XI. REYNA

Reyna did not wake Percy up in a few hours. Her plan was 'heroic solo watch until dawn'.

The night stretched on. Reyna stood at the bow of the ship, one hand resting lightly on the railing as she gazed out. The waters were surprisingly calm now, as if the sea itself was tired after the storm. Overhead, stars scattered across the sky into a million constellations.
Reyna could never get tired of looking up at the sky. The stars were always there with her. They never left. They always brought her a sense of peace, because no matter where she went, she could always see them.

That sense of peace that was broken by the sound of footsteps behind her.

"You were supposed to wake me hours ago," the voice said accusingly.
Reyna didn't turn. "You needed the rest."
"And you don't?" Percy moved to stand beside her, looking up at the stars.
"I'm fine."
Percy snorted. "Right."

Now she did look at him, arching an eyebrow. "You seem remarkably recovered for someone who was unconscious a few hours ago."

"What can I say? The ocean gives me strength." He gestured vaguely toward the water surrounding them. "It's like plus five hundred vitality boost or something. That's what Nico says."
"Nico?"
"Well, yeah," Percy scratched his head. "My friend. He's sort of crazy into Mythomagic, you know?"
"No, Percy. I do not."

Percy sighed and leaned against the railings, his posture relaxed. "So, we're headed easy now. Any idea where?"

Reyna frowned. She'd noticed it too. Even when Percy had stopped controlling it, the boat was moving steadily east. Like someone was directing it there. Hopefully someone that was helping them.

"I don't know," she admitted. "But we seem to be on a path."

Percy nodded. "The sea is taking us where we need to go."

He looked back west over the open ocean, where a lone albatross flew across the skies. Reyna looked east, where the first hints of dawn began to lighten the horizon. She missed the stars, which began to slowly disappear one by one.

"Hungry?" Percy asked suddenly, breaking the quiet. He produced a slightly squashed bag of blue corn chips from his pocket.
Reyna hesitated, then accepted a handful. "Blue?"
"Long story." A fond smile crossed Percy's lips. "My mom started it. When I was a kid, my stepfather—my first stepfather—he said there was no such thing as blue food. So she went out of her way to find blue food. Blue candy, blue cookies, blue everything."

That seemed a bit overkill. "Your mother sounds… interesting."

"She's amazing," Percy said simply. Reyna felt a pang of something she couldn't quite name. "Best mom in the world," he continued. "Puts up with all the demigod craziness, never complains, always has my back."
Reyna turned back to the ocean, suddenly unable to meet his eyes. "You're lucky."

Percy was quiet for a moment. "Your parents weren't so great, huh?"

"My father was driven mad by my mother's departure," Reyna said. "He became a mania, a spirit of madness and insanity. Hylla and I had to… we had to end his suffering."

She felt rather than saw Percy's shock.

"Gods, Reyna. I'm sorry."
She shrugged. She was used to it. The sympathy. The few times she'd ever told someone about her past. It was the same response. "It was a long time ago."
"Still." Percy's voice was soft. "That's rough."

Percy didn't say anything after that. He offered her more chips, and Reyna took them.

"So," Percy said after a while, carefully casual, "I kinda had a question I wanted to ask you about Camp…"
Reyna stiffed. "Jason?"
"Jason."
"Jason." Reyna sighed. "Six months ago, he just… disappeared. No warning, no explanation. Just gone. And I was left to handle everything alone."

"That sounds…" Percy seemed to search for the right word. "Exhausting."
"Exhausting doesn't begin to cover it." Reyna found herself saying things she'd never admitted to anyone, not even Hylla. "I didn't think I could lead alone. It was—it is, hard."
"But you handled it," Percy pointed out. "Camp Jupiter's still standing. The legion's still strong. You must have done something right."

Reyna shook her head. "I did what had to be done. That's all."

"Don't sell yourself short. Leading is hard. I know—I've been forced into it enough times."
Something in his tone made Reyna look at him more closely. "You don't like being in charge?"

Percy shrugged. "I don't think I'm good at the big picture stuff. I just… do what feels right in the moment. Make things up as I go along. That's not exactly a winning leadership strategy."
"And yet people follow you," Reyna said, thinking of how quickly he'd won over the Fifth Cohort. "Even at Camp Jupiter, people follow you."
"Maybe that's why," Percy shrugged. "Maybe they like my chaos."
Reyna snorted. "Is that what you were bringing? A little chaos?"
"Hey, I resent that," Percy protested, though his eyes were bright with amusement. "I brought a lot of chaos."

Despite herself, Reyna smiled. The sky had lightened considerably now, the stars fading as dawn approached in earnest. The air felt clean and new, washed clear by the night's storm.

"When you first arrived," she said quietly, "I was sure you were going to destroy everything."
Percy's expression sobered. "Yeah. I know. Because of Circe's Island."

"Partly." Reyna looked down at her hands, still gripping the railing. "But also because you were so… un-Roman. So different from everything Camp Jupiter stands for. I thought you'd undermine our traditions, our discipline."

"And did I?"
"Yes and no." She met his eyes now. "You challenged things that needed challenging. Like how we train—focusing on the strongest, letting the weaker legionnaires struggle."
Percy nodded. "Yeah, that never made sense to me. A chain is only as strong as its weakest link and all that."

"Very un-Roman," Reyna said. "Rome respects strength, values power. The weak are expected to become strong or fall behind."
"That's a pretty cold way of looking at things. It reminds me of what Lupa used to say, but I used to think she was exaggerating."
"It's practical," Reyna countered, then sighed. "Or at least, I always thought it was. But watching you work with the newer recruits, seeing how they improved when given proper attention… I had to reconsider."

The first true rays of sunlight broke over the horizon, turning the ocean shades of gold.

"I think," Percy said slowly, "that sometimes we get so caught up in the way things have always been done that we forget to ask if they should keep being done that way."

"Yeah," Reyna drew out the word. "You're a lot smarter than people give you credit for, you know?"
"What can I say?" Percy smirked. "I love proving people wrong."

Reyna chuckled. "I was wrong about something else too," she said, the admission easier than she'd expected.
"What's that?"
"What I said about heroes. About how they save the day and leave others to deal with the aftermath." She thought of Percy, exhausting himself to protect their boat, to protect her. "You're not like that."

Percy looked uncomfortable with the praise. "I've made plenty of messes that other people had to clean up."

"But you stay," Reyna insisted. "You take responsibility. You don't just… leave."
Leave—like her mother had left, like her father had left through madness, like Jason had left. Like Circe. Like Hylla. Like everyone, eventually, left Reyna.

"Well," Percy said, "I'm definitely not going anywhere at the moment. Kind of stuck on this boat with you."

The tension broke, and Reyna found herself rolling her eyes for what felt like the fifth time. "Lucky me."
"Extremely lucky," Percy agreed with mock seriousness. "I'm awesome."

He pushed away from the railing and stretched, joints popping. "Speaking of food, I'm starving. Got anything besides chips in that magic praetor bag of yours?"

Reyna rolled her eyes but led the way to where their supplies were stored. They assembled a makeshift (highly nutritious) breakfast of granola bars, dried fruit, and juice boxes Percy had brought on board last second. Reyna didn't have an issue with juice boxes. But all fifty of them being only Blueberry flavored was a bit much. Not a single Orange, Apple or even a Mixed Fruit.

"What?" Percy defended. "They're practical. Pre-packaged, don't spill easily on a boat."
"I didn't say anything."
"You were thinking it."

They sat on the deck, watching the sun climb higher as they ate. The boat continued its steady progress, guided by currents only Percy could sense.

"It's strange," he said after a while, "being back on the water like this. It reminds me of the Sea of Monsters." He passed her an orange. "Want this? I'm not much of an orange guy."

Reyna accepted the fruit, their fingers brushing briefly in the exchange. She focused on peeling it, the sharp, clean scent filling the air.
"You mentioned a friend," she said. "Annabeth? She was the one with you then?"
Something flickered across Percy's face—a shadow, there and gone in an instant. "Yeah. She was."
Reyna hesitated, sensing dangerous waters. "The same Annabeth who…"

"Who took the oath of maidenhood? Yeah." Percy picked at a loose thread on his jeans. "Same one."

Reyna wasn't sure why she'd brought it up. She was usually good at avoiding personal conversations.
"You don't have to talk about it," she finally said. That was the right thing to say, she assumed.
Percy looked up, and to her surprise, he smiled—small and sad, but genuine. "It's okay. Actually, it's kind of getting easier. I talked to her recently."

"You did?"
"Iris-message, during the night while you were sleeping. Before the pirates showed up." He leaned back, bracing himself on his hands. "It was… good. Cleared the air a bit."

Reyna didn't know what an Iris message was, but she was glad Percy was feeling better. She divided the orange into segments, offering half to Percy. This time he took them.

"I was angry for a long time," he admitted. "Felt like she gave up on us too easily. But talking to her, hearing her side… I get it now. She had this incredible opportunity, and I was just… gone. No one knew where I was. Not even my mom."
"Juno's doing," Reyna nodded.

"Hera, yeah." Percy ate an orange segment, grimacing slightly at the tartness. "gods and their games, using us like chess pieces. But anyway—Annabeth made her choice. And I'm making peace with that."

"How?" Reyna asked. "How can you just forgive her like that?"

"I mean," Percy looked up at the sky. "My mom always used to tell me that holding grudges is like drinking poison and expecting the other person to die. Why do that when you can just forgive them and move on?"

Percy Jackson had clearly been through a lot. More than any other demigod Reyna knew— perhaps even her. And yet… time and time again. He stayed true to himself. Like the ocean. Always coming back. Violent and powerful, but forgiving. It was easy to assume he'd had an easy life, the way he carried himself, but Reyna realized that he simply had more strength of character than she'd given him credit for.

"Is that why you haven't dated anyone at Camp Jupiter?" she asked before she could stop herself.

Percy choked slightly on his orange. "What? No! I mean—I've only been there a few months, and most of that time everyone thought I was a dangerous outsider who might destroy the camp."

"Not everyone," Reyna said, thinking of the way the Fifth Cohort had rallied around him, how even Hazel and Frank had quickly become his fierce defenders.
"Well, someone definitely had their doubts," Percy countered, but his tone was teasing.
Reyna inclined her head, acknowledging the point. "I'm less doubtful now."

"Wow. Thanks." Percy tossed an orange peel over the side of the boat. "What about you? Anyone special waiting in New Rome?"
The question caught Reyna off guard. "No," she said, feeling her face heat up. "Being praetor doesn't leave much time for… that sort of thing."
"Not even Jason?" Percy asked, then immediately looked like he regretted it. "Sorry, that's none of my business."
"It's fine." Reyna kept her voice neutral. "Jason and I were never together, despite what some people at camp might think. We were friends, colleagues. That's all."

"But you wanted more," Percy guessed.

Reyna considered denying it, then sighed. "It doesn't matter now. He's gone. And before he disappeared, I heard he'd developed feelings for someone else. Someone outside camp."
"Ah. Another demigod?" Percy said quietly.
"Yes. And before he was cursed—he gave me this compass," she drew it out of her pocket. "So I can know if he's alive. As long as he's alive, the compass won't point South."

Percy looked down at the compass, now a few degrees south of true east. "So…he's like, what, forty percent alive?"
"I don't know, to be honest," Reyna said, drawing the compass back. "But he's not dead. I'm hoping that—that whatever we do to reverse the curse, will help him as well."

"That's nice of you," Percy admitted. "Even though he left. That you still care about his well being and stuff."
"It's life," Reyna replied with a shrug that aimed for casual but fell short. "People leave. It's what they do."

Percy was silent for a long moment, his gaze thoughtful as it rested on her face. "Not everyone."

Something in his voice made Reyna look away, uncomfortable with the sudden intensity. "We should check our course," she said, standing abruptly before she said something stupid. "Figure out where we're heading."

Percy nodded, joining her and looking over the gunwale. "Southeast," he reported after a moment. "Steady as she goes."
"Any idea how much farther?"
Percy shook his head. "The currents aren't exactly chatty. They just kind of… nudge me in the right direction."
"Very helpful," Reyna muttered.

"Hey, I'm doing my best here." Percy flicked a few drops of water at her, which she dodged with a glare. "Sorry, couldn't resist."

The morning wore on into afternoon, the sun climbing high overhead. The heat was intense, but Percy somehow kept a cool sea breeze flowing across the deck. Reyna passed the time checking their supplies, sorting their weapons, and re-checking their supplies. And re-sorting their weapons.

Percy shared stories about Camp Half-Blood—stories about capture the flag games, the chariot races, and the friends he'd left behind. The Hunters of Artemis. Fighting the Titans. Defeating Kronos. Falling off the Gateway Arch.

In return, Reyna told him about growing up in Puerto Rico, about her early training in combat, and about the years with Circe before making her way to Camp Jupiter. Percy was curious about New Rome, especially the community of legacies and retired demigods that lived there.

"It sounds amazing," Percy said when she described the college, the safe neighborhoods where demigods could live without constant monster attacks. "Almost like a normal life."
"As normal as it gets for people like us," Reyna agreed.

"Do you ever think about it?" Percy asked. "What you'll do after being praetor? College? Career?"
The question startled her. Reyna had been so focused on her current responsibilities, on simply surviving, that she rarely allowed herself to think beyond them.

"Sometimes," she admitted. "I'd like to study law, I think. Or maybe military history."
"I can see that," Percy nodded. "Professor Reyna, terrifying students with pop quizzes about the, um, World Wars."

She rolled her eyes. "What about you?"

Percy leaned back, chewing on a granola bar. "Marine biology, maybe. Or something with the ocean. I've never been great at school, but I like learning about sea creatures." He grinned. "Plus, I can talk to them, which would probably give me an unfair advantage in research."
"Slightly," Reyna agreed dryly.

Afternoon faded into evening. They shared a simple dinner of beef jerky and the last of the dried fruit, watching as the sun began its descent toward the western horizon. The boat continued its steady progress, though Reyna couldn't see any sign of land in the gathering dusk. Percy had promised he could fish if they ever ran out of food, but she was hoping it wouldn't come to that. Right now, they had just enough for four more days of sailing.
Percy insisted on taking the first watch despite Reyna's protests.
"You've been up for almost twenty-four hours," he pointed out. "Even praetors need sleep."

"I'm fine," she insisted.
"Sure you are." Percy's voice was gentle. "But humor me, okay? I promise I won't let any more pirates sneak up on us."

Reyna wanted to argue further, but exhaustion was making her thoughts fuzzy around the edges. "Wake me up in four hours," she finally said. "Don't strain yourself."
"Scout's honor," Percy promised, holding up three fingers.
"Were you even a scout?"
"Details, details." He shooed her toward the cabin. "Go. Sleep. I've got this."

Reyna gave up. She walked towards the cabin door, before looking back.

Percy's figure was silhouetted against the darkening sky. Something about the image—his lanky frame outlined by stars, the ocean stretching endlessly around him—struck her as strangely right, as if he belonged exactly there, exactly as he was.
"Don't fall overboard," she said, the words coming out softer than intended.

Percy turned, his smile visible even in the gathering shadows. "Worried about me, praetor?"
"Of course not."
"Right." Percy's tone made it clear he didn't believe her. "Well, don't worry. I'm pretty comfortable on the water."
Reyna nodded, turning to enter the cabin, then paused. "Percy?"

"Yeah?"

"Thank you."
She didn't specify what she was thanking him for, but somehow, she thought he understood.
"Anytime," he said, and she believed him.

Exhaustion hit Reyna like a wave the moment she lay down on the narrow bunk. She meant to close her eyes for just a moment, to gather her strength before returning to the deck, but the gentle rocking of the boat lulled her to sleep deeper than she'd intended. She was vaguely aware of drifting in and out of consciousness, of the cabin growing darker as night fell in earnest.

At some point, she wandered back onto the deck, wrapped in the light blanket from her bunk, still more asleep than awake. She missed the stars.

Percy was exactly where she'd left him, sitting with his back against the railing, Riptide glowing faintly in sword form across his lap. He looked up as she approached, concern crossing his features.

"Everything okay?" he asked.

Reyna nodded, too tired for words. She sank down beside him, pulling the blanket tighter around her shoulders. The night air was cooler now, the breeze refreshingly salty.

"You should go back inside," Percy said. "It's getting cold out here."
Reyna shook her head. "S'nice," she murmured. "Stars."
"You like the stars?"
"Yes."

Percy chuckled, the sound warm in the darkness. "Can't argue with that logic."

Reyna felt herself drifting again, her head growing heavier. Without fully intending to, she found herself leaning against Percy's shoulder, her eyes sliding closed.
"Careful," he said softly. "Might fall overboard like that."

"You'll catch me," Reyna mumbled, already more than half asleep.

The last thing she was aware of was Percy's surprise, then the gentle weight of his arm coming around her shoulders, steadying her as the boat rocked beneath them.

"Yeah," he said, his voice following her down into dreams. "I will."