Chapter Text
Clarisse La Rue spent most of last summer scouting out the entrance to the Labyrinth. It wasn’t fun, it wasn’t cool, and it wasn’t badass. It was the sort of mission you go on if you (1) have something to prove, (2) are incredibly dumb, or (3) are stubborn to a fault. Clarisse is all three.
She went by herself on the secret scouting mission and spent weeks mapping out the beginning of the Labyrinth. The mission had been hers, and only hers. Alone, she crept through the darkness, the bitter scent of damp earth and mildew clinging to her skin no matter where she turned. She’d found no sense of adventure in those days—only the quiet, suffocating pressure of isolation.
It was hell.
For weeks, she mapped the winding paths of the Labyrinth’s entrance, a place that twisted and morphed in unnatural and sinister ways. Sometimes, the walls seemed to move—just out of the corner of her eye—and her breath would catch in her throat, heart pounding, the creeping sensation that something was watching. There were days when she cried herself to sleep in the unending dark. Panic would take hold of her, the fear clawing at her chest like a wild animal desperate to escape, and only thoughts of home could calm her. Thoughts of strawberry fields, training arenas, her siblings... it was Camp Half-Blood she clung to in the dark.
Somehow, she survived it.
This summer, she isn’t expecting much better. If anything, she’s bracing herself for something even worse. Especially now that Annabeth Chase and Percy Jackson are going on a quest into the Labyrinth to find Daedalus.
Clarisse may not love Percy Jackson, but she respects him. He’d do anything for his friends—and Clarisse respects that above all else.
+++++
The Council of Cloven Elders is probably the most annoying group of satyrs Clarisse has ever met — and she’s met a lot of satyrs, mind you. She was brought to camp by Gleeson Hedge all those years ago, and she owes the guy her life. But these old, cranky bastards? Yeah, she doesn’t give a shit about them.
Grover mumbles as he continues to tell them his story, twisting the bottom of his shirt nervously as he does so. Annabeth stands nearby, eyes trained intently on her friend. Clarisse has also developed a newfound respect and admiration for the daughter of Athena. She knows, logically, she’s supposed to hate her. Athena and Ares have the whole sibling rivalry thing going on; but it’s all bullshit. Annabeth is smart, and she’s been a hell of a help with the Labyrinth thing.
Chiron gallops up to the meeting, Percy Jackson on his back. Percy slides off and stands next to Annabeth dutifully, looking as confused as ever. Clarisse would love to antagonize him even further. With that helpless face, he’s almost asking to be bullied. Look at him!
“Punk,” Clarisse mutters, smirking at him. Percy’s frown only deepens, which makes Clarisse laugh softly.
Annabeth throws her arms around Juniper, who was sobbing pretty dramatically only half an hour ago.
“It’s going terribly,” Juniper whispers, sniffling.
“He’ll be fine, Juniper,” Annabeth responds, patting the dryad’s shoulders.
Clarisse isn’t so sure about that. Grover isn’t doing himself any favors right now, with all his muttering and mumbling.
“Master Underwood!” one of the old dudes shouts. “Do you seriously expect us to believe this?”
“It’s the truth!” Grover responds, lip curling into a pout.
Silenus, from the council, turns to his colleagues and mutters. He tugs his ugly yellow polo shirt over his stomach and wiggles around on his rosebush throne. Clarisse would very much like to go to bed, now. If these old bastards aren’t going to help her with the Labyrinth issue, why should she have to be here?
“Master Underwood, for six months — six months! — we have been hearing these scandalous claims that you heard the wild god Pan speak.”
“I did!”
“Impudence!”
Chiron jumps in to help Grover, but the satyrs continue arguing amongst themselves. Clarisse rolls her eyes, exhausted with the antics of men.
Juniper steps forward, looking like she wants to charge the old satyrs and beat them up. Clarisse grabs her arm roughly, pulling her back. “Wrong fight, girlie. Wait,” she mutters.
Percy makes a noise of surprise, so Clarisse flips him off. Ares kids might like to fight, but they also know when not to fight. Annabeth grabs Juniper’s other arm, to hold her back, and Clarisse is thankful for the extra support.
“...one more week, Master Underwood. And then, if you cannot prove your claims, it will be time for you to pursue another career….”
Grover, Juniper, and Annabeth all gasp. Clarisse hates to admit it, but her heart hurts for the satyr. Grover is a good guy; he’s all heart. They may not be friends, now or ever, but Clarisse would feel bad for anyone who was given one week to complete their life goal.
Silenus adjourns the meeting, clapping his hands and calling for a noonday meal. Clarisse forcibly swallows down her swears and taunts and turns to see Percy give Grover a quick hug.
“Those old goats!” Juniper says, cursing them under her breath. “They don’t know how hard you’ve tried!”
“There is another option,” Clarisse says, a little darkly. None of them have broached the topic in days; not even Annabeth.
“No, no,” Juniper says. “Grover, I won’t let you.”
Percy, ever the clueless one, asks what the hell is going on. Clarisse cocks an eyebrow at Annabeth; did that daughter of Athena not fill him in yet on the Labyrinth?
A horn sounds in the distance, cutting off all thoughts of the Labyrinth and quests. Clarisse curses boldly, because she definitely forgot to clean her cabin before this stupid meeting. Without a word to the other demigods, she takes off at a sprint back towards camp.
+++++
She doesn’t have time to think about the council, the Labyrinth, or Kronos as she hastily stuffs all of her clothes, weapons, and various contraband items into the bottom of her bunk. Every afternoon, one of the senior counselors walks around camp with a papyrus scroll checklist. The best cabin gets the first shower hour, which means hot water is guaranteed. The worst cabin gets kitchen patrol after dinner — and Clarisse will not be doing that again.
Clarisse manages to shove the last pack of cigarettes under her pillow as Silena Beauregard, daughter of Aphrodite, enters the Ares cabin. Clarisse’s siblings file out of the cabin, heads hung in shame. Clarisse glares at a few of them — the ones who still have messy bunks — as they walk past. If it’s because of her lazy siblings that she gets stuck on kitchen duty….
Silena stops in front of her, eyebrow cocked.
“Ares cabin is looking a little sloppy today,” Silena remarks.
Clarisse shrugs, unable to look the pretty girl in the eyes. Silena smirks, and brushes past her to take a look at the rest of the cabin.
“My my, La Rue. Is that a candy wrapper I see under your bed?”
Clarisse winces; she knew she’d forgotten something. Shit, what if she’s the one that lands her siblings on kitchen duty? Silena wanders through the rest of the cabin, randomly making notes on her sheet.
“Listen, counselor to counselor, cut me some slack, huh?” Clarisse says, basically pleading with the daughter of Aphrodite. She can not be the reason they suck.
“Counselor to counselor?” Silena asks. “That has never, not once, worked on you. You love giving the Aphrodite cabin a bad score when you’re on duty.”
Shit. It’s true, though. Clarisse takes pride in ruining the Aphrodite kids’ days. Their cabin is always pristine, though, so she really has to dig to find a speck of dirt in there. She can’t help but wonder if Aphrodite forces them to keep it all clean and pretty.
“Right, yeah, about that…” Clarisse says, reaching up to rub the back of her neck. “Truce?”
Silena pauses, her pen hovering over the sheet. It’s no secret that the Ares cabin and Aphrodite cabin are constantly engaging in prank wars and shenanigans. Their godly parents might be close, but the demigods sure aren’t.
“Truce...?” Silena repeats, eyeing Clarisse with suspicion. “No more bug bombs in our bathrooms?”
“As long as you promise not to perfume bomb ours — and you don’t fail our cabin today — we’ll leave you guys alone,” Clarisse responds.
“Deal.”
Silena extends her hand, and Clarisse eagerly shakes it. The daughter of Aphrodite smiles, and something flutters in Clarisse’s chest.