in annoyance.

The Warmaster shrugged. "It amuses me," he answered simply, ignoring how Artemis' glare immediately returned upon hearing his words. "To have the power to force an Olympian out from their comfort zone is no small feat."

Percy thought he understood. "This is your domain. This play of power is just to reinforce that point," Percy speculated and was confirmed by the show of teeth Varg displayed.

"Indeed," he confirmed. "Now, let us have the meals delivered, and then we shall see how you will be of use to me." He waved a hand and out came numerous servants, many empousa, from different doors in the hall.

They dropped by trays filled with a smattering of foods, some he could identify, but many others were a mystery. All of it however had an aroma far too pleasant to be typically seen in Tartarus. The servants then filled their goblets with a red liquid, before departing as quickly as they had come, leaving the small gathering to their devices. Varg and Nasuag dug into their food without preamble, using crude silverware to cut into the strange meats and vegetables. Percy looked to Artemis who stared back at him before shrugging and began cutting into her food, though with much less enthusiasm than the two wolves.

Percy picked at what he assumed was hydra meat, eyeing the apparent vegetables unenthusiastically. "So…" he trailed, gaining the attention of those present. "You farm these?"

"We are not savages," Nasuag growled, grabbing his goblet. "The sides of the mountains have been worked into fields of crops for millennia."

Percy shook his head upon the absurdity of it all. The idea that one could not only create a kingdom in Tartarus, but for it to thrive. It defied the very nature of the pit. "Enough," Varg rumbled, Nasuag looking away in annoyance. Varg turned to Percy with a grin of teeth. "Forgive my son. His pride is still wounded from your bout. But now we must begin the task at hand." He paused as he took another swig from his goblet, an empousa running out from a door and filling it with more red liquid.

"You have promised your support but at the moment I see no way for you to fulfill that promise. You have no armies to pledge, no great secrets to reveal and while you are strong, that is not enough to tip the balance of power. Especially as you are presently constituted. So, enlighten me to what I gain from allying myself with you."

Kronos began speaking rapid fire in Percy's mind, the demigod parroting the titan lord much to his displeasure, "We already have allies gathering in the Dark Lands and as my power grows, and it will grow, more will flock to my banner. With sufficient forces, we can join our armies and march on the Brass Fortress. With our combined might, you will finally have victory over your oppressor." Percy felt hollow as the words tumbled out of his mouth, annoyed with himself for having no choice but to listen to the titan.

A deep, menacing growl reverberated through the Warmaster's throat as he bared his teeth. Percy's body tensed up with a sudden wariness. "You speak of maybes and perhaps," he rumbled through clenched teeth. "You may have inherited the Mad Titan's power, but you are no Crooked One." He leaned forward, towering over the demigod. "Speak plainly."

Percy ignoredKronos' efforts to speak again. Percy didn't know how, but he was beginning to wonder if Varg was aware of Kronos. Without other options, he decided to follow the Warmaster's advice. "I am going to defeat Pallas and Perses in the Tower of Terror. Their forces will become mine and when I take down their benefactor, the board will be cleared of all distractions, and we can put all of our focus on Tartarus."

"And how do you expect to defeat them when you barely escaped with your life?" Varg asked, his demeanor relaxing slightly as he settled in his seat.

He shared a look with Artemis, the goddess staring at him with a rare uncertainty. As he again met the trepidation-inducing eyes of Varg, it clicked. Varg did know. Percy didn't know how, but Varg knew Kronos was a part of him. "How?" was all he said.

Varg seemed to contemplate briefly before beginning, "A blood sacrifice ritual is not a subtle thing. If one knows where to look, they may find the scars left behind by such a spell." He took a swig of his goblet. "But something went wrong with your spell, I gather?"

"I interrupted the spell," Artemis informed him. "I managed to subdue Prometheus before he could complete the spell."

The Warmaster hummed in thought. "Such an action should have resulted in oblivion to both parties," he revealed much to their surprise. "For the Mad Titan to have been fused to your soul would mean… well," he paused, his head tilting to the side. Almost as if he were listening to something. Or someone. He suddenly leaned forward towards Percy; his haunting eyes boring intensely into the demigod's. "You fear this power, don't you young one? You fear that the Crooked One is corrupting you, turning you into the thing you despise most." He took a great sniff. "Ah, I can smell it on you. Hidden, but there. The fear of becoming a puppet to the whims of madness. But the truth is, young one, that if he could have, he would have already cleansed you from your body and taken it for his own. You are no more bound to his whims than you are to the gods who have forsaken you."

He leaned back in his seat, his eyes never leaving Percy's. "So, I ask you, Perseus Jackson, Heir to the Throne of Othrys, what will you do when you face the titan brothers?"

Percy stared with eyes narrowed at the Warmaster, speechless. Even Kronos had been silenced by Varg's words. He didn't know how to respond, until he met Artemis' eyes again. Her beautiful silver met his sea green, seemingly pouring with emotions she couldn't bring herself to say. She believed in him. She believed he could overcome this. Percy turned back to find Varg waiting patiently for his answer. Percy flashed him his best imitation of a wolfish grin. "Win."