Disclaimer: I don't own Percy Jackson and the Olympians

This fic would not have existed without the encouragement of Stereden, who has also done a podfic of it, which can be found in its AO3 crosspost /works/57201739 or on my tumblr tsarisfanfiction!

Kronos' next arrival, sometime later – presumably 'tomorrow', except Lee had no way of judging it, and wasn't prepared to accept the titan's word for it even if it hadn't been a lie when he'd said it – brought with it an all-encompassing feeling of dread.

He came bearing food, and Lee's aching wrists almost made him cry as they were released and he once again cradled them to his chest. Not willing to make the same mistake twice, he didn't wait for the titan to leave, murmuring healing hymns under his breath and soothing the aggravated bruises and welts on his skin.

Lee could feel Kronos watching him, but it wasn't like the titan didn't already know he was healing himself as much as he could whenever he got the chance. If he wanted to stop him, it wouldn't be hard, but Kronos seemed in a reasonable enough mood to let him ease his own pain before reaching for the food.

It was better food. The bread was closer to fresh, and the soup was less watery. He'd even been given a spoon, which possibly explained why Kronos was staying to watch him eat, this time, instead of leaving him to it like he usually did.

It felt suspiciously like a reward.

Lee didn't know what he'd done to get one, and he didn't like the implications of it, either. Anything Kronos felt like rewarding was undoubtedly bad news for Lee.

He didn't quite wolf it down, but he didn't linger over the food, in case Kronos decided to snatch it away or something. The thought crossed his mind that it might be poisoned, punishment for lying the last time, but Lee was reaching the point where being poisoned was far preferable to whatever Kronos wanted to use him for.

Maybe he'd change his mind if he actually ended up poisoned, but that maybe wasn't enough to make Lee too wary to eat.

As he ate, he kept an eye on the titan. Kronos was toying with a bracelet on his wrist; Lee hadn't seen it before, or the matching one on the other wrist. Both were seemingly identical, silver with a sickle pendant swinging loose as he moved. The small pendant looked frail and delicate in Luke's calloused hands, despite the son of Hermes having slender fingers – all the better for getting into places they weren't supposed to be, Luke used to joke. It was another common trait amongst Hermes campers, and Lee wasn't so sure it was a joke. The chain that looped itself around the titan's wrist was equally slender and delicate-looking, but Lee highly doubted it was that easily breakable.

Kronos didn't seem the type for frivolous jewellery. Nor did he seem the type for careless fidgeting.

That had been one of the biggest tells that despite being Luke's body, it wasn't Luke. Kronos had the movement, the postures and poses, but he didn't have the energy, the itching fingers constantly searching for something to stick to and liberate from wherever they were supposed to be. Kronos' fingers were still, uncannily so at times.

Lee didn't know what the fact that he was now fidgeting like any self-respecting child of Hermes meant, but like anything different when it came to Kronos, it made him nervous. One thing that was similar was their calculating natures, although Lee had never thought of Luke's calculating tells as anything to worry about, because it was Luke and Lee trusted Luke with his life.

Used to trust Luke with his life. That trust had been shattered by a pit scorpion and a dying twelve-year-old boy that none of Lee's healing was enough to save. Thank the gods for Chiron.

Luke had been calculating, and Kronos was more calculating, and Lee knew that there had to be something important about the bracelets, otherwise the titan wouldn't be drawing his attention to them like this.

As he finished the last of the bread, picking up the spoon to consume the rest of the soup without spilling it down his chin for a change, Kronos slipped the bracelet off his wrist entirely, holding it in the palm of his hand tightly enough that his knuckles went white. Lee watched apprehensively as the titan chanted in a language he didn't recognise - not English, not Ancient Greek, not Latin - and his fist glowed golden.

It wasn't the same golden glow that sometimes happened when Lee did a particularly potent healing hymn, or the golden glow of a claimed Apollo camper. This was a harsher, harder gold that matched Kronos' eyes where they glowered out of Luke's face, and it didn't comfort Lee in the slightest.

Ritual done, whatever it was - Lee didn't recognise it, had never seen anything like it - Kronos slipped the bracelet back onto his wrist and settled back down on his throne of outcropping rock. Waiting.

Lee didn't know what for and he didn't think he wanted to know, either. He gripped the stone bowl tighter, discarding the spoon once he'd scraped as much liquid as possible out, and raised it to his lips to get the last few dregs. Waste not, want not, especially when he had no idea how long it would be before Kronos next gave him food.

The titan was looking at him intently, and even though it would be ultimately futile whenever Kronos decided it was time for Lee's wrists to be chained up again, he crossed his arms defensively. He still wasn't going to just let Kronos tie him up every time, even if it was the foregone conclusion. Amusement flickered in those horrible molten eyes.

"You may keep your tentative freedom for now," Kronos told him. "As long as you behave." He didn't move from his seat, as though he was still waiting for whatever he'd done with the bracelet to start.

"What constitutes 'behaving'?" Lee asked cautiously, not willing to ask about the bracelet but feeling the need to say something to fill the expectant silence.

Kronos waved a hand dismissively. "Not trying to escape, not interrupting important procedures, remaining silent unless I tell you otherwise, once the meeting begins…" He trailed off meaningfully. "You're a smart boy, Lee. I'm sure you don't need me to spell it all out for you."

One word there stood out to Lee. "Meeting?" Who was Kronos having a meeting with, and why here, in Lee's pseudo cell? And why was Kronos waiting instead of dragging his meeting partner with him? Lee was pretty sure no-one in the titan's army was brave or foolish enough to keep him waiting.

"You will see," Kronos said. "Quite soon, in fact." He shook his hand, the bracelet jangling with the movement, before sliding it off again and gripping it in his palm. He murmured some words in the same, unfamiliar language, and a hazy mist oozed out from his clenched fist.

It wasn't quite an iris message, not crisp enough for that, and lacking the tint of rainbow colours Lee was used to seeing. It was muted, colours still visible in the forming apparition but pale imitations of how they usually looked.

"You have impeccable timing, Michael," Kronos said to the image of the boy now hovering in front of him. The boy – Michael, and hearing his brother's name out of the titan's mouth was a nasty shock, even though this clearly wasn't his Michael - seemed to be around Lee's age, but instead of the familiar orange t-shirt he was wearing purple, with golden laurel leaves and the letters SPQR cradled within them. Those were the same letters some of Kronos' followers had tattooed to their arms, and when Michael raised a hand in greeting, Lee saw the same on his, above four thick lines and underneath an image of the same dove that Reuben had.

"I aim to serve you to the best of my ability, Lord Saturn," he replied, and Kronos gave one of Luke's lazy but dangerous grins.

"Of course you do," he said. "Now tell me, how is the legion fairing as of late?" He looked through the apparition, directly at Lee, and with a sinking feeling more akin to a stone being dropped down a well, Lee realised Michael was a spy, but not one in camp.

Michael made no indication that he knew Kronos wasn't looking at him, or even that there was anybody else in the room with Kronos. Lee suspected he usually met with his spies in secret.

"Not much has changed since we last spoke, my lord," he said. "Praetor Ramírez-Arellano continues to settle into her promotion with ease. Her hounds are effective lie detectors that I have not yet found a way to neutralise without suspicion so I have been careful in her presence."

"And Centurion Grace?" Kronos asked, apparently not overly concerned about the lie detecting dogs, even though Lee could personally attest to the titan not being fond of lie detectors outside of his control. "How is Camp Jupiter's precious son of Jupiter faring these days?"

"He remains as popular as ever," Michael said, a sneer in his voice. "The fifth are blindly loyal to him, as they have been since he chose them."

There was a whole story there, or several of them, but Lee was busy trying to get his head around the information that was being dropped, and clashed wholesale with everything he thought he knew.

Camp Jupiter. Son of Jupiter. Lord Saturn. Legion, praetor, centurion.

Those were all Roman terms and names. Lee had noticed some of Kronos' demigods using those and wondered somewhat at it, but had ultimately dismissed it as preference.

Camp Jupiter changed everything. It put the tattoos into some sort of perspective, like some sort of organised group. A group of demigods who used the Roman terms instead of the Greek.

Lee had seen SPQR in his Latin classes, now that he thought about it, although he could never remember what they stood for.

Latin had always been an interesting class at camp. It came easily to Lee, just as much as the Ancient Greek, but a lot of campers had always struggled with it, as though it was French or German or Spanish in high school - he'd heard a lot of complaints about those classes from the summer campers, who still attended mortal school. Some of the Hermes kids were pretty quick at picking it up, but it was clearly not instinctive to them, either.

He'd always chalked it up to some strange way of Apollo's knowledge domain coming through, but now he was curious all over again.

The demigods that used Roman terms also used Latin, sometimes.

Kronos kept asking Michael questions, never looking away from Lee. Things that made little sense to Lee were mentioned, like legacies and New Rome, and terms that sounded like military strategies. Whoever Camp Jupiter was comprised of, wherever and whatever it was, Michael seemed to be holding nothing back.

He seemed to focus a lot on a guy called Octavian, and it was clear he didn't think much of him despite the important position he seemed to hold within their camp. The name reminded Lee of Quintus, and he wondered if that was actually a coincidence, or if Quintus had spent time at the other camp. But if he had, wouldn't he have mentioned something about them?

Things still weren't really making any sense.

One thing Michael said was a lie. Only one, and it was a strange one, especially as a little later he exposed it himself, saying something contradictory - and true, the second time. Kronos didn't call it out, but the weight of his eyes on Lee seemed to get heavier.

With a sinking feeling, Lee realised there was another interrogation in his own future. Kronos knew there had been a lie, there was no doubt about that.

Lee didn't know these people, this Octavian or Praetor Ramírez-Arellano or Centurion Grace. He'd never heard of Camp Jupiter, and didn't know anyone in it.

Was he willing to go through whatever torment Kronos was no doubt preparing to inflict on him to keep them safe, too? Would Kronos be more lenient on Camp Half-Blood if he sacrificed Camp Jupiter?

No, Lee thought. Kronos probably wouldn't, and if he was honest with himself, Lee wouldn't be able to forgive himself if he betrayed anyone, especially those that seemed to be opposing Kronos just as stringently as his own family and friends. Even if he didn't know them personally… he couldn't sacrifice them, either.

Eventually, although in reality it couldn't have been all that long, Kronos dismissed Michael and cut a hand through the discoloured mist, ending the meeting with his Camp Jupiter spy. He took a moment or several to put the bracelet back on his wrist, fussing with it needlessly before he stood up and approached Lee.

"Michael lied to me," he said. It wasn't a question. "Which scouting date was a lie?"

"I wasn't listening," Lee tried. Kronos' hand lashed out, gripping one of his arms with his usual iron grip, and despite Lee's habitual struggles, his wrist was slammed back into the waiting metal cuff, which clicked shut around it. The other one followed suit, leaving Lee once again pinned to the wall.

His body was truly starting to hate that position. His shoulders had started a permanent ache of their own, to go with the pain in his wrists, and Lee knew that his futile struggles weren't doing his muscles any good, either. As for his ankles… They hadn't been released once since Lee had first woken up. His leg muscles were probably only spared atrophy for the time being because of the brief stumbles he was occasionally forced to do towards the bathroom, when the manacles were unlinked from the walls but not each other.

Lee's attempts to get free during those had stopped several trips ago, recognising the futility.

"If you're going to try to lie to me, at least make an effort," Kronos told him with a disappointed sigh. "Now. The date, Lee."

"I'm not your spy and I won't help you hurt anyone," Lee snapped at him. Kronos just gave him one of his threatening smiles, with too many teeth and no mirth to be found.

"I hope you don't truly believe that, Lee," he said. "The eighth, or the fifteenth?"

"I'm not telling you," Lee said stubbornly.

Kronos raised an eyebrow. "Would you prefer that I call in your regular companions?" he asked, another threat behind the pleasant words. "We can see if your tolerance for multiple lies has increased. What is it mortals call that? Exposure therapy?"

Lee blanched. He didn't prefer that, but if he gave in once…

He swallowed and met Kronos' golden eyes. "Sure," he said, hating the way his voice trembled and betrayed the way his mind was shrieking at the prospect, desperate to not be subjected to that again. The lie was thin, and he knew Kronos could see it, but the titan didn't know what mercy was .

"Very well," Kronos said, sweeping towards the door. "If that's what you want."

No, it was not what Lee wanted, but he stayed silent anyway, head hanging low as the footsteps receded. The sobs bubbled up out of nowhere, shaking his body near-silently as his breathing quickened.

By the time multiple footsteps descended upon him, barely a minute or two later, Lee found himself in the thrall of a panic attack, cursing himself for inflicting it on himself.

Kronos' voice held no sympathy. "You chose this, Lee," he reminded him. "Proceed."

None of the lies were new, but they didn't have to be.

Thanks for reading!
Tsari