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There was a party going on Olympus. Whenever things were going well, there was always a party going on Olympus. But this particular party was celebrating the successful completion of a quest, not a Great Quest, but an impressive adventure all the same, and the gods and goddess were using the celebration as a chance to reconnect with their mortal children.
Hera was the one to see them first. She had stepped out onto a balcony for some air—sometimes Zeus could be too much—and saw them gathered together a level below, leaning close for a private conversation.
There was Percy in his garish orange Camp Half-Blood shirt wearing a big grin and proudly displaying his SPQR tattoo with its lone Roman numeral. Matching his grin was Jason in a purple Camp Jupiter tee with a single bead hanging from the necklace at his throat. Sandwiched between them was Nico, who eschewed both camp colors in favor of all black and whose slouched posture belied his confidence while the sly twist to his mouth and the impish gleam in his eyes betrayed his delight.
Looking at them like this, Hera could easily see her brothers echoed in their half-mortal sons. The boy’s dark heads and fine features echoed the blood of their immortal parents. But she could never imagine Zeus, Poseidon, or Hades looking so happy together because they were together. At best, her brothers tolerated each other as inconvenient necessities.
The sight of the boys enjoying each other’s company eased her heart at first. Jason was hers—or was Juno’s at any rate, which was close enough—and having such a good relationship with the other sons of the big three meant he could call on their aid when she had a quest for them. But the longer she looked, the greater a kernel of doubt grew in her heart. By the time, Hephaestus found her on the balcony, the icy hand of fear had taken her in its grip entirely.
“Mother?” asked her cleverest child. “Are you well?”
“I’m fine,” said Hera lightly. Truly, there was nothing wrong, just flights of fancy gone awry.
Hephaestus limped over to her and peered over the railing. “Oh,” he breathed. “I see.”
“Do you?” asked Hera hoping his logical, scientific mind could provide an explanation for her fears.
Hephaestus quietly observed the boys, his eyes lingering the longest on Jason, his mortal half-brother, before speaking. “My father and my uncles are the strongest of the gods, yet they rarely work together. If they did, then they would truly be unstoppable. Those boys down there aren’t as strong as the gods individually, but they aren’t afraid to work together either.”
Hephaestus lifted his head and met his mother’s gaze. “Jason and Nico are both willing to follow Percy’s lead in battle. And Percy Jackson has already rejected the offer of godhood.”
“Of course,” said Hera.
Of course, that was the problem. Percy and the others had already defeated the Titans and the Giants. What was to stop them from casting down the Gods of Olympus? Affection? That was a thin thread that the gods had nearly played out. If Zeus saw this, if his ancient fear of being overtaken and consumed got the better of him again, then Olympus might declare war on their half-blood children, a war Hera was not certain they could win.
Hera laid an unnaturally chill hand on her son’s arm and let the natural heat of the god of smithing warm her soul. “Let’s make sure your father stays inside tonight.”
“Yes, mother,” agreed Hephaestus covering her hand with one of his own. “I think that’s a good idea.”
The god and goddess turned to walk inside, Hera ever mindful of Hephaestus slower pace. She cast one final glance over her shoulder and felt the chill bloom anew inside of her.
Percy Jackson met her gaze for a brief moment. His wide grin was not the usual charming, laid-back smile she was so used to seeing on H-TV. The bright light in his eyes was hard, and his smile had gained a predatory, shark-like edge. His gaze moved on, back to his cousins, and his features softened into his usual easy-going demeanor.
Hera snapped her face forward and brushed away Hephaestus concerned inquiry. Her husband and her brothers would ignore any warnings about the threat their children posed, especially Poseidon, and Hera wasn’t sure that she wanted to set the gods up against their children anyway. That plan stank of self-fulfilling prophecy to her. The gods were notoriously bad about creating those. Instead, Hera would reach out to Amphitrite and Persephone just in case.